The auction began.
The lights on the first floor dimmed, leaving only a single beam of white light on the auction stage. In the center of that beam stood a middle-aged woman in a deep red dress.
Her hair was pinned up in a high bun, and a golden Myriad Merchants badge was pinned to her chest. Her voice was not loud, but it could be heard clearly throughout the entire hall.
“The first item.” She raised her hand, and the screen behind her simultaneously displayed an image of the first item—a silver-white crystal the size of a fist, with arcs of lightning flickering inside it.
“A specialty of the Western Dragon Domain: an earth-affinity dragon crystal. Produced in the Northern Wasteland, taken from the dragon core fragment of a fallen Earth Dragon.”
“It can be used for weapon enchantment, formation cores, or direct absorption. Starting bid: three thousand gold coins.”
Someone on the ground floor immediately raised a paddle. “Three thousand five.”
“Four thousand.”
“Four thousand five.”
Elsa was leaning over the railing on the second floor, her eyes sparkling. “A dragon crystal! I’ve only seen those a few times in my life, and most of them were in the Family’s treasury. That one’s bigger than my fist—”
“You’ve never seen a bigger one.” Valeris’s voice came from beside her. “Myriad Merchants auctioned off a higher-grade one last year. The final price for that one was twenty times this one.”
Elsa’s mouth formed an O shape, and she was silent for a long time.
Reginald sat beside her, unusually motionless, just quietly watching the bidding below.
His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest—Xuanxi noticed that the rhythm of his tapping almost matched the rhythm of the paddles being raised below. He was calculating the price of the auction item.
“What, do you want it?” Xuanxi asked.
Reginald shook his head. “The current price isn’t worth it anymore.” He paused.
“The value of a dragon crystal depends on its purity. This one has impurities inside; at least thirty percent of its power would be lost during absorption. It’s not worth it once the bid hits six thousand gold.”
Just then, someone below shouted “Six thousand,” and Reginald fell silent.
The second item was a set of deep green light armor.
“Vine armor produced by the elf tribe of the Southern Continent, made from millennium ancient vines from the Endless Forest. Thin as a cicada’s wing, but capable of blocking physical attacks below A-rank. Starting bid: five thousand gold coins.”
“How come there’s something from the elf tribe here?” Elsa leaned back over the railing.
“And it’s millennium ancient vine at that.” Valeris picked up her teacup. “Logically speaking, this is military supplies. The elf tribe wouldn’t sell it easily. This set was probably looted from a battlefield.”
“Battlefield? Who’s fighting the elf tribe?”
“Humans.” Valeris’s tone was flat. “Over the past few decades, the Human Kingdom’s territory has been expanding steadily, pushing right to the edge of the Endless Forest. The elf tribe refuses to retreat, so the two sides started fighting.”
Someone on the ground floor raised a paddle. Xuanxi followed the sound—a middle-aged man in a dark blue uniform, with the badge of the Steel Bristle Family pinned to his chest. It was Reginald’s father.
“Your father is buying?” Xuanxi asked.
Reginald nodded. “The Steel Bristle Family’s guard needs light armor. The elf tribe’s vine armor is lighter than the metal armor from the West, making it more suitable for use.”
Elsa turned to look at him. “What, is your family going to war?”
“Not war. Just routine patrols.” Reginald didn’t elaborate.
The third item was a shortsword, its silver-white blade densely carved with runes. “A rune shortsword produced by the Human Kingdom.”
“It has three elemental runes inscribed on it simultaneously—flame, frost, and lightning. They can be activated by the user’s elemental attribute. Starting bid: eight thousand gold coins.”
Elsa’s mouth fell open again. “Three runes? Humans can make something this powerful?”
“Humans can make anything.” Hildegrifa’s voice came from the side. It was the first time she had commented on an item.
“They can’t use magic, so they find ways to carve magic into metal. They can’t undergo dragon transformation, so they find ways to weave dragon scales into armor.”
“They can’t breathe dragon fire, so they find ways to build machines that can spit fire. They can’t do anything, so they can do everything.”
Xuanxi looked at her. The amethyst-colored eyes reflected the light from the auction stage below.
“You rarely praise anyone, especially not an alien race,” Xuanxi said.
“I’m just stating the facts.” Hildegrifa’s tone didn’t change, but her finger tapped lightly on the armrest—Xuanxi noticed that the rhythm of her tapping matched the bidding rhythm below. She was appraising the value.
Someone below shouted “Ten thousand,” and another voice shouted “Twelve thousand,” “Fifteen thousand,” “Twenty thousand.”
