chsdbacks Chapter 29 The Secret Room Auction
Chapter 29 The Secret Room Auction
Two months after Chen Fan successfully completed the Foundation Establishment stage, a communication talisman silently pierced through the cave's restrictions and hovered three feet in front of him.
The talisman was plain white, bearing only three characters—"The Old Place"—below which was a strange mark he didn't recognize. It wasn't the emblem of Spirit Beast Mountain, nor was it the sign of any legitimate shop in the market. However, since he started mingling in the market during his Qi Refining stage, he had heard scattered rumors from rogue cultivators: near the Spirit Beast Mountain market, there was an extremely secretive underground auction house, specializing in the shady dealings between rogue cultivators and sect disciples. The entry requirements were extremely high; without an introduction from a seasoned customer, one needed sufficiently strong strength and a good reputation.
Chen Fan had never dealt with this name before. But the fact that the message was delivered so precisely to the restricted area of his cave meant the sender had thoroughly investigated him. To reach this level, they were either well-informed old foxes in the marketplace or someone within the sect acting as a middleman. Either way, it was worth investigating. After reaching Foundation Establishment, he desperately needed a way to access truly valuable information.
Chen Fan flicked his fingertips, and the communication talisman vanished as a wisp of green smoke. He patted the spirit beast pouch at his waist, and the armored beast's small head peeked out, its whiskers swaying slightly from side to side before silently retracting. In such situations, discretion and forbearance were the best course of action.
As night fell, Chen Fan changed into a wide, unremarkable black robe and used a disguise technique to change his appearance: his face was slightly dark, his nasolabial folds were deep, and his eyes drooped naturally, making him look exactly like a middle-aged rogue cultivator who had been traveling for many years and had experienced many hardships. He then quietly flew to the location indicated by the talisman.
The location was an abandoned mine thirty miles north of the Spirit Beast Mountain Market. The night was deep, and the mine entrance resembled the maw of a giant beast. Two cultivators, both dressed in black robes, stood like stone sculptures on either side, their auras both at the early Foundation Establishment stage. One of them held a small bronze bell, its surface covered with intricate runes, faintly emitting a probing fluctuation of divine sense.
"A token, or a referral mark," Brother Tuozhong said, his voice hoarse and dry, like sandpaper being rubbed.
Chen Fan remained silent, his fingertips slightly gathering magical power as he lit up the illusory mark on the communication talisman in front of him.
The monk Tuozhong nodded slightly and stepped aside. The other man's gaze, sharp as a hawk's, swept over Chen Fan without uttering a word. A thick black curtain hung at the mine entrance; when lifted, a downward-sloping mine tunnel was revealed. The rock walls on both sides were damp and cold, with a dimly lit luminous pearl embedded every few feet, barely illuminating the uneven path beneath their feet. The air was thick with the somber smell of earth and ore.
At the end of the mine tunnel, a bright and open space suddenly appeared.
The vast underground mining area had been transformed into a stone hall, approximately twenty zhang square and over two zhang high. In the center stood a rough stone platform three chi high, with dozens of simple stone chairs scattered around it. More than thirty people were already seated in the hall, all shrouded in wide black robes, many with their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods. Deathly silence reigned; a pin drop could be heard. Each person sat as still as if on an isolated island, at least a chair's distance apart. The aura within the hall was mixed, with most cultivators hovering around the Foundation Establishment stage. Several others possessed deep, restrained auras; Chen Fan's divine sense probed them like a stone sinking into the sea—likely old monsters at the late Foundation Establishment stage or even the Pseudo-Core Formation stage!
Chen Fan found a stone chair in the back corner and sat down, pulling his hood down to cover most of his face. The cold, hard stone chair felt uncomfortable through his thin black robe. He remained motionless, his gaze slowly sweeping across the room in the dim light: two exits, the mine tunnel he had come from, and a door behind the stone platform covered by a black cloth—this must be the backstage passage. If anything went wrong, that narrow mine tunnel would be a dead end.
After sitting for another half hour, more than ten figures silently entered the hall. When the stone chairs in the hall were about 70-80% full, the black cloth behind the stone platform was lifted, and an elderly man, also clad in black robes, slowly ascended the platform. The old man's cultivation was around the mid-Foundation Establishment stage, but his aura was as steady as a mountain, clearly indicating his long experience in this field. Behind him followed two burly men in black robes, each carrying a large iron cage covered in black cloth.
"Fellow Daoists, the rules remain the same." The old man's voice wasn't loud, but it was clearly heard by everyone thanks to the mine's unique acoustics. "The highest bidder wins, and the spirit stones will be exchanged on the spot. Once you step out of this door, you'll be strangers. If anyone wants to try and break the rules—"
He paused slightly, and his withered right hand emerged from his wide sleeve, holding a small bronze bell, which he shook gently.
