The three of them left the clinic and threaded through the crowded streets, the late evening air humming with anticipation. Lanterns swayed gently in the wind, their flickering light reflecting off the polished cobblestones, guiding them toward the eastern square. Soon, the massive wooden doors of the Iron Lantern Hall loomed before them, carved with intricate depictions of dragons and phoenixes in flight. The scent of incense and spirit herbs drifted from within, carrying the faint metallic tang of spirit beasts nearby.
Shi Yang pushed the doors open with a soft creak. Inside, the hall spread out in orderly grandeur. Dozens of rows of tiered seats curved around a central stage, giving everyone a clear view of the auction floor. At the center, a circular platform stood where cages and treasures would be displayed, its edges marked with glowing inscriptions to suppress spirit beasts.
Servants in plain gray robes moved through the aisles with practiced efficiency, stopping before each guest to hand them a blank wooden paddle. Shi Yang accepted his with a raised brow—the surface was smooth, etched with a subtle, swirling formation. When he probed it with a thread of Qi, the runes flared softly, and the number he focused on shimmered into being across the paddle's face before fading away. A clever trick—silent bidding without chaos.
The three took their seats midway up the left side of the hall, where they had a clear view of both stage and crowd. Xiu Mei ran her fingers across her paddle, curiosity plain in her eyes. Han Jie studied his with cautious intensity, already testing how much Qi it required to respond. Shi Yang simply rested his against his leg, his gaze sweeping across the gathering cultivators.
"Tonight," Shi Yang murmured, leaning close to Xiu Mei and Han Jie, "our trip toward the spirit vein has moved up. We'll leave tomorrow morning. After that, we'll head farther out—open the Glory Clinic in another town. One with a bigger market, for bigger opportunities." His tone was calm but carried the weight of command, the kind that left no room for hesitation.
Xiu Mei nodded, adjusting Little Yoke in her arms. "Another town… more people to impress. Sounds exhausting but exciting."
Han Jie added quietly, "And more cultivators to potentially cross paths with. We need to be cautious."
Shi Yang's lips curved faintly. "Cautious, yes—but we can't hesitate to strike when opportunity presents itself. For now, watch closely. The auction begins, and we'll see what the world has to offer."
With that, they settled back in their seats as the servants dimmed the lanterns overhead and the auctioneer walked onto the glowing platform, the room falling into a sharp, expectant silence.
"Greetings, practitioners and experts from far and wide," the old auctioneer's voice rang out, his words carrying through the entire hall as he addressed both the people on the first floor and those in the private rooms above.
Expert? So there are Foundation Realm cultivators here as well. Shi Yang's eyes narrowed slightly, though he wasn't surprised. His gaze lingered on the private rooms before turning calmly back to the front of the hall.
The auctioneer, an elderly man with a steady, commanding voice, stepped into the glow of the stage.
"We've all gathered here because the town lord has opened his alchemy cauldron to the public once again—after twenty years," he announced. "For those unaware, today is no ordinary auction. Any successful bid on a spirit beast that aligns with your Dao—or with your partner's Dao, if it is given as a gift—will be refined here in the hall by the lord's own disciples. The result: an earthly pill treasure known as the True Elements Spirit Pill."
A ripple of murmurs spread across the crowd, excitement flashing in the eyes of many cultivators.
The first lot was carried forward—a massive clay jar sealed with talismans. When the lid was pried off, the contents writhed. Hundreds of segmented, pale-brown worms squirmed and twisted inside, their bodies glimmering faintly with earthy essence.
"The Hundred-Sliced Spirit Worms," the old man announced. "Early-stage Qi Refinement, suited for earth-path cultivators. Starting bid: one low-grade spirit stone."
A few interested buyers leaned forward, but Shi Yang and his companions remained motionless. The worms were too weak, and none of them cultivated the earth Dao. To bid would be nothing but a waste.
The auctioneer's voice cut through the whispers.
"One low-grade spirit stone—do I hear more?"
Numbers began flashing across the Qi-imbued paddles around the hall, each accompanied by a faint shimmer of light.
"Two… three… five low-grade spirit stones."
The bidding climbed steadily until finally, a voice from one of the upper balconies pressed forward with calm finality.
