The Final Price: 119,000 Gold Coins, Steward Xiao's Thoughts

"Does anyone have a higher bid?"

Her voice remained soft and seductive, but there was now a hint of urging in her tone. The little wooden mallet rose slightly in her hand, ready to strike for the third time—

"Twenty-seven thousand gold coins!"

A voice came from a private room on the second floor, unhurried and carrying the certainty of inevitable victory.

Everyone's gaze turned in unison toward the source of the voice.

Through the dim light, no one could see who was inside the private room. Yet its location—the eastern side of the second floor, the room with the best view and the most central position—explained everything.

There were only a few people in all of Wutan City who could sit in that room.

The Oba Lineage, Oba Pa.

Ya Fei's eyes curved slightly, and the smile at her lips deepened. She had long known that the true leads would not appear in the first round.

Those seated in the first-floor hall were merely appetizers; the private rooms on the second floor were the true battlefield.

"Twenty-nine thousand gold coins!"

Another voice rang out from a private room on the western side of the second floor, directly raising the price by another two thousand. The voice sounded younger than Oba Pa's.

Its owner was none other than the head of the Galie Clan—Galie Bi.

The smile on Ya Fei's face was practically overflowing.

She had not even had the chance to strike the bronze bell once for the "twenty-seven thousand gold coins" bid before the price had already been pushed higher.

This was even more exciting than she had expected.

"Galie Bi, hasn't your son already become a Dou Practitioner? Why are you still interested in this Foundation-Building Elixir?"

Oba Pa's voice came from the eastern private room, carrying a trace of mockery, displeasure, and irritation that practically said, "Aren't you ruining my plans?"

A cold snort came from Galie Bi's western private room.

"Oba Pa, can't I buy it for my future grandson?"

His tone was utterly righteous, as if Galie Bi's son could give him a chubby grandson that very day.

When he said that, he probably had no idea that his precious son had already had his cultivation crippled in the arena and was lying unconscious in some corner, screaming even in his dreams.

"Heh. Thirty-one thousand gold coins."

Oba Pa could not be bothered to argue with him and spoke directly with gold.

Thirty-one thousand gold coins.

The moment that number came out, the bidders in the first-floor hall who had still harbored a sliver of hope finally gave up completely.

They lowered their number plaques and sank back into their seats, their faces filled with complicated expressions—envy, unwillingness, and helpless resignation.

It was not that they could not come up with thirty thousand gold coins.

Many of the small family heads present could scrape together forty or fifty thousand gold coins if they pooled everything they had.

But spending thirty thousand gold coins on a bottle of elixir with unknown effects was simply too risky.

They were not like the three great families, wealthy and powerful. Thirty thousand gold coins might be their entire income for one or even two years.

If they invested it and it went down the drain, their whole family would have to tighten their belts.

Besides, there were still three bottles left.

If they could not get the first bottle, there would be a second, third, and fourth.

There was no need to fight the three great families to the death over the first bottle.

With that mindset, most people chose to wait and see.

The only ones in the venue who still dared to challenge Oba Pa were Galie Bi and the Xiao Clan.

Yet Xiao Zhan did not speak.

He sat upright in the Xiao Clan's private room, his expression calm and showing no intention of joining the bidding.

Yan'er's strength had recovered. What else did he have to worry about?

In the past, he had desperately earned money and stockpiled resources to pave the way for Yan'er, fearing that Xiao Yan would have no support after becoming crippled.

Now, not only had Yan'er recovered, but he had also taken a Dou Zong powerhouse as his master and possessed resources Xiao Zhan had never even dared to imagine.

As a father, he could finally breathe easy.

As for the Foundation-Building Elixir—what use was there in buying something Yan'er did not need? Was he supposed to use it to bathe Xiao Yan?

Galie Bi did not continue raising the price either.

His target today was not this Foundation-Building Elixir. The final item was what he was determined to obtain.

Spending too much gold on the Foundation-Building Elixir now would only leave him short on funds for the final battle.

"Thirty-one thousand gold coins, going once."

"Thirty-one thousand gold coins, going twice."

"Thirty-one thousand gold coins, going three times—sold!"

The little wooden mallet struck the bronze bell with a crisp, pleasant clang.

The first bottle of Foundation-Building Elixir was claimed by Oba Pa for thirty-one thousand gold coins.

The competition for the next three bottles was not as fierce as for the first, but there were still plenty of noteworthy moments.

The second bottle of Foundation-Building Elixir was sold for thirty thousand gold coins to the head of a mid-sized family in Wutan City.

That family's son had happened to be stuck at the Eighth-Stage Dou Zhi Qi bottleneck for more than half a year, and he wanted to use this elixir to help his son break through.

