Having No Money Was a Fatal Flaw

Tang San turned over, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

His father was dead, and his Spirit Bone had been put up for public auction, yet as his son, he could only watch helplessly.

A Spirit Bone over fifty thousand years old—he would likely still come back empty-handed even if he went to beg the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect for help.

A twenty-thousand-year Spirit Bone was already a Blood River treasure. One over fifty thousand years old was beyond any measure of money.

The Upper Three Sects were united by common cause?

Before something like this, that was bullshit.

Three months.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

Tai Tan's deep, heavy voice came through the door. "Young Master, are you still awake?"

"Come in." Tang San sat up, a trace of exhaustion in his voice.

Tai Tan pushed the door open and entered. After a moment of silence, he said, "This old servant has something to say to you, Young Master."

"Go ahead."

"The auction..." Tai Tan raised his eyes to Tang San. There was a weariness in them that the youth had never seen in the eyes of the Strength Clan's patriarch. "Forgive this old servant for speaking bluntly, but even if the Clear Sky Sect pooled all its resources, it still could not raise enough for those two Spirit Bones. Back then, the twenty-thousand-year skull bone auctioned by your old rival, Zhou Qiubai, sold for ten million Gold Soul Coins. These two are both over fifty thousand years old. Their price will only be higher."

Tang San said nothing. Tai Tan saw it, but he still had to say what needed to be said. "So this old servant wishes to remind you, Young Master. If we cannot secure them at the auction, then