The price climbed, finally stopping at twenty-five thousand gold coins. The winner was a woman in a deep red long dress, with light golden hair and ice-blue eyes—Valeris’s mother.
“Your mother buys human things?” Xuanxi asked.
Valeris glanced at her. “The artisans of the House of Frostmark have been studying the craftsmanship of rune shortswords. She probably bought it for disassembly and research.”
“Bought it to take apart?”
“Take it apart. And whether she can put it back together is another matter.”
The fourth item was a dark red ore.
“Blood steel from the beast tribe of the Western Continent, produced in the volcanic crater deep within the wasteland. Hard texture, high affinity for enchantments. A material coveted by blacksmiths of the Western Dragon Domain. Starting bid: ten thousand gold coins.”
Elsa leaned back over the railing. “Blood steel! My father said a weapon forged from blood steel can be passed down for three generations—”
“That’s because blood steel is too hard and the forging cost is too high. No one’s willing to use it.” Reginald said. “The Ashen Family bought a piece last year, and it’s still sitting in their warehouse collecting dust.”
Elsa opened her mouth to retort, but realized Reginald was telling the truth. She sighed and rested her chin on the railing. “I don’t understand the world of the rich. Spending that many gold coins just to hire a warehouse manager.”
On the auction stage, the auctioneer’s voice rang out again. “The fifth item.” She raised her hand, and the screen displayed a yellowed scroll, its edges worn, tied with a red string.
“An Ancient Scroll Fragment from the Eastern Dragon Domain. It contains cultivation theories of the eastern dragon clan. Starting bid: twenty thousand gold coins.”
Xuanxi’s fingers froze for a moment.
“Something from the Eastern Dragon Domain?” Elsa lowered her voice and turned to look at Xuanxi.
Someone on the ground floor raised a paddle. “Twenty-five thousand.” The voice came from an old man in a silver-gray robe—Xuanxi didn’t recognize him, but Elsa did.
“That’s an Elder of the Wolf Family,” she whispered to Xuanxi.
Another paddle went up. “Thirty thousand.” This time it was a middle-aged man in a dark blue uniform—Reginald’s father.
“The Steel Bristle Family is interested in the eastern dragon clan too?” Valeris’s voice came from beside them.
Reginald glanced at her. “Not really interested. If the price is right, we’ll resell it to collectors on the Central Continent and make a profit.”
(Forty thousand.) Another voice came from the second floor.
Xuanxi turned her head and found that the bidder was Valeris—she had raised her numbered paddle, her ice-blue eyes fixed on the auction stage, her expression unchanged.
“What are you buying that for?” Elsa asked.
Valeris didn’t answer. Someone on the ground floor raised a paddle again. “Fifty thousand.”
“Sixty thousand.” Valeris raised her paddle again.
“Seventy thousand.”
“Seventy thousand.” The Elder of the Wolf Family on the ground floor didn’t back down.
Valeris lowered her paddle, picked up her teacup, and took a sip. “I’m done.” Elsa’s eyes went wide. “You’re just messing with them?”
“The price exceeded my budget.” Valeris’s tone was flat. “And that ancient scroll is a fragment. It’s missing the most important pages. It’s not worth it.”
“How do you know it’s missing the most important pages?” Xuanxi asked.
Valeris looked at her. “Because the complete version is in my mother’s notes. You’ve already seen it, haven’t you?”
On the auction stage, that scroll fell into the hands of the Wolf Family for seventy thousand gold coins. The auctioneer struck her small hammer with a crisp sound. “Sold.”
Elsa rested her chin on the back of her hand. “Seventy thousand gold coins… that’s enough to last me a really, really long time.”
The sixth item was a palm-sized wooden box. The box was black, carved with intricate patterns. The auctioneer didn’t open it immediately.
She looked at the crowd below, paused for a few seconds. “The sixth item comes from the Eastern Dragon Domain. But as for what it actually is, even our auction house doesn’t know.”
A low murmur rose from the crowd below. “You’re auctioning something without knowing what it is?” “What is Myriad Merchants up to?”
The auctioneer raised her hand, and the murmuring stopped.
“This item was acquired by Myriad Merchants from a traveling merchant on the Central Continent. The merchant said he brought it out of the Eastern Dragon Domain, but didn’t know its purpose. Myriad Merchants consulted multiple appraisers, and none could determine its origin or value.” She paused.
“So we placed it as the sixth item—not because it’s not precious, but because we don’t know how precious it is. Therefore, the starting bid is only five thousand gold coins.”
“Five thousand for something nobody knows what it is?” Elsa frowned. “Who would buy that?”
As if on cue, someone on the ground floor raised a paddle. “Five thousand.” The voice was quiet but sincere.
