In that case, Su Miaomiao was absolutely lying. Her claim of liquidating her deceased Dao companion's inheritance was nothing but sheer nonsense.

The original masters of these Magical Artifacts had undoubtedly been slaughtered by Su Miaomiao.

Xu Changshou recalled the night she attempted to ensnare him with her demonic Charm Technique, and a chilling numbness crawled over his scalp.

Fortunately, her demonic arts had failed to breach his Dao heart. Otherwise, his own Five Clouds Sword would likely be sitting on that counter today.

This temporary ally was terrifyingly sinister!

It was a stroke of fortune that he had stumbled upon her here; otherwise, he would have remained blind to the depths of her venomous nature.

However, upon deeper contemplation, Xu Changshou’s mind settled.

It made perfect sense. A seemingly frail female cultivator lacking ruthless methods would never dare traverse the desolate wastes alone.

Furthermore, integrating herself into Li Linhao's party before forcibly dragging him into the fold was undoubtedly part of a larger, bloodier scheme.

Was it possible that both he and Li Linhao were marked as her next prey?

Reaching this conclusion, the killing intent in Xu Changshou's heart surged.

This demonic enchantress was a master of deception. Her previous display of fragile vulnerability had been a flawless illusion.

"Esteemed guest, the total comes to two hundred and ninety Spirit Stones. If karmic winds bring you further fortunes, please consider gracing our humble pavilion again."

"Naturally."

"May the Dao guide your steps!"

The old shopkeeper bowed Su Miaomiao out with a radiant, sycophantic smile.

Only then did his shrewd gaze shift to Xu Changshou: "Fellow Daoist, what treasures do you wish to part with today?"

"I possess two Pseudo-Artifacts. Shopkeeper, appraise them."

As he spoke, Xu Changshou tapped his Storage Bag, drawing forth two separate longswords.

"The Crimson Refining Sword and the Azure Edge Sword. Both are standard Pseudo-Artifacts of the Joyous Union Sect, bearing mediocre spiritual pressure. Fellow Daoist, if you are willing to part with them, I shall offer a total of one hundred Spirit Stones. Fifty Spirit Stones for each blade."

"Acceptable. The transaction is complete!"

Xu Changshou offered a curt nod.

Back in the day, Ye Shanhu had estimated each blade at roughly sixty Spirit Stones. Fencing bloody loot in a Wanxian Market pavilion naturally incurred a heavy discount.

"Here are one hundred Spirit Stones. May your Dao be eternal, Fellow Daoist!"

"Farewell."

Stepping back into the bustling street, Xu Changshou swept his Divine Sense through his Storage Bag to calculate his total wealth.

At present, he held a grand total of five hundred and thirteen Spirit Stones.

This fortune was more than sufficient to seize the Moon-Gazing Rhinoceros Horn during the auction.

The absolute market value of a Moon-Gazing Rhinoceros Horn would never exceed fifty Spirit Stones. However, due to its scarcity and the frenzied nature of an auction, desperate cultivators would hoard funds in advance, inevitably inflating the final bid.

Yet, regardless of how fierce the bidding war grew, Xu Changshou calculated the final price would never breach the one-hundred-stone mark.

After all, one hundred Spirit Stones was enough to purchase a premium Pseudo-Artifact.

Over the ensuing days, Xu Changshou casually wandered the vast expanse of Wanxian Market, procuring minor Cultivation essentials.

During this time, he mapped the city's intricate layout within his mind.

Founded on the terrifying prestige of the Wu Zhou Old Demon, Wanxian Market had flourished into the most prosperous commercial nexus in the Eastern Corner's Cultivation world.

Wanxian Tower was far from the sole merchant faction; every major Sect maintained a deeply entrenched pavilion within these walls.

Even the legendary Wanbao Pavilion operated a formidable branch here.

Yet, the absolute hegemon of commerce remained Wanxian Tower, naturally supported by the absolute authority of the Wu Zhou Old Demon.

Wanxian Tower was not merely a monolithic emporium; it also housed the grand auction arena.

The arena hosted three distinct tiers of auctions: standard daily auctions, minor auctions, and grand auctions.

Standard auctions were held on the first dawn of every month.

Minor auctions occurred annually, strictly catering to Qi Condensation cultivators, though Foundation Establishment grandmasters occasionally lowered themselves to participate.

