507: Chapter 507 I want this hairpin

Magic Treasure classification: Mortal Weapon (Qi Refining), Magical Artifact (Foundation Establishment), Spiritual Artifact (Golden Core/Nascent Soul), Treasure Artifact (Soul Transformation/Body Integration), Dao Artifact (Void Tempering/Undergoing Tribulation), Immortal Artifact (Mahayana).

The auction had been going on for more than half an hour.

"Next item!"

When Mu Qinglan announced the next auction item on stage, two maids stepped forward together, holding a brocade tray.

In the center of the tray lay a fiery red hairpin; the stem was forged from Crimson Flame Essence Gold, and the head was carved into the shape of a Phoenix with folded wings perching on an old plum branch.

Three strands of the Phoenix's tail feathers hung down, curling gracefully along the curve of the stem; each feather was as thin as a cicada's wing, with edges shimmering in golden-red light.

The branch was adorned with two cinnabar-colored jewels the size of rice grains; as the lamplight flickered, the entire hairpin seemed to come alive.

"This is the Phoenix-Perching Crimson Flame Hairpin, a Low Grade Dao Artifact. It is engraved with a 'Flowing Fire Body Protection' inscription. When activated with spiritual power, it can generate a crimson flame barrier capable of withstanding a full-force strike from a Void Tempering Early Stage Cultivator. The starting bid is one hundred million Low-Grade Spirit Stones, with each increment no less than two million."

As soon as she finished speaking,

"One hundred and two million."

In the Earth-1 private box, Sect Master Tu Wanxiong leaned against the back of his chair, turned his head to look at the young man, and said indifferently: "Bid for it for your younger sister; it's her birthday next month."

"Yes, Father."

Tu Taigang responded, his tone carrying a touch of doting for his sister, along with a bit of certainty that they would win it.

The Earth-2 private box followed immediately, a lazy voice drifting out: "One hundred and four million."

The young man with puffy eye bags and a pale complexion who had been behind Zhu Chixiao was half-leaning on the cushions, one hand supporting his chin, a careless smile hanging at the corner of his mouth.

He glanced at the Earth-1 private box and added slowly: "This hairpin is just right for my new concubine. You at Fire Turtle Mountain don't raise any female family members, so why are you bidding for it?"

The Young Lord of Fire Turtle Mountain sneered: "Zhu Yan, do you have nothing better to do? I'm bidding for my sister, and you want to snatch it?"

"Tu Yan, what does it matter if I like it? Your sister is only twelve; using a Dao Artifact hairpin as a birthday gift? Does your Fire Turtle Mountain have too many Spirit Stones, or are you deliberately trying to spoil the little girl?"

"How my Fire Turtle Mountain spends money is not up to someone like you who spends all day soaking in the lap of luxury to criticize."

The two traded taunts across the two private boxes, one sentence after another, while the Cultivators in the general seating area watched with relish.

Mu Qinglan stood on stage without rushing them; instead, she stepped back half a step, waiting composedly for them to finish.

As an auctioneer, she liked this kind of competitive opponent the most—the prices they drove up were often much higher than expected.

In the Heaven-2 private box, the bead curtains hung low, and the spirit lamp light was soft.

Saint Son Yang Ritian lay half-reclined on a soft couch, his posture leisurely, his gaze falling carelessly on the hairpin, seemingly unconcerned about their quarreling.

The male pet beside him, Mu Yunqing, knelt on the edge of the couch, his fingertips twisting a thin script.

He suddenly moved closer to Saint Son Yang Ritian and handed the script to him, speaking in a soft, syrupy voice: "Saint, look at this; I found it just the day before yesterday. This book is a masterpiece—I can play the cold and aloof Empress, and you can play a commoner youth. With just a silver tongue, that youth actually tricks the Empress into signing a life-sharing contract with her own hand, and from then on, the Empress exists only for that youth alone..."

As he spoke, his gaze drifted quietly toward the hairpin.

"This Crimson Flame Golden Crow Hairpin would suit me perfectly. If you buy it for me, Saint, I will wear it for you to see, alright?"