Xuanxi followed the sound—a person in a dark gray robe, sitting in a corner of the general seating area, their hood pulled low, face obscured. There were no attendants or servants beside them. They came alone.
“Who is that?” Xuanxi asked.
No one answered her.
“Six thousand.” Another voice came from the VIP section. Valeris raised her paddle again. Elsa turned to look at her. “Didn’t you say not to buy something when you don’t know what it is?”
“I said that scroll fragment wasn’t worth seventy thousand.” Valeris lowered her paddle. “This is different.”
“How is it different?”
“You know what the scroll fragment is missing, so you know it’s not worth it. With something unknown, you don’t know whether it’s worth it or not, so it might be worth it.”
Elsa opened her mouth, then closed it. “You talk in circles.”
“Seven thousand.” The hooded figure in the general seating area raised a paddle again.
“Eight thousand.” Valeris didn’t hesitate.
“Nine thousand.”
“Ten thousand.”
The hooded figure was silent for a moment, then stood up, turned, and left. Their seat was empty. Valeris watched the empty seat, her ice-blue eyes narrowing slightly. She had won, but her expression held no joy of acquiring a treasure.
“What’s wrong?” Xuanxi asked.
“Nothing. Probably just my imagination.” Valeris withdrew her gaze.
The wooden box was brought to the second floor. Valeris took it and placed it on her lap. She didn’t open it. Instead, she gently traced the patterns on the lid with her fingers.
Xuanxi watched her fingers. Those patterns—she felt like she had seen them somewhere before, because the area under her right eye was starting to heat up again.
“The seventh item.” The auctioneer’s voice was louder than before. “Now, for tonight’s grand finale.”
The screen lit up. It was a jade pendant. Ink-green, palm-sized, with worn edges, as if it had been worn close to the body for many years.
Xuanxi froze completely.
The auctioneer’s voice continued. “A jade pendant from the ancient eastern dragon clan.”
She reached out and picked up the jade pendant from the display stand. The light focused on her palm. The pendant was a deep bluish-green, a deep green that had settled over a hundred years.
As the light passed through the jade, intricate patterns emerged faintly inside—like dragon scales, or cloud patterns, layered and diffused.
“After expert appraisal, this pendant is over three hundred years old. The material is azure dragon jade, unique to the Eastern Dragon Domain. This vein ran dry one hundred and twenty years ago. In other words, this might be one of the last pieces of azure dragon jade in existence.”
A slight stir rippled through the ground floor.
The auctioneer’s fingers smoothed over the surface of the pendant. Under the light, the jade emitted a warm, moist luster.
“As many of you may know, the characteristic of azure dragon jade is that when worn close to the body, it can nurture the meridians and slow the dissipation of elemental power.”
“The cultivators of the Eastern Dragon Domain call it ‘nurturing jade.’ The longer it is worn, the stronger the connection between the jade and the wearer.”
She turned the pendant over. The on-screen image flipped simultaneously, magnifying the details on the back and projecting them above the auction stage.
The entire hall fell silent for a moment.
It wasn’t an ordinary inscription. It was a pattern—lines smooth and flowing, curves harmonious. Half was yin, half was yang, interlocking yet separate, like two fish chasing each other tail to mouth.
But only one half of the pattern was carved on the pendant. The other half was empty, with only a shallow indentation, as if something had once been embedded there and was now removed.
“A Yin-Yang diagram.” The auctioneer’s voice was especially clear in the silence. “To be precise, it’s half of a Yin-Yang diagram.”
She held the pendant in her palm, letting the light hit it from different angles. Every stroke of that half-pattern was carved deep and steady, the knife work clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation.
The bottom of the carving was smooth—not from wear, but from being repeatedly rubbed by human fingers, many years, many times. “In other words, this pendant is not complete,” the auctioneer said. “It’s missing its other half.”
Low conversations broke out on the ground floor. Was this half-missing pendant still worth buying?
“A complete Yin-Yang diagram is formed by two jade pendants, one yin and one yang, combined. This one is the ‘yin’ side.”
“As for the ‘yang’ half—based on the direction and depth of the carving—it should be a pendant of perfectly symmetrical shape and corresponding texture. When the two are put together, they form a complete circle.”
She paused.
“But when Myriad Merchants received this pendant, only this half was present.
“There are no records, no rumors, and no clues regarding the whereabouts of the other half.”
On the second floor, Xuanxi sat on the deep red velvet chair. Her amber-golden eyes were fixed on that half-missing pattern on the screen.
Her hand moved unconsciously to her collar.
Something was hanging there—a piece of jade, bluish-green, the one she had brought from home. It had been around her neck for as long as she could remember.
