Chapter 50: Black Market Auction

Nine Clouds Pavilion lay in Clouds and Waters Parted, belonging to White Jade Capital.

It was divided into the regular market and the black market—the former in the clouds, the latter in the water, never overlapping.

The regular market resembled any ordinary bazaar, but the black market was the true grand event of Nine Clouds Pavilion. Rare treasures abounded, and even stolen goods could be fenced here. Once one donned a Nine Clouds Pavilion mask, origins mattered not; all were merely guests of Nine Clouds Pavilion. But to say no one knew anything was impossible—Nine Clouds Pavilion was a Dao treasure of White Jade Capital, and with White Jade Capital’s Hidden Dragon Division gathering intelligence, the black market’s secrets inevitably fell into the hands of the White Jade Capital Daoist.

The black market was special, unlike the regular one. It opened only on the nights of the first and fifteenth of every lunar month.

Zhan Yujie piloted the cloud boat, arriving just as the fifteenth night descended.

Clouds churned, the azure sky painted blood-red by fiery sunset hues. The majestic boat-palace towered in the clouds like a mirage from a sea of illusions, revealing only a glimpse. Only when the great sun sank behind the western mountains did a thunderous boom echo, and the cloudborne painted boat slowly emerged from the layers, exposing its painted hull to all eyes.

Yan Zhichuan craned her neck from the flying boat. During the journey, with no tasks assigned, she had skipped cultivation and spent the prime time daydreaming. Now, her energy brimmed. In the instant the sun fully sank, a howl rose like the roar of myriad valleys, blending into a cacophony of sounds. Then, from Nine Clouds Pavilion billowed millions of colorful smoke trails, short and long rays of light clustering amid them, from which countless exotic beasts burst forth. Vivid and lifelike, they flew down from Nine Clouds Pavilion, scattering in all directions.

Yan Zhichuan reached out toward a nearby deer, but instead of soft fur, her fingers met a cool deer-antler mask. She turned to Zhan Yujie, whose fingertip now held a ferocious beast mask. Zhan Yujie clapped it over her face, and her cool voice sounded in Yan Zhichuan’s ear: “The market’s opening. Put on the mask.”

Yan Zhichuan said “Oh” and covered her face with hers.

On the way, Zhan Yujie had explained their simple goal: auction the refined Foundation Establishment Pills to see if they could draw out that Miracle Hand Sect Daoist obsessed with researching them. Nine Abyss and White Jade Capital’s sect master had coordinated; White Jade Capital agreed to help, so news of the black market auctioning Foundation Establishment Pills had already spread.

Moonlight danced on rippling waters, and Nine Clouds Pavilion hung red lanterns, illuminating the wilds like daylight.

It was Yan Zhichuan’s first time in such a place. Stepping into Nine Clouds Pavilion, she was immediately drawn to the lantern-lit pavilions and shops on all sides, a dazzling array she couldn’t take in.

“It’s not like being on a boat at all—it’s no different from Immortal City,” Yan Zhichuan said.

Zhan Yujie hummed in agreement. “Nine Clouds Pavilion is a Dao treasure.”

Yan Zhichuan: “!” White Jade Capital is that rich?

Inside Nine Clouds Pavilion, the black market shops differed little from the regular market’s—just that the usually closed ones now flew banners, while the open regular ones swapped signs, silently hinting that rare goods unseen in the regular market were now on display.

Yan Zhichuan was curious about everything, but she had no Pill Jade on her this trip—all was in Zhan Yujie’s hands. Her reluctant gaze lingered before she lifted her eyes to the tallest tower in Nine Clouds Pavilion. As the clock tolled, the tower erupted in a myriad rays of rosy light, blindingly intense, enveloping the entire pavilion. Not just Yan Zhichuan—even Zhan Yujie found it dazzling when staring directly.

Zhan Yujie turned, gazing at Yan Zhichuan, and murmured, “Don’t stare at it.”

Yan Zhichuan: “…” Too late; her eyes nearly burned out. “Where do we auction?” Shops lined the streets, Daoists crowding every door. But before Zhan Yujie could answer, Yan Zhichuan had it. As the tower’s glow faded, the Daoists around the shops dispersed en masse—some sword-flying, others in ornate carriages—swarming toward the tower.

“To Nine Clouds Tower,” Zhan Yujie said. It was Nine Clouds Pavilion’s largest auction house, but entry cost ten thousand Pill Jade. Fortunately, they were on sect business; no need to pay from their own pockets.

Nine Clouds Tower’s center held a pool, with a round platform in the middle and no seats around. Yan Zhichuan followed Zhan Yujie inside, where attendants led them to an upstairs private booth. Each booth spanned several zhang in length and width, with one door and one window, yet not dim inside. Night-luminescent pearls studded the walls, and screens, incense burners, vases, and qin stands furnished it elegantly and brightly.

A attendant stood in the booth. Yan Zhichuan couldn’t discern her cultivation—likely Nascent Soul level. She inwardly clicked her tongue; Nine Clouds Tower’s extravagance was immense. One Nascent Soul True Person per booth? White Jade Capital’s power must be overwhelming.

“That’s a Puppet Man,” the Heavenly Dao System said, hearing Yan Zhichuan’s thoughts, and patted her with fluffy wings. These puppets were crafted for service; in real combat, their strength might not match a Golden Core sword cultivator’s—at least, not Zhan Yujie’s.

While Yan Zhichuan pondered the Puppet Man, Zhan Yujie calmly instructed the attendant and handed over a contract.

The Puppet Man’s expression remained neutral as it saluted Zhan Yujie, then left the booth. Less than the time it took to burn a joss stick later, a shorter, masked Daoist appeared.

