Fan Qinghe was now thoroughly baffled by the Holy Son before her. When Ye Chen ntioned gifting the diagram to Yi Qingwu, his expression showed genuine excitent. She couldn't tell if he was serious or not.
This uncertainty weighed on her, not just about whether she'd secure the visualization diagram, but whether she could truly ta this man.
What if Ye Chen wasn't sincere? What if, like the Heavenly Emperor, he aid to freeload and had a way to counter the divine seed? What would she do then? Could she choose soone else?
If Ye Chen didn't exist, she might settle for another prodigy. But he did exist—peerless in talent, astonishing in combat, and wielding resources beyond even a Holy Land's reach. This suggested he'd inherited so extraordinary legacy, possibly even the Heavenly Emperor's, as rumors claid. Where else in the world could she find a better protector?
With Ye Chen, she had a shot at immortality. Faced with the chance to choose him, settling for soone else out of fear would leave her with lifelong regret.
For the first ti, Fan Qinghe felt a rare confusion, glimpsing the anxiety that plagued generations of divine maidens. Should she choose the one most likely to ascend to immortality, yet hardest to control? Or settle for soone she could dominate, but who offered no path to the immortal realm?
Ye Chen's shift in attitude distracted her from the ongoing auction. She stopped her playful gestures, her amber-hued, honey-like body pressed against his arm, lost in quiet thought.
…
"One million five hundred thousand top-grade spirit stones."
When Ye Chen's voice rang out again, Yi Qingwu, in her booth, narrowed her eyes. His wealth was truly staggering. After spending two million on the Moon Laurel Tree fragnt, he could still bid one and a half million more.
The Queen Mother of the West visualization diagram was clearly out of her reach. Though already at Deity Transformation, she admired the legendary first female immortal and hoped to gain insights from the diagram.
Alas, it wasn't ant to be. Proud as she was, Yi Qingwu disdained petty tactics and refused to let Ye Chen rattle her. She stayed silent, letting him claim the diagram.
As the auction moved to the next item, another treasure caught her interest for her cultivation. She bid again… But soon, her brows furrowed.
The mont she spoke, Ye Chen raised the bid! Was he still targeting her? He'd already spent three and a half million spirit stones—an unimaginable sum. Even as the rumored Heavenly Emperor's successor, his resources couldn't be limitless. How much more could he have?
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After a few bids, reaching her limit, she backed off, letting Ye Chen take it. She remained calm, serene as a Moon Palace goddess, unruffled.
Ye Chen's spirit stones weren't infinite. Spending hundreds of thousands or even millions repeatedly couldn't last forever. But soon, her smooth, moonlight-like forehead creased tightly.
Ye Chen had snatched two more treasures from her with high bids. Every ti she bid, he countered, determined to ensure she left the auction empty-handed. By now, he'd spent at least six million top-grade spirit stones. It was staggering.
How many spirit stones did he have? Even with a grand inheritance, could he keep spending like water without running dry?
Cultivation wasn't just about talent—it was also about resource managent. Using resources wisely was a fundantal lesson for every cultivator. Even for Holy Sons and Holy Maidens, resources were never truly sufficient.
The higher one's cultivation, the greater the consumption. So Deity Transformation cultivators, even decades after breaking through, couldn't afford a single dao weapon.
Mahayana cultivators might spend centuries unable to gather materials for an Extre Dao weapon, settling for ordinary Dao-grade ones. Even Holy Sons and Holy Maidens of great sects faced monts of scarcity.
Yet Ye Chen, with such vast wealth, squandered it for fleeting satisfaction. Utterly foolish.
Still, Yi Qingwu remained relatively calm. Besides the Moon Laurel Tree fragnt, her two most desired treasures were later in the auction. By then, Ye Chen's resources would surely be depleted, unable to compete as fiercely. So, she closed her eyes again, her body radiating lunar essence, waiting patiently.
…
Ti ticked by.
The auction hall buzzed with gasps and exclamations.
Ye Chen made no effort to conceal his actions, drawing countless gazes toward his booth. One thought dominated the crowd's minds: the Fourth Holy Son was insane. It wasn't that they were inexperienced—his actions were simply too outrageous.
At first, he only targeted treasures Yi Qingwu bid on, snatching them away. That was understandable—rumored to be the son of the Heavenly Dao, he likely had vast resources, and targeting his rival, the Heavenly Intention Holy Land, made sense.
But then, he didn't stop there. Even when Yi Qingwu didn't bid, Ye Chen kept going, undeterred by competitors driving prices sky-high. He never backed down. Of the over eighty items auctioned, he'd claid twenty-seven.
So cultivators present had lived for millennia, yet they'd never witnessed such a spectacle—not even in historical records. Even the Heavenly Emperor paled in comparison.
The Emperor, a Source Heaven Master skilled in an ancient art for locating spirit stone veins, had once found an extre-grade vein and used it to buy treasures under a false identity, sparking several wars. But even he hadn't swept an auction like Ye Chen, practically hauling a sack to collect treasures. It was staggering.
Many calculated that, in this single auction, Ye Chen had spent nearly twelve million top-grade spirit stones. A sum so vast that even struggling Holy Land-level factions might hesitate to produce it. Was the Fourth Holy Son truly the Heavenly Dao's son? Had he unearthed an extre-grade spirit stone vein?
Most dismissed the "son of the Heavenly Dao" rumor, instead believing one thing: Ye Chen was the Heavenly Emperor's successor. Given the Emperor's recorded habits, leaving a few spirit stone veins in his inheritance was entirely plausible.
The hall was abuzz with shock.
In Yi Qingwu's booth, as yet another treasure she coveted was snatched by Ye Chen, even her refined composure faltered. Beneath her skirt, her fists clenched tightly.
This is too much—far too much!
The more she thought, the angrier she beca.
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