Saint Son Yang Ritian had originally had a lazy smile on his lips, but upon hearing this, he casually took the script and flipped through two pages.

A moment later, he scoffed. With a twist of his fingertips, a wisp of flame flared up, burning the script to ashes.

"Nonsense."

Mu Yunqing's face turned pale, and he shrank his neck.

"Who wrote this?"

"It is a sour, stinky scholar from the Green Turtle Dynasty, a Mortal Dynasty under the jurisdiction of the Fire Turtle Kingdom..."

"A sour, stinky scholar. A very fitting 'sour, stinky scholar'."

Saint Son Yang Ritian brushed the ashes from his fingertips, his voice indifferent: "You and I have performed many plays, but this one is the lowest quality, a piece of garbage that doesn't even make sense. You actually dare to bring it to sully my eyes?"

He turned his head, his gaze falling on Mu Yunqing's slightly pale face, a hint of coldness in his tone: "Or is it—that you want to turn the tables? Borrowing the act of a cold and aloof Empress, you want to climb over the head of this Saint..."

He didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.

Mu Yunqing trembled all over and hurriedly knelt down, his forehead pressed against the carpet: "I dare not! I have never thought of such a thing! Please see clearly, Saint!"

Saint Son Yang Ritian watched him for a moment and withdrew his gaze: "You had better not have thought of it. You have been with me for so long, so I will not punish you this time. But that sour, stinky scholar has sullied my eyes; do you know how to handle it?"

Mu Yunqing let out a sigh of relief and replied respectfully: "I understand."

Saint Son Yang Ritian gave a hum, picked up his teacup and took a sip, his gaze falling back on the hairpin: "Since you want that hairpin, buying it is fine. Wear it when we arrive at Fusang Land to accompany me in performing that play, 'The Saint Suppresses the Eight Directions'."

Mu Yunqing's eyes lit up, his voice soft and charming: "Thank you, Saint. The Saint suppresses the eight directions, and all directions shall bow."

The scholarly teacher with a refined face and silver-gray robes sitting in the corner did not look up the entire time, only holding a cup of tea, his fingertips gently rubbing against the rim of the cup.

The corner of his mouth moved slightly, as if smiling, or perhaps in disdain.

What a good tactic. Training a dog.

Outside, the dispute between Fire Turtle Mountain and Chiling Pavilion continued, the price already raised to one hundred and eighty million.

Mu Yunqing glanced outside, then looked at Saint Son Yang Ritian, his eyes filled with a hint of expectation.

Saint Son Yang Ritian set down his teacup and spoke unhurriedly: "Three hundred million."

The voice was not loud, but it clearly spread throughout the entire hall.

The voice of Tu Yan, the Young Lord of Fire Turtle Mountain, stopped abruptly.

In the Earth-2 private box, Zhu Yan opened his mouth, just about to increase the bid, when Zhu Chixiao pressed down on his wrist.

Zhu Chixiao shook his head.

Sect Master Tu Wanxiong was the first to react, laughing aloud: "Saint, Your Highness has a good eye! This Phoenix-Perching Crimson Flame Hairpin is forged entirely from Crimson Flame Essence Gold, the Phoenix spreading its wings on the head of the hairpin is lifelike, and the fire-patterned gemstone is a rare treasure indeed. It is a perfect match for the Saintess. The Saint is truly painstaking for the Saintess; this is wonderful! Fire Turtle Mountain withdraws."

Zhu Chixiao also quickly said: "Chiling Pavilion withdraws."

A low sigh went through the general seating area.

Once the Golden Crow Holy Son spoke, naturally no one dared to compete.

Mu Qinglan looked helpless; here it was again.

But this time, the Golden Crow Holy Son had spoken late, so it was still okay.

Keeping the smile on her face unchanged, her voice was clear and bright: "Three hundred million, going once."

Everyone's gaze fell on that brocade tray; no one raised a bid again.

"Three hundred million, going—"

"Five hundred million."

The entire hall went silent for a moment.

Everyone's gaze turned in unison toward the source of the voice.

Heaven-1 private box.

That voice came from inside again, the tone indifferent: "You Golden Crow Saintess likes this hairpin? Then I want this hairpin."