Over the past two days, Gu Yanqing and Lin Zhixue took on two more sect missions.
One was clearing an insect infestation along the outer perimeter of the medicinal fields, while the other was escorting a shipment of spirit materials from the market to the sect storehouse.
The missions themselves were not difficult, but their tacit coordination had grown to the point where they hardly needed words.
Whenever Gu Yanqing drew the attention of demon beasts from the front, Lin Zhixue’s sword always slipped in from the trickiest of angles.
Whenever she had her hands full, he would seamlessly fill whatever gap she left behind.
Even the disciple flipping through the logbook when they turned in their missions had come to recognize them.
“You two have been racking up points pretty fast lately.”
Gu Yanqing didn't respond, merely offering a faint smile, while Lin Zhixue just gave a slight nod.
On the way back to the courtyard, Gu Yanqing checked the spirit stones in his storage bag and counted the days.
When he had inquired at the market earlier, the spirit material shopkeeper had mentioned that this month’s small-scale auction was happening today.
Such small-to-mid-scale auctions were not held on a regular schedule; catching one was entirely a matter of luck.
He turned toward Lin Zhixue’s residence.
The door was slightly ajar. He knocked twice, but there was no response. After two more knocks, a muffled “Just a moment” finally came from within.
A few breaths later, the door swung open.
Lin Zhixue stood at the doorway. Her hair was loosely tied behind her head, with a few stray strands plastered to her forehead by sweat.
The Guilan Sword rested at the head of the bed, its blade still shimmering with a lingering pale blue sheen.
It seemed she had just been cultivating.
“What is it?” she asked.
“There’s an auction at the market today,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Want to go?”
Lin Zhixue hesitated.
She had little concept of auctions, knowing only that they were places to spend money. Though she had saved up some spirit stones recently, her materials for Foundation Establishment were not yet fully assembled, and the Dewdrop Grass had still not arrived.
Just as she was about to shake her head, Xiaoyu darted out from the jade pendant.
“Go! You have to go!” It floated right in front of Lin Zhixue, its emerald-green eyes shining with astonishing brightness.
“At an auction, you get to see all kinds of spirit materials and artifacts. It’ll do wonders for your cultivation!”
“Right now is precisely when you need to broaden your horizons. How can you make progress behind closed doors?”
“Besides, what if you come across a spiritual item suitable for you? Wouldn't it be such a shame to miss out?!”
It spoke with righteous conviction, having almost convinced itself.
In truth, Xiaoyu had never stepped foot inside an auction before; it only possessed faint, scattered memories about auctions from before falling into slumber within the jade pendant.
What they were really like, it couldn't say for sure. But that didn't stop it from spouting nonsense with absolute confidence.
Lin Zhixue looked at the excited Xiaoyu, then shifted her gaze back to Gu Yanqing, who was leaning against the doorframe waiting for her answer. “All right.”
...
The market was as bustling as ever. Stalls lined both sides of the street side by side—selling spirit fruits, talisman paper, and second-hand artifacts—with vendors’ shouts rising and falling in turn.
Gu Yanqing walked in front, while Lin Zhixue followed half a step behind, her eyes sweeping over the stalls on either side.
Xiaoyu floated near her ear, chattering incessantly. “Look at that vase! It has array patterns carved on it, but it’s a defective piece—the patterns are completely crooked.”
“That spirit fruit smells nice, but too bad it’s mortal grade. The spiritual energy in it isn't even as high as the spirit grain porridge from the sect's Dining Hall.”
“The sword in that artifact shop is somewhat interesting, though compared to your sword, it’s nothing but scrap metal.”
Lin Zhixue had long since grown accustomed to Xiaoyu’s chirpy nature.
Gu Yanqing stopped at an unassuming street corner.
Before them stood an unremarkable two-story wooden building. An aged plaque hung above the entrance, inscribed with three characters: “Treasure Gathering Pavilion.”
Two cultivators responsible for welcoming guests stood by the door, both at early Foundation Establishment.
He handed over the invitation he had obtained earlier. The attendant glanced at it and stepped aside.
Lin Zhixue followed him inside. The light dimmed for an instant before suddenly opening up into a spacious hall.
The hall was more than twice as large as it appeared from the outside, its walls inlaid with patterns of a spatial formation.
Dozens of rows of seats fanned out across the room. At the very front stood a waist-high display stage; while currently empty, its surface was polished to a mirror shine.
A row of crystal spirit lamps hung from the ceiling, illuminating the entire auction hall as bright as day.
Many people were already seated. Some conversed in hushed voices, some rested with their eyes closed, and others looked around just as she was doing.
