Because pressure wasn't just numbers.
It was *time.*
Inside the link,
her voice slipped out again.
*If I push again…*
A pause.
*She'll follow.*
Another pause.
*But not cleanly.*
Little White's reply came slowly.
"…Mm."
The fox's tail flicked once.
*And if she breaks?*
A beat.
*Then I win for less.*
Silence.
Then the lizard gave a quiet, almost amused exhale.
*You're gambling.*
The fox's smile sharpened.
*No.*
A pause.
*I'm measuring greed.*
Below,
the auctioneer's voice rose again.
"Sixteen thousand…"
"Going once."
The fox still didn't move.
Shen Tu looked like he might collapse.
"My Lady…"
"…please tell me you're not—"
She ignored him.
Her eyes never left Suite Nine.
"Going twice—"
And then,
she moved.
A single, precise press.
"Seventeen thousand."
The hall broke again.
Not loudly,
but decisively.
Because that wasn't escalation anymore.
That was *insistence.*
The auctioneer's voice sharpened with it.
"Seventeen thousand from Middle Tier Seven!"
Now,
all eyes turned back,
waiting.
For the answer.
For the limit.
For the moment one of them would finally stop.
Suite Nine fell silent again.
Longer this time.
Long enough for doubt to creep into the edges of the room.
The fox didn't blink.
Didn't breathe differently.
Just watched.
Because now,
this wasn't about pushing further.
It was about whether Meihu could afford,
not in wealth,
but in pride,
to lose.
And that answer
was worth far more than the core itself.
The silence stretched,
longer than before.
Not empty,
but heavy.
Seventeen thousand sat in the air like a weight pressing on every chest in the hall.
No one moved.
No one dared.
Because now,
this wasn't about wealth anymore.
It was about *face.*
The auctioneer didn't speak.
Didn't rush.
She simply watched Suite Nine,
like everyone else.
Waiting.
The fox remained still.
Perfectly still.
But inside,
she was counting.
*One…*
*Two…*
*Three…*
Every second that passed
tightened the noose.
Because the longer Meihu waited,
the more it *looked* like hesitation.
And hesitation
was weakness.
Beside her,
Little White had completely stopped drinking now.
The jar hovered loosely in the air.
Golden eyes fixed forward.
*This is it,* his silence seemed to say.
Below,
a faint shift.
Then—
"…Eighteen thousand."
Meihu.
The voice came softer this time.
Still controlled.
Still smooth.
But no longer effortless.
There it was.
The fox's pupils narrowed to slits.
*You followed.*
Her lips curved slowly,
not wide,
but sharp.
Because that answer told her everything.
Meihu couldn't step back.
Not now.
Not after everything.
The auctioneer reacted instantly.
"Eighteen thousand from Suite Nine!"
Her tone lifted,
energy returning to the hall.
"Do I hear eighteen five?"
But no one else spoke.
Of course they didn't.
They had been left behind long ago.
Now,
this was the final stretch.
Shen Tu looked like he might faint.
"My Lady…"
"…please…"
His voice cracked.
"…this is enough…"
The fox didn't even glance at him.
Her focus was absolute.
Locked.
Because now,
she had to decide.
Push again
and risk everything,
or stop
and let Meihu bear the cost.
Her paw hovered above the jade slate.
Just above.
Not touching.
Her thoughts ran cold.
The smile came first.
Slow.
Then wider,
until it showed teeth.
Not excitement.
Not madness.
Certainty.
Because in her mind,
this wasn't a loss.
Not even a risk.
It was leverage.
And leverage
was something she knew exactly how to use.
Her paw lowered.
No hesitation.
No pause.
A clean pulse of light surged through the jade slate.
"Twenty thousand."
The number didn't echo.
It landed.
Heavy.
Final.
And for the first time since the lot began,
the entire hall reacted.
A sharp, uncontrolled ripple spread through every tier.
Not whispers.
Not murmurs.
Just that instinctive shift
when something crosses into the absurd.
