Chapter 53: The Pavilion of Eight Directions

“So many spirit stones—he’s not afraid I’ll abscond with the funds?” Weighing the bag in his hand, Song Changsheng joked.

“He only agreed after learning your identity. He believes your reputation is worth far more than ten thousand spirit stones.”

Song Changsheng curled his lips. If he were merely a wandering cultivator, he’d surely choose the spirit stones, but he was a scion of the Song family, grandson of Song Xianming, son of Xia Yunxue.

“Let’s see what he wants first.” Song Changsheng took the jade slip from the spatial pouch and pressed it to his forehead. What he saw was a plain, black stone.

Stones like this—there were hundreds, if not thousands, lining the roadside. Could it truly be some kind of treasure?

With skepticism, he asked, “Can this really be auctioned?”

Zhu Yiqun shrugged. “It’s a clue from that elder. He said if this item doesn’t appear at the auction, the Heart-Protecting Pill will be yours. He’s so confident—the clue must be accurate.”

“Very well. I’ll wade into these muddy waters then.” Having made up his mind, Song Changsheng bid Zhu Yiqun farewell and returned to the Treasure-Seeker Pavilion to await the auction…

———

Though the Flowing Cloud Market was nominally governed by six Foundation Establishment forces, everyone knew that the Eight Directions Pavilion was the true behemoth.

After all, in the Violet Imperial Realm, human cultivators started their path by guiding qi into their bodies, then ascended through Foundation Establishment, Violet Mansion, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Divine Transformation, and Void Refinement, before finally ascending to the upper realm and becoming true “Immortals.”

Ascension was a rarity; the number of human “Immortals” in the entire realm could be counted on two hands. Of the legacies they left, only five have endured to this day, honored as the Five Great Sacred Lands.

Thus, the whole cultivation world of humanity is divided into five continents, each guarded by a sacred land. The southern continent’s sacred land is the Yang Clan.

The Yang Clan is the overlord of the southern human lands, reigning atop the pyramid of power.

Below the sacred lands are the so-called top-tier powers—only those who currently possess or have ever possessed a Void Refinement master are counted among them.

The Eight Directions Pavilion is one such force. Though they now lack a Void Refinement master, their heritage runs deep and their shops span the realm—even remote Ling Prefecture bears their presence.

Their operations cover a vast range, and auctions are just one aspect.

In the Flowing Cloud Market, relying on their formidable background and strength, the Eight Directions Pavilion crushed all competing auction houses and reigns supreme.

---

They set regulations: a small auction every month, a grand auction every three years. The monthly auction merely accepts commissions from local cultivators in Ling Prefecture, earning commission fees.

The grand auction is different. Besides outside commissions, the Pavilion itself puts treasures up for bidding—of every kind imaginable. Each event draws cultivators from all corners of Ling Prefecture in droves.

The auction Song Changsheng would attend was just one of the monthly affairs—not as lively, but easier to attract attention.

Clad in the black robe Zhu Yiqun gifted him, he arrived early at the Pavilion’s auction house.

It was a stately three-story building: the first floor open to all, the second reserved for those with background or strength. The six major Foundation Establishment forces of Ling Prefecture each had their own private rooms on the second floor.

Song Changsheng could have entered his family’s room, but that would draw too much attention. He quietly found an inconspicuous corner and sat, patiently awaiting the start.

He had barely settled when another figure, likewise robed in black, approached and asked, “Friend, is this seat taken?”

Recognizing the familiar voice, Song Changsheng was momentarily stunned. He pulled the newcomer to the adjacent seat and whispered, “What are you doing here?”

Zhu Yiqun grinned. “I’m here to cover for you.”

“You’re being reckless! Do you realize the risks? Why get involved?” Though moved, Song Changsheng wanted him out of the mess.

“What’s there to fear? No matter how formidable those people are, they can’t compare to my old man’s enemies!” Zhu Yiqun replied carelessly.

Song Changsheng tried to dissuade him further, but at that moment, the auction house doors closed—the auction was about to begin.

He sighed helplessly, silently marking the debt of gratitude.

A clear “bang” sounded as the gavel fell, silencing the noisy hall. All eyes turned to the figure at the central auction podium.

She was a woman in pale palace attire, graceful and curvaceous, her hair piled high, a classic oval face, willow brows framing a pair of bewitching phoenix eyes, ruby lips and pearly teeth, her smile enchanting.

Holding a small wooden gavel, she surveyed the room and said in a sweet voice, “Thank you, fellow Daoists, for attending today’s auction. My name is Su Rou, your auctioneer. It is an honor to preside over tonight’s event, and I hope to bring you all good fortune.”

---

“I hereby announce the start of the Eight Directions Pavilion auction.

Our first item is a second-grade, low-tier magical artifact on the verge of evolving into a spirit artifact. The starting price is one thousand spirit stones, with minimum increments of two hundred. Bidding starts now.”

The moment Su Rou finished, the hall erupted. A magical artifact about to become a spirit artifact—a grand opening indeed!

“One thousand five hundred spirit stones!” someone immediately called.

“Two thousand!” “Two thousand five hundred!”

…

With frenzied bidding, the artifact’s price quickly soared to fifteen thousand spirit stones, and continued rising. In the end, a Foundation Establishment cultivator from the second floor secured it for twenty-three thousand.

That was far above the value of a second-grade, low-tier artifact—testament to the allure of spirit artifacts.

The auction opened with a bang, igniting the atmosphere. The next few lots fetched exorbitant prices.

Song Changsheng himself spent five hundred spirit stones on a second-grade metal ingot, then watched coldly, quietly awaiting his target.

As the auction neared its end, Su Rou produced a small box and opened it before the crowd. “Fellow Daoists, this item was transferred from another auction house in the Great Qi Empire.

After joint appraisal by several of our treasure experts, it is confirmed to be a treasure. But its value and origin remain unknown, and it has failed several auctions. The starting price is one thousand spirit stones, with free increments. Please bid as you see fit.”

Her words surprised the audience. The Eight Directions Pavilion had never offered such an ambiguous item—piquing everyone’s curiosity.

All eyes turned to the black object lying in the box…