Knowing that his strength and wealth could not compare to those of the three great families, and that he could not contend for the final cultivation method, he simply put all his chips on this bottle of elixir.

The third bottle of Foundation-Building Elixir sold for thirty-one thousand gold coins.

The buyer was another mid-sized family, in much the same situation as the previous one—there was a child in the family stuck at a crucial stage of Dou Zhi Qi and urgently in need of a breakthrough.

Their calculations were shrewd: rather than smashing their heads against the three great families over the final cultivation method, it was better to secure this bottle of elixir early and at least gain something.

The fourth bottle, the last one, sold for twenty-seven thousand gold coins.

The buyer surprised everyone.

The private room occupied by the Xiao Clan.

The one who bid was not Xiao Zhan, but the First Elder seated beside him—no, he should now be called Steward Xiao.

When he raised his plaque, his hand trembled slightly, and the expression on his face was as complicated as if a bottle of mixed flavors had been overturned.

Twenty-seven thousand gold coins—this was the savings of most of his life.

He had worked for the Xiao Clan for decades, climbing from an ordinary clansman to the position of elder. After living frugally and calculating every expense, he had saved just over fifty thousand gold coins in total.

Twenty-seven thousand was gone in an instant. His heart was bleeding.

But he had no other choice.

His grandson, Xiao Ning, was currently only at the Eighth-Stage Dou Zhi Qi. He had also been expelled from the Xiao Clan's main household by Xiao Yan and assigned to manage trivial affairs in the Xiao Clan's outlying businesses.

He was old. This was all his life would amount to.

But Xiao Ning was still young. He could not let Xiao Ning sink like this.

The Foundation-Building Elixir was Xiao Ning's last hope.

As long as Xiao Ning could break through from the Eighth-Stage Dou Zhi Qi to the ninth stage, as long as he could become a Dou Practitioner before turning twenty, Steward Xiao was confident—confident that he could beg Xiao Zhan and Xiao Yan to transfer his grandson back from the outskirts.

As for whether Xiao Yan would agree, he did not dare think about it. But he had to try.

Even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance, he had to try.

Xiao Zhan glanced at him but said nothing.

He could more or less guess the First Elder's—no, Steward Xiao's—thoughts.

He neither stopped him nor helped him. He merely watched quietly, like an outsider.

Xiao Yan saw it as well when the First Elder raised his plaque.

His gaze paused in that direction for a moment before moving away.

He said nothing, and his expression did not change in the slightest.

He knew who the First Elder was buying that bottle of elixir for without needing to be told.

Xiao Ning had been expelled from the core household because of his three years of mockery and humiliation toward Xiao Yan. It was cause and effect, retribution, and a price that had to be paid.

But that did not mean Xiao Ning had to remain fallen for the rest of his life.

If Xiao Ning could seize this opportunity, become a Dou Practitioner, and prove his worth, Xiao Yan would not mind letting him return.

The Xiao Clan needed every capable clansman. This was not something personal grudges could dictate.

All four bottles of Foundation-Building Elixir had been sold.

The total sale price—119,000 gold coins.

The corners of Xiao Yan's lips rose slightly into a satisfied smile.

One hundred nineteen thousand.

Subtracting the two thousand gold coin cost, the net profit was one hundred seventeen thousand.

It had multiplied nearly sixtyfold.

And this was only the first batch.

Once the effects of these four bottles of elixir spread, once the people of Wutan City saw the users' improvement with their own eyes, the second batch would sell for even higher prices.

With medicinal pills, reputation was everything.

No one believed in one bottle. Two bottles made people half-believe. Three, four, five bottles—once everyone saw the effects with their own eyes, trust would be established.

By then, Ya Fei would not need to promote them for him. People would naturally scramble to buy them.

This was not merely business. It was also a psychological battle.

Xiao Yan saw that clearly, so he was not anxious at all.

"Next is the grand finale of this auction!"

Ya Fei's voice suddenly rose several notes, and the seductiveness in her tone was replaced by a deliberately cultivated sense of mystery.

With a wave of her jade-like hand, the lights on the stage suddenly dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight shining at its center.

The entire venue fell silent.

Everyone's eyes followed that beam of light as they watched Ya Fei bend slightly and carefully remove a silver tray from the center of the stage.

A dark red velvet cloth covered the silver tray, and at its center lay an ancient-looking scroll.

The scroll was entirely azure, its surface glowing faintly blue-green. Against the silver tray, it appeared particularly mysterious.

That azure glow was not still. It flowed and breathed, as though some living thing had been sealed inside the scroll and was struggling to break free.

Ya Fei held the scroll in both hands and raised it beneath the light, letting the azure glow illuminate her face.

