The three days leading up to the Mitel Auction were a blur of intense focus and quiet determination. The sprawling pavilion became a sealed crucible where we honed our fledgling abilities, the outside world and its looming protagonist forgotten in our singular pursuit of power.
My world shrank to the space between myself and the Seven-Phantom Valeflora leaf. My mornings were a ritual of deep meditation and delicate practice. The "Soul-Guiding Hand" became an extension of my own senses. On the first day, my control was clumsy, the thread of spiritual energy I could draw from the leaf was thick and wavered like a candle flame in a breeze. By the second day, the thread was finer, steadier. By the third morning, I achieved a breakthrough.
Sitting in the stillness of the hall, I extended my will. A single, shimmering green tendril, as thin as a strand of silk, rose from the surface of the leaf. It coiled in the air before me, holding its shape, responding to my slightest mental nudge. I could feel the texture of its energy, the ancient, placid life force within it. It was no longer just a tool for practice; it was becoming a part of my own spiritual vocabulary. The mental strain was immense, leaving me slick with sweat and my head throbbing after only a few minutes, but the rewards were tangible.
[Soul-Guiding Hand Mastery: 4%]
[Your fine control over Dou Qi and spiritual energy has deepened your understanding of your templates.]
[Synchronization with [Taigong Wang] has increased to 2.15%]
[Synchronization with [Tang Sanzang] has increased to 1.98%]
My progress was a slow, steady crawl, but it felt real, earned. The alchemist's journal also revealed a secondary application of the technique. By circulating my Dou Qi in a slightly different manner, I could use the "Soul-Guiding Hand" to scan objects for residual spiritual imprints. I spent an afternoon wandering the pavilion, touching various items. On the heavy oak desk in my 'father's' study, I could feel a faint, lingering trace of his presence—an aura of immense power, sharp like medicinal herbs and steady as a mountain. It was a sobering reminder of the powerful figure whose identity I was borrowing.
Ming's training was far more volatile. He had moved on from simply maintaining his Infinity to actively trying to harness the offensive aspect of his power. The courtyard became his laboratory, and I was often forced to retreat into the main hall as the air around him would begin to warp and shimmer with terrifying instability.
On the final afternoon before the auction, he attempted his most ambitious feat yet. He stood in the center of the yard, hands outstretched, his entire focus bent on a single point in space before him. He was trying to create a true singularity, a vortex of attraction.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the world seemed to lurch. A low, guttural thrum filled the air. It wasn't a sound, but a vibration that resonated deep in my bones. Dust and leaves on the ground were yanked from the earth, swirling violently into a single point. A heavy, decorative stone statue weighing several hundred pounds was lifted from its pedestal, groaning in protest as it was dragged through the air towards Ming's hand.
His eyes, though covered, must have widened in alarm. The statue was accelerating, threatening to crush the very hand that was calling it forth. In a split second, his other hand shot up, reinforcing the passive Infinity around his body. The statue slammed into the invisible barrier with a sickening CRUNCH, shattering into a thousand pieces that fell harmlessly to the ground.
The vortex collapsed instantly. The air returned to normal. Ming stood there, breathing heavily, his shoulders slumped.
"Well," he said, his voice strained. "The good news is, I can make a miniature black hole. The bad news is, I have absolutely no idea how to turn it off without almost breaking my own arm."
He walked back into the hall, shaking his head in frustration. "I'm missing something. A key principle. Gojo didn't just have power; he had a perfect understanding of it. I'm just a kid throwing around celestial dynamite."
A system window, visible only to him, told a different story.
[Attempting to use [Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue]... Critical Failure!]
[Catastrophic energy imbalance detected. Vessel integrity momentarily compromised.]
[However, understanding of the Limitless has deepened through the analysis of failure. [Gojo Satoru] Sync Rate +0.1%]
[Current Sync Rate: 3.2%]
Even his failures were making him stronger. That, more than anything, told me how terrifying his potential truly was.
