Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Tian Lai City Auction

An Ze’s parents had always lived at the An Family’s main residence. They’d been assigned to guard a spirit artifact shop in the city—easy work, generous benefits, and something they’d always been proud of.

It had only been a few days since he’d last spoken to them. And now they’d been reassigned?

“Was it Song Wan Ning?” His voice cracked with panic and rage. “Was she getting back at me—moving my parents away on purpose? Was it her?”

He seized the man in front of him by the collar like a madman, shaking him as he roared.

The man grimaced, pried An Ze’s hand off, and curled his lip in disdain. “You think True Lord Song has nothing better to do? You really think she’d waste her time having your parents moved?”

“It was the family head,” he added coldly. “He didn’t want your parents freeloading anymore. All these years, they’ve taken plenty of benefits in secret. The family head didn’t even settle accounts with them—that was mercy.”

He stepped closer, eyes sharp. “If you dare make a scene, just wait. Your whole family will get kicked out of the clan.”

Then, as if remembering something hilarious, he tipped his chin and sneered. “But I guess you don’t care. You’ve got that… Ye Chu Xue protecting you, right?”

“Hahahahaha—”

The group exploded into loud laughter. No one cared how An Ze stood there, breathing hard, face ashen. Arms slung over each other’s shoulders, they swaggered off, still laughing as if they’d just watched a cheap performance.

An Ze remained rooted in place, humiliation burning through his throat like bile.

—

He returned to the Heaven-Questioning Sect in a daze.

No matter where he went, people pointed and whispered. Some didn’t even bother lowering their voices. The sound followed him like a swarm, needling, laughing, savoring his fall.

He had gone from a true disciple to a powerless Inner Sect disciple. The drop was so steep he couldn’t breathe in it.

Worse, he couldn’t bear their smug, gloating looks—like he deserved this, like it was overdue.

Still, with Bai Yang and Ye Chu Xue around, no one in the sect dared openly bully him. They just stopped smiling. Stopped greeting. Stopped pretending. After all, An Ze had offended plenty of people when he’d been high above them.

When he reached Ye Chu Xue’s door, he felt the weight of guilt press into his spine. He’d gone out to help, and he’d come back empty-handed—worse than empty-handed. He looked like he’d been scraped hollow.

Ye Chu Xue sensed something immediately. She spoke to him gently, soothed him as best she could, then entrusted Gu Qing Yuan to his care and prepared to head to Tian Lai City.

Tian Lai City wasn’t far from the Heaven-Questioning Sect. At most, half a day.

As soon as Ye Chu Xue left the sect, Bai Yang followed behind.

She glanced at him once, her expression unreadable, and said nothing to stop him.

They traveled without a word, hurrying toward Tian Lai City.

Somewhere along the way, a small rift had formed between them. Maybe it had started when Bai Yang hadn’t stood firmly and openly against Song Wan Ning. Maybe it had started earlier. Either way, it was there now—thin, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

—

At the Shen Xing Tian Xia Auction House in Tian Lai City, Song Wan Ning sat in the seat of honor. A pill bottle rested on the table before her, holding the Heaven-Origin Heart-Nourishing Pill she had yet to take.

“Master,” the shopkeeper said, staring at the bottle as if it were made of his own flesh and blood, “are you sure you want to auction this?”

His reluctance almost hurt to look at.

The Heaven-Origin Heart-Nourishing Pill was nearly impossible to obtain. Master had gone to great lengths to refine a few. Now only this one remained.

And Master wasn’t short on money. There was no reason to auction something that could save a life.

“Auction it.” Song Wan Ning twirled a strand of hair around her finger, then pushed the bottle toward him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The shopkeeper took it like he was accepting a death sentence.

“Let A Yue host this auction,” she added, as if she were talking about the weather.

“A Yue?” The shopkeeper’s confusion deepened into alarm. “Master, I’m afraid he’s not qualified.”

A Yue had only joined the auction house two years ago. He hadn’t hosted a proper auction once. The shopkeeper feared he wouldn’t be able to hold the room—especially not with something like this.

