Chapter 70

Chapter 70: Spirit-Suppressing Pill

“What? It’s actually Clear-Heart Dew…”

The moment the name left someone’s mouth, the auction hall stirred like a pond struck by a stone.

On the second floor, in a small private room sealed off from the noise below, a man in black stepped out of the shadows as if he’d been waiting there the whole time.

“Young Lord,” he said, voice low with urgency. “It’s Clear-Heart Dew.”

Another man echoed him at once, as though afraid the first hadn’t been believed. “Young Lord, it really is Clear-Heart Dew.”

A partition cut the room in two. On the far side sat a man swallowed by dimness, only a thin blade of light touching him—just enough to outline a tall, elegant silhouette.

A Go board lay in front of him, the black and white stones locked in a stalemate. He held a white stone in his left hand and a black stone in his right.

Left hand against right. He’d been playing himself all along.

Outside the partition stood two men, both around their mid-twenties. One wore gray casual clothes, the other a black suit. Inside the partition, behind the seated man, another figure in black stood perfectly still, his face hidden.

Only his eyes showed—knife-sharp, cold, carrying a faint, blood-stained danger that made the air feel thinner.

“Young Lord,” the man in gray said carefully, “looks like the Si family is really going all in this time.”

From beginning to end, the seated man didn’t so much as tilt his head toward the stage. It was as if nothing happening below could possibly matter.

“Young Lord…”

The two outside exchanged a glance. They both understood the same truth: this time, they had to get it.

Clear-Heart Dew. The instant it appeared, it sent the entire hall into a frenzy.

But there were only three drops.

And without a powerful potion master, even if they bought it, it would be nothing but liquid locked inside glass.

Downstairs, bids snapped through the air.

“20 million!”

“25 million!”

“Tsk.” Si Jin Nan clicked his tongue, amused. “The Si family really is ruthless.”

Beside him, Qiao Qing Yan tilted her head. “Is that thing not worth much?”

“Hah.” He scoffed, eyes narrowed at the stage. “Real Clear-Heart Dew? Of course it’s worth a fortune. But that—”

He didn’t bother hiding the contempt in his tone.

“It’s been diluted.”

He leaned back as if disgusted by the thought. “It’s definitely Si Xiang Ting’s idea. Old Master Si really isn’t afraid of trashing the Si family’s reputation, the kind built over generations.”

In Cloud City, everyone knew the Si family had ties to potion masters. That was the real foundation beneath their wealth and power, the reason they’d stood firm for so long, the reason no one dared to bite.

Potion masters were too exalted. In Cloud City, even the great families didn’t pick fights with people like that.

Qiao Qing Yan’s gaze stayed on the stage. “What exactly is Clear-Heart Dew?”

Si Jin Nan blinked as if the question surprised him. “Do you even know what a potion master is?”

He turned—and saw her looking at him as if the answer was obvious.

Right. He almost forgot. Ordinary people didn’t know potion masters. Most hadn’t even heard the term.

How would she?

“Aren’t they just people who mix medicine and make drugs?” Qiao Qing Yan said easily, like it was no different from an ordinary doctor.

And honestly, that was exactly what she believed.

Si Jin Nan let out a breath through his nose. “Not just anyone can be called a potion master. Take Clear-Heart Dew, for example.”

“With pure Clear-Heart Dew, a single drop can save a life. It can give an old person another 10 years. It can buy someone on the brink of death three extra days—three days for emergency treatment, for miracles, for a last chance.”

“Even diluted Clear-Heart Dew can slow a virus spreading through the body and suppress it for a short time.”

Spirit-suppressing pill.

The words struck Qiao Qing Yan so hard her vision seemed to thin at the edges.

“Sister Yan, spirit-suppressing pill sounds too scary. If people outside hear it, they’ll be frightened, right?”

“It’s called spirit-suppressing pill.”

Two slightly childish voices—one boy, one girl—overlapped in her mind, clear as if whispered right beside her ear. The girl’s voice was unmistakable.

It was her own, from when she was little.

[Is this a lost memory that belongs to the original host?]

The sudden chill under her skin must have shown, because Si Jin Nan’s amusement vanished.

“Miss Qiao?” His voice tightened. “Are you okay?”