A curt voice rang out from the eastern tier.
"Five hundred."
From the western shadows, another followed almost immediately.
"Seven hundred."
The fox watched without blinking.
She was no longer focused on the price itself.
That was already settled.
What mattered now was movement.
Patterns.
Reactions.
And just as she expected—
the White Bone Tiger alcove shifted.
Not openly.
Not visibly.
But her divine sense caught it—subtle pressure changes behind the curtains.
Someone leaned forward.
Watching more closely now.
The fox's eyes gleamed faintly.
There you are.
The bidding continued.
Eight hundred.
Nine hundred.
Eleven hundred.
Then—
a soft voice drifted from the White Bone Tiger suite.
Female.
Smooth.
Dangerously calm.
"Twelve hundred."
The fox's pupils narrowed slightly.
That voice.
Even distorted through layered privacy formations, it carried something unmistakable.
A sharpness.
A quiet confidence.
Languid cruelty wrapped in silk.
Shen Tu froze beside her.
His face went pale beneath his fur.
"My Lady…"
His whisper trembled.
"…that's her."
The fox didn't move.
But her tail went still.
Completely.
"Meihu?"
Shen Tu nodded quickly.
"The Bewitching Heart Fox."
His throat bobbed.
His paws had gone damp.
Even within a private alcove protected by soundproofing arrays, even with distance between them, the moment that voice crossed the hall, something in him tightened.
Not only fear.
Something worse.
A pull.
A reflex buried deep in instinct.
"My Lady…"
His voice came out strained.
"…I'd know that voice anywhere."
The fox finally glanced at him, one brow lifting slightly.
Shen Tu swallowed.
"She's dangerous."
His voice dropped lower, almost reluctant in its honesty.
"Not because she's strong."
"Though she is."
"But that's not what makes beasts fear her."
He glanced toward the White Bone Tiger alcove again, wary, as if even looking too long was risky.
"It's her voice."
"A look."
"A smile."
He let out a weak, humorless laugh.
"…Beautiful enough to make you forget your own name."
The fox snorted softly.
Shen Tu flinched.
"No, I'm serious, My Lady."
"I saw her once."
"Just once."
His gaze drifted distant.
"She passed through Five Veins Hollow years ago."
"Didn't even stop."
"But every beast in the streets watched her like fools."
"A few followed her—I almost did too."
He grimaced.
"But that turned out to be luck."
"Because those that went never came back."
The fox's turquoise eyes narrowed slightly.
Not in doubt.
But in recognition.
That aligned too well.
A fox like that.
Right hand of the White Bone Tiger King.
Beauty as weapon.
Charm as leash.
Dangerous.
Efficient.
Predictable in its own way.
Shen Tu exhaled shakily.
"I can still remember it…"
"The way she smiled."
"Or maybe it was someone beside me… I don't remember anymore."
He shook his head.
"I nearly stepped forward."
"I didn't even know why."
The fox turned her attention back to the curtained suite.
But now she listened more carefully.
Past tone.
Past softness.
Into what lay beneath.
And there it was.
A thread.
Not a technique she could fully read from here—
but something subtle.
A rhythm in speech.
A pressure in tone.
Something that brushed instinct, emotion, hesitation.
A controlled influence.
Her lips curved faintly.
Interesting.
Beside her, Little White's mental voice drifted in.
*You've found your fish.*
The fox's smile sharpened.
*Not quite.*
A pause.
*But I found my spirit stones.*
Below, the auctioneer continued smoothly.
"Twelve hundred from Suite Nine."
"Do I hear thirteen?"
Silence stretched.
No one wanted to challenge that suite lightly.
Then—
without even glancing down at the jade slate—
the fox placed one paw on it.
A pulse of light.
Calm.
Effortless.
"Fifteen hundred."
The hall stilled.
Not loudly.
But in that subtle way a room changes when something unexpected enters the equation.
The auctioneer's brows lifted slightly.
Her smile returned quickly.
"Fifteen hundred from Middle Tier Seven."
The White Bone Tiger alcove went quiet.
Too quiet.
The fox leaned back into her seat, composed, relaxed, as though the bid meant nothing at all.
But behind her half-lidded turquoise eyes, her thoughts moved quickly.
Cold.
Precise.
Calculated.
Forget Meihu for now.
That fox wasn't going anywhere.
But this—
her gaze drifted across the hall—
the alcoves, the tension, the silence before reactions—
this was different.
This was opportunity.
A gold mine.
No.
Better.
A spirit stone mine.
And everyone in this room was already proving how easily they could be pushed.
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Because suddenly, everything had become simple.
Meihu's presence wasn't the objective.
It was leverage.
Powerful beasts hated losing.
Especially in public.
Especially over things that looked valuable.
And the items she had released—
techniques, soul methods, spirit tools—
were exactly the kind of bait that made greed override caution.
Her smile deepened slightly.
All she had to do…
was make them want to win.
Beside her, Little White's golden eyes drifted toward her.
Even without the link, he could feel it.
That shift.
That quiet alignment of thought into strategy.
*Plotting.*
The fox's ears twitched.
*Investing.*
A faint snort.
*That word doesn't mean what you think it means.*
She ignored him.
Below, the auctioneer's voice continued.
"Fifteen hundred from Middle Tier Seven."
"Do I hear sixteen?"
Silence.
The White Bone Tiger alcove remained still.
The fox could feel Meihu there—watching.
Measuring.
Thinking.
Good.
Let her.
The fox lowered one paw onto the jade slate again, not bidding—just resting it there, feeling the cool surface.
Grounding herself in the moment.
Already planning ahead.
Lot Seven would escalate tension.
Lot Eight would deepen interest.
Lot Nine and Ten would push desperation higher.
By the time her final items appeared—
the room would no longer be calm enough to think clearly.
Value fed value.
Greed fed greed.
And all she needed to do…
was nudge it.
Just slightly.
Shen Tu, still pale from Meihu's voice, finally noticed the shift in her expression.
He swallowed.
"My Lady…"
His voice was cautious now.
"…why do you look happier now than when you found your target?"
The fox didn't look at him.