Holding the Sword to Carry Away Senior Sister (Transmigration) - Chapter 45

The private booths in the Chunlü Pavilion were specifically designed with specialized concealment arrays. From the window of a booth, one could clearly see the auction stage below, but those in the main hall could not peer inside.

The privacy was top-tier, though the cost of renting a booth was equally significant. Inside the spacious room, Fu Yan and Shui Liuqing gazed down at the stage. The platform was made of a simple yet elegant wood, and as the curtains were drawn and an elderly man stepped out, the crowd’s excitement finally boiled over.

“Finally starting! I’ve been sitting here so long I’m about to grow mushrooms!”

“Haha, that’s what you get for coming so early. I just got here. As they say, arriving early is never as good as arriving at the right time!”

“I wonder what treasures will appear in this small-scale auction. I missed the annual grand auction last time; I hope I can scavenge something good tonight.”

Amidst the chatter, the elderly man, known as Old Man Xu, stepped forward and signaled for silence.

“Welcome to Chunlü Pavilion. I am your auctioneer, Old Man Xu. I believe most of you know the rules, so I won’t waste any more of your time. I declare tonight’s auction officially open! Please bring out our first treasure!”

As he spoke, a graceful woman in a festive red robe walked out carrying a tray covered in red silk. Old Man Xu reached out and whipped away the silk, revealing two small, pitch-black round stones.

“Our first item: two True Essence Bombs,” he explained. “Forged from Thunder-Strike Stones, a single bomb carries the power of a full-strength strike from an Early Hedo stage expert. If used together, they could allow one to escape even from a Middle Hedo stage master. No cultivator ever complained about having too many life-saving cards. Starting bid: 300 low-grade spirit stones. Minimum increment: 100.”

The hall erupted. While some called them “disposable junk,” many rogue cultivators saw them as a rare chance to survive a deadly encounter.

“400 low-grade stones!”

“600!”

“1,000 stones! Damn it, I’m going all in!” a burly man shouted. He had recently offended a Hedo expert and was desperate.

The price eventually reached 1,500 stones before Old Man Xu brought down the gavel.

The second item was three Aura-Consolidating Pills, which eventually went for 2,800 low-grade stones. Fu Yan watched with interest but didn’t bid; she had plenty of those from Lang Meng’s stash.

“How many items are usually auctioned?” Fu Yan asked Shui Liuqing during the break.

“Usually ten items provided by the Pavilion, plus whatever is consigned by guests like you, Master. Usually no more than fifteen total.”

The third item was a Goshawk Flower, a plant from the Demon Realm whose nectar could neutralize a hundred poisons or provide a massive energy boost. Shui Liuqing’s eyes lit up. To her, this flower was a perfect base for a lethal toxin.

The bidding for the flower started at 1,500. Shui Liuqing waited until the momentum slowed and bid 2,400.

In the third booth to the left, Ye Zhiyan sat by the window. She hadn’t been watching the stage; she had been staring at Fu Yan’s booth.

“Are you sure she’s in that room?” she asked the guard.

“Yes, Miss. I saw her with my own eyes.”

Just then, the door opened and a woman named Cheng Wanwan walked in. She was a gifted adopted daughter of the Ye family, currently at the Great Circle of the Opening Light. “Zhiyan, you’re really here? I heard your brother was at the Pavilion, so I thought I’d stop by.”

Ye Zhiyan gave a faint, mocking curl of her lip. She knew Cheng Wanwan was obsessed with her brother, Ye Xuanhe.

Suddenly, she heard a bid from the booth opposite hers: “2,400 low-grade stones!”

Recognizing the voice, Ye Zhiyan smirked. As Old Man Xu prepared to close the deal, she called out: “2,600!”

“2,700!” Shui Liuqing countered.

“2,900!” Ye Zhiyan followed instantly.

“3,000!”

“3,200!”

Fu Yan realized what was happening. “Don’t bid anymore,” she told Shui Liuqing. “The flower is only worth about 2,000. She’s intentionally messing with us.”

Shui Liuqing conceded, and Ye Zhiyan won the flower for 3,500 stones—a massive overpayment, but one she didn’t care about.

The auction continued until the sixth item appeared.

“This is a consigned item,” Old Man Xu announced. “A Grade 4 body-tempering manual. I don’t need to explain the value of such a rare find to those of you without sect backgrounds. Starting bid: 3,000 low-grade stones. Minimum increment: 300.”

The hall went wild. Rogue cultivators who had reached the Late Opening Light stage without a proper body-tempering technique saw this as a game-changer.

“3,300!”

“3,600!”

Fu Yan smiled. Since Ye Zhiyan wanted to play, it was time to let her pay. She signaled Shui Liuqing to start bidding.

“4,500!” Shui Liuqing shouted.

“5,000!” Ye Zhiyan followed, her voice full of arrogance.

“5,300!”

“5,800!”

The crowd was stunned. “Again? These two are definitely at each other’s throats!”

“6,500!”

“6,800!”

Shui Liuqing looked at Fu Yan. The value of the manual was around 6,000. She wasn’t sure if they should push further. Fu Yan nodded with a playful smile.

“7,200!” Shui Liuqing called out.

“7,500!” Ye Zhiyan countered immediately. She was determined to make Fu Yan go home empty-handed.

Suddenly, a gravelly, aged voice from another booth cut in: “9,000 low-grade stones!”

The hall fell silent. The old man laughed. “That’s my entire fortune. If anyone goes a single stone higher, I’ll give up.”

Fu Yan frowned. She didn’t want the old man to win; she wanted Ye Zhiyan to pay. She nudged Shui Liuqing.

“9,300 stones,” Shui Liuqing called out, her voice trembling slightly for effect, making it seem like she was at her absolute limit.

Old Man Xu grinned. “9,300 once…”

“10,000 stones!” Ye Zhiyan’s voice rang out, clear and triumphant.

Whoosh! The hall was in an uproar. No one could believe the price.

Old Man Xu didn’t wait. “10,000 once! 10,000 twice! 10,000 three times! Sold! Congratulations to the guest in the booth!”

Inside her booth, Ye Zhiyan leaned back, a smug smile on her face. She must be crying right now, she thought.

In the opposite booth, Fu Yan was indeed “crying”—tears of joy as she calculated her massive profit. “I’m rich…” she whispered.

Shui Liuqing sat by her side, the silent, dutiful “tool” of the operation.