MO TIANLIAO RETURNED to the inn, fiddling with the hairpin in his hand, and took out a tiny carving knife to improve the crude workmanship. If he wasn’t mistaken, the woman he’d come across earlier had been one of his furnace tenders. He couldn’t remember which demonic sect had sent her to him, but it seemed like she had returned there after his demon palace broke up. But this was Woyun Sect’s territory; what was someone from a demonic sect doing here?
Mo Tianliao blew away the shavings from his carving work and turned to the cat licking his paw beside him. “Pawpaw, do you remember which sect sent me that female cultivator from earlier?”
The cat looked up at him, narrowed his eyes, and slashed at him with the full force of his spiritual energy. No doubt it would draw blood, and Mo Tianliao was so startled it scared his divine soul out of his arm.
Claws scraped against bark. Mo Tianliao looked down and saw that a small part of his arm had turned back into wood. The furry claws had torn through his sleeve, leaving four white streaks across the wood.
“Eh?” Mo Tianliao flexed his arm. His fingers could still move, and there was still sensation in the wooden part, although it was slightly duller than the parts made of flesh.
“Meow?” The cat’s eyes widened. He pressed it with his pink paw pad—it was hard, and it even came with a layer of light green tree bark. He stood up on his back legs and started to scratch at Mo Tianliao’s arm. This, he discovered, was fun. He clung on and went wild, clawing and scratching, gnawing and biting.
Mo Tianliao froze for a moment, then slowly drew his divine soul away from his fingers. They, too, gradually transformed into wood. When he restored his divine soul, they turned back to flesh and blood. His newfound ability to become inhuman at any time left him feeling rather conflicted. Picking up the furball who was still merrily using him as a scratching post, he lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.
The night passed uneventfully.
The next day, Mo Tianliao put on his cloak and returned to the auction house.
Cultivators with consigned goods entered with their wooden tokens, while those who didn’t had to fork out an admission fee of five low-grade spiritual stones.
Mo Tianliao kept his wooden token to himself, placed five spiritual stones on the tray at the entrance, and headed inside to find an inconspicuous corner to settle in. Those who presented wooden tokens were escorted by the attendants to designated private seats.
It didn’t take long for the hall to fill up with people. The lights dimmed, and a foundation establishment-level cultivator walked onto the stage with an amicable smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for gracing Auspicious Auction House with your presence. We have some rare treasures to share with you here today…” The auctioneer briefly explained the process. The treasures were all placed on the stage, each one covered with a red cloth. They would be unveiled individually, and the highest bidder would win possession. The auction house had powerful cultivators overseeing the process, the auctioneer reminded them, so they didn’t have to worry about anyone resorting to violence to get what they wanted.
Mo Tianliao scoffed. Nothing would happen inside the auction house, but outside? That was hard to say.
“The first treasure is a thousand-year Restoration Herb.” The cultivator on stage unveiled the first tray, revealing a greenish-yellow spiritual herb lying in a box made of frost jade. “Opening bid, four hundred and fifty low-grade spiritual stones.”
The Restoration Herb was a base ingredient for elixirs that could soothe the divine soul. A hundred-year herb could be made into a soul-soothing pill, a five-hundred-year herb into a soul-awakening pill, and a thousand-year one into soul-condensing pills. Soul-condensing pills were costly because they could calm agitated divine souls and repair damaged divine souls to some extent—and they were the only variety of pill that had this restorative effect.
Many elixirists bid on the herb the moment it appeared. Eventually, it went to someone for eighty medium-grade spiritual stones.
The first three items up for auction were all spiritual herbs and elixirs, which Mo Tianliao wasn’t interested in, so he took out his pack of fried fish and fed the cat under his cloak.
“The fourth item is a rare set of magical artifacts.” The auctioneer lifted the red cloth, unveiling the thousand-year Sinking Agarwood box, and opened it to reveal the wooden spikes inside. “Forty-nine wooden spikes made of Sinking Agarwood, with tips forged in dark iron. This is a set of exquisitely crafted high-grade magical artifacts. Opening bid is fifty medium-grade spiritual stones.”
“Wooden spikes made from Sinking Agarwood should be treasure artifacts. What’s the use of having them as magical artifacts?” muttered someone in the crowd. Having so many of these tiny objects was pointless if they couldn’t be controlled by the divine soul; just throwing them with your own hand wouldn’t do much damage.
As if expecting this, the auctioneer picked up a piece. “Why not see the power of this magical artifact first before leaping to conclusions?” An assistant brought out an adamantine rock about forty inches thick onto the stage. This sort of rock was exceedingly sturdy, on par with the toughness of a cultivator at the core formation stage.
The auctioneer channeled spiritual energy into the spike and threw it. It went right through the adamantine rock like a hot knife through butter.
The audience went into an uproar. Sinking Agarwood was known as a good choice for making concealed weapons, but this kind of effectiveness was unprecedented. So what if it wasn’t a treasure artifact? Throwing out a few of these during battle would puncture a few holes in their opponents’ bodies. Who could say—they might even turn the tide in their favor.
“Sixty!”
“Sixty-five!”
“Eighty!”
The bidding price quickly hit eighty, before slowing down as the bidders began to outbid each other one spiritual stone at a time.
“Ninety!” A female voice rang out with determination.
The crowd fell silent. This magical artifact was good, but it wasn’t worth spending over a hundred medium-grade spiritual stones.
“Ninety-five,” a voice said lazily from the corner.
The woman turned back and froze when she caught sight of a chin peeking out from under a black hood.
“A hundred!” the burly man beside her countered, unhappy that someone was fighting with his junior over the artifact.
“A hundred and one,” Mo Tianliao said leisurely as he fed the cat another fish.
“A hundred and five!” the burly man persisted.
Mo Tianliao continued gradually raising the price.
“A hundred and thirty!” After several counters, the man from the demonic sect shouted his highest offer and looked back smugly at the hooded figure, thinking he would counteroffer. After all, the price had already exceeded the artifact’s value, so the man must have been really desperate for it.
Mo Tianliao put away the fried fish, dusted his hands clean, and stopped bidding.
“Going once. Going twice. Sold!” The auctioneer on the stage was grinning from ear to ear. “Congratulations!”
The burly man’s jaw dropped as he looked at the wooden box being presented to him, then at his grateful-looking junior. He gritted his teeth and forked out the money.
“Our last treasure is extremely rare. If you win the bid, please remember to claim ownership here at our auction house.” The auctioneer paused dramatically. An item that required the winner to claim ownership would be either a spiritual artifact that could be nurtured in the dantian or an incredibly valuable spirit beast—either was enough to drive the crowd into a frenzy.
The cat in Mo Tianliao’s arms poked his head out of the tiny opening of the cloak. Mo Tianliao glanced around. The off-stage sitting area wasn’t illuminated, so no one should be able to notice this tiny furry head. He let the cat be.
After building suspense, the auctioneer removed the red cloth, revealing an iron cage containing a terrified leopard cub. At the sudden exposure to bright light, it let out a weak cry.
“A spirit beast!”
“I’ll pay whatever it takes!”
“Start the bidding now!”
The hall descended into chaos.
The cat tightened his paws on the cloak, ripping a large hole in the fabric.
✦ ✦ ✦
MINI EXTRA
Woodworker: I’m no longer human. How depressing.
Pawpaw: It’s all right. No matter what you become, you’re still the same in my heart.
Woodworker: *touched* What am I in your heart?
Pawpaw: A scratching post.
Woodworker: …That really doesn’t make me feel better.