In West Number Seven, Feng Xiaofeng said nothing. Whether to bid was something his martial uncle had to consider; the bidding now had nothing to do with him.
Feng Xiaofeng cautiously studied his martial uncle, Yang Hengchang. His brows were tightly knitted, and he was clearly still weighing the matter.
"My lord, this bid will be difficult," someone beside Yang Hengchang said worriedly.
"I know. I never expected the Rare Treasures Pavilion to pull this trick. They certainly are greedy." Yang Hengchang spoke coldly, a trace of murderous intent showing in his eyes. "One day, we'll make them spit it all back out."
"Indeed."
"But we still have to bid now. What do you think would be suitable to exchange?" Yang Hengchang asked. "We want the Phoenix Blood very much, but we must only bid on the condition that we can still secure the Divine Beast Traces clue."
"Precious as the Phoenix Blood is, it probably isn't worth even a hundredth of the final item," the man said. "Your subordinate suggests offering one slot for a year of contemplation at the Sword Enlightenment Altar."
"What?" Feng Xiaofeng exclaimed. "How could we do that?"
"Hmm?" Yang Hengchang gave Feng Xiaofeng a cold glance, and Feng Xiaofeng immediately fell silent.
Even as one of the so-called Sword Pavilion Three Swords, he could not enter the Sword Enlightenment Altar at will. He was allowed inside for only ten days each year. All the time he had spent there since childhood fell far short of a year.
Even Sword God Yi, among the three of them, was permitted only one month a year. Yet they were now offering a full year of contemplation at the Sword Enlightenment Altar-and to an outsider. To Feng Xiaofeng, this was simply inconceivable.
Once the Sword Pavilion traded this