The week leading up to the Grand Auction was a period of quiet observation and information gathering for Li Yu's small faction. Their days were spent exploring the sprawling, vibrant districts of Sunken Treasure City, while their evenings were dedicated to consolidating their cultivation and sharing the intelligence they had gathered. They moved not as a unit, but as four separate individuals, each with their own task, meeting back at the inn at dusk to report their findings.
Brother Kai, with his steady demeanor and years of experience, focused on the major teahouses and information brokers, learning the names and reputations of the major factions attending the auction. Hu Jian, with his boisterous and friendly nature, spent his time in the bustling taverns and weapon shops, listening to the boasts and rumors of rogue cultivators and mercenaries. Lin Tao, with his quiet, almost invisible presence, shadowed the disciples of Elder Jin's faction, tracking their movements and identifying their key members.
Li Yu, however, spent his time in the Azure Pavilion district. He was a fish returning to water, and he moved through the canal-lined streets with a deep, instinctual comfort. His official purpose was to learn the market value of aquatic treasures, to better prepare for the auction. His true purpose was to cultivate. The sheer volume of aquatic life in the district was a boundless feast for his spirit. He would wander for hours, his «Myriad Rivers Returning to the Sea Art» a silent, deep current, drawing in a thousand tiny, harmless threads of Qi, each one a drop in the ever-growing ocean of his dantian.
It was during one of these quiet, wandering afternoons that he found himself in the less opulent, more functional part of the district, an area known as the Fisherman's Wharf. Here, there were no grand pavilions or powerful guilds. The canals were crowded with simple, rugged-looking fishing boats, and the air was thick with the scent of salt, fish, and hard work. This was where the city's mortal fishermen and low-level cultivators came to sell their daily catch.
His attention was drawn to a small, weather-beaten old man sitting on the edge of a pier, his face a mask of deep, helpless sorrow. Beside him, perched on a wooden post, was a large, elegant-looking bird with iridescent blue-black feathers. It was a Spirit-Eyed Cormorant, a low-grade Rank 1 demonic beast commonly used by fishermen. Its sharp, spirit-infused eyes could spot fish in the deepest, murkiest water, making it an invaluable partner. But this cormorant was clearly sick. It was listless, its vibrant feathers dull, and it refused the small, dried fish the old man offered it, letting out a weak, pained squawk.
A small crowd had gathered, their voices a mixture of pity and morbid advice.
"It's no use, Old Man Feng. The bird's spirit is fading. You should sell it for meat before it dies on you."
"He can't do that," another said. "That cormorant is his livelihood. Without it, his family will starve."
Li Yu watched from a distance, his spiritual sense extending towards the bird. As a creature that hunted in the water, the cormorant had a strong aquatic nature, and he could connect with it easily. Any other cultivator would simply sense a weakening life force, a spirit on the verge of collapse. But Li Yu felt something more. He was met with a feeling of profound, chilling coldness emanating from the bird's core, a deep internal chill that was actively clashing with its natural, vibrant Yang vitality. It wasn't sick in a conventional sense; it was being slowly frozen from the inside out. He could feel that the source was a foreign, Yin-aspected energy it had ingested.
It was a subtle spiritual imbalance, a problem of conflicting energies that no ordinary spiritual sense could possibly diagnose. But for a poor fisherman who couldn't afford the exorbitant fees of a guild beast tamer, it was a death sentence for his companion and his family.
Li Yu felt a pang of sympathy. He remembered his own days of helpless poverty in Clearwater Village. He walked forward, his expression one of innocent curiosity.
"Excuse me, uncle," he said to the old fisherman, his voice polite. "Your bird is very beautiful. Is it sick?"
Old Man Feng looked up at the well-dressed, polite young disciple, his eyes filled with a weary sadness. "It is, Young Master. It has not eaten in three days. I fear… I fear its time has come."
"My father used to raise fishing birds too," Li Yu said, weaving another of his plausible lies. "Sometimes, after diving in the cold, deep channels during winter, they would get a deep chill that wouldn't go away. He had a strange, old remedy for it." He looked at the old man, his face a mask of sincerity. "He would find Sun-Dried River Kelp, the kind that grows on the sunniest rocks, and grind it into a paste with a bit of fish. He said the warmth of the sun stored in the kelp would warm the bird's belly from the inside."
It was a simple, rustic-sounding solution. The "Sun-Dried River Kelp" was a common, low-grade spiritual plant known for its mild, warming Yang properties.
The old man looked at him, a flicker of desperate hope in his eyes. "Sun-Dried River Kelp? I… I think I have some on my boat."
"It might not work," Li Yu said with a hesitant shrug. "It's just an old village remedy. But… it can't hurt to try, can it?"
Ten minutes later, the old man returned with a small, pungent paste of the kelp and fish. He offered it to the cormorant, which, after some gentle coaxing, finally swallowed it.
Li Yu did not leave. He stood and watched. He focused his spiritual sense on the bird's stomach. The kelp's mild Yang energy began to work, but it was too weak to counteract the deep-seated chill. Then, Li Yu acted. He sent a minuscule, incredibly precise thread of his Koi spirit's pure Yang vitality, so subtle it was like a ghost, into the bird. He channeled it through the kelp paste, using the herb as a medium to disguise the true source of the power.
The effect was like a drop of sun falling into a frozen pond. The pure, vibrant energy met the cold, foreign Yin energy, and instead of a violent clash, it gently, completely neutralized it. The deep chill within the cormorant vanished, its internal balance restored in an instant.
