Chapter 17:
Auction
ONCE HIS FELINE LORDSHIP was appeased, Mo Tianliao called for some dishes to be served.
Auspicious Bazaar only had one inn, so the food was mediocre and expensive. Pawpaw wasn’t at all tempted by the fish; he pushed it around in his bowl for a bit before shoving it aside.
Mo Tianliao planned to buy him some fresh fish later, so he paid him no heed and finished eating his own meal. In his previous life, before he’d started cultivating, he’d come from a poor background; after his family’s ruin, he’d often had to go hungry, and so unless the food was truly inedible, he usually cleaned his plate.
Pawpaw sat watching him, then lowered his head and dug into the deboned fish. He was no stranger to hunger himself, but since he’d been reunited with Mo Tianliao, he’d started being picky again without realizing it.
Mo Tianliao looked at the fluffy little guy nibbling on his fish and felt his heart ache a little. Back at his former palace, this fancy cat had dined only on spiritual fish raised in the waters of the Icesprings. “Don’t force yourself. I’ll buy you something else later.”
The cat looked up at him, swished his tail, and decisively shoved the jade bowl aside.
Resigned, Mo Tianliao got up, told the cat to stay put, and stepped out. Something didn’t feel right, though—he turned back and tucked the cat into his robes, and then he left for the streets again.
The sun had set, and Auspicious Bazaar was illuminated by lanterns. Unlike the commoners’ marketplace, the cultivators’ marketplace rarely closed completely. After all, some treasures only revealed their true forms at night. The shops were closed, but the small stalls in the public squares at the center of the marketplace were open for business. Treasures of all sorts filled the bazaar, from crystal goblets to sheer starlight silk and luminescent cups, gleaming like the Milky Way when seen from afar.
Mo Tianliao bought a pack of fried fish and popped one into his mouth before feeding another to the furry little mouth hidden in the opening of his cloak.
✦ ✦ ✦
“THIS GLASS HAIRPIN is so pretty. Shixiong, let me put it on for you.” A seductively attractive female cultivator held up a simple carved hairpin to the man behind her.
“I don’t think it suits me.” The burly man blushed at his junior’s words. He looked like he wanted to accept it, but the crystal-clear glass hairpin would look really odd on him. He’d be a laughingstock among his fellow disciples if he wore it.
“I thought as much. Perhaps only that particular man could do this hairpin justice. He tied his hair up sometimes,” the female cultivator muttered to herself. “I bet his hairpins are made of this kind of material. He did love light-colored glass…”
Displeased, the male cultivator grabbed the hairpin and tossed it back onto the stall. “How long has that man been dead now? Why do you keep thinking about him?”
“You—” The woman glared at him and was about to retort when she saw something that made her freeze.
“How much for this hairpin?” the newcomer said. He spoke casually, but his deep, pleasant voice resounded in the woman’s ears like a sudden thunderclap.
“Fifteen low-grade spiritual stones,” the stall owner—a cultivator—answered.
“The color and luster of the glass is good, but the crude workmanship ruins the material.” A slender hand reached out from the cloak to pick up the light-colored glass hairpin. The hairpin had a rudimentary design, a drifting cloud chasing the moon, carved with crude and rough strokes. “Five low-grade spiritual stones.”
“No can do. This piece cost me eight.” The cultivator wouldn’t budge.
“Then you might as well sell the glass itself. I’ll give you ten.”
The cultivator almost keeled over in rage.
“Venerable One…” the female cultivator blurted out, dazed.
The man in the cloak kept on haggling over the price as if he hadn’t heard her. Eventually, he got the hairpin for eight low-grade spiritual stones and left without looking back.