Chapter 92: Ning Fengzhi
Seeing Zu Zong's reluctance, Xiao Wu immediately became unhappy.
She used a trick she had learned from Dugu Yan for dealing with boyfriends—acting spoiled.
"Let's go! Come on, I want to go inside and take a look," Xiao Wu said, pulling Zu Zong's arm into her embrace.
"Uh…" Zu Zong was surprised. When had this girl learned such a move? Still, she was soft enough to make him agree. "Alright, let's go in and have a look."
Holding Xiao Wu's hand, Zu Zong walked toward the auction house.
Up close, he could truly feel the scale of the dome-shaped building.
By his estimation, the half-sphere resting on the ground was at least five hundred meters in diameter, with its highest point over eighty meters tall. While slightly smaller than the large Soul Fighting Arenas he had seen before, this was only an auction house—there was no need for spectator seating.
And this was Tian Dou City, the capital of the Tian Dou Empire, where every inch of land was priceless. The sheer size and location of this building showed just how important the auction house was, and hinted at its unfathomable background.
Zu Zong muttered under his breath, "Truly a gold pit for the rich."
"What are you mumbling about? Come on!" Xiao Wu tugged at his arm and quickened her pace.
The main entrance was also semi-circular and matched the milky-white exterior of the building. Four tall young women stood at the door.
It was clear they had been strictly selected—not only were they all around one meter seventy-five, but their figures were also perfectly proportioned. They weren't stunning beauties, but their attractive appearances and poised bearing made them appealing. They looked no older than twenty.
They wore floor-length gowns that covered even their arms, revealing not a hint of excess skin. Yet the tight fit of the gowns traced their elegant curves. Silver embroidery patterned the white fabric, the shapes forming faint characters that neither Zu Zong nor Xiao Wu could recognize.
The four women stood identically, hands resting before them, smiling in a professional yet pleasant manner.
As the pair approached, one of the women stepped forward, bowed slightly, and asked, "Do you need assistance?"
"We want—" Xiao Wu began, but Zu Zong stopped her.
From his knowledge of the original story, he knew entry required a "bidding qualification certificate." Holders were either high-ranking nobles, disciples of major sects, or people who displayed considerable wealth—hence why he had called it a rich man's pit.
Though wealthy, Zu Zong wasn't the type to flaunt it.
There was another way to get in—by auctioning an item.
With that in mind, Zu Zong took out the revolver he had stolen the day before. "We want to auction something."
"What is this?" the young woman asked. She didn't dismiss it just because it looked unusual; in her experience, the stranger the item, the more valuable it could be.
Xiao Wu recognized it right away—she owned one herself, though in a different style. She smirked and said, "Don't you have appraisers? It's not up to you to judge—just have them see if it's valuable."
After the appraiser examined it, the revolver's simple use, respectable power, and the inclusion of a box of bullets led the auction house to give it a starting price of two thousand gold coins.
Led by the young woman, Xiao Wu and Zu Zong—her hand still in his—finally entered the heart of the Tian Dou Auction House.
The auction center was on the second floor, accessible from the lobby by eight separate staircases. Before they entered, the hostess gave them each a mask and explained that all future auction attendees were required to wear one for safety. Next time, no one would personally escort them.
She accompanied them to the auction center entrance before leaving.
Inside, other attendants took over.
Like the previous hostess, they wore white skirts, but the feeling they gave off was completely different.
These attendants were all women of similar height to the greeters outside, but their figures were far more voluptuous.
The white skirts on these attendants were cut low in the front and sleeveless.
The short hem ended just seven inches below the waist, revealing smooth, pale thighs. Paired with white high heels, the effect was particularly alluring. The deep cleavage above and the round curve of their hips below left little to the imagination.
Zu Zong glanced briefly, then lost interest.
He did enjoy looking at beautiful women, but he preferred those with genuine spirit. The women before him, though enticing, had eyes that told him they had already lost themselves.
Turning to Xiao Wu, he said softly, "Let's go inside."
Xiao Wu was clearly satisfied with his reaction. She glanced down at her own modest curves, nodding to herself in approval. She knew Zu Zong would sometimes sneak a look there—especially when she leaned on his back.
Though he would protest with words, his expression always gave him away.
Gradually, Xiao Wu too began to notice something unusual about the attendants.
"Xiao Zong," she whispered, "don't you think these maids seem strange?"
Zu Zong nodded. "They're nothing more than slaves who have lost their sense of self."
A gentle voice spoke from nearby. "Sharp eyes, young man."
Zu Zong and Xiao Wu turned their heads.
A middle-aged man in white robes was smiling at them in greeting.
He had a refined, scholarly air—handsome features, a straight nose, and a square mouth. His spotless white robe was perfectly clean. He looked about forty, his gaze gentle, with the appearance of an ordinary man.
Long, smooth black hair fell loosely down his back. Everything about him seemed casual and unpretentious.
Xiao Wu couldn't help asking, "People who've lost themselves… what does that mean? Were they mentally ill before being sold here?"
The man smiled faintly. "This world has much helplessness. This is the Tian Dou Auction House. There is nothing here they won't sell—not even slaves.
"These girls' expressions are blank because they long ago lost their own hearts and can no longer decide their fate. All they can do is obey.
"They may be beautiful on the outside, but they have no soul of their own. The only words I can give them are: 'how pitiful.'"
His words left Xiao Wu silent.
Now she finally understood why Zu Zong had been reluctant to enter.
After living with him for over six years, she knew that while he often appeared sly and calculating, he was kind at heart and disliked the darker side of the world.
Zu Zong didn't interrupt, but studied the middle-aged man carefully.
There was something familiar about him, though he couldn't place it.
Wait—the way he smiled, the curve of his mouth, and the fact he wasn't wearing a mask… could it be Ning Fengzhi, father of the Ning young lady?
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