"Two gold," Shi Yang called, raising his paddle to join in.
The hall stirred. The crowd was lighter now; most casual bidders had already spent, leaving only the brave and the greedy.
"Three gold."
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
The numbers climbed quickly, each voice sharper than the last.
"Seven," a young practitioner said, his tone casual as he leaned toward his companions. One of them clearly had his eye on the sword technique, and the other—the pill.
"Brother Zhen," one of his companions purred, curling closer, "if you can win those for me, I'll make tonight unforgettable~." His voice was low, velvety, as his hand slid brazenly against Zhen's leg.
"Hahaha!" Zhen threw back his head in laughter. "Then I must win it. Ten gold!" He lifted his paddle high.
"Fourteen gold!"
"Sixteen gold!"
"Eighteen gold," Shi Yang's voice cut through the air, firm and decisive. That was every coin he had. If this wasn't enough, he would push the last eleven spirit stones as well—together just shy of forty gold.
A hush fell when a deep voice rolled down from above.
"Fifty gold."
It came from one of the private rooms. An expert, faceless but untouchable.
The crowd broke into murmurs. No one dared to compete further.
Shi Yang lowered his paddle, lips tightening. Outbid. Even if he stacked his entire purse of gold and stones, he would still fall short.
"Tch… so that's that," he muttered under his breath. "Not my luck today."
He leaned back, forcing himself to smile as he thought of Han Jie and Xiu Mei waiting at his side. "Maybe I was greedy. Two beauties already, three if I count Wei Kunshan, and I've already crossed paths with five jade-like women in this world. The heavens aren't starving me—there will be others."
The auctioneer clapped, signaling the next set. "The third package: a wind pill, a crafted fan weapon, and… a white tiger cub spirit beast."
The attendants wheeled out the cage. Within it, a small cub pressed against the bars, its pale fur glowing faintly under the lanterns. Beside Shi Yang, little Yoke suddenly perked up, his tail lashing with excitement as he growled low and soft, almost… yearning.
Shi Yang burst into laughter. "So you've fallen for her already, little buddy? Seems we're the same—drawn to trouble the moment we see it."
He raised his paddle.
The bidding for this set was fierce at first, but it cooled quickly—wind sets weren't in high demand here. With a calm push, Shi Yang secured it for no more than thirteen gold.
The attendants brought him a carved jade token, stamped with the auction seal. It was proof of purchase, granting him the right to collect his prize at any time. Shi Yang turned and pressed it into Xiu Mei's palm.
"Go," he said warmly. "Take Yoke and fetch his new girlfriend. He's been patient long enough."
Xiu Mei smiled despite herself, hugging the cub close as she rose to leave.
But before she reached the door, a figure cloaked in dark green robes stepped into Shi Yang's path. His head bowed low, his tone respectful.
"Fellow Daoist," the servant said softly, bowing low. "My master, Expert Qian Mu, invites you to his private room. He wishes to discuss… business regarding the earlier water set."
"Me?" Shi Yang asked, brows lifting slightly. For a moment, he wondered if the man had mistaken him for someone else.
"Yes," the servant replied quickly. "Expert Qian Mu only desired certain pieces from that package. If you truly had your eyes on the rest, he is willing to hand them to the second-highest bidder."
Shi Yang's gaze sharpened, suspicion flashing in his eyes. He studied the servant carefully. The token at the man's sash glimmered faintly—White Lotus Representative.
"A White Lotus worker…" Shi Yang muttered under his breath.
He exhaled softly, then turned to Han Jie. "Keep bidding. Maybe you can find something for cheap." His tone gentled. "Just stay here, and wait for my return."
Han Jie hesitated, eyes narrowing as though she sensed something amiss. Still, she obeyed, pressing the two small bottles into his palm. "Very well. But be careful."
Shi Yang offered her a faint smile, then followed the servant.
—
The private rooms were high above, silent and draped in layered curtains. The servant stopped at a lacquered door and slid it open with a respectful bow.
