The attendant's hand trembled—just slightly.
He hesitated for another breath, then sighed through clenched teeth, the fight draining from his posture.
"…Fine."
He withdrew his hand and placed **one final spirit stone** on the counter. It clicked softly as it joined the other two.
"Take it," he said tightly. "And leave. Consider this the Pavilion's goodwill."
The pressure vanished.
Completely.
The fox's aura snapped shut as if it had never existed. Its ears relaxed, tails swaying lazily as it scooped up the last stone.
"See?" the fox said lightly. "That wasn't so hard."
It turned, already walking away, then paused just long enough to glance back over its shoulder.
"And for the record," it added casually, "this *was* me being polite."
The attendant didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Only after the fox disappeared into the flow of the Night Market did he finally exhale, shoulders slumping as if he'd been holding his breath the entire time.
Unseen, perched atop the fox's head, the **lizard remained invisible**, perfectly still—coiled, alert, listening—until the very last second.
Once they were swallowed by the crowd, the fox's pace didn't slow.
Only then did it murmur softly, without moving its mouth:
"Alright. We're clear."
The Night Market buzzed around them—lanterns glowing, voices overlapping, bargains struck in hurried whispers—utterly unaware of how close something sharp had brushed past.
The fox moved with the crowd, seamless and unremarkable. Its voice dropped to a near-soundless murmur, meant for only one presence.
"…You can turn invisible now?"
There was no verbal reply.
A faint ripple of air brushed past the fox's ears—then nothing.
At the same moment, the fox's **illusion unraveled**, dispersing like mist touched by sunlight. Its true form faded as well, body slipping cleanly into invisibility. To the Night Market, it was as if nothing had ever been there.
Yet footsteps still moved.
Unseen, the fox wove effortlessly through cultivators, merchants, and wandering beasts. The lizard perched lightly atop its head, equally invisible, wings tucked close, senses stretched outward.
"Alright," the fox murmured as they walked. "That's done."
Its tone sharpened slightly, excitement threading through restraint.
"Now we go back to the auction house."
A pause.
"To take back what's ours."
They passed lantern-lit streets, crossed crowded intersections, and slipped between patrol formations without drawing a single glance. Minutes later, the noise shifted—voices growing louder, qi fluctuations denser, the air buzzing with restrained greed and anticipation.
They had arrived.
Ahead stood the familiar structure—grand and imposing, its architecture etched with runes meant to deter fools and troublemakers alike.
**Heavenweight Exchange Pavilion.**
The fox stopped just short of the entrance, invisible gaze lifting to take it in.
"Same place," it said quietly. "Different outcome."
The lizard remained silent, but its presence tightened—focused, ready.
Together, unseen and prepared, they stepped forward and slipped inside.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the fox slowed.
"Now," it murmured. "Drop the invisibility."
A soft disturbance rippled through the air.
The lizard complied—its concealment dissolving cleanly, presence settling back into the world as if it had never left. Perched calmly, blind golden eyes half-lidded, it remained perfectly still.
At the same time, the fox's qi shifted.
An **illusion unfolded**—smooth, practiced, flawless.
Where the fox stood, a **young boy** appeared once more, no older than fifteen, dressed in simple yet refined robes. His aura rested carefully at the **Fourth Layer of Foundation Establishment**—controlled, unremarkable, safe.
Exactly as before.
They hadn't taken three steps inside before space itself seemed to fold.
A figure appeared in front of them without warning.
Not the ghost-faced woman from before.
This attendant was an ordinary-looking man—clean robes, sharp eyes, cultivation concealed but unmistakably solid. His presence was polite, professional… and alert.
He bowed slightly, neither shallow nor deep.
"Welcome to the **Heavenweight Exchange Pavilion**," he said smoothly. "How may I assist the guest?"
The illusion-boy tilted his head just enough to seem curious rather than wary.
"We're here on business," the fox replied through the disguise, voice calm and youthful. "Specifically… unfinished business."
The attendant's eyes flicked—briefly, almost imperceptibly—over the boy, then returned to his face. His expression didn't change, but something sharpened behind his gaze.
"May I ask," he continued evenly, "whether the guest has an appointment, or if this concerns a previous transaction?"
The fox smiled faintly.
"It concerns something that already belongs to me."
The air grew subtly heavier—not hostile, not yet—but attentive.
Somewhere deeper within the Pavilion, formations hummed… as if listening.
The fox didn't look directly at the attendant.
Instead, it sent a **quiet voice transmission** upward, casual and light.
*I'll check something.*
The lizard remained motionless, blind gaze unfocused, posture shifting just enough to acknowledge.
Then the fox spoke aloud, still wearing the boy's face.
"Same code as last time."
The attendant's eyes changed.
Not widened. Not narrowed.
They **recognized**.
A subtle ripple passed through the air—so faint only a trained cultivator would notice. The man straightened, his tone adjusting by half a degree.
"So the guest knows the way," he said calmly.
He turned and gestured with an open palm.
"Please, follow me."
No questions.
No delay.
The fox stepped forward, keeping a respectful distance as it followed. The illusion held steady, footsteps light. As they moved deeper into the Pavilion, the surrounding noise softened, layers of space folding subtly as they passed through corridors that **did not exist for ordinary guests**.
Inside its mind, the fox smiled.
*They're holding one today too.*
A flicker of satisfaction followed.
*Jackpot. Couldn't have timed this better.*
Good.
Very good.
The deeper they went, the more the Pavilion's true weight revealed itself—formations humming beneath the floor, seals embedded in the walls, hidden observers who never showed their faces.
The attendant led them onward without a word.
And somewhere ahead—
Another auction awaited.