"Nine low-grade spirit stones."
The hall quieted. None dared to challenge it further.
"Sold!" the old man declared, striking his wooden block. The massive jar of worms was sealed once again and carried off through a side passage, destined for the back of the hall where the cauldrons blazed.
The next spirit beast was brought forth—a squat, rock-skinned lizard, its eyes gleaming with dull yellow light. "An Earth-Tread Gecko, Early-stage Qi Refinement. Its flesh holds a stabilizing essence, particularly effective for body refinement. Starting bid: one mid-grade spirit stone."
Shi Yang leaned back, expression unreadable. He wasn't interested. The bidding went back and forth briefly before the gecko was taken away.
Two more earth-path beasts followed—a burrowing mole with claws that shimmered like metal, then a hulking tortoise with plates like carved stone. Each found a buyer quickly, their value lying with cultivators who walked the earth Dao.
Then, as the next cage was rolled forward, a sharp cry rang out.
Inside, feathers the color of pale jade shimmered under the lantern light, each plume tipped with faint azure. A small hawk-like bird flared its wings, and with every beat, a breeze rippled outward, rattling the banners overhead.
"A Zephyr Songbird," the auctioneer announced with clear pride. "Mid-stage Qi Refinement, wind affinity. Its essence is particularly suited for fusing into pill recipes involving speed and agility. Starting bid: two mid-grade spirit stones."
On Xiu Mei's lap, Little Yoke stirred, ears twitching sharply. The tiny beast lifted its head, eyes locking on the bird with unusual focus.
Shi Yang noticed immediately. He reached out and stroked its head, his lips curving faintly.
"Do you want it?" he asked softly.
Little Yoke gave a low growl, tail swishing as if in answer.
Shi Yang's gaze returned to the stage. He lifted his paddle and let a strand of Qi pour into the formation. A glowing "2" flared across its surface.
"Two mid-grade spirit stones," the auctioneer called, pointing toward Shi Yang's seat. "Do I hear higher?"
"Three mid-grade spirit stones," a man in the top row at the back said, lifting his paddle.
Shi Yang glanced up at him, expression cool, before calmly raising his own bid.
"Five."
"Six." The figure in the corner spoke again, his voice low and grating.
Little Yoke's ears twitched. It pressed closer to Shi Yang's arm, eyes wide, gaze fixed on the caged bird as though its very soul yearned for it.
Shi Yang chuckled softly, stroking the cub's fur. "Don't worry. I'll get it for you." Then, without hesitation, he raised his paddle again. "Eight."
"Ten!" the man barked, and the hall gasped. A full high-grade spirit stone, this early in the auction? Murmurs rippled through the crowd. If someone was willing to spend this much on a mere Qi Refinement bird, how high would the bidding climb later when true treasures appeared?
Shi Yang tilted his head, amused. Annoying, but fine—let's play this game.
"Thirteen."
"Fourteen!"
"Fifteen!"
"Sixteen!" the man snapped back, his voice sharper now, frustration leaking through.
Shi Yang didn't flinch. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. The bids fell from his lips with steady rhythm, and each time, the figure gritted his teeth harder.
The man clenched his jaw. This bird isn't worth more than twenty. If I push further, we'll both bleed losses. Better to—
Then his eyes widened as Shi Yang lazily lifted his paddle once more.
"Twenty-six."
The man froze. Twenty-six? Was this lunatic really willing to go that high? No… this has to be a bluff. He's burning through his entire savings. If I press him once more, he'll crumble.
He forced a smirk and called out, "Twenty-seven—"
"Thirty!"
The number boomed through the Iron Lantern Hall, like a slap across the man's face. The crowd erupted in whispers, heads swiveling between the challenger in the corner and the calm youth stroking a tiny beast in his lap.
The figure's hand trembled on his paddle. He didn't raise it. Couldn't.
The auctioneer struck his block with finality.
"Thirty mid-grade spirit stones! Sold to the young master below!"
The cage rattled as attendants wheeled the Zephyr Songbird toward the back to be processed, its pale jade feathers shimmering under the lantern light.
Little Yoke let out a soft growl of excitement, almost bouncing in Xiu Mei's lap, as though it knew its prize had already been secured.