If the big shot in front of him could just wave her hand—no, her jade hand—and buy up all his trash cans, that would be the best outcome imaginable.
After all, selling trash cans not only earned him Credits, but also gave him exclusive rewards. Two birds with one stone—way too good to pass up.
But right now, it seems this deal has fallen through.
Sylvester glanced at Fu Xuan, who could barely stand upright, holding onto the table for support, his face full of regret.
He turned back to look at the room full of trash cans, utterly baffled.
No way, right? Sure, these iron trash cans don't look impressive, but they've never held actual garbage. They're full of Curios! So how could just one glance make her this nauseous?
Eh, can't afford to offend Fu Xuan. She may look now like a frail little girl, but normally her strength is sky-high.
Sylvester hurried to Fu Xuan's side, intending to help her into a chair.
That's when he realized—Fu Xuan's aura of authority was truly formidable.
Why?
Because Master Diviner's height really wasn't doing her any favors.
According to Xianzhou standards, Sylvester was over six chi tall, a full two heads higher than Fu Xuan's meager 145 cm. (T/N:A "chi" is approx. of a meter.)
If not for her commanding presence, it would've been hard for Sylvester to feel anything toward this little loli other than cute.
But right now, only the cuteness remained.
Not knowing where to put his hands to help, Sylvester steeled his heart, slipped both arms beneath Fu Xuan's back and legs, and lifted her in a perfect princess carry.
Fu Xuan flushed crimson, both embarrassed and flustered, like a kitten dunked into a washbasin, fur standing on end.
At that moment, she was so angry she completely forgot her purpose in negotiating with Sylvester. The aura of the Divination Commission's leader evaporated, leaving only the panic of a little girl.
She desperately wanted to break free, but thanks to her earlier injuries, she had no strength at all. Her tiny fists and feet kicked against him in vain, while the man didn't even react.
Fu Xuan's small face turned red as she cried out, "You—what exactly is your purpose?!"
"Please, Master Diviner, open a trash can."
"You! You scoundrel!"
She was furious, absolutely livid. Did he really take her for a fool?
Her disgrace was all because of his damned trash cans.
And yet he pretended not to notice, spouting irrelevant nonsense. Utterly outrageous.
"The Xianzhou Alliance shall not be insulted. This seat will never allow herself to be manipulated at will."
Fu Xuan knew well that in her current state, she was no match for Sylvester.
But as Master Diviner, her pride demanded she meet his gaze coldly, showing her defiance.
Sylvester looked at Fu Xuan's stubborn face and suddenly didn't want to put her down.
Anyone could see how weak she was right now.
In this moment, with her eyes shimmering like she might burst into tears, anger, shame, and panic mixing into something painfully adorable, she struck Sylvester right in the heart.
And when she'd squirmed like a little kitten in his arms just now… it had felt really nice.
But Sylvester still carefully placed Fu Xuan onto a chair.
He wasn't exactly a saint unmoved by beauty, but he could at least weigh the stakes clearly.
"Master Diviner, do you not wish to grasp the secret of the Aeon's gaze?" Sylvester, utterly unfazed by Fu Xuan's needle-sharp glare, sat casually across from her.
Fu Xuan's eyes flickered.
She eyed Sylvester warily, arms raised to guard herself, ready to prevent further liberties.
Even if this man was crude, compared to his earlier offense, the Aeon's gaze was far more important—the very reason she had come.
Her eyes bore into his face. "So, you admit it. That Emanator's appearance… is connected to you?"
"Yes," Sylvester answered offhandedly.
Hmm. In her guarded pose, Fu Xuan really did look like a little kitten swatted on the forehead under the guise of being fed, fierce yet adorable.
Fu Xuan's brows knitted tightly.
"…Or maybe not."
"What do you mean? Are you toying with this seat?" Fu Xuan's cheeks puffed in anger, making her look even more like a sulking kitten.
Appreciating Fu Xuan's beauty, Sylvester nevertheless felt conflicted about something else entirely—the so-called Aeon's gaze.
As the owner of the Curio Trash Cans, he knew exactly why it happened.
That Curio had sent out a signal receivable only by an Aeon. A signal no other being could possibly fake.
Such a unique signal usually meant only one thing: the birth of a new Aeon.
So why would an Aeon ignore it?
Whether or not they bestowed power depended entirely on THEIR mood.