Inside, sandalwood smoke perfumed the air. Lantern-light glowed faintly against golden screens, casting long shadows across the chamber.
And there, seated with an elegance that seemed carved by time itself, was an old man. His long white hair flowed down over a pristine white hanfu, his beard trailing like snow. His body looked frail, yet the aura radiating from him was sharp and vast, as if the weight of mountains pressed silently behind his presence.
The man raised his gaze as Shi Yang entered, his eyes calm yet piercing. "Greetings, young Daoist Yin Yang Shi," he said, voice steady, refined, and ageless.
Shi Yang cupped his fists respectfully.
The old man studied him with a faint smile. "I have heard of your work. To shape flesh with Dao… to make men appear as women, truly that is a profound technique."
"You jest, senior," Shi Yang replied smoothly. "I am sure someone such as yourself possesses similar tricks."
The old man chuckled softly, shaking his head. "The Dao is not so simple. Even though I possess the core Dao from which your technique is derived, I lack the proficiency to manipulate the essence of blood as you do. Even if I were to attempt to copy your path, it would collapse in my hands. Our roads are not the same. Mimicking another's Dao only leads to ruin."
Shi Yang's brows furrowed. "How so?"
The Daoist lifted a hand. At once, a stream of water coalesced before him, swirling in the air. With a twist of his wrist, the water hardened, freezing into glittering ice crystals that linked together into the shape of a bell. Its surface shimmered like jade under moonlight.
"Tell me," the old man said, his eyes gleaming, "have you ever seen someone use this Dao?"
Shi Yang shook his head. "No."
The old man smiled faintly. He dipped a brush into ink and, with a fluid stroke, wrote a single character across the frozen bell. The rune glowed briefly, then the bell dissolved into droplets, scattering back into water before vanishing altogether.
He extended the brush toward Shi Yang. "Now that I have shown you how my Water Dao flows, try to do the same. Form a bell of ice—wider than your palms."
Shi Yang looked at the older cultivator, thoughts turning in his mind.
"I'm afraid I cannot," he admitted. "I lack the pure manifestation abilities of a Foundation Realm expert. At best, I can form water droplets along my skin—freezing a stream into a bell is beyond me for now."
His gaze lingered on the dissipating droplets of water. "Besides… I only caught a glimpse of the character you inscribed upon your bell. No doubt it was a clue, yet even with such guidance, the limitations you've set ensure that failure remains a possibility. A mundane task for you, Senior, could well be impossible for me. Is that not so, Expert Qian Mu?"
Qian Mu's lips curved into a faint smile. "Exactly." He lifted a wine gourd and poured himself a cup, the liquid glimmering like liquid jade. "But that little test was never the true reason I called you here. Come—sit. My servant will bring in the set I seized from the auction floor, only to draw your attention. What I wish to discuss is business."
"Oh?" Shi Yang's brow arched. "And what kind of business would that be?"
Qian Mu leaned back, his long white hair shifting over his shoulders like snow. "You possess a remarkable talent for sculpting flesh. I wondered if you might apply it to me…" His voice trailed for a moment as he swirled the wine in his cup. "Not to turn me into a woman, mind you. But to draw back the years—to smooth away this skin and restore some measure of my youth." His eyes gleamed with a mix of hope and calculation. "In return, I will pay you handsomely: five hundred high-grade spirit stones, as well as a second-tier Pavilion Token—allowing you free residence in any White Lotus Pavilion for the next three centuries."
Shi Yang weighed his words carefully, then cupped his fists. "Very well. I accept."
—
The work was subtle but profound. Threads of flesh shifted beneath Shi Yang's hands, bone and sinew tightening, sagging skin lifting as Qi-guided precision reshaped the old man's body. Wrinkles smoothed, hair gleamed faintly darker, and the heaviness of what would have been eighty mortal years gave way to the firmer vigor of sixty.
Qian Mu flexed his hands, studying them as though they belonged to a stranger. A breath of laughter escaped him. "Marvelous. Truly marvelous."
