Chapter 104 - The First Harvest
"However, the passage of time is cruel. As you can see, their vitality is almost completely dry. They have hardened into stone. To revive them would require immense care, rare spiritual spring water, and perhaps thousands of years of constant nourishment. Even then, there is no guarantee they will ever sprout."
A collective murmur of disappointment ran through the hall.
In the private rooms, the announcement drew silent scoffs.
Behind the light screen of Room Three, Elder Bai Cang of Alchemy Peak stroked his long beard, looking down with a flat gaze. ’That crafty old man,’ he thought. ’He is trying to inflate the price of dead wood with cheap history.’
Further down the pavilion, behind the veil of Room Five, Elder Yu of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect looked down coldly.
’Hmph,’ she thought. ’Do you think of us as fools?’
The ordinary cultivators on the floor shook their heads. To them, the seeds were useless paperweights. No one had thousands of years or unlimited resources to waste on a gamble.
"Therefore," Elder Feng said, striking the podium with his hand. "The auction house has decided to start the bidding at a modest three thousand spirit stones."
The hall fell silent. No one wanted to bid on dead seeds.
Inside Room Nine, Su Ming watched the quiet room. He attempted to send his divine sense toward the stage, but it struck the podium’s shield and rippled back. The block was absolute.
He did not hesitate. He focused his mind and activated his Essence Sight.
The world shifted in his vision. The physical stage and the barrier dissolved into patterns of spiritual energy. The defensive array appeared as a thick web of glowing silver lines, but it did not block his sight. He looked directly at the jade box.
Inside the dry, grey shells of the three seeds, he saw it. Buried deep within the dead stone was a tiny, microscopic spark of ancient vitality. It was faint, like a single ember buried under ash, but it was alive.
Su Ming smiled slightly. He could try to revive them. He had the Samsara Resin for such kind of things.
"Three thousand five hundred," a voice called out from the floor. A minor cultivator in the back row raised his hand, bidding out of curiosity.
Su Ming reached for his bid token.
"Four thousand," Su Ming’s voice projected through the voice-changing array of Room Nine, sounding flat and unrecognizable.
The crowd looked up toward the private rooms.
"Four thousand five hundred," a voice countered from Room Eight.
Shen Tianyu of the Nine Rivers Clan had raised his token. He did not care about the seeds, but testing the depth of the person in Room Nine was worth a shot.
"Five thousand," Su Ming answered immediately.
A brief murmur ran through the floor. From Room Eight, Shen Tianyu glared at Room Nine’s dark window. He scoffed and let his bid token drop. Wasting more than five thousand spirit stones on dead wood was foolish; his clan’s funds were needed for the actual treasures later.
The crowd on the floor whispered, some smirking openly.
"Look at that youngster," a rogue cultivator muttered. "Wasting five thousand stones on dead wood just to show off."
"Typical," another whispered. "They think their wealth is endless."
Su Ming did not care about the smirks.
On the stage, Elder Feng raised the gavel. "Five thousand spirit stones, going once. Going twice."
*Bang!*
The gavel struck.
"Sold to Room Nine," Elder Feng announced.
Su Ming sat back, taking a sip of his tea. The first item was his.
***
On the stage, the assistants carried the jade box away, replacing it with a thick slab of dark granite.
"Our next lot is a rare material," Elder Feng said, stepping aside as two men carried a heavy, dark mass of ore onto the stage. The floor creaked under its weight. "This is the Blackstar Meteorite Core. It fell from the heavens into the volcanic veins of the Southern Ridge. It is pure, star-forged iron, cold to the touch but radiating a faint heat from its core."
Su Ming watched the stage, his gaze sharpening.
He recalled the letter from Patriarch Wang. This was the metal element material mentioned there. He had already gathered the other elements on White Lotus Peak, so he only needed this to complete the five elemental essence set. After confirming with his Essence Sight, he was sure.
"The bidding starts at twenty thousand spirit stones," Elder Feng announced.
"Twenty-two thousand," a voice called out immediately from the front row.
Su Ming looked down. An old man had raised his hand. His knuckles were heavily calloused, his skin tanned from the heat, and a large iron hammer hung from his belt. He was a local blacksmith, well-known in the city.
"Twenty-five thousand," a disciple from some local sect shouted from the center of the hall.
"Twenty-eight thousand," Su Ming spoke into the voice-changing array.
"Thirty thousand," The private room number eight called out.
The merchant shook his head and lowered his hand.
"Thirty-two thousand," the old blacksmith grunted, glaring up at the second tier.
"Thirty-five thousand," the disciple bid, his face slightly flushed.
"Forty thousand," Su Ming countered.
The disciple sighed and sat back.
"Forty-two thousand," the old blacksmith called out, his jaw tight.
"Forty-five thousand," Su Ming answered immediately.
The hall murmured. A metal like the meteorite core was valuable, but only a master forge-master could refine it. To most cultivators, it was simply too stubborn to melt.
"Forty-eight thousand!" the old blacksmith roared, his hand trembling as he stared toward Room Nine. "Junior in Room Nine, show some respect to an old craftsman! Do not waste such metal. Let this old man have it!"
Su Ming was silent for a breath. He needed the metal element for his cultivation, and could not yield.
"Fifty thousand," Su Ming said, his voice flat.
The old blacksmith stared at Room Nine’s dark window for several breaths. He spat a sigh, letting his hand drop.
"Hmph. Spoiled young brats," the blacksmith muttered, loud enough for those around him to hear. "They throw spirit stones around like water, yet they do not even know how to heat a forge."
Su Ming ignored the grumbling.
On the stage, Elder Feng raised the gavel. "Fifty thousand spirit stones, going once. Going twice."
*Bang!*
"Sold to Room Nine," Elder Feng announced.
Su Ming sat back, taking a sip of his tea. The second lot was secured. He had already spent fifty-five thousand spirit stones, but his main goal was complete.