The next day dawned under a sky as clear as polished jade.
By noon, the imperial capital's main thoroughfares were choked with people.
The Grand Radiance Auction Hall—its towering white jade façade draped in scarlet banners—looked more like the Imperial Palace than a marketplace.
Every street leading to it had been cordoned off by the Empire's Golden Armored Guard, their halberds gleaming in the sunlight.
By the time the sun's first rays struck the golden spire of the Grand Radiance Auction Hall, the wide avenue before it was already packed.
Merchants abandoned their stalls, scholars set aside their scrolls, and even wandering martial artists paused their training to secure a vantage point.
They were not here to bid. Most of them could not even dream of entering.
They were here to look.
To catch a glimpse of the people who would walk through those golden doors.