The sliding of the door interrupted the silence. The servant returned, carrying a small hand mirror. Its surface shimmered like liquid silver, rippling faintly.
Shi Yang's eyes narrowed as he peered inside. The mirror's depths revealed a floating tank of shimmering herbs and drifting leaves, within which a familiar figure curled tightly—the fish girl from the auction. Her translucent fins stirred weakly, her body glowing faintly as she slept in confinement.
But that wasn't all. Alongside her drifted a saber of sharp, elegant design, a jade bottle containing the Water Dao pill, and a neatly folded technique manual.
Qian Mu gestured lightly toward it. "All of this lies within the storage mirror. Consider it a bonus. It is yours to keep."
He then set down a small pouch upon the table, the spiritual weight of five hundred high-grade spirit stones pressing heavily upon the air. Beside it, he laid a gleaming Pavilion Token, its lotus emblem carved in radiant silver.
"As promised," Qian Mu said softly, his rejuvenated features bending into a smile. "Payment in full."
Shi Yang studied the mirror in silence, its watery surface still rippling faintly. His hand brushed over the frame before he slid it closer to himself.
"A storage mirror that can hold a living being…" His eyes narrowed. "I've seen treasures that can preserve herbs, even beasts, but never a person. How is this possible?"
Qian Mu's youthful face betrayed no more than a mild smile. He sipped his wine slowly before answering.
"That, I'm afraid, touches upon secrets of the Pavilion. And those are not mine to speak of."
Shi Yang's brows furrowed. "Then if I walk away with this, will I be hunted down?"
The older cultivator chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"Not by the Pavilion. If anyone were to see you carry such a thing, they would only assume you were kin or a trusted companion of one of the Lotus Heads. No one within would dare lift a finger against you. The ones you must fear, Daoist Shi, are those outside. Rogue cultivators—thieves and vultures who will kill for the mere chance of possessing what you now hold. Keep this matter buried in your heart until the day you're strong enough to defend it."
Qian Mu reached into his sleeve and produced a pale jade lotus, its petals carved with intricate patterns that shimmered faintly with spiritual light. He held it between two fingers and offered it forward.
"Here—take this. A Transmission Lotus. Should you ever need to contact me for further touch-ups… or should a few of the older fellows within the Pavilion's circles decide they'd like to do business with you… this will serve as the bridge. Tear off a petal and crush it, if you wish to contact me."
Shi Yang's gaze lingered on the lotus before he accepted it, tucking it into his sleeve.
He gave a slow nod. Without another word, he pressed his Qi into the mirror. Ripples spread across its surface, and the figure within stirred faintly before sliding free. A flash of light burst, and the fish girl collapsed onto the floor, her small body limp but still breathing, scales glistening faintly under the lantern light.
He knelt, lifting her carefully onto his shoulders. She weighed little more than a child, her breathing steady, as if caught in a deep sleep. With his other hand, Shi Yang reached across the table, scooping the pouch of high-grade spirit stones into his sleeve before rising to his feet.
Qian Mu merely watched, his expression unreadable.
Shi Yang inclined his head slightly in thanks, then turned and strode from the chamber.
—
When he rejoined his group, the noisy clamor of the auction hall once again filled his ears. His gaze softened as it fell upon the seats. Little Yoke crouched atop the cushions, tail flicking in delight, batting playfully at a small white tiger cub that tumbled and pawed back with equal energy. The two beasts chirped and growled in their own way, their bond forming quickly.
A rare smile tugged at Shi Yang's lips. For a moment, the darkness of dealings above seemed far away.
Han Jie and Xiu Mei rose as he approached, their eyes flicking to the slumbering girl over his shoulder and the calm look on his face.
"It's time we leave," Shi Yang said simply. His voice carried a quiet firmness, enough that both women nodded without question.
Little Yoke yipped once, leaping back into his arms before climbing onto his other shoulder, while the tiger cub trailed close behind. Together, they made their way out of the pavilion, shadows at their backs and an uncertain road ahead.