“Just do as I say.” Song Wan Ning flicked her hand, impatience sharp at the edge of her voice.

She knew he meant well. She simply had no interest in explaining herself.

The shopkeeper could only leave with the bottle.

Soon, only Song Wan Ning remained.

She walked to the window and leaned on the railing. From here, she could see the street below clearly enough.

Ye Chu Xue and Bai Yang came into view.

The two arrived together and checked into an inn not far away.

“Sister, sister.”

In her sea of consciousness, a voice that sounded neither male nor female rang out, bright with excitement. It belonged to the Little Golden Sword.

A Sword Spirit.

But not the kind bound to a life sword. This Sword Spirit had been born from Song Wan Ning herself, wholly unrelated to her natal blade.

Not only was it fully aware, its power was extraordinary.

During her last closed-door training, when she comprehended the Killing Sword Intent, the Little Golden Sword awakened intelligence—and its strength surged. The moment it awakened, it had even helped her break through in a single push, advancing smoothly.

Immortal Lord Mo Yang’s inheritance… even catching a glimpse of it was more than enough.

“Sister, sister,” the Little Golden Sword chirped, zipping through her sea of consciousness like an overexcited child with a knife tucked behind its smile, “is that A Yue the Demon Clan Young Lord you mentioned—Mo Yuan?”

Song Wan Ning withdrew her gaze from the window, returned to the table, and poured herself a cup of hot tea.

Steam curled upward. Through it, her lips curved slightly.

“Yes.”

“Who would’ve thought,” she said softly, “that the Demon Clan Young Lord—driven to the brink by his father and brothers years ago—would lower himself to stay in my little auction house?”

If she hadn’t lived through it once in her previous life, she wouldn’t have believed it either.

Mo Yuan should have inherited the position of Demon Clan Sovereign. Instead, his useless father had joined forces with an illegitimate son and forced Mo Yuan into a dead end, nearly burning him alive.

Mo Yuan escaped by sheer luck, fled all the way to Tian Lai City, and hid his identity as an attendant at Shen Xing Tian Xia.

In her previous life, Mo Yuan met Ye Chu Xue at this very auction.

When Mo Yuan was being scolded, Ye Chu Xue stepped forward and helped him. He fell for her in an instant. From then on, he walked an unshakable path as the “supporting male lead.”

Ye Chu Xue didn’t care about his Demon Clan identity. She even helped him reclaim the position of Demon Clan Sovereign in the end.

From that day on, the Demon Clan became the power behind Ye Chu Xue.

And of course, besides the Demon Clan, the Monster Clan wouldn’t let things go either.

Everything in the world paved the way for Ye Chu Xue to ascend—without caring whether cannon fodder like them lived or died.

Song Wan Ning’s eyes shifted, and cold amusement gathered at the corner of her mouth.

This time, she would let their bond grow even deeper.

—

The auction arrived as scheduled.

Cultivators crowded the hall. Many were familiar faces from nearby cities, and plenty more had come from afar, eyes bright with anticipation.

As usual, everyone wore cloaks that could block spiritual sense, making it impossible to discern their true appearance.

And when it was time to leave, everyone would depart through the auction house’s teleportation array. The destination was random—no one could predict where they’d land.

It was how the Shen Xing Tian Xia Auction House protected its guests, as much as anyone could in this world.

With Heaven-Questioning Sect true disciple tokens in hand, Ye Chu Xue and Bai Yang easily entered a private room on the third floor.

Down in the main hall, a crowd of cultivators watched them with open jealousy.

They had just sat when a commotion rose below.

“It’s people from the Yun Family of Yun Xiang City!”

“Hiss—could the one leading them be Yun Jin Yue, the Young Lord of Yun Xiang City?”

“So beautiful!”

Necks craned. Eyes stretched toward the entrance.

Curious despite themselves, Ye Chu Xue and Bai Yang looked down as well.

A figure in a blue immortal dress stepped into view.