Grand auctions erupted only once every three years, tailored exclusively for the Foundation Establishment realm, sometimes even drawing out reclusive Golden Core almighties.

Regardless of the tier, the primary auction manifest was broadcast across the wasteland three full months in advance.

Flooding the realm with this knowledge ensured that powerful cultivators could amass the necessary spiritual wealth well ahead of time.

Naturally, the list was never absolute; select, high-value treasures were routinely added at the final hour to incite chaos.

On the dawn of the seventh day.

Xu Changshou arrived early at the towering bronze gates of the auction house.

The gates had already been thrown wide open, swallowing a steady stream of cultivators.

Before long, Li Linhao and Yang Jieyuan materialized from the crowd.

Xu Changshou cupped his fists in a warm greeting: "Fellow Daoist Li, Fellow Daoist Yang, a fair morning to you both."

"Indeed. Well met, Fellow Daoist Wang!" Li Linhao nodded with practiced courtesy.

Trailing behind him, Yang Jieyuan merely let out a cold snort, his face twisted in silent disdain.

"Where is Fellow Daoist Su?" Li Linhao inquired.

Xu Changshou shook his head: "Since we parted ways upon arrival, I have not laid eyes upon Fellow Daoist Su."

"Hmph! A shameless harlot whose bed is an open door. Why waste breath on her?" Yang Jieyuan spat viciously.

"..."

Xu Changshou furrowed his brow but remained silent.

Over the past few days, he had deduced with terrifying certainty that Su Miaomiao viewed Li Linhao and Yang Jieyuan strictly as walking corpses waiting to be butchered.

As for himself, he was nothing more than a disposable chess piece, drawn in solely to maintain a balance of power.

That night, though she deployed her Charm Techniques to ensnare his Dao heart, she had never leaked genuine killing intent toward him.

Her true target was unquestionably Li Linhao.

Naturally, the instant she slaughtered Li Linhao, Xu Changshou's own life would hang by a thread.

Yet Xu Changshou felt no fear. He possessed enough hidden trump cards to challenge either Li Linhao or Su Miaomiao. Even if he could not achieve victory, tearing through the void to escape was absolutely within his grasp.

"Junior Brother Yang, guard your tongue," Li Linhao rebuked with a heavy frown.

Yang Jieyuan sneered, completely unrepentant: "I speak only the Dao's truth! Senior Brother Lin, you had best beware. He and that wretched slut have long been rolling in the same filth."

"Hehehe!"

A sudden, silver bell-like laughter cut through the air. The sound drifted closer until the speaker materialized before them.

It was Su Miaomiao. She lifted her eyes, her gaze dripping with intoxicating charm: "Fellow Daoist Yang, spewing venom behind a person's back is hardly the conduct of a righteous cultivator."

"You—! Hmph!"

Yang Jieyuan choked on his words, his face draining of color as he unleashed another cold snort.

"Enough of this. The auction is about to commence. Let us enter,"

Li Linhao interrupted with a placating smile, smoothing over the killing intent.

"Let us proceed. We can speak further inside!" Xu Changshou added amiably.

The fractured party then stepped across the threshold into the grand auction house.

An auction in the Cultivation world vastly differed from Xu Changshou's mortal preconceptions. The entrance opened into an impossibly vast plaza blanketed with woven meditation cushions.

Sweeping his Divine Sense across the floor, Xu Changshou estimated at least two thousand cushions.

This indicated the titanic arena could easily accommodate thousands of cultivators simultaneously.

Dominating the vanguard of the plaza was a monolithic stone dais, rising a full meter high and spanning ten meters across.

A magnificent central hall loomed behind the dais, its towering flanks lined with suspended, VIP viewing chambers.

Entry to the plaza required no toll; the prime seating nearest the dais was seized strictly on a first-come, first-served basis.

Already, nearly two hundred cultivators had anchored themselves to the vanguard cushions.

Xu Changshou's party was far from late. Moving as a unit, they claimed a row of cushions securely positioned near the front.

Before long, the spiritual pressure in the room spiked as an avalanche of cultivators poured in. Silhouettes began to shift behind the veiled screens of the suspended chambers.

It was glaringly obvious that the suspended chambers were reserved for entities of terrifying status—most likely Foundation Establishment Grand Cultivators.

Half a shichen later, the titanic arena was packed to the bursting point.

"Fellow Daoists, welcome to the Wanxian Tower grand auction. This humble woman, He Shuixiu, offers her utmost respects."

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