Chapter 65

Everyone fixed their gaze and saw that the cage contained not a person, but a massive dog with fiery red fur standing on end.

The dog was two or three times the size of a normal household dog, its appearance fearsome, crimson saliva dripping from its jaws as if it had just drunk fresh blood.

“This is a Chi’ao dog, raised by our Wuyou Cave every six months. Regular patrons here know this dog is often fed human blood and flesh—it is as ferocious as a tiger or leopard, capable of taking down seven or eight strong men without falling. It is our Wuyou Cave’s signature item.”

Zhao Ti squinted; beside him, Shang Qi whispered, “Young Master, I’ve seen this creature before. A few months ago, the Iron Leg Gang we wiped out kept one—we cut it to pieces when our brothers stormed in.”

The colorful-clad man continued: “Raising this dog is no easy task. Starting bid: ten guan. Esteemed patrons, begin bidding.”

Those in the hall immediately began bidding; the dog was highly sought-after, and within moments the price soared to one hundred and eighty guan.

At Gui Fan Lou’s auction, bids are called out in copper coins, but payment is settled in silver, gold, or flying notes—though silver does not circulate in ordinary markets, it is commonly used in large transactions, military pay, and border trade.

One hundred and fifty guan could already buy two low-grade warhorses at current rates—a substantial sum—but the price kept climbing, and within a few breaths, it had reached three hundred guan.

Zhao Ti tapped his fingers lightly on the table; Shang Qi immediately shouted: “Five hundred guan!”

The hall fell utterly silent; all eyes turned toward them. Though the dog was rare and fierce, and owning it would bring prestige, five hundred guan was simply too much—there were many finer items still to come, and everyone needed to save their money.

“This gentleman has won the Chi’ao dog for five hundred guan! Record it!” the colorful-clad man cried excitedly. The Chi’ao dog had never fetched such a price before; when he returned to Wuyou Cave after the auction, the cave master would surely reward him.

Next, someone brought forward a black lacquered tray covered with a crimson cloth. The colorful-clad man carefully lifted it, revealing a pearl the size of an egg, glowing a sinister green and emitting a foul odor.

“This is the Yin Cold Pearl. Placed underground, it chills the rooms above to the bone—perfect for summer use. A true treasure.”

The crowd exchanged glances, unsure what this thing was.

Someone asked: “Where does this pearl come from? Is it like a pearl, formed inside a clam or mussel in water?”

The colorful-clad man spoke softly: “It does come from water—but not from any shell. It forms over a thousand years from the stagnant corpse-water of ancient tombs.”

The man recoiled in shock, fell silent, and shrank back in his seat.

“This is indeed a rare item. Take it to Daoist recluses living on sacred mountains and show it to them—they may well desire it. Its value could far exceed what my Wuyou Cave offers. We cannot easily take it out of the capital, or we would not sell it so cheaply.” The man chuckled awkwardly.

The crowd glanced at one another; one man said: “Does your cave even contain ancient tombs?”

The colorful-clad man replied: “Clearly you’re an outsider, not a native of Dongjing. Who among the old families of Dongjing wouldn’t know the city is built layer upon layer—beneath us lie four or five older cities? Not just tombs, but palaces and halls, countless of them.”

“I see…” the man nodded.

The colorful-clad man now preened: “There are countless treasures buried beneath, but they lie too deep, drowned in rivers of accumulated water, impossible to reach. In time, as seas turn to mulberry fields, even Dongjing may sink beneath the earth.”

The crowd grimaced. Only people from Gui Fan Lou would dare say such things—none among them would ever speak so boldly.

“Very well. Now we auction this Yin Cold Pearl. Starting bid: three hundred guan!”

“Three hundred and eighty guan!”

“Four hundred guan!”

“Four hundred and thirty guan!”

“...”

Though the pearl carried ill omens, some still bid. After all, it emitted a faint chill—those near it felt its power and believed it a true treasure. Even if they didn’t use it themselves, it made an excellent gift; no one would ask its origin.

Zhao Ti studied the Yin Cold Pearl on the tray, wondering if its chill came from long burial underground, soaked in subterranean water—perhaps the cold would fade entirely, leaving it nothing more than an ordinary pearl.

He signaled to Shang Qi. “One thousand guan!” Shang Qi shouted.

Everyone froze. Who ever raised the bid so wildly? Did this man have money he didn’t know what to do with?

A masked old man in front turned around: “Young man, are you very wealthy?”

Zhao Ti glanced at him and smiled faintly; Shang Qi sneered, "If you're not convinced, raise your bid!"

The old man grunted and turned away.

No one raised the bid further. The colorful-clad man beamed. “Quickly record it—this esteemed patron has won another fine item!”

Next, several more items were brought out—common treasures, but with low starting bids. Competition flared fiercely, yet each was eventually snatched up by Shang Qi at high prices.

The colorful-clad man’s expression darkened; his tone grew harsh: “Esteemed patron, are you certain you want all of them? Wuyou Cave does not accept returns—if you break this rule… you may pay with your life.”

Zhao Ti closed his eyes and ignored him. Beside him, Zhou Dong said: “Enough talk. My young master has mountains of gold and silver. This sum means nothing. If he’s pleased, he may even buy out the entire night’s auction.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” The colorful-clad man licked his lips, smearing a bit of his face paint as he tasted it, then chuckled: “I, Little Butterfly Cui Chong, was blind—I didn’t recognize such an esteemed patron. Please forgive my ignorance.”

His words sounded smooth, but the crowd below was furious.

A fat middle-aged man rose with a grunt: “Young lad, don’t get too arrogant!”

Another, younger, spoke in a soft, sly tone: “Pride invites rain from heaven; arrogance invites disaster. Today’s triumph may be tomorrow’s downfall.”

A slightly corpulent man added: “Too much arrogance, and you won’t walk out of here. Wuyou Cave plays by rules—we don’t.”

Shang Qi sneered: “Incompetent dogs barking. If you’ve got the money, bid! If not, leave before you embarrass yourselves further!”

“You!” The hall was on the verge of chaos when the colorful-clad man shouted: “Everyone here came to support Wuyou Cave! Are you now defying us?”

“But—”

“Esteemed patrons, the highest bidder wins—that is Wuyou Cave’s rule. Are you refusing to abide by it?” The man’s expression turned grim.

At his words, the hall fell silent. He clapped twice sharply. Behind them, footsteps echoed—this time, not treasures were brought forth, but a group of brutal men dragging seven or eight captives forward.

Most were young women, one small child with hanging braids, and one young man.

All seemed drugged—dazed, vacant, utterly passive.

The colorful-clad man said: “These are this month’s fresh meat. Standard price: ten guan per woman or child. The young man… thirty guan!”