I Was Forced to Marry a “Trash” Cultivator, But She Turned Out to Be a Reborn Empress!

Chapter 293: Different Treatments in the Auction Hall

Dawn had barely broken when Qian Yuanjin, President of the Heaven-Reaching Chamber of Commerce, arrived outside the courtyard to wait.

Though this brocade-clad elder possessed the terrifying cultivation of the **Deity Transformation Realm**, he displayed none of the arrogance typically associated with such power. Before a Tier-5 Artifact Refiner, he was the picture of humility.

In **Snowstorm City**, a Tier-5 Artifact Refiner was a supreme existence.

As for **Venerable Zi Yun**, his disguise was flawless; he appeared as nothing more than a dutiful steward, attracting little of Qian Yuanjin’s attention.

The courtyard gates swung open, and **Shen Xian** emerged.

Today, he was clad in robes whiter than the driven snow. His figure was tall and imposing, a dragon-shaped jade pendant swaying at his waist. Every movement radiated an indescribable, ethereal magnificence. Even with a mask concealing his features, the innate nobility etched into his very bones could not be hidden.

He was, after all, the most sought-after figure in the **Dao Xuan Sacred Land**.

“**Master** Wang, the carriage is prepared,” Qian Yuanjin said with a deep bow.

Behind him, a purple-gold carriage drawn by a colossal spirit beast stood silent and waiting.

The three boarded the carriage and sped toward the city center.

This auction was a joint venture by the three top-tier forces of **Snowstorm City**. The standards were exorbitantly high—entry was strictly forbidden to anyone below the **Nascent Soul** stage. Furthermore, a capital verification was required; one needed to possess at least one million **High Grade Spirit Stones** just to step through the door.

Upon arriving at the city center, a majestic five-story pavilion came into view, carved entirely from ten-thousand-year-old Profound Ice.

Seven massive luminous pearls were inlaid into the roof, casting a soft, clear radiance against the twilight. The entire structure was shrouded in a pale blue light curtain, across which golden runes flowed like liquid fire—a sign of a high-grade protective **Formation**.

On the plaza before the pavilion, dozens of cultivators in uniform magic robes maintained order, ruthlessly dividing the crowd into two distinct streams.

One area was packed with a long, winding queue. Cultivators there submitted to invasive inspections by the auction house, shuffling into the pavilion one by one.

The other area was starkly empty.

This was the passage for first-rate and top-tier forces. Those who walked this path required no inspection; their status was their pass.

While the **Heaven-Reaching Chamber of Commerce** possessed only average strength on its own, its backing from headquarters categorized it as a first-rate force. Thus, they bypassed the queue entirely and strolled into the pavilion with ease.

The interior was a hollowed-out marvel, with a spacious open area in the center. From the upper floors, one could gaze down and view the entire spectacle.

As a first-rate force, the **Heaven-Reaching Chamber of Commerce** was guided to a private box on the fourth floor.

The decor was opulent, shielded by isolation **Formations** that guaranteed absolute privacy for the esteemed guests.

Shen Xian paused at the door, his gaze lingering on a small teleportation array nearby.

*A short-distance spatial traversal array…* Shen Xian noted. *Only a Tier-6 Formation Master could lay this down. If I could replicate this, I could establish a direct tunnel between **Black Profound City** and the Sacred City.*

Suddenly, the small teleportation array flashed with spiritual light.

Yet, no one walked out.

Shen Xian narrowed his eyes. The arrivals were likely from the top-tier forces, transported directly to the “Heaven” class private boxes on the highest floor. There were only nine such boxes in the entire pavilion, reserved for those with supreme status and terrifying privileges.

Shen Xian entered his assigned box.

The room was roughly three *zhang* square, paved with warm jade. The walls were adorned with spirit paintings of landscapes by famous masters, and a red sandalwood table sat in the center, set with exquisite tea service and plates of spirit fruits.

Most eye-catching was the bronze mirror hanging on the wall. Its surface rippled like water, projecting a crystal-clear image of the auction stage below.

“This is the Treasure Viewing Mirror, specially prepared for distinguished guests,” Qian Yuanjin explained. “While it lacks the range of the ‘Thousand-Mile Eyes’ found in the Heaven class boxes, it can magnify the details of any lot tenfold.”

Once seated, a servant respectfully served spirit tea and presented a jade slip. “This is a partial catalog of today’s lots. Please peruse it at your leisure, my lords.”

Shen Xian took the jade slip, sweeping it with his **Divine Sense**. He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Quite a few decent items.”

Qian Yuanjin chuckled. “Naturally. This is **Snowstorm City**’s decennial grand auction. Even forces from other Sacred Lands have flocked here. However…” He lowered his voice, a hint of reverence creeping in. “The true treasures—the ones with value beyond measure—are likely known only to the guests in the Heaven class boxes.”

Information was a privilege of the strong.

Shen Xian remained unfazed. His sole objective was the **Divine Silence Quicksand**. Everything else was mere trinkets to a man jokingly referred to as the “True Lord of Many Treasures.”

He turned his gaze to the Treasure Viewing Mirror, observing the layout.

Of the five floors, only the top floor was completely shielded from view. The other four floors had curtains that blocked spiritual probing, but the naked eye could still discern the silhouettes within. Some cultivators, unbothered by scrutiny, had simply rolled up their curtains, putting their presence on display.