Shen Tu froze completely.
Not even breathing now.
"…Twenty…"
His voice failed him.
Below,
even the auctioneer's composure flickered.
Just slightly,
but enough.
Because that number
wasn't normal.
Not for this.
Not even close.
Her smile returned quickly,
but now it carried something else.
Tension.
"Twenty thousand from Middle Tier Seven!"
Her voice rang clear,
but sharper than before.
"Do I hear twenty-one?"
Silence answered her.
Not hesitation.
Shock.
All eyes turned,
not just to Suite Nine,
but back to the fox.
Because now,
this wasn't a contest.
This was a statement.
The fox leaned back slowly,
composed,
untouched,
as if she had spent nothing at all.
Inside,
her thoughts were calm.
Precise.
*You can't follow that cleanly.*
A beat.
*If you do…*
Her smile deepened.
*You break your own rhythm.*
Across the hall,
Suite Nine went completely still.
No movement.
No immediate answer.
And that
was the loudest response yet.
Seconds stretched.
Longer than before.
Heavier.
Because now,
everyone understood what was being asked.
Not *can you pay.*
*Will you?*
The fox watched,
unblinking,
waiting.
Not for the bid,
but for the decision behind it.
Beside her,
Little White finally moved again.
Not to drink.
Just a slight shift,
as if settling in to watch the end.
The auctioneer lifted her hand slowly.
Carefully.
"Twenty thousand…"
A pause.
"Going once—"
Still nothing.
Suite Nine remained silent.
And now,
that silence was no longer controlled.
It was strained.
The fox's tail stilled completely.
Because she knew.
She had pushed it
right to the edge.
"Going twice—"
The air tightened,
waiting
for one last answer.
For pride.
For defiance.
For collapse.
And in that final breath before the hammer fell,
everything hung on whether Meihu
would pay the price of not losing.
The moment stretched,
thin as a thread pulled to breaking.
"Going twice—"
The auctioneer's voice hovered,
poised,
waiting,
inviting interruption.
Every eye in the hall burned toward Suite Nine.
Because this
was the last chance.
To answer.
To refuse.
To *choose.*
The fox didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even breathe differently.
Because now,
there was nothing left to do.
She had already made her move.
Now,
she collected the result.
Seconds passed.
One.
Two.
Three.
Too long.
Far too long.
And that
was the answer.
The auctioneer's hand fell.
"Sold."
The word rang clean,
sharp,
final.
"Twenty thousand mid-grade spirit stones."
"Middle Tier Seven."
The sealed box vanished from the pedestal,
drawn into the formation for delivery.
And just like that,
it was over.
But the hall didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Because everyone understood
what had just happened.
Not just a purchase.
Not just a win.
A line had been drawn.
The fox leaned back slowly,
relaxed,
satisfied,
as if nothing of importance had occurred.
But her eyes,
her eyes gleamed.
Because she had felt it.
That hesitation.
That pause.
That limit.
Suite Nine remained silent.
Completely.
No retaliation.
No follow-up.
Just stillness behind the curtain.
And that silence
said more than any bid could have.
Beside her,
Shen Tu finally exhaled.
A shaky,
unsteady sound.
"My Lady…"
"…you actually…"
He didn't finish.
Because there was nothing to say.
Little White's voice slipped into the link,
low.
"…You paid."
The fox's ears flicked once.
Her answer came smooth.
"I invested."
A beat.
Then her gaze drifted lazily toward Suite Nine.
"…and learned."
Her tail swayed once behind her,
slow,
measured.
*She has a ceiling.*
*She hesitates under pressure.*
*And most importantly…*
Her smile returned,
small,
sharp.
*She can be forced to choose.*
Below,
the auctioneer was already moving on,
her voice steady again,
professional.
"Lot Twelve—"
But the energy in the room had changed.
Subtly.
Permanently.
Because now,
everyone knew.
Middle Tier Seven
was no longer just another bidder.
And somewhere behind those bone-white curtains,
Meihu knew it too.