The Leaking Source Stone

Everyone's gazes followed Ye Xingchen's finger.

In the shadows of the corner lay a black stone as large as a millstone.

Its surface was as rough as old tree bark, covered in crisscrossing cracks. It looked just like a pile of cow dung left by the roadside under the blazing sun for three years—black and coarse.

Worst of all, at the lower left of the stone was a naturally formed hole the size of a fist, steadily hissing out thin wisps of spiritual energy.

In the stone-gambling world, this kind of stone had a resounding name—"Leaking Wealth Stone."

As the saying went, "When qi could not gather, the spirit could not coalesce." With all the spiritual energy leaking away, what good could possibly remain inside? It was like a bucket with a leaking bottom; it would be a miracle if it could hold water.

Forget hidden jade—if this thing could yield even a pebble when cut open, Heaven itself must have gone blind.

"Pfft—"

Zhang Sanqian, whose severed limb had just regrown and whose face was still pale, could not hold back a laugh at the sight.

"Hahaha! Ye, you stumbled into dog shit luck once, and now you really think you're a Source Arts grandmaster? You think every stone in this place is yours to call?"

Zhang Sanqian pointed at the black stone, his voice shrill and grating. "This kind of Bottom-Leaking Skylight trash is something even apprentices know not to touch! Yet you told Clan Head Zuo to buy it? Are you saying the Left Clan hasn't died fast enough?"

"Master Zhang, watch your words."

Zuo Tianhe was truly angered this time.

"I invited you here to appraise stones, not to listen to your incessant chatter!"

"Not only did you fail to choose any valuable Source Stones for the Left Clan, now you dare curse the Left Clan like this. Do you really think I would not dare touch you?"

"I..."

Zhang Sanqian was momentarily speechless. He had failed to see through these raw stones.

"Shut up!"

Zuo Tianhe roared.

Zhang Sanqian shut his mouth miserably. Though he prided himself on possessing some stone-appraising ability and was considered a master in the stone-gambling circle, he did not dare offend a great Lineage with a Nascent Soul overseeing it.

Still, the crowd was abuzz over the stone Ye Xingchen had chosen, and every remark was mocking.

"This Ye Xingchen may have some strange tricks, but his eye for stones is truly dreadful."

"Even beginners know that 'when qi cannot gather, all is dead.' This stone is hissing out energy right there—clearly a solid dead stone."

"I think he's gotten carried away. He stumbled into dog shit luck once; does he think it'll happen a second time?"

"If he can cut a treasure out of it, I'll eat that pile of dog shit!"

Master Gu He furrowed his brows as he looked at Ye Xingchen, his tone carrying the rebuke of an elder. "Young man, luck cannot be relied upon. This stone bears the Qi-Scattering Pattern, one of the most ominous signs. Cut it, and it will surely collapse. Do not mislead Clan Head Zuo."

Sky-Eye Daoist could not even be bothered to raise his eyelids. He snorted coldly. "Ignorant brat, seeking attention with sensationalism."

Facing the crowd's ridicule and the verdicts of the two masters, Ye Xingchen's expression did not change in the slightest.

"Clan Head Zuo."

"There is something inside that you want."

"Buy it or not, the choice is yours."

"But once this village is passed, there will be no such shop."

Ye Xingchen's tone was calm. He made no oath and no vow, yet it carried an odd certainty.

Zuo Tianhe's body trembled.

He looked at that incomparably ugly black stone, then at its price tag.

Starting price: three million Spirit Stones.

For a stone with such atrocious appearance, this was simply highway robbery.

If it had not been transported from the Primordial Ancient Mine, no one would have bothered picking it up even if it were tossed onto the street.

Three million...

Though the Left Clan possessed vast wealth, this amount of Spirit Stones was merely a drizzle, nothing worth mentioning.

But he could not just squander it so casually on a piece of junk stone.

"Father..."

Zuo Xiaoqing stood at his side, gently tugging on the sleeve already soaked through with his cold sweat.

She said nothing more. She merely stared at the black stone, her eyes holding a blind and stubborn insistence.