The first and second floors were already packed to capacity. The third and fourth floors were filling up. Only the mysterious fifth floor remained silent and unseen.

*Dong! Dong! Dong!*

Three distant bell chimes resonated through the hall.

Several maidservants in snow-white robes drifted onto the floor, holding crystal ice cups. Spirit flames danced within the cups, trailing azure tails through the air. As they took their positions flanking the jade stage, the pearls in the dome erupted with light, illuminating the central platform in microscopic detail.

The chaotic noise of the hall was instantly severed.

All eyes locked onto the square cold-jade stage. Seven layers of ice steps rose from the floor, culminating in a floating gilded table draped in black brocade embroidered with arcane runes.

“It’s beginning…” a cultivator whispered, the tension palpable.

Shen Xian tapped his knuckles rhythmically against the table, his expression languid. He was bored.

As the final bell chime faded, the lights in the hall dimmed.

Above, the seven luminous pearls focused their beams, casting a pillar of cold moonlight onto the stage.

“Distinguished guests, thank you for your patience.”

The voice was gentle, yet it carried an undeniable weight.

An old man with the white hair of a sage but the face of a youth stepped into the light. He wore a plain white magic robe, the cuffs embroidered with the unique ice crystal patterns of **Snowstorm City**.

The hall fell deathly silent.

The air grew heavy, turning to lead. It was the crushing pressure of the **Deity Transformation Realm**.

The old man walked to the center of the jade stage.

“This old man is **Han Songzi**. I am honored to preside over this grand event.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but amplified by the array, it drilled clearly into every ear. “Let us dispense with pleasantries. Please, appreciate the first lot.”

Before his words had fully settled, a female cultivator at the **Golden Core** stage glided forward, holding an ice-jade tray.

Resting on the tray was a crystalline ice lotus, three wisps of azure flame dancing at its heart.

“Five-hundred-year-old Profound Ice Azure Flame, harvested from a ten-thousand-*zhang* deep cold pool…” **Han Songzi** smiled, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Starting bid: one hundred **High Grade Spirit Stones**. Minimum increment: fifty stones!”

“One hundred and fifty!” a voice shouted from the first floor.

“Two hundred!” came a retort from a second-floor private room.

The hall stirred.

While the item was extraordinary, it held little appeal for the heavyweights on the upper three floors. It was a scrap for the wolves on the first and second floors to fight over.

Eventually, the hammer fell at four hundred **High Grade Spirit Stones**.

**Han Songzi** stroked his beard, smiling as he signaled for the next item.

The first half of the auction proceeded smoothly. The treasures were rare, but not rare enough to tempt the true masters. The upper two floors remained silent, watching the commoners squabble.

It wasn’t until the midpoint that the atmosphere shifted.

A jade *ruyi* scepter, carved from emerald stone, was presented.

“The ‘Green Spirit Ruyi’,” **Han Songzi** announced. “A mid-grade **True Spirit Treasure**. It contains a rare strand of Yi Wood Essence, offering immense benefits to cultivators of wood-element arts.”

“Starting price: one million **High Grade Spirit Stones**.”

The words had barely left his lips when a voice boomed from a fourth-floor box, trembling with excitement and arrogance.

“One million five hundred thousand! My **Qing Yuan Sect** wants this!”

The **Qing Yuan Sect**. A first-rate force within the Sacred Land.

They specialized in wood-element arts and possessed deep foundations. By announcing his sect immediately, the Elder was making a declaration: *This belongs to us. Bid against us at your peril.*

It was a classic suppression tactic.

And it worked. The hall fell into a heavy silence.

“One million six hundred thousand!” a brave soul eventually ventured.

But the **Qing Yuan Sect** Elder was relentless. He countered instantly, aggressively, not caring who the bidder was. He was determined to crush all opposition with the weight of his sect’s name.

The price climbed to two million three hundred thousand.

Silence returned. No one else dared to bid.

In the fourth-floor box, the **Qing Yuan Sect** Elder smiled. It was a smile of absolute victory. The prize was his.

“Two million three hundred thousand and…”

Suddenly, a lazy, indifferent male voice drifted down from the top floor.

“…one.”

The voice wasn’t loud, yet it hit the boiling auction hall like a bucket of glacial water.

The silence that followed was absolute. Even the sound of breathing seemed to vanish.

The smile on the **Qing Yuan Sect** Elder’s face froze into a grotesque mask.

He snapped his head upward, staring at the ceiling. Through the protective light curtain of the top floor, he could vaguely discern the projection of a cold moon.

**Cold Moon Palace**!

One of the top-tier forces of the **Dao Xuan Sacred Land**. A titan with foundations so deep they were unfathomable. Rumors spoke of their Palace Master being a terrifying existence at the late stage of **Void Refinement**. They were easily ranked within the top five forces of the region.

The **Qing Yuan Sect** Elder’s heart seized in his chest.

This was a behemoth his sect could not afford to provoke.

Worse, the other party had deliberately violated the unwritten etiquette. They hadn’t doubled the bid; they hadn’t added a hundred thousand. They had added *one* stone.

It wasn’t a bid. It was a slap in the face.

It was a message: *Get lost.*

The Elder’s hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. The Green Spirit Ruyi was vital for his cultivation, crucial for his path to immortality…

But against the **Cold Moon Palace**?

After a long, suffocating silence, his shoulders slumped.

He chose to fold.

Some people, you simply could not afford to offend.