In his small courtyard, Wei Zhong held the newly acquired High-Grade Qi Nourishing Pill. Half of the three hundred spirit stones he had just earned vanished in an instant, a stark reminder of the arduous path of cultivation.
Well, I'll just do my best at the auction.
Considering the scale of the upcoming auction, Wei Zhong debated whether to participate as Spirit Farmer Wei Zhong or as Loose Cultivator Chu He.
As Spirit Farmer Wei Zhong, he had cultivated connections within the Yan Clan over many years. Even if he acquired valuable spiritual treasures, his established status would afford him some protection within Yan Clan territory.
If he attended as Loose Cultivator Chu He, he might face challenges and duels immediately after the auction.
Better to go as Wei Zhong.
I don't have any hope for the Life-Extending Pill. Given its rarity, countless others will be vying for it.
I'd be more than satisfied to acquire some healing pills.
Late-stage Qi Refining cultivators typically lived for at least one hundred and fifty years, half again as long as ordinary people. Some exceptionally long-lived individuals even reached one hundred and seventy or eighty years.
Yet Wei Zhong's maximum lifespan was a mere one hundred and thirty-seven years.
His earlier martial arts training, though effective, had been too hasty. The injuries he sustained in the mortal realm now cast a long shadow over his cultivation journey.
Acquiring some pills to fortify his foundation and replenish his vital energy would be ideal. Treating his injuries would not only alleviate his immediate lifespan concerns but also eliminate the need for repeated cultivation rank reductions, which could attract unwanted attention.
This would also allow him to conveniently attribute his lifespan extension to the treatment of his injuries. After all, it made little sense for a dying old man to suddenly start doing "sit-ups."
With this, he could continue cultivating peacefully at the Yan Clan for a few more years.
Three days later, the Yan Clan's settlement was bustling with visiting cultivators. The auction was set to begin the following day.
Drawn by the event, the cultivators had begun trading amongst themselves. The outskirts of the Yan Clan's territory had transformed into a makeshift Market City, where counterfeit goods abounded and a few loose cultivators had already met their end in disputes.
To maintain order, the Yan Clan designated a specific area for these transactions and dispatched clan disciples to patrol the area, upholding the clan's reputation.
"How much for that motley parrot?" Wei Zhong asked the old man behind the stall.
Before him stood a half-meter-tall birdcage containing three birds.
Two of the parrots were pure white, their feathers gleaming with divine grace. The third, however, was a motley mix of black, red, gray, and at least six or seven other colors, its lineage clearly impure.
The stall owner, a middle-aged man with a long beard reaching his chest, looked slightly surprised when Wei Zhong inquired about the multicolored bird.
"This is a rare variant of the White-feathered Parrot, suspected to have undergone a bloodline mutation. A hundred low-grade spirit stones, and it's yours, Fellow Daoist."
Wei Zhong shook his head, clearly seeing through the man's attempt to swindle him.
"Ten spirit stones. Don't think you're giving me a bargain. A common White-feathered Parrot only costs fifty spirit stones. This mutt of yours is likely a crossbreed between a White-feathered Parrot and a mundane bird. Its dull eyes lack the lively spark of the other two; it might even be downgraded from spirit beast status."
White-feathered Parrots were merely first-tier spirit beasts, equivalent to the Qi Refining realm in cultivation. They possessed neither combat prowess nor any special abilities.
Their sole appeal lay in their pristine white plumage, which radiated extraordinary beauty, and their relatively high intelligence compared to other common spirit beasts. Prized as ornamental companions, they were highly favored by cultivators.
Wei Zhong's words darkened the stall owner's expression.
Looks like I hit the nail on the head.
"Forty spirit stones, Fellow Daoist. I can't go any lower."
Eager to sell, the owner nearly halved his price with his next offer.
Wei Zhong held out his hands. "Ten spirit stones."
The stall owner seemed reluctant to concede. "Thirty..."
