14: Chapter 14 Turtle Breathing Exercise

"Three hundred and twenty taels!"

"I bid three hundred and fifty taels!"

"The Axe Gang bids four hundred taels!"

"Iron Sand Gate, four hundred and thirty taels!"

The frenzied bidding rose and fell, each number like a sharp blade repeatedly stabbing into Chen Mo's heart. He felt like a joke, an ignorant country boy who dared to dream of buying imperial treasures with a few copper coins.

The wooden mask on his face perfectly concealed his deathly pale complexion and the despair in his eyes.

He slowly unclenched his fists, his palms drenched in cold sweat.

A massive sense of loss and powerlessness swallowed him whole.

He didn't even look to see who finally secured the Surging Waves Art for an astronomical price he couldn't even fathom—five hundred and eighty taels.

None of this had anything to do with him anymore.

He only felt waves of pain in his chest.

It wasn't just the pain of shattered hope, but also the physical sting of wasting ten taels of silver on the entrance fee.

Ten taels of silver!

That was enough to buy ten sets of Bone Strengthening Soup, enough for him to eat his fill for over half a year!

Just like that, it had gone down the drain.

He laughed self-mockingly, feeling he was foolish to the extreme.

The surrounding clamor seemed to drift away from him. He slowly stood up, preparing to leave this place that had given him a full taste of both hope and despair.

Staying even a second longer was torture.

However, just as he turned to step away, the auctioneer's voice rang out again from the stage, carrying a tone that even he seemed to find lacking in confidence.

"Uh... everyone, please wait! Tonight's auction actually... has one last item."

These sudden words caused many who were also disappointed and preparing to leave to stop in their tracks, looking back in confusion.

A maidservant brought out another tray, but this time, the tray held only a small, unremarkable scroll. It looked like a random notebook written by some scholar, forming a sharp contrast with the majestic Surging Waves Art from moments ago.

The heated atmosphere in the hall cooled down instantly.

Expressions of impatience appeared on many faces.

The auctioneer was also a bit embarrassed. He coughed twice and picked up the scroll to show the crowd.

"This... is also an Internal Skill Mind-Cultivation Technique, named the Turtle Breathing Longevity Art."

Upon hearing the words "Longevity Art," the audience immediately erupted into unabashed boos and sneers.

"What's this? You're auctioning off a longevity art?"

"I thought there was some treasure, but it's just something for old men to practice!"

"What a waste of time!"

The auctioneer's expression became even more awkward as he hurriedly explained, "Everyone, please calm down! Although the name of this Cultivation Technique sounds... not very formidable, it is indeed a genuine Internal Skill Mind-Cultivation Technique! It's just... it's just..."

He seemed to be weighing his words.

"It's just that Cultivating this art is extremely slow; ten years might not even produce a trace of Qi sensation. Furthermore, it has almost no combat effectiveness and cannot make your True Qi overbearing and sharp like the Surging Waves Art."

"Then what's the use of practicing it?" someone in the audience shouted impatiently.

The auctioneer steeled himself and stated the only advantage of this technique.

"Its... its only benefit is that it can strengthen the body and regulate the internal organs. If one can persevere in Cultivating it, it's said... perhaps... it can prolong one's life."

"Tch—"

At this, the laughter grew even louder.

Prolonging life? For these martial artists and outlaws who lived by the blade and pursued great power, this was the least attractive phrase possible. What they wanted was power that showed results today, the strength where the hardest fist made the rules, not some vague "living a few years longer."

Many people shook their heads and stood up to leave, not even interested in giving it a second glance.

The entire venue instantly lost nearly a third of its occupants.

However, amidst the noisy sneering and the chaos of people leaving, Chen Mo, who was just about to depart, suddenly froze in his tracks as if struck by a bolt of lightning!

His body went stiff, unmoving.

Prolonging life!

It can... prolong life!

These four words were like a key that instantly unlocked the deepest lock in his mind!

His Golden Finger—the Attribute Panel!

Its core logic was that an increase in lifespan converted into potential points! The higher the potential points, the faster the Cultivation speed!

Cultivate longevity techniques → lifespan increases → potential points increase → speed of Cultivating all techniques (including the longevity technique itself) increases → lifespan increases faster...

This was a perfect, infinite positive feedback loop!

This Turtle Breathing Longevity Art, which everyone else treated like trash and saw as worthless, was in his eyes a supreme divine technique tailor-made for him!

Slow progress? With potential points, even the slowest technique could be accelerated to flying speeds!

No combat ability? As long as it could increase his lifespan and bring in massive potential points, he could then Cultivate other martial arts at a lightning-fast pace!

At this moment, Chen Mo's breathing suddenly became rapid!

The eyes beneath his wooden mask erupted with an unprecedented light, staring fixedly and greedily at the unremarkable scroll on the stage.

The disdain and contempt of those around him now sounded like the most beautiful celestial music!

Yes! That's it! It's better if none of you want it! All of you leave! Leave!

His heart was roaring.

On stage, the auctioneer looked at the thinning crowd with a face full of helplessness. He just wanted to get rid of this hot potato quickly.

"Ahem, although this technique is obscure, it is after all a complete Internal Skill Mind-Cultivation Technique. Perhaps some friend who enjoys researching unorthodox subjects would be interested."

He looked around and announced the price listlessly.

"Starting price... one hundred taels of silver!"

One hundred taels of silver!

This number was like a bucket of ice water poured over the heads of the crowd who were just noisy and mocking.

The sneers on their faces froze, replaced by utter shock and incomprehension.

One hundred taels? To buy a longevity art that might not even work? Is this person crazy, or do they have too much money with nowhere to spend it?

The remaining dozens of people in the venue all snapped their gazes toward the source of the voice—the thin figure who had been huddled in the corner from the start, wearing the most ordinary wooden mask.

The moment Chen Mo shouted the price, his heart leapt into his throat.

He was afraid—afraid that there might be a second person who recognized its value like he did, or some wealthy merchant who wanted to buy it for fun on a whim. He had to show a bit of "must-have" determination, even if that determination was only worth five taels of silver.

"One hundred and five taels!"