Chapter 61: The Auction Immortal Assembly

It was a golden rule of survival: low-level cultivators should never recklessly scrutinize their superiors.

“To the Auction House.”

Li Meng strolled leisurely through the streets, heading toward the imposing structure that dominated the district.

Today, the Market City’s Auction House was the epicenter of activity, yet surprisingly few cultivators were actually entering or exiting its grand doors.

The majority of the crowd remained outside, wandering the sprawling market streets.

Makeshift stalls lined the roads, a chaotic tapestry of commerce. Setting up a stall was a time-honored tradition in the cultivation world, favored not just by Rogue Cultivators, but also by disciples of great sects and members of prominent clans.

It was a primal form of exchange—bartering the useless for the necessary.

Items of low value had no place within the high-class auction; they were destined to circulate only among the lower tiers of the cultivation world. Whenever the Auction Immortal Assembly convened, the surrounding Market City transformed into a massive, open-air bazaar for these lesser treasures.

Outside the Auction House, the clamor was deafening. The streets were a sea of heads, a portrait of ceaseless, frantic life.

From this bustling crowd, a burly, muscular figure detached himself and strode toward the grand entrance.

This giant of a man was none other than Li Meng, hidden beneath his transformed appearance.

“Greetings, Senior! Welcome to the Auction House!”

The moment he crossed the threshold, a female Inner Disciple of the Joyous Union Sect greeted him with a beaming, professional smile.

Li Meng swept his gaze over the approaching Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Average features. Average figure. Her chest… also average.

In fact, everything about her was aggressively mediocre. Li Meng didn’t even bother to sweep her with his Divine Sense to check her cultivation depth.

Despite her role as a mere greeter, she was still an Inner Disciple of a powerful sect and a Foundation Establishment expert. Outside these walls, she would be a figure of authority.

Li Meng cupped his hands and bowed, observing the necessary etiquette.

“This humble one is Iron Ox. I have come to participate in the Auction Immortal Assembly, and I possess a few items I wish to consign.”

The female cultivator smiled gracefully. “Please, follow me.”

Li Meng fell into step behind her.

They walked single file down a long, winding corridor. Li Meng trailed a few paces back, his eyes naturally drawn to the swaying, rhythmic movement of her hips.

A faint, appreciative smile touched his lips, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

Though this Senior was ordinary in every other respect, her waist and hips were exceptional. If she were a mortal woman, the village matchmakers would undoubtedly praise her for having a fertile silhouette.

After navigating several turns, she led him into a quiet reception room.

“Please wait a moment.”

Li Meng took a seat by the tea table.

This was only his second visit to the Auction House. He was hardly a regular, but he was no longer the wide-eyed novice he had been during his first trip. He kept his mind focused, refusing to let his thoughts wander.

The female disciple bowed and retreated.

Approximately the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, a soft click broke the silence.

The door pushed open, and an elderly man in gray robes entered.

“Young friend, my apologies for the delay!”

The old man chuckled amiably, taking the seat opposite Li Meng. His sharp eyes immediately began appraising the burly “Iron Ox,” just as Li Meng assessed him in return.

It was the same Elder who had received him last time.

“Young friend is aware of the rules for the Auction Immortal Assembly?”

Li Meng nodded silently. With a casual wave of his hand, a pill bottle and five talismans flew from the storage pouch at his waist, landing neatly on the tea table.

The Elder’s gaze fell upon the items. His pupils contracted sharply.

From the talismans alone, he could sense a profound, mysterious natural intent—a signature of high-tier craftsmanship.

“Do they qualify for consignment?” Li Meng asked, his voice roughened to match his disguise.

“They do. Most certainly!”

The Elder reached into his robes and produced a black token. He tossed it lightly across the table. Wrapped in a gentle glow of yellow Spiritual Power, the token floated through the air and hovered before Li Meng.

Li Meng reached out and snatched it.

“Holders of this token may participate in the Auction Immortal Assembly,” the Elder explained. “After the assembly concludes, young friend may use this token to claim the spirit stones from your successful auctions.”

