Chapter 19: Xu Tianyang
"Ten thousand! The esteemed guest in VIP Suite Seven bids ten thousand Spirit Stones for the painting!"
Down on the main floor, a chaotic murmur erupted like a disturbed hornet’s nest. Countless cultivators shook their heads, exchanging glances that mixed awe with mockery. In the world of cultivation, experts were not uncommon, but throwing away ten thousand Spirit Stones on a faded painting that even the guild’s appraisers had labeled as effectively useless? That bordered on sheer madness.
"He truly has more wealth than sense," an elder from a minor sect muttered to his disciples, stroking his long white beard. "A fool and his money are easily parted, even if that fool possesses an unfathomable cultivation."
"First a zither for a hundred thousand, now a piece of trash for ten thousand. He must be a lunatic who managed to stumble upon an ancient treasury," another cultivator sneered quietly, not daring to speak too loudly lest the monster in Suite Seven hear him.
The general consensus was absolute: the mysterious senior in Suite Seven was throwing his wealth into a bottomless pit simply because he could.
However, not everyone shared that same thought. As across the hall, inside the lavishly decorated VIP Suite Three, sat Xu Tianyang.
As the eldest son and primary heir of the Xu Clan—one of the three major pillars of power in Azure Cloud City—Xu Tianyang possessed a reputation that commanded respect. He wore an immaculate silk robe, and a fan rested casually in his lap. Unlike the others, Xu Tianyang’s eyes were calm, calculating, and predatory.
He slowly rotated two simple spheres in his right hand, the soft clack-clack of the spheres filling the quiet room.
Standing behind him was a grizzled old man wrapped in gray robes, exuding the dense, terrifying spiritual aura of a mid-stage Core Formation expert. This was Uncle Yan, Xu Tianyang’s personal Dao protector.
"Young Master," Uncle Yan spoke. He cast a disdainful look toward the window of Suite Seven. "It seems that mysterious senior is merely a wealthy fool. Buying that Zither for a woman was already a supreme waste. Now he bids on a piece of scrap! Hmm.... Shall we prepare to leave?"
Xu Tianyang did not immediately reply. He stopped rotating the spheres. His hawkish gaze pierced through the one-way glass, locking onto the painting displayed on the auction stage, and then shifting toward the window of Suite Seven.
"Uncle Yan," Xu Tianyang began, his voice smooth and measured. "There’s a saying: ’The wind does not howl in an empty cave, and there are no waves without wind.’ Do you truly believe a man who can casually toss out a hundred thousand Spirit Stones is a brainless fool?"
Uncle Yan frowned. "Young Master, cultivation and intelligence do not always walk hand in hand. Some stumble into fortunate encounters and let the wealth rot their judgment."
"Perhaps," Xu Tianyang conceded, snapping his fan open with a sharp flick of his wrist. "But consider the facts. This man, projecting an aura that makes even the head steward tremble. He outbid the Heavenly Sound Pavilion with absolute, terrifying precision. He didn’t bid out of anger; he bid to crush their spirit entirely. That requires a cold, calculating mind."
Xu Tianyang stood up, pacing slowly toward the window, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the painting on the stage.
"At first, I didn’t care about that painting either," Xu Tianyang continued, his mind whirring with sharp deduction. "It looks like garbage. But let us review what the auctioneer actually said. It was pulled from the center of the Scorched Realm. The demonic fire in that realm can melt profound-grade steel into slag. Yet, a piece of painting survived untouched? Furthermore, the Guild’s Core Formation experts could not leave a single scratch on it."
He turned back to his Dao protector, a brilliant light flashing in his eyes.
"A man of unfathomable wealth and terrifying cultivation sits silently through the entire auction, ignoring high-tier pills and array flags. But the moment this painting from a demonic realm appears, he instantly bids twenty times the asking price without a second of hesitation."
Xu Tianyang snapped his fan shut, slapping it against his open palm.
"If he wants it this badly, it must be valuable," Xu Tianyang concluded, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. "He sees something the Guild’s appraisers missed. That painting is not trash. It holds a hidden legacy, a supreme martial art, or a map to an ancient cave. He is trying to snatch a heaven-defying treasure from right under our noses by relying on our ignorance!"
Uncle Yan’s eyes widened in realization. The logic was flawless. The mysterious senior was playing the pig to eat the tiger, masking his brilliant acquisition behind the guise of a wealthy madman.
"Then... what are your orders, Young Master?" Uncle Yan asked, his aura unconsciously rising.
"We bid," Xu Tianyang smiled, a cold, arrogant smirk curling his lips. "I am not a brainless fool who bids just to fight over face. I bid for profit. If that painting holds a supreme secret, the Xu Clan will claim it. If I am wrong and it truly is just a durable piece of garbage, then I will simply force that mysterious senior to bleed a river of Spirit Stones to acquire it. Either way, the Xu Clan loses nothing, and I test the true depth of Suite Seven."
Down on the main stage, the auctioneer was gripping his gavel, his face flushed.
"Ten thousand Spirit Stones going once!" the auctioneer called out, his voice echoing through the hall.
Inside VIP Suite Seven, Lin Yuan stood calmly by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Bai Qingyue sat quietly behind him, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
"Ten thousand going twice!" the auctioneer raised the gavel high above his head. "Are there any other bids for this mysterious artifact? If not, I shall drop the hammer!"
Just as the gavel began its downward arc, a smooth, commanding voice—laced with the unmistakable, arrogant confidence of a major clan’s heir—cut through the silence of the hall.
"Fifteen thousand Spirit Stones."
The gavel froze in mid-air.
The entire auction house erupted into a deafening uproar. The crowd was utterly stunned, their heads whipping frantically toward the source of the voice.
It was VIP Suite Three. The suite belonging to Xu Tianyang of the Xu Clan!
"Heavens above! Young Master Xu has entered the fray!" a merchant gasped.
"Is he insane? Why would the brilliant heir of the Xu Clan waste fifteen thousand Spirit Stones on a faded painting?" another cultivator exclaimed, completely baffled by the turn of events.
Inside Suite Three, Xu Tianyang stood by the edge of his balcony, looking directly across the massive hall at the window of Suite Seven. He offered a polite, yet undeniably provocative bow toward Lin Yuan’s direction.
"Senior in Suite Seven," Xu Tianyang began. "This junior, Xu Tianyang, suddenly finds himself intrigued by this mysterious painting. The Xu Clan has always appreciated things like this. I hope Senior will forgive this junior for joining the competition."
It was a masterclass in calculated arrogance. He was respectful in his words, but his actions were a direct challenge. He was stepping into the ring, signaling to the mysterious grandmaster that he was not fooled by his illusion of madness.
Inside Suite Seven, Lin Yuan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
The smile on his face vanished. The young master across the hall had correctly deduced that the painting held hidden value simply by observing Lin Yuan’s bidding pattern.
Clever, Lin Yuan thought, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. But cleverness is only useful when you possess the strength to back it up.