Her adoptive father had told her that it was on her when she was found. It was supposed to be a token left by her biological mother for identification.
But she had never given it much thought. After all, she had grown up this long without a single clue about her origins. She just treated it as an ordinary protective charm.
She never took it off when she slept, never took it off when she bathed. When she had her school physical, the school doctor even reminded her, “You can’t bring a jade pendant into the attribute testing room.”
Now, she pulled it out from her collar.
The bluish-green jade surface glowed with a warm luster under the VIP section’s warm light—the same luster as the pendant in the auctioneer’s hand below.
She turned the jade over, her fingers tracing the back. There, carved into it, was the other half of the yin-yang fish—the yang side.
Her fingers began to tremble. Hildegrifa noticed her movement and glanced at the object in her hand. The moment her amethyst eyes saw the jade pendant, they contracted sharply.
“Xuanxi—”
“The other half.” Xuanxi’s voice was very soft, so soft it seemed afraid of disturbing something. “It’s here with me.”
She turned the pendant over, letting Hildegrifa see the pattern on the back. Yin and yang, absence and completeness, a century of separation—spanning the chasm of time and space, they finally met each other’s gaze.
Below, the auctioneer’s voice continued.
“Azure dragon jade pendant, Yin side of the Yin-Yang diagram. Starting bid: one hundred thousand gold coins.”
The entire hall was silent for a beat. One hundred thousand gold coins. That price exceeded the total of all the previous items tonight. But the silence lasted only a moment.
“One hundred ten thousand.” The Elder of the Wolf Family raised his paddle.
“One hundred twenty thousand.” The Steel Bristle Family.
“One hundred thirty thousand.” The Ashen Family.
“One hundred fifty thousand.” Valeris’s mother.
The price climbed.
“Two hundred twenty thousand.”
“Two hundred fifty thousand.”
“VIP section, two hundred eighty thousand.”
The bidding sounds on the ground floor rose and fell. Each raised paddle was like a hammer striking Xuanxi’s heart.
She sat on the deep red velvet chair, her fingers gripping the jade pendant beneath her collar, her knuckles white. Her amber-golden eyes stared at the image of the missing half of the yin pendant on the screen.
It was clearly made from the same piece of azure dragon jade as the one under her collar, carved by the same hands.
That missing half-circle—the piece she held could perfectly complete it.
Only one thought filled her mind: that jade pendant must be mine. Something in her blood seemed to be screaming.
The jade seemed to be calling to her. A fate carved three hundred years ago was finally converging in this auction hall.
But now, she didn’t have enough money to buy it. The money she had was barely enough to live on.
Her fingers slipped from her collar and clenched the armrest of her chair. Her breathing quickened. Each new bid pushed her deeper into her seat, like a caged beast trapped inside.
“Three hundred thousand.”
“Three hundred fifty thousand.”
“VIP section, four hundred thousand.”
Four hundred thousand. A number she could never earn in a lifetime.
She turned her head to look at the person beside her. Now, only one person could help her. Hildegrifa was looking down at the floor below, her profile cold and still under the VIP section’s lights.
Her silver-white hair hung over her shoulders, like a silent sculpture. She seemed to sense Xuanxi’s gaze and turned her head slightly.
Their eyes met. Xuanxi opened her mouth, her voice very small, almost too quiet for anyone but the two of them to hear.
“Hilde… can you… help me buy it?”
Hildegrifa’s eyelashes trembled.
“I don’t have any money.” Xuanxi’s voice grew even softer, carrying a vulnerability she had never shown in front of anyone else. “But I have a feeling… I really… need it.”
Hildegrifa looked at her, silent for a moment, then spoke with a hint of playfulness. “Then what conditions can you offer, my Princess?”
The question was so direct that Xuanxi froze. She stared at Hildegrifa’s face, trying to read the meaning behind those amethyst eyes—was this serious, or was she just teasing?
But Hildegrifa’s expression was flawless. There was no change in her face. However, Xuanxi noticed that the tips of her ears were a little red.
In that instant, countless thoughts flashed through Xuanxi’s mind. Her lecture notes, her golden eyes, her current state of having nothing, all the favors she owed Hildegrifa.
What could she possibly offer? She had nothing to her name right now.
No, wait. There was one thing…
So, she forced herself to lower her head, but her face blushed involuntarily. Silence stretched between them.
Below, another bid was called out. Xuanxi didn’t hear the amount. Her heart was beating too fast—so fast that even Hildegrifa could hear it.
Xuanxi did something she never expected. She leaned gently to the side, closer to Hildegrifa, and placed an extremely light, extremely quick kiss on her cheek.