Wei Zhong turned and walked away.
He had only been drawn to the parrot's mottled plumage, finding it somewhat endearing. He envisioned keeping it as a pet in his courtyard, a small diversion, and had no intention of spending spirit stones to raise it as a spirit beast.
Seeing Wei Zhong leave, the stall owner finally called out in desperation, "Fellow Daoist, wait!"
Moments later, Wei Zhong walked through Market City carrying a smaller birdcage containing the motley-feathered parrot.
After browsing the entire market, Wei Zhong discovered a surprising number of valuable items, though their prices were equally staggering.
Loose cultivators were particularly audacious, often demanding exorbitant prices. He witnessed one such cultivator brandishing an unidentifiable black fragment, claiming it was a shard of a magic treasure that might contain the legacy of a Core Formation cultivator, and demanding five hundred low-grade spirit stones for it.
Magic treasures were third-tier or higher magic tools, requiring at least a Core Formation cultivator to wield effectively.
Wei Zhong had never seen anything like it before and couldn't form an opinion.
The other cultivators scoffed at the claim.
"Five hundred low-grade spirit stones? Even a spirit farmer like me would have to toil without food or rest for five or six years to earn that much. Who in their right mind would waste their money on this junk?"
Wei Zhong turned and walked away. Even if the stall owner's claims were true, so what? It was just a tiny fragment. What use could it possibly be to him? He'd rather spend those spirit stones on pills to enhance his cultivation base.
As for inheriting the legacy of a Core Formation cultivator, Wei Zhong believed he simply didn't have that kind of luck. In his past life, his gacha pulls had always been "clear skies ahead." He dared not tempt fate with such a gamble.
But then again, could his very reincarnation here mean he was blessed with good fortune?
Wei Zhong shook his head. He only had three days left to live after transmigrating. His fortune might exist, but it was hardly abundant.
Returning to his residence, Wei Zhong hung the parrot's cage in the courtyard. He didn't own a spirit beast, nor did he possess any methods for taming one. The stall owner had also offered such techniques, but their exorbitant prices paled in comparison to the Yan Clan's more affordable options.
He flicked two grains of spirit rice into the cage. The parrot fluttered its wings twice and snatched them up in its beak.
"Hmm, it knows how to feed itself. Not completely dim-witted. With its mottled plumage, I'll call you Nine-Colored."
Nine-Colored... Chives... The name sounded strangely familiar, like something from his previous life.
Wei Zhong turned and re-entered his room. Nine-Colored watched his retreating figure without a sound, remaining motionless until he disappeared from sight. Only then did it twist its head to gaze at the towering tree in the courtyard, its eyes suddenly vacant.
Frozen in place...
The next day, the Yan Clan estate buzzed with activity as cultivators streamed toward the auction venue. Even the spirit farmers working in the fields joined the throng. Familiar farmers greeted Wei Zhong as he passed.
A spirit farmer who had tilled the Yan Clan's lands for decades and reached the eighth layer of Qi Refining cultivation was considered a notable figure. Wei Zhong nodded in acknowledgement but didn't linger to chat, maintaining the reserved demeanor of his predecessor.
Upon entering the venue, Wei Zhong was stopped by a young cultivator. Yan Qiyu's eyes showed a flicker of respect as Wei Zhong released the spiritual pressure of a high-level Qi Refining cultivator.
"Senior, please pay the two spirit stone entrance fee," Yan Qiyu said.
Wei Zhong smoothly handed over the stones and received a token in return. Kan, Jia, Seventy-Six. This auction was clearly on a grand scale.
Behind Wei Zhong, Yan Qiyu stopped another cultivator and repeated the same request. The man's face flushed crimson, as if on the verge of anger.
Two spirit stones might not seem like much, but they weren't exactly free money. This entrance fee system effectively filtered out those with limited means, acting as a kind of selection process.
Still, the Yan Clan must be raking in a fortune just from these fees.