After all, Aeons weren't fools. Once they knew it was just a Curio effect, why would they hand out power so casually?
No Aeon could be that irresponsible.
…Except Aha.
Yes, when Aha realized they'd been tricked, THEY thought it hilarious.
On the spot, THEY granted the Trailblazer the Path of Elation.
That's how Stelle became an Emanator of Elation.
Yes, the very first person to open a trash can… was Stelle. Stelle of the Astral Express.
And the reason she wasn't here now was simple. The Cloud Knights wouldn't dare offend an Emanator—let alone an ally of the Xianzhou. At this very moment, Stelle was being pampered with food and drink in another room.
But Sylvester couldn't possibly explain all this to Fu Xuan.
Revealing the truth would expose the system's secrets.
If that got out, the number of factions eager to exploit him would stretch from Herta Space Station to IX's big mouth.
Sylvester knew all too well—once his ability was revealed, countless powers would treat him like a machine, producing random Curios for free every day.
Until he gained enough strength, he absolutely could not expose it.
But how to answer Fu Xuan now?
"Master Diviner, why not open a few trash cans yourself? The secrets will reveal themselves."
Placing five trash cans neatly by the table, Sylvester gestured at them. Fu Xuan wavered, uncertain.
"These little trash cans… can truly draw the Aeon's gaze?"
Hearing this, Sylvester chuckled. "The gaze of an Aeon is hardly worth obsessing over. What lies inside is often far more precious. Fate is fickle—sometimes a blessing, sometimes disaster. Either way, it is destiny."
"I'll only say this—the Aeon's gaze is not always a good thing. The Xianzhou itself is proof enough of that, is it not?"
"For common folk, gaining an Aeon's gaze may mean soaring in power overnight. But if someone is thrust too far along a Path without enduring the trials of that Path… who can guarantee they won't lose themselves on the long road of life?"
Sylvester wasn't stupid. If anything, he was sharp.
The crowd outside might rejoice at the chance to become an Emanator.
But Fu Xuan, as an official of the Luofu, would never think that way.
The strength of an Emanator could upend the established order of the Xianzhou, threatening its stability.
If he could create Emanators, she'd view him as a danger.
But in truth, he had no such power. The contents of a trash can only revealed themselves the moment it was opened.
And only he could open exclusive trash cans.
Those, however, could only be earned by selling ordinary ones.
Still, he wasn't lying—the Aeon's gaze wasn't necessarily the best thing a trash can could hold.
"The gift of an Aeon… and you claim it isn't the best?" Fu Xuan folded her arms, skeptical.
For a moment, she wondered if this man was bluffing.
Even Aeons were only a step above Emanators in scale. What could be more valuable than THEIR blessing? An Aeon itself?
"Of course."
At his calm reply, Fu Xuan narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him more carefully than ever.
She missed no detail of Sylvester's expression, yet found no cracks.
His open invitation for her to open a can showed no hint of guilt or fear.
Her centuries of experience told her: this man truly believed his own words.
Hard to imagine what kind of trump card he held, to claim the Aeon's gaze was not the greatest prize.
Exhaling slowly, Fu Xuan fixed her gaze on the trash cans, steeling herself.
"So be it. This seat shall open a few. What harm is there?"
At last, business was underway. Sylvester grinned brightly. "I promise you won't be disappointed. Perhaps you'll even gain an Aeon's gaze, become an Emanator, and ascend straight to the position of Arbiter-General."
"The seat of Arbiter-General…" Fu Xuan whispered softly. That had always been her wish. "What is the price of these trash cans?"
"A mere one million Credits apiece."
"One million?!"
Fu Xuan gasped—not because it was too expensive, but because it seemed too cheap.
The worth of an Emanator was beyond price. If there were even greater treasures inside, how could he make money selling them so low?
One million Credits was certainly steep for common folk. But for the wealthy, or leaders of major factions, it was laughably cheap.
One million couldn't even buy a single starskiff!
If the contents were truly worth more, why sell them at all? Where was the profit?
It was baffling.
Sylvester read her thoughts in her eyes.
He chuckled. "Of course, the heavens don't drop pies into your lap. The trash cans may hold priceless treasures… or nothing at all. Some rise in a single bound, others open can after can with nothing to show for it."
"It is precisely because the risk is great that people are willing to pay a high price."