Once they were seated, the auction began at just the right moment.
The old man stood behind a long rosewood table and cleared his throat. His voice was not loud, yet it reached every person present with perfect clarity.
"Esteemed guests, you have come from afar, so this old man will not waste words. Today's auction has seven treasures, each with an extraordinary origin. The old rules apply—the highest bidder wins."
A low murmur rose from below the stage. Some people squeezed forward, while others straightened their cross-legged postures.
The old man clapped his hands.
A maid carried a tray onto the stage. It was covered with red silk, beneath which the vague outline of a long object could be seen.
"The first item." The old man lifted the red silk.
A sword.
The blade was roughly three feet long, utterly black, without the faintest gleam.
Yet a dim blue light shimmered along its edge, as though it had been quenched in deadly poison—or as though some special material was displaying its strange hues beneath the light.
"This sword is named Dark Tide. It was forged from Deep Sea Mystic Iron.
"I trust everyone knows the origins of Deep Sea Mystic Iron. It comes from mineral veins more than thirty thousand zhang beneath the sea, and less than ten jin can be mined each year.
"This sword alone required three hundred thousand jin of Deep Sea Mystic Iron, and took ten thousand years to forge."
The old man picked up the sword and gave it a light swing.
The blade sliced through the air with a soft hum, low and lingering, like the mournful wail of an undersea current.
"It cuts iron like mud and severs hair with a breath."
"Its rank is supreme grade."
As he spoke, the old