The bird shuddered, its dull feathers seeming to regain their luster in a single breath. It blinked its sharp, intelligent eyes, and then, for the first time in days, it let out a loud, clear, and hungry cry. It immediately snatched one of the dried fish from the old man's hand and swallowed it with gusto.
A stunned silence fell over the small crowd, followed by a wave of disbelieving murmurs. Old Man Feng stared at his now-healthy bird, and then at Li Yu, his eyes filling with tears of profound, overwhelming gratitude.
He fell to his knees. "Young Master!" he cried, his voice choked with emotion. "You… you saved him! You saved my family! This old man has nothing to offer, but if you ever need anything—a guide to the city's waterways, a story from the old days, or just a place to share a warm meal!"
"Please, uncle, get up," Li Yu said, helping the old man to his feet. "It was just an old remedy. I am glad it worked." He gave the old man a final, warm smile before melting back into the crowd, leaving behind a story that would be told and retold on the Fisherman's Wharf for years to come—the tale of the kind, lucky young disciple who had saved Old Man Feng's cormorant.
A few days later, seeking to test his new «Abyssal Dragon's Shadow» technique, Li Yu sought out one of the most secluded and quiet parts of the city: the Alchemist's Canal. It was a deep, slow-moving waterway in a district populated by reclusive, eccentric alchemists and artifact refiners. The spiritual energy here was chaotic, a messy mix of a hundred different potent ingredients, making it the perfect place to practice concealing his aura.
He found a quiet, willow-lined bank and was about to begin his practice when he noticed an old man sitting on a gnarled root a short distance away, fishing. The man was ancient, his face a roadmap of deep wrinkles, and he wore the simple, grey robes of a commoner. But Li Yu's spiritual sense screamed at him. The old man's aura was so deep, so perfectly contained, that he seemed like a black hole, a part of the world itself. This was a terrifyingly powerful expert, likely far stronger than even Elder Quan.
The old man was fishing with a simple line and a strange, glowing bait, his posture one of absolute, meditative patience. Li Yu extended his spiritual sense into the water and immediately understood the situation. The old man was angling for a single, incredibly rare fish. It was a Rank 5 Starlight Fin, a creature whose scales could be used as a primary ingredient in high-grade soul-perception pills.
Li Yu could feel the fish's consciousness. It was not hungry. It was anxious, searching for something. He listened to its simple, instinctual desires and found the answer. It was a female, ready to spawn, and was ignoring the delicious bait because it was desperately searching for a specific type of glowing, hollow reed to lay its eggs in.
Li Yu watched for a long time. He knew that for an expert of the old man's caliber, catching the fish was a simple matter. With his power, he could drain the canal dry or simply snatch the fish from the water with his spiritual energy. The fact that he was fishing with a line and bait meant this was not a task; it was a pastime, a moment of leisure. The old man wasn't struggling to catch the fish; he was enjoying the process of trying.
Li Yu knew this was an opportunity. He subtly left his spot and made his way to a nearby market that sold common spiritual plants. He bought a small bundle of cheap, low-grade Glow-Weeds, the very reeds the Starlight Fin was searching for.
He returned to the canal, making sure to approach from a different direction. He walked along the bank, and as he passed behind the old alchemist, he "tripped" on a root, letting out a small, clumsy yelp. The bundle of Glow-Weeds flew from his hand and landed in the water with a soft splash, right next to the old man's glowing lure.
The effect was instantaneous. The Starlight Fin, which had been ignoring the bait, saw the reeds and shot forward like a silver arrow, its primal need to spawn overwhelming its caution. It began to nudge the reeds, and in its excitement, it swallowed the old man's lure.
The old man's wrist flicked with a speed that defied his age, and a moment later, the shimmering, starlight-scaled fish was on the bank.
The old alchemist looked at the fish, then turned his head and looked directly at Li Yu, his ancient eyes filled not with anger, but with a deep, profound amusement.
"That was either the luckiest stumble in the history of this city, young man," he said, his voice a dry, raspy whisper, "or you have a very interesting way of fishing."
Li Yu bowed his head, his heart calm. He knew he had been seen through. "This disciple was clumsy. I apologize for disturbing the elder's peace and ending your sport."
"Ending my sport?" the old man chuckled. "Young man, I have been enjoying the challenge of this stubborn fish for three weeks. You have simply brought the game to a satisfying conclusion." He stood up, and as he did, his commoner's aura dissolved, replaced by the vast, terrifying presence of a master alchemist, a true powerhouse of the city. "I am called Old Man Jiu. And I appreciate an interesting mind."
He tossed a small, fiery-red token to Li Yu. It was warm to the touch and carved with the image of a bubbling cauldron. "That is a token of my favor. I find you interesting. If you ever find yourself in need of a pill refined, a poison cured, or an enemy… removed… bring it to me. I will grant you one request within reason."
Li Yu caught the token, the weight of the favor it represented immense. "Elder Jiu is too generous. It was merely an accident."
"Of course, it was," the old man said with a knowing wink. "A very, very fortunate accident." He turned and walked away, the rare fish in one hand, disappearing into the winding alleyways of the district, leaving Li Yu alone on the bank.
Li Yu looked at the fiery token in his hand. He had come to this city to find a treasure. But in his first week, he had already discovered that the greatest treasures were not always the ones that could be bought with spirit stones. He had gained the loyalty of a simple fisherman and the favor of a master alchemist, all without revealing a single one of his true secrets. The currents of this new, vast city were treacherous, but he was beginning to learn how to navigate them like a true serpent of the deep.