Chapter Sixteen: The Unexpected

The steward paid no mind and fixed his gaze entirely on Xu Yuanming. It was clear this man was the leader. With a smile, he said, “Of course. First, we need to confirm whether you are our guest.”

Xu Yuanming took out five gold bricks and handed them over.

These gold bricks were quite valuable—enough that an ordinary family’s annual expenses wouldn’t exhaust them even in fifty years.

The steward nodded slightly but still showed little concern. With a hint of disdain, he produced a token and let the two enter.

Xu Yuanming was unbothered; he took the token and proceeded to the location inscribed on it.

The room they entered was the lowest tier among the third-class rooms, yet it still offered steaming hot tea, freshly brewed, with fruit and snacks placed nearby.

Xie Peiling sat in a chair and looked at Xu Yuanming, asking, “What are we doing here?”

Xu Yuanming replied, “The organizer of this auction isn’t from Humingzhou, and I’ve seen the person in charge before—there’s something fishy.”

“Is that all?”

“No, the Chu family has also sent people. Both points are significant and cannot be overlooked. We can’t meet with them either. They won’t speak up, and if they sense we’re onto something, they might even take their own lives. So we have to proceed carefully, step by step.”

Xie Peiling nodded, feeling a bit bored, and once again took out the Yang Zufei sword manual to read.

Cultivators generally practiced at night; though some immersed themselves all day, that wasn’t the norm. Thus, the auction was mainly held during the day. The rooms here were completely sealed, without windows, and the single door was tightly closed.

Before long, the voice of the person in charge reached their ears, and all the auction items were projected onto the walls.

Xie Peiling found this quite novel—it was his first time seeing such a display—while Xu Yuanming remained indifferent.

The auction began with common goods: herbs, porcelain, jade utensils.

All were ordinary objects with few bidders.

As the auction progressed, the items became more refined, ascending beyond the mundane.

One item was a talisman designed to dispel spirits and demons. The announcer boasted of its power, yet it lacked any rank and might provoke demons, possibly leading to one’s death.

Next came a rare treasure: jade liquid stored in a jade bottle, primarily for healing wounds. It was extremely scarce, suitable for severely injured people who couldn’t absorb pills or for mortals without cultivation.

Most attendees were wealthy mortals. Before they could bid, an old yet gentle voice spoke.

“Everyone, I am a humble monk from Wuguo Temple. This item is critical—I need it to save the city’s people.”

Wuguo Temple was a renowned Buddhist monastery in Humingzhou, nearly as respected as Yingtian Taoist Temple. No one expected to see its high monk at such a modest, hastily arranged auction.

Regarding the city’s people, others were unmoved. In today’s chaotic world, even they were but fragile boats struggling to survive, let alone spending money to aid the populace.

Yet this statement greatly increased the attendees' goodwill toward Wuguo Temple. If even strangers could receive help, what about them?

Many here thought it wise to yield to the temple’s monk, believing that if danger arose, he would not stand idly by.

This sentiment spread quickly. Doors opened, with many expressing admiration for the monk’s virtues, introducing themselves and claiming similar needs, willing to forgo bidding for the sake of the city’s people.

Xie Peiling was surprised. He opened his door too and saw that the Wuguo monks had stepped out—not just one, but two: an elder and a younger, wearing worn, faded robes. Their eyes were cast low, faces weathered by hardship, yet they exuded a profound calm and trustworthiness at first glance.

Xie Peiling looked at Xu Yuanming and asked, “Do we need this?”

The monks’ plea was born of necessity. Even Xie Peiling, who had grown up in a Taoist temple, knew these monks were extremely poor.

So poor that together, the two monks probably had less silver than he carried.

Soon, more voices emerged. Though fewer than before, these people carried far more weight than the wealthy merchants.

“Respected monks of Wuguo Temple, rest assured. Our Yingtian Taoist Temple will withdraw from this bid.”

“The Mo Ping Sect has no objections.”

“...”

With these declarations, everyone understood the situation.

But just as the auctioneer smiled and addressed the monks, “Revered monks, this bottle…”

Before anyone could congratulate them, a cold voice suddenly echoed from the far corner.

“I want to ask you—does this auction house even want to continue? What is the meaning of all this? Do you truly believe no one wants these items?”

“Ten spirit stones. We accept.”

At that moment, Xie Peiling looked toward Xu Yuanming, who had risen and loudly declared, “The monks of Wuguo Temple urgently need this to save the people. Sir… may I ask what you mean by such words?”

The crowd turned to locate the voice. The bidder was in a first-class room—though from a minor sect, it was still a cultivation group. Publicly insulting the monks was a grave insult.

The challenger’s voice was icy.

“You’re just trash confined to Room 315. How dare you bark so boldly?”

Faces changed as all eyes turned to Room 315. It was filled mostly with wealthy merchants, none cultivators. The voice was clearly from a youth. Those admitted here all wielded some influence. People sighed, wondering which young master had lost all sense of propriety.

Even if one wished to befriend the monks, there was no need for such rudeness.

The steward sighed, addressing the cultivator in the first-class room.

“Brother, why be like this?”

“Organizer, what do you mean? Do you still have any shame? Deciding who gets the items before bidding even starts—what kind of business is this? Are you trying to get kicked out of Yian City?”

“Brother, you did say—this is Yian City.”

“Rules are rules. What can you do to me? Planning to team up with everyone here to kill us?”