Their first night in the House of Whispering Silks was spent in quiet, strategic observation. The next evening, Xue Lian, having sent a gift of rare demonic spirit stones so generous it made even the unflappable Madam Zhelan blink, was granted a private audience. As planned, Lan Yue stood silently behind her, a beautiful, exotic shadow in her cat demon disguise.
"Your generosity is… unprecedented, my lady," Madam Zhelan purred, her sharp eyes appraising Xue Lian with a mix of respect and avarice. "It is clear you are a woman of significant means and… particular tastes." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "For my most discerning clients, there is a special event tonight. The Midnight Pagoda Auction. They are offering truly… unique acquisitions. I believe a collector of your stature would find it most interesting."
Xue Lian feigned a look of mild, aristocratic boredom. "An auction? How quaint. Very well. One must find ways to amuse oneself in these provincial cities."
The Midnight Pagoda was an opulent, secretive establishment hidden deep within a pocket dimension accessible only through a specific portal in the city's heart. The air inside was thick with the cloying scent of rare incense, power, and naked greed. Cultivators, demonic nobles, and shadowy figures from across the realms, all hidden behind enchanted masks that shimmered with defensive arrays, filled the tiered, lavishly decorated hall. It was a den of predators.
Xue Lian, wearing a simple but devastatingly elegant silver mask that did nothing to hide the imperious set of her jaw, moved through the crowd as if she were parting a sea of lesser beings. Lan Yue followed a step behind, her senses on high alert. Her cat ears twitched at the snippets of conversation deals for stolen relics, boasts of spiritual power, hissed bets on the night's lots. Almost immediately, her sharp eyes picked out two figures in a private, upper level booth shrouded in concealing mist. Their auras, though expertly suppressed, were unmistakable: Elder Feng and Wei Chen.
The auction began. The items were rare and illicit a jar containing the still beating heart of a Mountain God, a scroll detailing a forbidden soul splitting technique, a captured Wind Elemental bound in a jade bottle. The bidding was fierce and fast, a whirlwind of shouted numbers and flashing tokens. A burly demon lord from the northern wastes outbid a serene looking but deadly nun from a hidden sect for a cursed blade, the tension between them crackling in the air.
Then, the atmosphere shifted. The main event began.
The first cage was rolled onto the stage with a dramatic rumble. Inside was a young girl, no older than ten, with fiery red gold hair and eyes that burned with a defiant, unbroken pride. A small, elegant tattoo of a phoenix tail was visible on her forehead. Despite the energy suppressing shackles on her wrists and ankles, she stood tall.
"Our first living prize!" the auctioneer, a slick man with a voice enhanced by magic, announced. "A juvenile Fenghuang, a phoenix in human form! Her potential is limitless! A guardian for your lineage, a furnace for your alchemy! We start the bidding at one million gold!"
A roar went up from the crowd. Bids flew like arrows.
"Two million!" shouted a rotund merchant.
"Three!" countered a veiled sorceress.
"Five million gold!" Wei Chen's voice cut through the din, cold and authoritative.
A hush fell. Five million was a serious bid. The auctioneer's eyes gleamed. "I have five million! Do I hear six?"
"Ten million," a new voice drawled. It was Xue Lian, examining her nails as if bored.
A gasp rippled through the hall. Heads turned. Elder Feng, in his booth, leaned forward, his mask doing little to conceal his sudden irritation.
"Eleven million!" Wei Chen snapped.
"Twenty million," Xue Lian countered without looking up. "And five million high grade spirit stones."
The shocked silence was absolute. It was an astronomical, conversation ending bid. Feng's knuckles were white where he gripped the railing. The auctioneer, after a stunned moment, slammed his gavel. "Sold! To the magnificent lady in silver!"
Next, a larger tank of shimmering, enchanted water was brought forth. Inside was a girl of about thirteen, with long, sea green hair, shimmering scales on her arms and shoulders, and the deep, sorrowful eyes of the ocean abyss. A murmur of desire ran through the crowd.
"A pureblooded Jiao Ren a deep sea mermaid! Her tears form pearls of potent water energy! Her song can calm the fiercest storms or shatter the strongest mind! Bidding starts at two million!"
The bidding was again fierce, but more cautious now. The crowd was wary of the woman in silver. Feng and Wei Chen bid again, their offers sharp and aggressive, clearly determined not to lose twice.