Yan Zhichuan eyed them suspiciously, finding something familiar. Before she could speak, Zhan Yujie chuckled lightly, saluted, and said mildly, “Sui Daoist.”

It was Sui Heng.

Yan Zhichuan realized it then—the slightly shorter White Jade Capital Daoist from their Three Ways River encounter.

Sui Heng returned the salute, wasting no words. “The Foundation Establishment Pill?”

Zhan Yujie nudged Yan Zhichuan, who was craning her neck like a spectator.

Yan Zhichuan said “Oh” and produced a bottle of Foundation Establishment Pills. The Dao Pills she refined were still lumpy and unappealing; auctioning them raw would fool no one into believing they were Foundation Establishment Pills, so she had settled for top-grade spirit pills instead.

Sui Heng took the Foundation Establishment Pills and said, “Per Nine Clouds Pavilion rules, they go to the highest bidder. We might not catch that person.” As Hidden Dragon Division of White Jade Capital, she shouldn’t meddle in Nine Clouds Pavilion affairs, but Yingzhou Island matters had her master’s orders. White Jade Capital wouldn’t interfere with regular or black market operations—unless Demon Cultivators were involved, demanding new rules.

“No matter,” Zhan Yujie smiled faintly. “Just testing the waters.”

Reassured, Sui Heng nodded and withdrew as the Daoists on the round platform below began calling bids.

Foundation Establishment Pills were external aids; for truly talented Daoists, they held little use. Failing Foundation Establishment meant no Cave Heaven ascent—a joke. But exceptional talents were rare; most lingered in low realms. With limited lifespan, they couldn’t waste years on Foundation Establishment. They sought not immortality, but centuries of carefree living—and Foundation Establishment Pills were their dream treasures.

Halfway through the auction, when the Foundation Establishment Pills appeared, bidding grew feverish.

Yan Zhichuan’s eyes widened. Those affluent enough to come here, even splurging on treasures, weren’t stuck at Foundation Establishment. Why buy pills?

“Others might not need them, but everyone has kin and friends,” Zhan Yujie said, reading Yan Zhichuan’s face effortlessly. She paused, then added, “More bidders aren’t bad, right? Higher price.”

Yan Zhichuan stared blankly. She wanted Pill Jade, sure—but—

“The more bidders, the harder to investigate, no?”

Too many suspects.

Best if the Miracle Hand Sect Daoist showed directly, but if her, she’d surely use a proxy. If Yan Zhichuan thought of it, wouldn’t the Miracle Hand Sect Daoist? If absent… checking a horde only to find innocents would be futile drudgery, disheartening even the lazy.

Yan Zhichuan slumped, shuffling to Zhan Yujie and hugging her arm pitifully. “Senior Sister, let’s just storm Miracle Hand Sect?”

The Heavenly Dao System could scan; all Demon Cultivators would be exposed.

Zhan Yujie: “?”

Yan Zhichuan: “I have a way to spot Demon Cultivators.”

Zhan Yujie rubbed her forehead. “Miracle Hand Sect True Persons aren’t ones we can just demand to see all of. Ask Jie Tianxuan if she’s met every sect True Person—some live reclusively, unseen even by fellow sect members.”

Yan Zhichuan blinked, enlightened. “Senior Sister means the recluses are prime suspects?”

Zhan Yujie pressed her lips.

She hadn’t said that!

Gazing down at the arm Yan Zhichuan clung to, Zhan Yujie tried pulling away, but her junior sister was oblivious—not loosening, but lazily draping herself fully.

Yan Zhichuan muttered, “Too much hassle.” She pondered, then said, “Demon Cultivators have time to stir trouble in Xuanmen? Sky Nether City must be too quiet. Have White Jade Capital’s infiltrators stir things up for them.”

The Puppet Man glanced at Yan Zhichuan, its expressionless face suddenly lively.

Zhan Yujie ignored her.

But Yan Zhichuan chattered on undeterred.

“Why do Demon Cultivators always infiltrate Xuanmen? Aren’t Xuanmen Daoists useless?”

Zhan Yujie fell silent.

She wanted to agree with Yan Zhichuan’s logic but feared her gloating and further slandering Xuanmen Daoists. “Demon Cultivators use any means.”

Yan Zhichuan frowned thoughtfully. “To succeed, must one resort to any means?”

Zhan Yujie saw black spots. She endured, then yanked her hand free, flicking Yan Zhichuan’s forehead. “Junior Sister, True Persons handle those matters. No need to worry your head.”

Better she not think at all.

As they spoke, the lively bidding below ceased. Moments later, bids resumed.

After three calls, the deal sealed with resonant chimes.

Yan Zhichuan clutched her forehead with a whine, not blaming Zhan Yujie but asking in a half-dead tone: “And then?”

Zhan Yujie: “Sui Daoist will send the bidder list.”

Nine Clouds Pavilion was a Dao treasure; its masks, concealing faces and auras, extended its Dao power.

As White Jade Capital’s Dao treasure, its spirit heeded White Jade Capital commands to an extent.

Sui Heng soon delivered the list to Zhan Yujie, complete with Hidden Dragon Division backgrounds.

“No Miracle Hand Sect cultivators showed,” Zhan Yujie frowned, though unsurprised—still disappointing.

She scanned the intel. The buyer was a Golden Core merchant, formerly Chongxuan Sect disciple. After Nascent Soul, realizing no further progress, he left to manage family business—but ties to Chongxuan Sect remained; talented descendants still trained there.

Sui Heng said, “His motive for the Foundation Establishment Pill is solid, reason legitimate.”

Zhan Yujie replied mildly, “Perfect cover.”

Yan Zhichuan’s eyes gleamed. “I have an idea.”

Zhan Yujie’s eyelid twitched. Too late to stop—

Yan Zhichuan: “Let’s rob him.”

Zhan Yujie: “.”