The old man in the third-floor private box seemed somewhat annoyed and let out a cold snort, but in the end, he didn't bid again. After all, although this "ten thousand year ironwood heart" was good, it wasn't irreplaceable, and the price of three hundred thousand was already close to the upper limit of its value.
"Three hundred thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones, going once!"
"Three hundred thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones, going twice!"
"Three hundred thousand Mid-Grade Spirit Stones, going thrice! Sold! Congratulations to the Fellow Daoist from C-78!" Mo Yunxuan's wooden mallet fell, sealing the deal.