"bite--"
The bell rang clearly and melodiously, not harshly. However, the instant the bell entered their ears, all the black-robed cultivators in the hall trembled! Chen Fan felt the Silver Light of the Prison-Suppressing Wall in his sea of consciousness suddenly intensify, spontaneously trembling and humming, firmly blocking a chilling and cunning wave of divine sense that pierced directly into the soul! A divine sense attack artifact! At least of the high-grade level, and a rare and ferocious object specifically designed to attack the soul! Using such an item to establish authority at the outset demonstrates the depth and strength of the waters behind this auction!
"Begin." The old man put away the copper bell, his tone returning to its calm, and waved his hand behind him. The first cloth-covered iron cage was lifted onto the stone platform, the black cloth lifted. Curled up inside was a demonic beast resembling a young leopard, its entire body as black as ink, its eyes tightly closed, its chest rising and falling slightly, clearly trapped by a powerful restriction. "Black Wind Leopard cub, second-tier bloodline. When fully grown, it will run like lightning, even a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator would find it difficult to catch up. Starting price: three hundred spirit stones."
There was a moment of silence from the audience, then someone raised a sign: "Three hundred and twenty."
"Three hundred and fifty!"
"Four hundred!"
The price quickly rose and it was eventually sold for 520 spirit stones.
The auction items were varied: a bottle of "Clear Spirit Pills," claimed to cure all poisons, was sold to a thin, black-robed cultivator for 280 spirit stones; a superior defensive inner armor, clearly of higher quality than Chen Fan's black-scaled soft armor, was bid up to 700 spirit stones and sold to someone in the front row; a superior fire-attribute flying sword, its cold light gleaming, changed hands for 900 spirit stones. Chen Fan remained seated throughout, not raising his paddle. He possessed the Golden Flame Spirit-Slaying Blade, more than enough for his needs. As for pills, the vortex in his palm could solve his immediate problem, but he hadn't yet obtained the Foundation Establishment Pill formula, so there was no need to rush.
After several rounds, the old man took a foot-long ebony box from the burly man behind him and gently opened it. Inside, on a red velvet lining, lay a jade slip. The jade was deep blue, smooth as a mirror, without a single pattern.
"The Ancient Concealing Breath Technique." The old man's voice carried a peculiar rhythm as he held up the jade slip. "It's a secret technique, not a primary cultivation slot. Once mastered, it allows one to conceal their cultivation aura at will, making it difficult for cultivators of the same level to fathom their depths. If one cultivates it to its full potential..." He glanced at the audience below, "even those a minor realm above can remain completely hidden! Starting price: two hundred spirit stones."
Chen Fan's body, hidden beneath his black robe, tensed instantly.
The Ancient Breath Concealing Technique! He had witnessed its wondrous power firsthand in Han Li's hands! After cultivating it at the Foundation Establishment stage, one could suppress their aura to the level of a Qi Refining stage cultivator. Without using their full strength, even a Core Formation cultivator would find it difficult to distinguish the real from the fake in a moment of panic! He was currently relying on disguise and spiritual power to suppress his aura, but this was ultimately a temporary measure, and he would easily be exposed if a master were to investigate. This Breath Concealing Technique, however, was a true secret art. Once mastered, one could control their aura at will, switching freely between the oppressive aura of a Foundation Establishment cultivator and the aura of a mortal! This was an unparalleled weapon for survival, stealth, and feigning weakness to ambush the enemy!
"Two hundred and ten." A person in the front row was the first to raise a sign.
"Two hundred and twenty," a low voice came from the corner.
The bidding climbed steadily to 260 spirit stones, and then the calls for bids became less frequent.
Chen Fan seized the opportunity and raised his number plate for the first time: "Three hundred."
The hall fell silent. The bid jump from 260 to 300 was a display of unwavering determination. The black-robed man in the front row, who had bid 260, whirled around. Beneath the shadow of his hood, his sharp, piercing eyes fixed on Chen Fan. His divine sense swept over Chen Fan's deliberately suppressed early Foundation Establishment aura, finding nothing amiss, before he coldly snorted and turned away, ceasing his bid.
"Three hundred spirit stones, deal." The old man gently brought down his gavel.
Chen Fan rose, walked to the stone platform, and took out three hundred low-grade spirit stones from his storage bag, neatly arranging them on the platform without any discrepancies. The old man pushed the ebony box forward. Chen Fan opened the box lid, his divine sense as fine as silk, instantly probing the jade slip—the cultivation technique was complete, the restrictions were intact, and there were no hidden tricks. He closed the wooden box, put it back into his bag, turned around, and returned to his seat, his movements as steady as ever.