Chapter 0113

Chapter 113: Me, Your Ancestor, Send the Money!

The hall roared with noise. What treasure could match a Glazed Divine Deer scent pouch? This was a chance to become a Saint.

“Aren’t you afraid of losing out?” someone asked, full of disbelief.

Zhao Wu Tian’s righteous voice floated down from above as he said: “Such a treasure should go to a virtuous person. I dare not take it.” He then added in a noble tone: “I will auction the treasures we receive in trade and not keep a single spirit stone. All proceeds will go to help the suffering people of the Empire.”

Many frowned. That did not fit Zhao Wu Tian’s character at all. Yet a few mindless followers bowed toward the ceiling as they said: “Sir, you are a true model. I misjudged you before!” and “Such lofty virtue deserves praise. I will tell the world of your great heart!”

In Heaven No. 1, Mu Rong Ya and the little demoness gagged, and Zhou Tong almost burst into laughter. A man ready to sacrifice everyone was spouting words about justice and kindness. It was absurd.

“Enough talk. I’ll open with a bang,” a burly man boomed as he lifted a heavy weapon in his palm and said: “This Demon Subduing Pestle can be used three times, and each strike has the power of a peak Reincarnation Realm expert!”

It was a fine treasure, good for saving your life or killing an enemy, and eyes turned his way. But its weight still fell short.

“Watch mine,” others shouted as they rushed to show their goods. In a blink, treasures kept coming: a Thousand Realms Pagoda, a Ten Thousand Pools Drum, an Asura Umbrella, a Jade Emperor Bell, and more. The flood of items dazzled the onlookers.

“Good, good, all good treasures. I’m going to clean up today,” Zhao Wu Tian murmured above, eyes hungry. He carefully recorded each offer. With sixty thousand people here, he had no time to check every Signet Ring. Better to draw the snakes from their holes and make people reveal their wealth on their own, then harvest them with precision later.

“Worthy of a State Preceptor,” Devil Marshal Tun Yuan sneered as he said: “Using a useless pouch to reach your goal. When it comes to schemes, you Humans are the best.”

A shard of cold light flashed in Zhao Wu Tian’s eyes. He decided then and there to tear that Devil Marshal into pieces.

“These are nothing but trinkets,” a dry voice cut through the noise. A slim middle-aged man stood there. He wasn’t handsome, but his bearing was sharp; his sword-like brows and keen eyes shone with edge.

“Brother, what heavy treasure do you have? Show us and open our eyes,” several called, angry and glaring.

The man kept his cool face. Under thousands of eyes, he plucked a single black hair as he said: “I’ll trade this hair. How about it?”

For a beat the room went still. Then laughter exploded: “Seeking attention. What a clown!” and “He’s mad. Ignore the fool.”

Most laughed, but a few did not. Mu Rong Ya, You Jing Feng, and Zhou Tong all wore solemn looks. They saw it clearly: this man was a Saint. He was a Sword Saint. Zhou Tong had met him in his past life and fought him at his peak. The man had lasted three full moves. He was also the Wordless Root of Wisdom. Long Ling Yun’s inheritance came from him. It was no exaggeration to say that one hair of his could easily cut down a Half Saint.

Zhao Wu Tian didn’t even realize what he had just missed.

“If you won’t bring out something worthy, then my Jade Purity Sect will,” Mo Liu Su said as she stepped forward again. Raising both hands, she held a blazing light, as if lifting a small sun, and the hall erupted as someone cried: “Solar True Fire!”

It was a newborn sun. Its value was beyond counting. If a cultivator who walked the Flame Dao refined it, becoming a Saint would be a sure thing.

“Barring surprises, that will be the final trade,” You Ye Lan whispered as she looked at the old master beside her and said: “Grandfather, your path is fire. When they trade the Solar True Fire, I’ll buy it for you!”

“Hahaha, you girl,” the old man said fondly as he smiled and added: “If I want something, I don’t need you to spend for me.”

He opened his Signet Ring as he spoke, then froze. It was empty.

“Ahem,” he coughed.

“Grandfather, don’t pretend. Father told me long ago you never bring money when you go out,” You Ye Lan said.

“That big mouth. I’ll rip his tongue out one day,” the old man muttered, then waved a hand and said: “At my age, money is just a worldly thing. Even the Solar True Fire can’t move me. Let’s drop it.”

You Ye Lan started to insist, but You Jing Feng stopped her again.

“The Solar True Fire, any more trades?” the attendant called, raising a small gavel. He counted for the crowd as he said: “Solar True Fire once… Solar True Fire twice… Solar True Fire thr—”

“A ninth-grade Talisman,” a calm voice floated out of Heaven No. 1. The words were soft but hit like thunder, making every spine go stiff. Many had never seen a ninth-grade treasure in their lives. A ninth-grade Talisman was said to wound even a Saint.

You Ye Lan noticed the old master to her side had his eyes wide open, looking nothing like a man beyond desire. The elder running the auction trembled and asked: “May we examine it?”

“Sigil Ninety-One, Thousand-Hand Bright Sky Purge Cannon,” came the reply.

Zhou Tong had created the Talisman, then borrowed Mu Rong Ya’s spiritual power to infuse it with saintly essence. Her steady Saint-level power was far easier to use than his own wild force. Working together, they made a true ninth-grade Talisman.

Silence fell. The pressure and the aura did not lie. Many didn’t even dare look straight at it. It was definitely ninth-grade.

“Hmph. One ninth-grade Talisman may not be worth more than the Solar True Fire,” Mo Liu Su said, refusing to yield.

“Then make it three,” Zhou Tong answered. He flicked his hand, and two more Talismans sailed out, drawing a storm of gasps.

“Sold!” the elder barked as he brought the gavel down without a moment’s pause. He did not believe anyone could top that.

“Cursed,” Mo Liu Su hissed, face iron blue. The duck that had flown to her lips was gone.

Smiling, Zhou Tong put the scent pouch away, cabinet and all, taking the Nethergold chest with it.

“Next, by the Sect Master’s rule, we will auction these three Talismans,” the attendant announced.

You Jing Feng almost jumped to his feet. He had to win them. His family’s fate depended on it.

“Girl, hand over all your spirit stones,” the kindly grandfather turned bandit in a blink, eyes sharp on the girl beside him.

“Grandfather, I have one hundred million spirit stones,” You Ye Lan said, voice trembling.

“Not enough. Contact the clan. Now,” he ordered.

You Ye Lan hurried to obey. She activated her Jade Pendant, and soon the two of them heard You Feng’s voice come through as he asked: “Who is this?”

The old man didn’t hesitate as he snapped: “Me, your ancestor. Send the money!”