The words "Xuan-rank high-grade cultivation method" had no sooner been spoken than the auction hall fell abruptly silent.
Compared with the Foundation Liquid of a moment ago, the stir caused by a cultivation method of Dou Qi was far more earth-shaking. A medicinal pill, however precious, could only serve its master for a time — but a cultivation method of Dou Qi could serve him for a lifetime, and could even be passed down to his sons and grandsons. From a certain angle, then, a high-grade cultivation method drove men far more mad than any pill.
For with a high-grade method in hand, even without the support of spiritual medicines one could in time become a strong man of some standing. But if one had only medicines and no method, one might swallow pills like beans and still never become a true expert. A method was the foundation of everything — the longer a family held one, the deeper its roots grew.
For a long moment the hall was stunned, and then, one by one, men came to their senses. A host of burning gazes fastened themselves deathly upon the green scroll upon the stage, until even the charming Ya Fei seemed, for a while, to be forgotten. Somewhere in the crowd, a low, restless whisper began to build — wild talk of what the scroll might fetch, of which clan might seize it, of the fortunes it might reshape.
Xiao Yan, seated toward the rear, let out a soft breath. A Xuan-rank high-grade cultivation method? No wonder... A method of this rank was far superior to the very best the Xiao Clan possessed. No wonder his father and the heads of the other two clans had come in person, no wonder they had sat so calmly through the earlier bidding. It had all been for this.
"A high-grade method of the Xuan rank... I'm afraid even the great clans would go scrambling for a thing like this." Quietly, Xiao Yan passed judgment.
As the shock faded into a rising tide of excited murmurs, the three heads of the clans seated at the very front slowly straightened. Here at last was what they had all been waiting for — the one treasure that could improve the fortunes of a family for generations to come. The Foundation Liquid had been nothing more than a warm-up; this scroll was the true prize.
Jia Lie Bi was the first to move. Seated beside Xiao Zhan, he rose, his voice cutting through the din of the hall. "Thirty thousand gold coins!"
The clamor died at once. All eyes turned toward him. It had been only moments since the Foundation Liquid had gone for forty thousand, and here was this veteran of the auction house already throwing down thirty thousand without a flicker of hesitation. Most of those present knew better than to contend with him — the Jia Lie Clan's wealth was no small matter within Wutan City, and its head was not a man given to empty boasts or half-hearted bids.
Ao Ba Pa did not hesitate either. He and Jia Lie Bi were old rivals, and neither would stand idly by while the other profited. "Thirty-five thousand!"
"Forty thousand!" Jia Lie Bi's counter came almost before the last echo had faded.
The two stared at each other, neither willing to yield. The crowd held its breath, watching. Many had expected Xiao Zhan to join the fray — after all, the Xiao Clan's need for a high-grade method was scarcely a secret. But the man sat motionless, his eyes half-closed, as though he had resigned himself to the matter of the Foundation Liquid alone. None guessed that in truth his heart was weighed down by calculation, that he had spent a large sum already and dared not risk the clan's coffers any further.
"Forty-five thousand!" Ao Ba Pa ground out through clenched teeth.
"Fifty thousand!" Jia Lie Bi's voice was steady, but a vein stood out upon his forehead.
The price soared. What had begun as a bidding war had swiftly turned into a contest of pride between the two clans. Whatever the Wind Roll Technique was truly worth, neither could now afford to pull back in front of so many witnesses — to retreat would be to lose face before half of Wutan City.
"Fifty-five thousand!" Ao Ba Pa cried, sweat beading on his brow.
Jia Lie Bi fell silent for a long moment, wrestling with himself. He had come prepared to pay a heavy price — a method like this could decide the fates of the next generation, and in that, no sum was too great. Yet even he had not foreseen quite how bitter a struggle this would become. To be bled dry by Ao Ba Pa of all people was an insult he could not stomach, yet to lose the scroll entirely was unthinkable. At last, with a hoarse voice, he declared: "Sixty thousand!"
The hall gasped. Sixty thousand gold coins — for a single scroll of a cultivation method. Many there had never seen such a sum laid out at a single stroke, and the mere thought of it left them dazed.
Ao Ba Pa's face contorted. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had carved out a territory of his own, it was true, but the Ao Ba Clan could not match the Jia Lie Clan in sheer wealth. To continue now would be to bleed himself white for nothing. With a bitter shake of the head, he sank back into his seat, conceding defeat.
"Sixty thousand gold coins. Is there any higher bidder?" Ya Fei's sweet voice floated across the hall, but no one dared raise a hand.
Seeing the room fall still, she gave a small, elegant smile. She had not been ruffled in the least by Jia Lie Bi's earlier glare — her half-lowered eyes held just a glimmer of amusement and mockery as the little hammer in her jade-white hand, under Jia Lie Bi's intense scrutiny, came down upon the table.
"The Wind Roll Technique is won by Clan Head Jia Lie Bi!"
Jia Lie Bi's fists clenched, yet at the same time a long, unspoken tension drained from his shoulders. The treasured method — the foundation that could lift his family — had finally fallen into his hands.
Watching the closing scene from the shadows, Xiao Yan could not help but smile faintly. Slowly, he rose to his feet, stretched once, and made his way out of the auction hall.
The man who had genuinely profited from this night was none other than himself — his father had bought back the Foundation Liquid without a word, and the Jia Lie Clan had paid a king's ransom for a technique that would take them years to master. A small smile tugged at the corner of Xiao Yan's mouth. It was best not to think on such things; if anyone noticed, trouble would surely follow.
With the night air cool upon his face, he walked out through the door. Above, the moon hung pale and remote over Wutan City. Drawing a deep breath, he murmured to himself with a low laugh: "Ah, well. Once I have the money in hand, I'll throw myself into training. A year from now, I still have to give Father a pleasant surprise."