Chapter 20: A Battle of Wits
Fifteen thousand Spirit Stones.
For a weathered painting that could offer nothing but mild defenses, the sum was nothing short of astronomical. Down on the main floor, the sea of cultivators exchanged frantic glances.
"Is the world ending?" Someone said. "First the madman in Suite Seven, and now Young Master Xu? Are they seeing a supreme treasure where we see only dog feces?"
"Fools! Do you not see what is happening?" an elderly scholar-cultivator whispered harshly, his eyes darting between the two VIP suites. "This is not about the painting. This is a clash of titans! The Xu Clan is testing the waters, trying to pry open the jaws of the hidden dragon in Suite Seven to see if he possesses real fangs!"
Inside Suite Seven, Lin Yuan stood unmoving by the window. The cold glint in his pupils deepened. He could see right through Xu Tianyang’s polite facade. The young master was clever, attempting to snatch the cicada by relying on Lin Yuan’s own discerning eye.
"Cleverness," Lin Yuan murmured softly to himself, "is a double-edged sword. If you do not have the strength to wield it, you will only end up cutting your own throat."
He did not wait for the auctioneer to recover from his shock. Lin Yuan leaned forward slightly, projecting his disguised, ancient-sounding voice.
"Fifty thousand Spirit Stones."
BOOM!
The collective gasp from the auction floor sounded like a thunderclap. The casual, almost bored tone in which Lin Yuan multiplied Xu Tianyang’s bid by more than three times struck the crowd like a physical blow.
In VIP Suite Three, Xu Tianyang’s confident smile stiffened. The rhythmic clicking of the spheres in his hand abruptly halted.
His Dao protector, Uncle Yan, took a sharp breath. "Young Master... fifty thousand. For an unverified item. This senior is ruthless. He is attempting to crush your heart with sheer wealth."
"He is trying to scare me away," Xu Tianyang replied, his eyes narrowing. He forced his signature arrogant smirk back onto his face. He refused to be intimidated. If the senior was willing to throw fifty thousand at it, the painting absolutely contained a heaven-defying secret.
Xu Tianyang stepped closer to his balcony. "Senior’s wealth is truly as vast as the four oceans. However, the Xu Clan has a profound love for ancient mysteries. Sixty thousand Spirit Stones."
"One hundred thousand," Lin Yuan answered instantly. There was not a single hesitation.
The head auctioneer’s knees buckled, and he had to grip the wooden podium to keep from collapsing. "O-One hundred thousand! Suite Seven bids one hundred thousand!"
The crowd was completely numb. It felt as though the concept of money had lost all meaning. One hundred thousand Spirit Stones for a zither? Understandable for a madman in love. But one hundred thousand for a piece of weathered painting? This was a level of wealth that defied the very heavens!
Xu Tianyang’s face finally lost its color. The spheres in his hand groaned under his tightening grip.
He had expected a bidding war.
"Young Master, stop!" Uncle Yan hissed urgently, stepping forward to grip Xu Tianyang’s shoulder. "This is a dangerous game! If you bid one hundred and ten thousand, and he suddenly retracts his bid, you will be left holding a piece of trash! The Patriarch will skin you alive for bankrupting a decade of our clan’s resources on a gamble!"
Xu Tianyang gritted his teeth, a drop of cold sweat sliding down his temple. The saying ’Riding a tiger is hard to dismount’ echoed violently in his mind.
He was trapped in his own cleverness. He believed the painting was a supreme treasure because Lin Yuan wanted it. But what if Lin Yuan was simply a lunatic? What if this was an elaborate trap designed to humiliate the Xu Clan? The psychological pressure emanating from the window of Suite Seven was suffocating.
"Senior," Xu Tianyang called out, his voice losing a fraction of its former smoothness, betraying a hint of strain. "To spend one hundred thousand Spirit Stones on a painting... surely there is a profound secret hidden within it? Would Senior be willing to enlighten this junior?"
It was a desperate probe. A plea for a hint to justify continuing this bidding.
Inside Suite Seven, Lin Yuan let out a low chuckle that sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the auction house.
"The secret, junior," Lin Yuan’s voice rumbled, "is that I desire it. And what I desire, I take. Do not mistake your shallow cunning for true wisdom. A frog at the bottom of a well may cleverly deduce the shape of the moon, but it can never reach out and grasp it. Bid again, if you dare."
The sheer arrogance in Lin Yuan’s words struck Xu Tianyang like a physical slap to the face. He was the most brilliant heir in Azure Cloud City, yet he was being publicly treated like an unruly toddler playing with wooden blocks!
Driven by a surge of bruised pride and the absolute certainty that the painting was a supreme artifact, Xu Tianyang pushed past his Dao protector’s warning.
"One hundred and fifty thousand Spirit Stones!" Xu Tianyang roared.
The auction house descended into absolute chaos!
Xu Tianyang panted heavily, gripping the balcony railing. ’I have forced his hand,’ he thought wildly. ’Even a Nascent Soul monster would feel the sting of one hundred and fifty thousand! Let us see you casually top that!’
Lin Yuan did not even look at him. He turned his back to the window, offering a gentle smile to Bai Qingyue, who was watching him with a mix of awe and amusement.
"Three hundred thousand."
The words were spoken softly.
Three hundred thousand Spirit Stones.
The head auctioneer fainted, collapsing backward onto the stage. Two attendants had to frantically rush out, slapping his face to wake him up just so the auction could continue.
In Suite Three, the spheres in Xu Tianyang’s hand shattered into fine dust. He stumbled backward, his legs giving out completely as he collapsed into his armchair. His face was as pale as a fresh corpse.
Three hundred thousand.
It was a number that broke the young master’s mind. Lin Yuan had just effectively stated that he could outspend the entire Xu Clan without batting an eye.
Uncle Yan exhaled, looking at Suite Seven with absolute terror. "Yield, Young Master. To fight him is to hit a stone with an egg."
Xu Tianyang closed his eyes, swallowing the bitterest pill of his entire life. His cleverness had failed him. His status meant nothing. In the face of absolute, infinite power—financial or martial—all schemes turned to ash.
He didn’t speak another word. The silence from Suite Three was the ultimate declaration of surrender.
On the stage, the auctioneer shakily climbed back to his feet, gripping the podium.
"T-Three hundred thousand going once!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "Three hundred thousand going twice! Sold! Sold to the supreme expert in Suite Seven!"
Bang!
The gavel struck the wood, finalizing the most legendary, absurd transaction in the history of Azure Cloud City.
Inside Suite Seven, Lin Yuan casually tossed three spatial pouches onto the silver platter of the terrified attendant who had rushed in to deliver the painting. He hadn’t even felt a dent in the massive fortune the Millionfold Return System had granted him.
As the attendant fled the room, Lin Yuan gently picked up the painting.
The moment his fingers brushed the coarse paper, the hidden Dao traces within it surged to life, invisible to the naked eye but roaring like a monsoon within Lin Yuan’s mind. His Dao of Rain trembled in profound resonance, eagerly hungering to devour the supreme understanding locked within it.