The auction hall stood majestic despite its simplicity, every corner radiating order that made anyone feel both awe and caution. In the center of the room, a small stage became the focus of attention, surrounded by circular benches filled with about a thousand seats—all neatly arranged, as if waiting for a certain moment to come alive.
On the second floor, twenty-five private rooms awaited qualified participants, filled with the light scent of incense, giving a sacred impression. On the third floor, ten exclusive rooms were reserved for distinguished guests—renowned cultivators and nobles from various sects, present with an aura that weighed on every step of ordinary people, as though every movement measured their level of greatness.
The noisy hall gradually quieted. Time seemed drawn to a single point: the stage. A young girl in striking red clothing stepped onto it, each of her movements graceful, full of confidence. Her black hair was neatly arranged, yet her eyes shone sharply, as if piercing through every soul in the room.
She took a breath, and then her voice shattered the silence, echoing through every corner of the hall:
"Ladies and gentlemen," May's voice rang clear, flowing like a bell breaking the silence of the hall.
"Thank you for your presence. My name is May, and I will be leading today's event."
She gazed across the room, her sharp eyes piercing the crowd, as if assessing every hidden intention and strategy behind the participants' faces. A faint smile curved on her lips, warm yet carrying an undeniable authority.
"Without further delay, today's auction is officially open!"
Her voice echoed, filling every corner of the hall, making every participant straighten their backs, ready to face a moment that might decide their fate.
"The rare items to be auctioned this time… are not things one can encounter every day. The rules are simple: whoever bids the highest shall own it."
Her eyes swept across the room, one participant after another. She stood calmly at the center, her expression composed, but her gaze sharp, evaluating every movement, every expression, as if trying to read her opponents' strategies before the auction began.
A thin tension filled the air, almost like static electricity. Cultivators on the upper floors held their breaths, as though even a single inhalation could shift the course of the world. And here, in this simple yet sacred hall, the game of power and ambition was about to begin.
May lowered her head briefly, then opened a small box beside her. The spotlight reflected off the object displayed inside.
"The first item to be auctioned," her voice grew heavier, filled with authority,
"is a Rare Qi Stone from the Black Mist Forest. This stone… was found in the possession of a cultivator who failed to break through the Heaven and Human Realms. After identification, one of its uses is to… purify external spiritual energy, and it may even expand the spiritual sea. For other uses, please conduct further identification."
The hall roared as May's gavel struck, marking the start of the auction. Spiritual stones, legendary swords, and fragments of ancient maps were auctioned one by one. Bidding numbers rose higher and higher, making the atmosphere thrum hot with the aura of competition.
Bai Tian stood at the edge of the hall, his eyes sharp on every item, every participant. Each leap in bidding jolted his heart—not merely out of envy, but from a yearning to possess the power hidden within those items. Yet the bitter truth: his pockets were empty, and for now he was merely a spectator in a world far beyond his reach.
On the upper floors, renowned cultivators and nobles from wealthy families exchanged glances. Their bids were not just numbers, but symbols of strength and influence. Some bid high just to humiliate rivals, while others laughed softly when securing items deemed crucial for their sects.
May brought the final auction item to a close. Her gavel struck, but the tension lingered. Many participants were disappointed—70% of the items had fallen into the hands of wealthy families, leaving ordinary participants like Bai Tian in emptiness and frustration.
Yet Bai Tian did not entirely give up. His eyes still burned with steady resolve. He studied the winners, noting their strategies and weaknesses. In his heart, he whispered to himself:
"It's painful to be poor… If only I had enough money."
In the hall, now slowly emptying, the aura of rare items and powerful cultivators still lingered. The tension gradually shifted into murmurs of strategy, and Bai Tian knew this world was full of intrigue—not only about what could be bought, but about who could endure, wait, and eventually reclaim what should be his.
At last, Bai Tian decided to return to his sect. His steps were firm, though his mind still lingered on the events of the auction. Upon arriving at the mission hall, he received the reward that was rightfully his, though its value fell far short of his expectations.
Afterwards, without wasting time, Bai Tian headed to Spirit Mountain, where he sold his spoils. The cold, fresh mountain air greeted him, while the lingering scent of minerals and spiritual energy from each item brought him slight relief. He exchanged the rare items for some essential supplies and spirit stones, enough to strengthen his training and preparations for what was to come.
Work completed, Bai Tian returned to his residence and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Bai Tian awoke still feeling weary, though his mind remained sharp. He immediately checked his communication artifact, hoping for tasks or missions to undertake. After some time browsing, his face tightened slightly—there were no tasks available today.
He rose from his bed, tidied himself briefly, then began laying out the items he had obtained from his journey. One by one, he sorted them, assessing the value, function, and potential of each. After a while, his attention settled on an old furnace he had bought by the roadside—an object that at first glance appeared ordinary, even trivial.
He examined the furnace closely, searching for signs of uniqueness, hidden energy, or aura concealed within. But after long observation, disappointment struck—the furnace seemed ordinary, just an old metal shell devoid of any magic.
Frustration stirred his blood. Without much thought, Bai Tian summoned his flame seed, ignited it in his hand, and burned the furnace fiercely. Fire roared wildly, dancing and howling, searing the old metal until sparks burst into the air. The sound of heated metal cracking and the scent of burning filled the room, but behind the fury, Bai Tian's eyes gleamed—this was not merely anger, but practice, experiment, and the release of long-suppressed energy.
Gradually, the furnace began to reveal strange patterns at its base—fine lines winding as though mapping hidden energy channels. Bai Tian studied them intently, hope rising within him.
Yet, after two hours, no further patterns appeared. His face tightened, his eyes heavy with fatigue and drowsiness. With a heavy heart, he withdrew his flame seed from the furnace, exhaling deeply.
Sweat drenched his forehead, his muscles ached, but within his heart, the fire of determination still burned. Though the furnace had not fully revealed its secrets, Bai Tian knew this was only the first step. The faint patterns that had appeared were enough to ignite his curiosity—something hidden awaited discovery.
He stared at the furnace once more before lowering himself to the floor, letting exhaustion overtake his consciousness. Tonight may have been wasted for his body, but the seeds of curiosity and determination still smoldered, awaiting the next chance to be tested again.