The Elder rose to his feet. With a sweep of his sleeve, he collected the pill bottle and talismans.

“Please wait a moment longer.”

He offered Li Meng a kindly, knowing look before turning and exiting the room.

Moments later, the door opened again. It was the same female Senior who had first greeted him.

“Fellow Daoist, this way, please!”

She stood at the doorway, smiling radiantly. Her demeanor had shifted; her entire body now exuded an alluring, fox-like charm.

Li Meng maintained his composure as he stood up, though his mind raced.

Was she activating a Charm Technique? Does this Senior actually intend to seduce a rough brute like Iron Ox?

He followed her deeper into the Auction House. They twisted through a maze of corridors and ascended several flights of stairs before she finally pushed open a heavy set of double doors.

A wave of noise washed over him.

Li Meng stepped inside and glanced around. He had arrived at the main auction hall.

The structure was massive, divided into three distinct tiers.

The first level was the pit, holding the main auction stage surrounded by rows upon rows of open seating platforms.

The second level consisted of individual private booths with open balconies, offering an excellent vantage point to view both the stage and the other guests.

The third level… that was for the true heavyweights.

Li Meng was led to a balcony platform on the second level. He took his seat, expecting the attendant to leave.

She did not.

Instead, the female Senior sat down right beside him. With a bewitching smile, she leaned her graceful body against his massive frame.

Playing the part of the rough rogue cultivator, Li Meng naturally wrapped a thick arm around her slender waist.

His gaze swept over the hall below.

The first level was filled with men and women sitting in meditation. Each one emanated a powerful aura.

At a glance, Li Meng realized the terrifying truth: everyone down there was a Golden Core cultivator.

There were over thirty of them—all Rogue Cultivators.

He shifted his gaze to the booths on the second level. The occupants here were also uniformly Golden Core stage practitioners, but their attire gave them away. They hailed from the five great sects of the State of Zhao.

As for the third level, Li Meng didn’t even bother looking up. Those luxurious suites undoubtedly housed the Nascent Soul ancestors.

The cacophony in the hall wasn’t coming from the stoic Rogue Cultivators below, but from the sect dignitaries on the second level.

Most Golden Core experts from the five great sects were acquaintances. Since they rarely met, they took this opportunity to shout greetings across the balconies. Some were discreet, using Divine Sense transmissions, but others had no concept of propriety.

To Li Meng’s left, a boisterous voice boomed out.

“Senior Sister Huanhuan! I’ve always fancied you! Why don’t you divorce that husband of yours and marry me instead? I promise you this—my Wu Hao would treat you a thousand times better than he ever could!”

Wu Hao, a Golden Core cultivator from Giant Sword Mountain, grinned broadly. He had one foot propped arrogantly on his balcony railing, staring hungrily at an adjacent booth.

In that booth sat a man and a woman sharing a seating platform.

The woman was clad in robes of pink feathers, her graceful form nestled intimately against her companion’s chest. Despite her position, she met Wu Hao’s lecherous gaze with a seductive smile.

“Little Wu Hao~,” she cooed, her voice dripping with a coquettish charm that could melt bone. “Be careful, or you might get yourself killed~”

She winked playfully.

Wu Hao laughed heartily, unfazed. He turned his gaze toward the woman’s companion—a black-robed Golden Core cultivator whose expression was as cold as glacial ice.

“Han Li!” Wu Hao shouted, his tone shifting to a challenge. “Dare you cross swords with me?”

Han Li regarded the noisy swordsman impassively.

“If we cross swords,” Han Li said, his voice cutting through the noise like a razor, “let there be no quarter given. Life or death.”

The murderous intent in Han Li’s eyes was palpable.

Wu Hao flinched. The bravado faltered for a split second before he forced out another loud, awkward laugh.

“You Joyous Union Sect folks really are no fun at all! Boring! So boring!”

Grumbling, Wu Hao finally sat back down.

Any further provocation would only make him look like an utter fool.