The day of the auction arrived, bathed in the warm light of a clear afternoon. A messenger from the Mitel Auction House delivered a heavy pouch containing the proceeds from our preliminary sales. We counted it out on the table. Eight hundred and forty-two gold coins. It was a small fortune for an ordinary citizen of Wu Tan City. For what we were planning, it felt like pocket change.
"It's not much," I said, looking at the meager pile of gold. "Bidding for the Foundation Elixirs will be fierce. We'll be competing with the heads of the three great clans."
"Then we can't play their game," Ming said, leaning back in his chair. "We can't out-muscle them with money. We have to be smarter. Your knowledge is our advantage, Qing-er. We know what's truly valuable and what's just hype. We let them waste their money on flashy junk, and we strike when it matters."
His logic was sound. Our strategy was one of surgical precision, not a brute-force bidding war.
"Now," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face as he looked me up and down. "We have a much more pressing problem. We can't show up to the biggest social event in the city looking like we just crawled out of a training montage. We need to dress the part."
He had a point. I retreated to my chambers, which contained a wardrobe that my alchemist 'father' had prepared for his 'daughter.' It was filled with exquisite dresses, robes, and gowns that I had so far avoided, preferring simpler attire. But today was different. Today, we were making our debut.
I chose a dress of shimmering, silver-white silk. It was elegant and flowing, with delicate embroidery along the sleeves that resembled frost patterns. When I looked in the bronze mirror, I saw a figure of ethereal beauty, a celestial maiden who seemed to have descended from a palace in the moon. The dress, combined with my Yang Guifei template, created an aura that was both stunningly beautiful and coolly unapproachable.
When I emerged, Ming was waiting. He too had changed. He wore a masterfully tailored robe of the deepest black, its fabric seeming to drink the light. The simple garment, devoid of any ostentatious embroidery, only served to accentuate his height, his lean power, and the stark, shocking white of his hair. He looked less like a guest and more like a visiting monarch from some ancient, powerful dynasty.
He turned as I approached, and for the first time, I saw him genuinely stop and stare. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a look of undisguised awe.
"Whoa," he breathed out, the single word hanging in the air. He slowly walked a circle around me, his blindfolded gaze taking in every detail. "Just... wow. Qing-er, I'm starting to think my plan to have you stand on stage if we run out of money isn't even a joke. Someone would probably trade their entire clan for you."
I felt a hot blush creep up my neck, and I quickly changed the subject to hide my fluster. "You don't look so bad yourself, Ming. You almost look respectable."
"Respectable?" He laughed, his confidence returning. "Qing-er, I look like the final boss. Let's go. It's time to make an impression."
The Mitel Auction House was a testament to the power of wealth. The structure was a grand, three-story building of white jade and polished mahogany, its entrance flanked by two imposing Dou Shi guards. The air itself seemed to buzz with power and prestige. Beautiful attendants guided guests inside, their smiles polite but their eyes sharp, assessing the status of every person who entered.
Our invitation granted us special treatment. Instead of being led to the main floor, we were escorted up a private staircase to one of the exclusive VIP rooms overlooking the entire auction hall. It was a spacious, lavishly decorated chamber with plush chairs and a balcony that offered a perfect, unobstructed view of the stage below, all while shielding us from the view of the crowd.
A few minutes after we had settled in, there was a soft knock on our door. The chief auctioneer, Ya Fei, entered with a graceful sway of her hips and a dazzling smile.
"Young Miss Bai, esteemed guest," she greeted us, her voice like honey. "I trust the accommodations are to your liking? I wanted to personally thank you for entrusting us with your items. They are expected to fetch a handsome price tonight."
"You are too kind, Miss Ya Fei," I replied, maintaining my serene, mysterious persona. "We are merely curious to see how a grand event such as this is conducted."
Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, flickered between me and Ming. She was clearly intrigued by us—the reclusive alchemist's stunning daughter and her silent, blindfolded, and terrifyingly imposing companion. We were an enigma, and in a city like Wu Tan City, enigmas were a source of both gossip and opportunity.
