Three more days passed.
The cave remained unchanged—dark, silent, undisturbed. The only movement within it was the slow, deliberate circulation of qi through three hovering talismans.
Elder Lianhua did not leave her position.
She refined.
Again and again.
Each cycle smoothed irregularities in resonance. Each pass reduced instability between the blood fragments and the tracking arrays. She did not increase power—she increased precision.
The blood within each talisman no longer fluctuated violently. It no longer strained against the paper's structure. Instead, it settled into a contained pattern, evenly distributed along layered runic pathways.
By the end of the third day, the difference was unmistakable.
The three talismans hovered in perfect triangular formation before her.
They did not tremble.
They did not crack.
They did not emit excess qi.
Their surfaces were calm, the runes sharp and fully integrated. The blood fragments within them had stabilized—no longer resisting, no longer degrading.
Lianhua opened her eyes.
She extended a thin thread of qi toward them.
The response was immediate.
All three shifted in unison, adjusting their orientation slightly—subtle, controlled, precise.
No delay.
No distortion.
"…Refinement complete," she said quietly.
She tested them again—this time reducing her qi input.
They still responded.
Minimal energy required.
Efficient.
She withdrew her hand.
"They will function," she concluded calmly. "Duration limited. Range moderate. Accuracy dependent on proximity."
A practical assessment.
Nothing exaggerated.
The triangular formation rotated once more, then stilled.
For the first time in days, she allowed the cave to fall into complete silence.
Three blood-tracking talismans.
Finished.
Ready for deployment.
They hovered steadily before her.
Lianhua studied them one final time.
Then she raised her hand.
Two of the talismans folded inward, their qi sealed and suppressed. They flattened slightly, the runes dimming as she stored them within her sleeve.
"Reserve," she said quietly.
The third remained.
It hovered before her, stable and responsive.
She turned toward the cave entrance.
With a subtle motion of her fingers, the defensive formation at the cave's mouth loosened just enough to permit her passage. The earth-grade flags remained in place—active, concealed.
She stepped forward.
Cool forest air greeted her as she emerged from the cave, carrying the scent of soil and leaves.
The talisman followed at shoulder height.
She did not rush.
A thin stream of qi flowed into it.
The runes activated.
Not brightly.
Not dramatically.
They simply awakened.
The paper stiffened. Internal resonance began to circulate. The embedded blood fragment reacted—subtly at first.
Lianhua slowed her breathing.
Reduced interference.
"Listen," she murmured—not to the forest, but to the talisman.
The paper rotated slowly in midair.
Once.
Twice.
Then it paused.
It tilted slightly—to the northwest.
Barely noticeable.
She increased her qi input by a fraction.
The talisman adjusted more clearly, the runes stabilizing along one edge.
Direction confirmed.
"…There," she said calmly.
She withdrew most of her qi, leaving only enough to sustain activation.
The talisman held its bearing—not rigidly, but consistently—indicating a fixed line through the forest.
Lianhua stepped forward.
The talisman moved with her, maintaining its orientation.
No dramatic pull.
No sudden surge.
Just steady guidance.
And she began to follow.
---
Two days earlier—
The fox had worked without pause.
Four Concealment Plates now rested beneath the floorboards—one at each corner of the room. Triangular anchors etched between them pulsed faintly, invisible unless viewed with divine sense.
They absorbed ambient qi.
Compressed it.
Turned the room into something… hollow.
Spiritual fluctuations no longer leaked outward. Instead, they folded inward, cycling and diffusing within a tightly sealed pocket.
From the outside—
The room felt empty.
Dead.
As though no cultivator resided within.
Perfect.
The fox had tested it twice.
Released a pulse of spiritual energy.
Watched it vanish into the plates without a single ripple escaping beyond the walls.
Satisfied.
Since then—
It had cultivated continuously.
Pills consumed.
Herbs refined.
Breathing slow and steady.
Trying to push against that invisible wall of bloodline limitation.
The lizard remained curled in the corner, energy thick around its body. Lightning occasionally cracked across its scales before being swallowed by the qi-suppressing field.
Now—
Sunset of the third day.
The room was dim.
Quiet.
The fox lay curled on the bed, eyes closed but not fully asleep.
Beside it—
The VIP card from the Heavenweight Exchange Pavilion.
Still.
Silent.
Then—
A faint glow.
Soft at first.
Barely noticeable.
The fox's ear twitched.
The card's surface pulsed with pale golden light.
Once.
Twice.
Then brighter.
The fox's eyes snapped open.
It did not move immediately.
It simply stared at the card.
"…Right on time."
The private auction was scheduled for tonight.
The glow intensified.
A thin line of light traced across the card's surface, forming characters.
Invitation Confirmed.
Draconic Essence — Final Lot.
Attendance Required Before Midnight.
The fox's pupils narrowed.
Final lot.
So it would not be revealed early.
Meaning bidding would escalate.
Meaning tension would accumulate.
Meaning powerful figures would remain until the very end.
The fox slowly uncurled.
Its gaze shifted briefly toward the corner.
The lizard remained unconscious.
Energy denser now.
Heavier.
Still refining.
"…You didn't pick a good time to sleep."
The card pulsed again—this time projecting a faint map outline, revealing a private entrance route separate from the public Night Market access.
VIP entry.
Controlled.
Likely monitored.
The fox's tail flicked once.
It rose to its paws.
Outside the concealment field, River M would feel normal.
Inside—
The air was thick with suppressed power.
The fox lifted the card gently with its paw.
Golden light reflected in its eyes.
"Final lot…" it murmured.
If it truly was draconic essence—
There would be no gap left for "those struggling to survive."
Only predators.
It glanced at the lizard one last time.
Then its expression steadied.
Whatever waited tonight—
It would walk in prepared.