Night deepened, yet the lively atmosphere inside the auction house seemed untouched by the passage of time.
Amid the relentless exchange of bids, every gaze remained fixed on the item on display. Xue Yao was no exception. She sat upright, her slender figure taut with focus. That single drop... it felt as though it was speaking to her very blood. Her hands slowly clenched on her lap.
Beside her, Yifan observed every flicker of emotion that crossed the girl's face. He knew exactly what was running through her mind. And if Xue Yao desired something, why should he let her leave here disappointed?
Suddenly, a powerful voice boomed from another VIP room.
"Eight million Heavenly Stones!"
A young man stepped out, leaving his VIP room with a stride full of confidence. He was rather handsome, his eyes as sharp as a sword's edge. His white robe, embroidered with simple blue patterns, carried an understated dignity. At his waist hung a sheathed sword, gleaming faintly beneath the lights.
The moment he appeared, the crowd erupted into commotion.
"That's… that's Jian Yunhe, the Young Master of the Jianyuan Sect!" someone exclaimed.
"I never thought he would come," a woman whispered, her voice laced with admiration.
Jian Yunhe smiled calmly, though his very presence felt as sharp as a freshly whetted blade. The Jianyuan Sect was no minor sect — it was a well-respected middle-tier forces in the Northern Region, famed for its ancient sword heritage passed down for generations. Jian Yunhe himself was the pride of their younger generation, a genius whose name had spread far and wide. He had even claimed the position of Young Master after defeating countless competitors, only to shut himself away in seclusion to refine his swordsmanship. No one had expected him to appear at this auction.
At that moment, another voice echoed — calm, yet heavy with pressure.
"Ten million Heavenly Stones!"
The voice was clear, cold, and carried the majestic weight of a dragon's roar. Heads turned upward instinctively. The aura that spread from that VIP room sent chills down every spine, as though a celestial dragon had descended to gaze upon them from the heavens.
"That's… he is…"
"The second prince of the Yusheng Dynasty, Yu Tianlei!" Someone whispered, their voice trembling.
"He personally made a bid… for something like this?"
"Then who would dare oppose him?"
A wave of unrest swept through the hall.
Inside VIP room No.1, Yao Yue, who had been sitting calmly until now, slowly furrowed her crescent-shaped brows. The faint smile that usually graced her lips faded, replaced by a chilling sternness.
Jian Yunhe's fists tightened the instant he heard the ten-million bid. His expression turned grim. For him, Yu Tianlei was like a massive boulder that had suddenly fallen in his path. Yet even so, he dared not act rashly. To oppose the Yusheng Dynasty was nothing less than digging his own grave.
Then, a young man's tranquil voice drifted from VIP room No.1.
"Fifteen million Heavenly Stones."
The words were calm yet firm, like a gavel striking the heart of everyone present.
Silence. All eyes widened. Even the servants standing in the corners could not hide their astonishment.
Yu Tianlei let out a low laugh, his tone laced with pressure and mockery.
"So, someone dares to compete with this prince? Yao Yue, as Pavilion Mistress, you'd better hand over that drop of blood essence. The Yusheng Dynasty will owe you a favor."
Yu Tianlei believed Liuyao Pavilion wouldn't dare oppose the dynasty that stood behind him. He assumed they would give him face.
"Prince Tianlei, that would be against the rules. Whoever bids the highest wins," Yao Yue replied, her voice cold as frost.
Yu Tianlei was taken aback; he hadn't expected the mistress of a mere pavilion to dare deny him face.
"Have you forgotten who upholds the pillars of force in the Northern Region? Are you certain you want to offend the Yusheng Dynasty for someone else's sake? You'd better hand over that blood essence," Yu Tianlei said, his tone now a veiled threat.
The air turned oppressive, as if the entire hall had frozen. No one dared breathe too loudly.
But Yao Yue merely leaned back in her chair with elegance, tapping her fingers once against the armrest. Her gaze sharpened, her displeasure showing for a fleeting instant, before her lips curved again into a smile — one colder and sharper than a blade's edge.
"Liuyao Pavilion stands beneath the same sky as the Yusheng Dynasty. Does Prince Tianlei wish to claim that the sky itself belongs to your dynasty?" Her voice was like winter steel, cutting through the silence.
A wave of gasps rippled across the hall. The spectators' eyes widened.
"She actually dares to challenge the Prince Tianlei?"
"This is madness. Is she not afraid?"
"Pavilion Mistress Yao Yue has never bowed to anyone, not even to an upper-tier force," someone whispered in awe.
A chorus of hushed gasps spread through the audience — some gazed at Yao Yue with newfound respect, while others shuddered at the thought of defying the Yusheng Dynasty's prince.
Yu Tianlei's aura erupted from his VIP room, a tide of spiritual pressure sweeping across the hall and making the floor tremble. Many low-level cultivators turned pale, some even vomiting blood under the weight of the pressure.
But the pavilion's protective formation flared to life, glowing brilliantly as it shielded the entire auction hall. Yao Yue's voice rang out again, this time sharp and resolute, like a sword cutting through the dark.
"In this auction, the rules of Liuyao Pavilion reign supreme. Whoever enters must abide by them. Even if a dragon descends from the heavens, that dragon must still walk upon the earth."
The words struck like a blade. Yu Tianlei was silent for several breaths. When he spoke again, his voice was measured, yet laced with a frigid undertone.
"Very well. I will withdraw this time. But remember this, Yao Yue — the heavens never forget those who dare defy the dragon."
His voice faded, leaving behind a lingering chill that seeped into the bones of everyone present.
Silence fell. The oppressive aura slowly dissipated, though every heart still pounded within their chest. The electric tension of the two clashing forces still hung in the air, like the last rumble of distant thunder. Those who had been hoping for an actual battle could only feel a pang of disappointment — both sides had restrained themselves.
The auctioneer struck the gavel three times. "Sold!" The sound shattered the heavy silence.
The hall erupted again, though most were still left stunned.
A servant approached VIP room No.1, carrying a tray with great reverence. Yao Yue only spared it a brief glance before sliding it toward Yifan. This time, her smile was no longer cold but soft. Yifan picked up the blood essence, studied it briefly, then tossed it toward Xue Yao.
"It's yours. Refine it."
Xue Yao trembled, staring first at Yao Yue, then at Yifan. Her lips quivered, her voice catching in her throat.
"Young Master… I… I am not worthy…"
Yifan gazed at her for a long moment, as though peering straight into the depths of her heart. A faint smile curved his lips — gentle, yet carrying profound weight.
"Take it, Xue Yao. Your path is just beginning. Don't bury your own talent."
Tears welled in Xue Yao's eyes. She lowered her head, her hands trembling as she reached for the tray. Her heart felt heavy and light all at once, overwhelmed by a gratitude too deep for words. She clutched the blood essence tightly, vowing in her heart that one day, she would repay this kindness — even if it cost her life.
Watching this, Yao Yue felt a heat rise behind her eyes. Spending millions of Heavenly Stones just for this girl? At first, she thought Yifan intended to use it for himself, but she had clearly underestimated him. The realization sent a shiver down her spine, yet she felt an inexplicable sense of security in his presence.
Amid the noise of the crowd and the glittering lights of the auction hall, a pair of cold eyes glinted from behind the curtains of Yu Tianlei's VIP room. His gaze was filled with simmering hatred, like a wounded dragon waiting for the right moment to strike.