"Well, I hope you enjoy the show," she said with a final, charming smile, and then she was gone, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume.
From our vantage point, we could see the entire hall fill up. We spotted the clan leaders taking their seats in the front rows: the portly and shrewd head of the Primer clan, the burly and arrogant leader of the Galeo Clan, and Xiao Zhan, his expression a mixture of hope and anxiety. And there, sitting beside him, looking profoundly bored and uncomfortable in his formal robes, was Xiao Yan.
Seeing him there, a real person in a real crowd, sent a jolt through me. Our plan, which had seemed like a sound strategic decision in the abstract, now felt heavy with consequence. We were about to actively compete with that boy, to potentially take away the very resource he needed to begin his legendary journey.
Ming, as if sensing my hesitation, placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. His touch was warm and steady. "No regrets, Qing-er," he said, his voice low and firm. "Their destiny is not our concern. Our own is."
I nodded, my resolve hardening once more. He was right.
The lights in the hall dimmed, and a single, brilliant spotlight hit the stage. Ya Fei walked into its center, her red dress a splash of vibrant color in the dim light. Her voice, amplified by Dou Qi, filled the hall.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests! Welcome to the Mitel Auction House! Let the bidding... begin!"
The auction started with a flurry of activity. A rare, Xuan-Class Dou Technique scroll was sold for a staggering sum. A high-grade monster core from a Demonic Beast sparked a fierce bidding war between two mercenary captains. We watched, silent and observant, as hundreds, then thousands, of gold coins were thrown around with abandon. Our small pouch of 800 gold felt woefully inadequate.
Finally, after an hour of appetizers, Ya Fei signaled for the main course.
"And now, for our next item!" she announced, her voice ringing with excitement. "An item that all of our aspiring young cultivators have been waiting for! Brought to you by our city's own Alchemist Guild, we have not one, not two, but three vials of Foundation Elixir!"
Three vials were brought out on a silver platter, their faint medicinal glow captivating the crowd. A murmur of excitement went through the hall.
"The uses of this Tier 2 pill are well known!" Ya Fei declared. "It solidifies the foundations and purifies the Dou Qi of any practitioner below the Dou Shi level! Each vial is a stepping stone to a brighter future! We will auction them off one by one. The bidding for the first vial starts at one hundred gold coins!"
"One hundred and twenty!" someone shouted immediately.
"One hundred and fifty!" came another voice.
I saw Xiao Zhan lean forward, his expression tense. "Two hundred!"
The price climbed rapidly. Two hundred and fifty. Three hundred. It was a frenzy. The price for the first vial settled at an astonishing four hundred gold, sold to a wealthy merchant buying it for his son. More than half our total capital, for a single vial.
Xiao Zhan looked distressed. He had clearly underestimated the competition.
The second vial was brought out. The bidding was just as fierce. It finally sold for four hundred and twenty gold coins.
Now, only one vial remained. The last chance. I could see the desperation on Xiao Zhan's face. He needed this for his son.
"And now, the final vial!" Ya Fei announced. "Let's start the bidding at one hundred gold!"
"Two hundred!" Xiao Zhan shouted immediately, trying to intimidate the other bidders.
It didn't work.
"Two hundred and twenty!"
"Two hundred and fifty!"
The price shot past three hundred gold in seconds. This was it. Our one and only chance. I looked at Ming. He gave a single, sharp nod.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest, and pressed the small button on our private console that would register our bid. My voice, calm and clear, was magically projected into the hall.
"Four hundred gold."
A hush fell over the crowd. The bid was not just high; it was a sudden, decisive leap that came from one of the mysterious VIP rooms. All eyes turned towards our darkened balcony.
On the floor, Xiao Zhan slumped in his seat, defeated. He didn't have that much capital left. Xiao Yan looked up towards our room, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of confusion, frustration, and a flicker of something else. A flicker of cold, sharp anger.
We had just made our first move on the chessboard of this world. And in doing so, we had placed ourselves directly in the path of its future king.