"Fifteen million!" Wei Chen called out, a note of finality in his tone.
"Twenty million," Xue Lian's voice was a lazy counterpoint. "And two million spirit stones."
Wei Chen looked to Feng, who gave a sharp, frustrated shake of his head. They were beaten. The gavel fell. "Sold again to the lady in silver!"
As the tank was wheeled away, Xue Lian sent a thought to Lan Yue. A little firebird and a little fish. They're about the right age. I suppose Xue Hua can have some new playmates. It does get lonely in the palace.
Lan Yue was stunned by the sheer, audacious power of it. The horrific reality of this slave auction, and Xue Lian was treating it like a whimsical shopping trip for their daughter.
Finally, the air grew taut with anticipation. The prize of the night was presented. Not led, but she walked onto the stage of her own volition, her chains seeming less like bindings and more like an affront to her dignity. She was ethereally beautiful, with long, sapphire blue hair that fell like a waterfall and noble, dignified features. Two small, crimson horns, like polished coral, curled back from her temples. She moved with an ancient, regal grace that silenced the room. A Qilin. A living embodiment of purity and auspicious fortune. She was, Lan Yue noted with a strange, unwelcome pang, stunningly beautiful and exuded a serene, majestic power that was deeply alluring.
The auctioneer's voice was reverent. "The crown jewel of our collection… a female Qilin in her prime! Her presence blesses the land! Her horn can purify any poison! Her favor can grant a dynasty legitimacy for a thousand years! We begin the bidding at fifty million gold!"
The explosion of bids was instantaneous. It was no longer an auction; it was a war. An ancient demon patriarch from the west threw out a bid of seventy million. A consortium of human merchants from the eastern empires countered with eighty. Wei Chen, his voice tight, shouted, "One hundred million!"
But all eyes were on the silver masked woman. She hadn't moved.
Elder Feng, seeing his chance, leaned over his booth. "One hundred and twenty million!" he roared, his voice echoing with spiritual pressure meant to intimidate.
The demon patriarch, scowling, dropped out. The merchants conferred in frantic whispers.
"One hundred and fifty million," Xue Lian said, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
Feng's face, visible beneath his mask, was a thundercloud. "One hundred and seventy!"
"Two hundred."
The crowd was breathless. This was a duel now, a public humiliation in the making. Feng was desperate; this Qilin was a symbol of righteous power and divine favor, a key to legitimizing his coup.
"Two hundred and twenty million!" Feng screamed, veins bulging on his neck.
Xue Lian finally turned her head, her masked gaze seeming to pin Feng to his spot. She paused, drawing out the moment, letting the entire Pagoda hang on her silence.
"Two hundred and fifty million gold," she said, each word a hammer blow. "And fifty million high grade spirit stones."
It was a sum that could buy a kingdom. A deathly silence fell. All eyes swung to Feng's booth. He stood, trembling with pure, impotent rage. He looked from the sublime Qilin to Xue Lian, his hatred a palpable force. With a soundless snarl of fury, he turned and swept out of the Pagoda, Wei Chen following in his wake. The humiliation was complete.
"SOLD!" the auctioneer bellowed, his voice cracking with excitement. "To the unparalleled lady in silver!"
The auction was over. As the stunned, chattering crowd began to disperse, Xue Lian turned to make arrangements for her three new acquisitions. She glanced at Lan Yue, a triumphant, teasing smile playing on her lips. "Well, that was a productive evening, wouldn't you say, my dear?"
Lan Yue did not answer. Her cat ears were flattened against her head, her tail was lashing in a tight, irritated rhythm behind her. Her jaw was tight, and her cold, silent gaze was fixed not on the defeated Feng, but on the stunningly beautiful, noble, and now very expensive blue haired Qilin woman, whose serene eyes seemed to briefly meet Xue Lian's with a look of curious gratitude.
Xue Lian felt the wave of pure, unadulterated, and deeply satisfying jealousy radiating from her through the bond. Are you pouting, my dear Saint? she sent, her mental voice brimming with unconcealed mischief. She is merely a strategic asset. A symbol.
The only reply was a wave of furious, possessive silence that spoke louder than any bid shouted that night. This wasn't just about strategy anymore.