Zuo Tianhe turned to look at his daughter, then toward Shen Wanshan's mocking face opposite him, as well as the two lofty masters.

Despair gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.

There was nothing left anyway.

Since the proper path would not work, then he would take the crooked path!

This boy was a madman. That bloodstone from before had proven his wickedness.

Only a madman could carve out a bloody path through a dead end!

A terrifying crimson surged into Zuo Tianhe's eyes—the madness of a gambler whose eyes had turned red from losing.

"Hah..."

He exhaled a mouthful of turbid air.

"Bang!"

A storage ring smashed heavily onto the counter.

"Buy it!"

That single word seemed to have been torn forcibly from the depths of his throat.

Zuo Tianhe's eyes were bloodshot as he roared, "I bid the starting price—three million!!"

The entire venue fell silent in an instant.

Then, earth-shaking uproar erupted.

"Mad! Zuo Tianhe has truly gone mad!"

"Three million for a leaking stone? Has he been driven out of his mind?"

The stone cutter approached with his blade in hand, wearing an expression as if he were constipated.

"Clan Head Zuo, this... how should this thing be cut? Split it straight down the middle?"

Zuo Tianhe was just about to speak.

A sinister voice suddenly rang out.

"Wait."

A playful smile hung at Shen Wanshan's lips as he lightly uttered a sentence.

"Since Brother Zuo thinks so highly of this piece of junk, I'll join in the fun as well."

He raised five fingers, his gaze like a blade as it viciously stabbed toward Zuo Tianhe.

"Five million."

His voice was not loud, yet every word struck the ground with weight.

Shen Wanshan looked at Zuo Tianhe's grim expression, his mood thoroughly delighted, his eyes filled with the teasing amusement of a cat playing with a mouse.

He did not believe this broken stone could yield any treasure. He merely wanted to disgust his old rival.

"The Myriad Treasures Pavilion's rule is that the highest bidder wins."

Shen Wanshan smiled carelessly. "If Brother Zuo has taken a liking to this treasure, it is only proper for you to spend a few more Spirit Stones."

"Ten million!"

The veins at Zuo Tianhe's temples bulged. These words were ground out through clenched teeth.

"Eleven million."

Shen Wanshan followed the bid casually, as though he were tossing out roadside pebbles rather than Spirit Stones.

"Fifteen million!"

"Sixteen million."

Neither more nor less, Shen Wanshan only exceeded Zuo Tianhe by one million each time.

The numbers soared wildly.

The entire stone-gambling hall grew feverish.

The watching cultivators' gazes darted back and forth between the two men as though they were watching two madmen who had lost all reason.

"Twenty million!"

By the time Zuo Tianhe shouted that number, his voice had cracked.

"Twenty-one million."

Shen Wanshan lifted his teacup, skimmed away the floating foam, and took a light sip.

Zuo Tianhe swayed, his chest heaving violently as fury nearly burned away the last of his reason. Just as he was about to speak, his shoulder sank.

A hand pressed down on it.

Long-fingered, powerful, and steady.

Ye Xingchen stood at the boundary between light and shadow, a faint curve at the corner of his lips. His gaze pierced over the shifting heads of the crowd and shot straight toward the second floor.

"Clan Head Zuo."

The youth spoke, his voice cool and clear.

"Since Clan Head Shen enjoys collecting junk so much, why not fulfill his wish?"

The entire hall was stunned.

Shen Wanshan's hand holding the tea paused.

Naturally suspicious, his gaze scraped over Ye Xingchen's face like hooks before falling upon the black stone emitting white smoke.

What trick is this brat trying to play now?

The black stone's surface was rough, and no matter how one looked at it, it was junk.

Yet just now, this brat had cut Primordial King's Heartblood out of junk.

Is this a trap?

Was he luring me into spending a sky-high price on a junk stone so the Left Clan could laugh at me?

As Shen Wanshan's thoughts spun like lightning, Ye Xingchen leaned close to Zuo Tianhe's ear, one hand loosely covering his mouth.