A faint scent of sandalwood drifted in the air, separated from the secular clamor of the market by a thick set of doors.
Xiaoyu hovered up from her shoulder, circled in midair, and widened its emerald eyes.
“Zhixue, look at those lamps! They aren't powered by ordinary spirit stones—they run on mid-grade spirit stones!”
“A whole row of them just to light up an auction hall... that's far too extravagant!”
“And the formation patterns on that display stage are a dual overlay of an anti-peering formation and a protective formation. Not a low grade at all!”
Gu Yanqing sorely wished he could seal off his hearing to get some peace and quiet; this artifact spirit was truly an incorrigible chatterbox.
“This auction doesn't look all that big, but they certainly spared no expense.”
“Zhixue, do you think they’ll have those super powerful ancient remnants? Or lost pill formulas? Or maybe—a nameless but extraordinarily powerful sword?!”
Lin Zhixue didn't reply.
Gazing at the spirit lamps above the display stage, her fingers unconsciously traced the jade slip tucked in her sleeve.
Indeed, she had never been to a place like this.
The auction began on time.
The first few auction items were fairly unremarkable.
A few bottles of Foundation Establishment-stage Spirit Gathering Pills, a Mystic Low-Grade short dagger, and a talisman paper said to have been used by a Golden Core cultivator.
Gu Yanqing leaned against the back of his chair with his arms crossed, barely even lifting an eyelid.
Lin Zhixue sat quietly, occasionally glancing at the items on the stage before retracting her gaze.
Xiaoyu, on the other hand, had comments for every single piece, nitpicking everything from the pills’ quality to the artifacts’ forging craftsmanship—not a single item seemed worthy in its eyes.
Then, the fifth auction item was brought up. A sword.
The blade was slender and suffused with a faint golden shimmer. Embedded in its guard was a thumb-sized, earthy yellow spirit crystal, exuding a steady, heavy luster beneath the spirit lamps.
The deacon on the stage introduced the sword as “Rock Splitter,” a Mystic High-Grade weapon of dual metal and earth attributes that came with an earth-attribute defensive sword art, starting at a base bid of one hundred spirit stones.
Lin Zhixue’s gaze fell upon the blade and lingered.
Mystic High-Grade. Dual metal and earth attributes. She looked toward Gu Yanqing.
He was looking at the sword on the display stage, his expression unchanged, showing no sign of interest in bidding.
Yet she remembered clearly.
His sword was merely the most ordinary standard-issue longsword handed out by the sect, lacking even a grade.
Compared to the Guilan Sword she had obtained by chance, his sword had accompanied him through much harsher trials—fighting ice fiends in close quarters and confronting demon beasts head-on.
Xiaoyu noticed her gaze, floating over to follow her line of sight toward the sword on the stage, tilting its head without making a sound.
It knew they were surrounded by people now, and that only Lin Zhixue could hear its voice; if Lin Zhixue responded to it out loud, onlookers would only see an outer disciple muttering to herself.
Lin Zhixue leaned in slightly and lowered her voice. “That sword has metal and earth attributes.”
Gu Yanqing turned his head. “What about it?”
“For your sword,” she said, uttering just three words.
He understood what she left unsaid.
She probably wanted to bid on this sword for him. She had no need for it herself.
Her Guilan Sword was an Earth Grade spirit sword, an entire major rank higher than this Mystic High-Grade Rock Splitter.
She simply felt his sword was too subpar and that he could use an upgrade.
“I have no plans to change my sword for now,” he said.
He was not lying.
He was still cultivating 《Black Iron Body》, and the technique explicitly stated that upon mastery, every punch and kick was a weapon. At his current stage, wielding a sword was merely icing on the cake, not a necessity.
But it was different for her.
She was still in the Qi Refining stage; every single spirit stone she had ought to be spent on herself.
“I appreciate the thought,” he said, leaning back against his chair in an easygoing tone.
“However, I'm walking the path of body cultivation right now. My entire craft is in my fists and feet; a sword is just secondary.”
“As for you, you’ll be establishing your foundation in a few days. Save your spirit stones for yourself first.”
Lin Zhixue looked into his eyes and pursed her lips.
She could tell he wasn't just being polite.
She stayed silent for a few breaths before looking away and leaning back against her chair.
On the display stage, the Rock Splitter Sword was auctioned off to another cultivator for one hundred and forty spirit stones.
Lin Zhixue watched as the sword was carried down from the stage, her fingers curling slightly over her lap.
Xiaoyu hovered beside Lin Zhixue’s shoulder, its gaze darting back and forth between the two, uncharacteristically quiet without uttering a single word.
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