"A High Mystic Tier cultivation method—the Wind Scroll Art."

Those five words were like five stones thrown into a calm lake. What they stirred was not ripples, but towering waves.

The entire venue exploded.

"High Mystic Tier? It's really High Mystic Tier?"

"How many years has it been since a High Mystic Tier cultivation method appeared in Wutan City?"

"No wonder the heads of the three great families all came. So this was what they were after!"

The clamor in the auction hall surged wave after wave, nearly enough to blow the roof off.

Those who had been dejected over failing to obtain the Foundation-Building Elixir now sprang from their seats as though pumped full of adrenaline, their eyes wide as bells as they stared fixedly at the azure scroll in Ya Fei's hands.

Medicinal pills might be precious, but they could only be used temporarily.

A bottle of elixir was gone once used, and a pill was digested once swallowed. They could provide short-term assistance, but not lasting support.

Cultivation methods were different.

A high-tier cultivation method could be used for a lifetime.

It determined how far one could go, how high one could climb, and what position one could hold in this world where the strong devoured the weak.

Not only that, it could be passed down to future generations, allowing one's descendants to stand on one's shoulders and see farther than one ever could.

In some ways, high-tier cultivation methods drove people even crazier than medicinal pills.

"The starting price—two hundred thousand gold coins."

The instant Ya Fei's voice fell, bids surged forth like floodwaters bursting through a dam.

"Two hundred ten thousand!"

"Two hundred twenty thousand!"

"Two hundred fifty thousand!"

"Three hundred thousand!"

The price shot upward at a staggering pace. Every bid was a contest of real gold and silver, and behind every number stood the savings of a family gathered over years or even decades.

The heads of those small families could no longer care about acting within their means—something like a High Mystic Tier cultivation method, once missed, would be gone for a lifetime.

But reality was cruel.

When the price broke through three hundred eighty thousand, ninety-eight percent of the bidders silently withdrew their number plaques.

It was not that they did not want to compete. They simply could not.

Three hundred eighty thousand gold coins had already exceeded what most small families could bear. Even if they gritted their teeth and scraped it together to buy the cultivation method, their families' normal operations would grind to a halt.

Betting the survival of their entire family on a cultivation method they might not even be able to master—no matter how they calculated it, it was not worth it.

At last, only the three great families remained in the competition.

"Four hundred thousand."

Oba Pa's voice came from the second-floor private room, calm and unhurried, carrying the steadiness of someone determined to win.

"Four hundred fifty thousand."

Galie Bi's voice followed immediately after, louder and more flamboyant, as if declaring to the entire venue: the Galie Clan was determined to have this cultivation method.

Oba Pa fell silent.

It was not that he could not produce more gold, but that he was weighing whether it was worth continuing.

Four hundred fifty thousand gold coins was already close to the Oba Clan's annual income. If he went any higher, even if he won the auction, they would have to tighten their belts.

Galie Bi's smile nearly reached his ears. His gaze passed through the private room's glass window and landed on the azure scroll in Ya Fei's hands, the greed in his eyes completely undisguised.

He had already begun fantasizing—fantasizing about the Galie Clan's strength soaring after obtaining a High Mystic Tier cultivation method, surpassing the Xiao Clan and the Oba Clan to become Wutan City's foremost family.

"Five hundred fifty thousand."

An unhurried voice sounded from the Xiao Clan's private room, like a basin of cold water poured over Galie Bi's head.

Xiao Zhan.

Galie Bi's smile froze on his face.

Because Xiao Zhan had not bid for the Foundation-Building Elixir as he had in the original story, he had saved those forty thousand gold coins.

The amount of gold he now held far exceeded his original expectations.

Galie Bi's temples throbbed twice. He gritted his teeth and forced out a number through the gaps between them.

"Six hundred thousand."

Six hundred thousand—this was the Galie Clan's savings for several years, including part of the Jialie Lineage's working capital.

Throwing this sum into the bid would shrink the Galie Clan's holdings by at least twenty or thirty percent. Next year, the year after, and perhaps even the year after that, the Galie Clan would have to tighten its belt.

But he had no other choice.

Among the three great clans, both the Xiao Clan and the Oba Clan possessed Intermediate Mystic Tier battle qi cultivation methods. Only the Jialie Lineage had merely a Low Mystic Tier method to uphold its reputation.

The gap in cultivation methods was a gap in strength, a gap in influence, and a gap in the future.

If he failed to secure the Wind Scroll Art this time and let Xiao Zhan or Oba Pa obtain it, the Galie Clan's position in Wutan City would become even more awkward and marginal. It was not impossible that they would eventually be pushed out of the ranks of the three great clans.

He had to bid.

Even if it bankrupted the clan, he had to win it.