Chapter Forty: The Mysterious Nine Yin Black Iron

As Sima Miao Miao finished speaking, the atmosphere in the hall became instantly electrified. People rubbed shoulders, eager to participate.

“Oh? It seems today’s auction will be extraordinary,” Yuan Tianzi said, keeping his head low as he watched the scene outside with careful attention.

Dugu Ling turned his head, puzzled. “Why do you say that?”

“Sima Miao Miao hasn’t hosted an auction in a long time. Ever since she became the chief of this auction house, she hasn’t presided over any events. That she’s taken the podium today shows how significant this occasion is for her,” Yuan Tianzi explained.

Dugu Ling nodded. Looking at the crowd outside, there were at least several hundred people seated, not counting those in private rooms. The stage was lavish, constructed from ivory, with an air of opulence that spoke of high status. Clearly, this auction was no ordinary event. He wondered if there might be something he desired among the offerings.

The first item brought up for auction was a sword of the Mortal-grade.

“What? The first lot is actually a Mortal-grade sword?” Yuan Tianzi exclaimed, rising in surprise.

“That’s nothing special; I can forge one myself now,” Dugu Ling said with a slight pout.

Yuan Shanshan, seeing Dugu Ling’s adorable expression, couldn’t help but cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“You can only make Mortal-grade weapons thanks to your Black Iron Hammer. But you must understand, aside from you, only cultivators of the High Immortal tier can forge Mortal-grade weapons. And those cultivators aren’t people ordinary folk can hire. Otherwise, the other families wouldn’t be coming to you, asking for Mortal-grade swords. Now you see how rare they are,” Yuan Tianzi explained.

But Dugu Ling truly didn’t grasp their rarity. His Black Iron Hammer was itself a magical artifact, and the ring on his finger was a divine item. How could he appreciate the preciousness of a Mortal-grade weapon? The well-fed never know the hunger of the poor.

As they spoke, the Mortal-grade sword on the stage had already reached a price of 100,000 gold coins.

Dugu Ling thought this must be the limit; after all, he’d only sold his own Mortal-grade weapon for 100,000.

Then Shanshan, using her enchanting voice, announced to the hall, “This sword is now at 100,000 gold coins. Is there anyone willing to bid higher? Remember, Mortal-grade swords are extremely rare: collector’s items for the home, and perfect for self-defense. Forged by Yuan Ming, the High Immortal, using the finest meteorite iron and jade steel. Any more bids?”

“I’ll offer 150,000 gold coins,” came a voice from the crowd.

“Zhao Fatty, you’re a businessman—what do you need a weapon for? I’ll take it: 200,000 gold coins, final offer!” Master Wang from the city’s martial hall shouted.

Because not everyone was destined to cultivate immortality, those unable to do so could only strengthen body and mind at the martial halls—perhaps even becoming generals one day. Cultivators, however, were bound by strict rules: they were forbidden from interfering in mortal wars unless faced with life and death. Thus, martial halls thrived among the common folk.

Dugu Ling listened in awe—200,000 gold coins, double the price of his own! He looked at Yuan Tianzi.

“That’s normal; it’s an auction, after all. One is willing to pay, one is willing to sell. Look at how many people showed up today. Wait until something truly valuable appears; then you’ll see that money really isn’t money anymore,” Yuan Tianzi replied, as if he already knew what Dugu Ling wanted to ask.

The auction raged on, and though several rare items were offered, none caught Dugu Ling’s interest. Yuan Tianzi and Yuan Shanshan were mostly there for the excitement, accompanying Dugu Ling in hopes of finding good ore; the rest didn’t matter to them.

Suddenly, an item presented on stage caught Dugu Ling’s eye.

“This is a piece of Nine Yin Black Iron, a material for forging Earth-grade artifacts. Legend says it can only be found in places of extreme cold and darkness; even near Cold Moon Mountain, it’s a rare treasure. Well, there’s no need to say more about such a fine item—let’s begin the bidding,” Sima Miao Miao declared seductively.

As the fist-sized chunk was brought forth, Dugu Ling clenched his hands tightly, his eyes shining with determination. He must have it, no matter what.

“Private Room Four, 500,000 gold coins,” Sima Miao Miao called from below.

Yuan Tianzi saw the Nine Yin Black Iron and knew Dugu Ling would want it, so he opened the bidding for him.

“Private Room Thirteen, 600,000 gold coins,” Sima Miao Miao said, excitement in her voice.

Yuan Tianzi had already started with a high number—the piece was usually worth around 400,000, but he’d added 100,000 to discourage competition. The crowd fell silent at his bid, but unexpectedly, someone in another private room raised the stakes.

“Who’s in Private Room Thirteen?” Dugu Ling asked, displeased. He’d thought the ore would be his, but now it was being snatched away.

“I don’t know,” Yuan Tianzi replied. “It must be someone from another city. In Cold Moon City, only the ten major families have private rooms, so numbers only go up to ten. Rooms beyond ten belong to outsiders, but I don’t know which city.”

Yuan Tianzi lowered his head in thought, then pressed 700,000 on the bidding device.

“Private Room Four has bid 700,000 gold coins! Any higher? This is material for an Earth-grade artifact—who knows what special properties the finished item might have?” Sima Miao Miao stirred the crowd.

In Private Room Thirteen, an elder asked, “Young Lord, what use is this Nine Yin Black Iron to you?”

A youth in splendid brocade sat on a fur chair, fanning himself leisurely. “The Divine Hidden Pavilion’s entrance ceremony is fast approaching. In past years, the best recruits brought Mortal-grade weapons, but this time, I will be the first to attend with an Earth-grade artifact.”

This youth had the same ambition as Dugu Ling.

“Private Room Thirteen bids 750,000 gold coins—an increase of fifty thousand! The guest there is truly wealthy. Any more bids? If not, this piece of Nine Yin Black Iron will belong to Private Room Thirteen!” Miao Miao deliberately fueled the excitement.

Dugu Ling was truly angry. “Tianzi, I must have that Black Iron, no matter what,” he said.

Yuan Tianzi looked at him and smiled, “Even if you hadn’t said so, I’d already planned on it. Let’s see if anyone can outspend our Iron Ox today.”

“Private Room Four bids 1,000,000 gold coins! One million gold coins—any higher?” Sima Miao Miao was startled by the number.

The thought that she’d unwittingly created a small miracle in auction history made Miao Miao’s heart race with excitement.

“One million gold—looks like Tianzi is truly fired up this time,” Ouyang Chi, seated in Private Room One, commented with a smile.

“Damn, one million gold coins!” The previously composed young lord in Private Room Thirteen could not help but stand up, swearing. If he were at home, he would surely have exploded with rage.

“One million gold, first call.”

“One million gold, second call.”

Ps: So tired—Jimmo just finished a chapter, and Jimmo has no drafts. The past few days on IVs have been exhausting. As soon as the chapter was done, I hurried to release it for everyone. If you have half a minute, please register an account and add Jimmo to your favorites; it would mean a lot. Thank you.