As Zong Shou mused, bids were already rising below. Starting directly at two hundred third-tier beast crystals, the price climbed steadily until it slowed around the four hundred mark.

This was already approaching the normal market value for that Black Wave Sword, and only a sparse few remained in the bidding, sequestered within the private boxes.

Zong Shou took another steady look at the sword, and only when no further bids were offered did he signal ‘nine’ to Yin Yang with a gesture.

Yin Yang, though slightly surprised, had no intention of disobeying Zong Shou’s wishes. However, before he could speak, Chu Xue excitedly rushed to the window and called out, "My Young Lord says, nine hundred third-tier beast crystals!"

In an instant, countless inquisitive gazes swept across the teahouse, looking in their direction. There was little astonishment in their eyes, but each held a distinct shade of curiosity.

Third-tier spirit beasts were not rare in this world. However, condensing a viable third-tier beast crystal required decades of accumulation. Often, by the time these spirit beasts managed to condense one, they stood at the very peak of the third-tier.

Thus, even though many secret martial artists made a living hunting spirit beasts, even a lifetime's effort would yield perhaps five or six hundred crystals at most.

Nine hundred third-tier beast crystals far exceeded nearly double the going rate for the Black Wave Sword. That amount was enough to purchase a finely crafted first-tier spirit sword.

And in the gazes turned toward them, most carried an air of disdain. Zong Ling, not far off, shared the same sentiment, his eyes wide with an expression that clearly said, ‘You are truly foolish.’

Zong Shou paid them no mind, quietly awaiting the outcome. After a few breaths, no one offered another bid. Just as the old auctioneer was preparing to concede,

A low voice sounded from downstairs again: "One thousand third-tier beast crystals!"

Zong Shou looked toward the source and recognized the bidder as the black-clad middle-aged man seated alone in the corner.

By this point, everyone in the teahouse was displaying open amazement. It was strange; when Zong Shou bid nine hundred, everyone treated him like an idiot. Yet, when the black-clad man raised the price to one thousand, no one dared dismiss him. Instead, they scrutinized the sword once more, attempting to locate some hidden extraordinary quality.

Shaking his head inwardly, Zong Shou didn't hesitate long before extending five fingers toward Chu Xue again.

Chu Xue immediately understood and once more shouted loudly toward the window, "Five thousand third-tier beast crystals!"

This time, the bid caused most of the local gentry to gasp for breath. Many people present had lifetime savings that amounted to less than a tenth of this sum.

Five thousand beast crystals—that was more than enough to purchase the lives of three or five Innate Martial Masters.

Within that private box, whoever it was, dared to utter such a staggering figure for a sword that appeared utterly ordinary.

The black-clad middle-aged man, however, remained unmoved. After a moment of thought, he spoke again: "Five thousand one!"

Zong Shou flashed a grin and merely wiggled a single index finger at Chu Xue.

This time, however, it wasn't just Yin Yang who frowned; even Chu Xue hesitated slightly. Under Zong Shou’s fixed gaze, she managed to force out her words with less than full conviction: "Ten thousand third-tier beast crystals!"

As soon as the words fell, Zong Ling, from his box on the other side, could not help but erupt in a torrent of curses: "Zong Shou, I think you’ve gone mad! Our seven million clansmen of Mount Qiantian, with three thousand secret martial artists, only manage to hunt two hundred thousand third-tier spirit beasts annually. Even counting tributes from the cities, our total annual income is only one hundred thousand third-tier beast crystals. You spend ten thousand beast crystals today just for a broken sword? Even if you intended to bankrupt the house, this is no way to do it! What arcane secret does that sword hold? I refuse to believe you, someone who hasn't even opened the Meridian Wheel, could possibly see it!"

Zong Shou sat serenely, completely unconcerned. Having been poor in his previous life, he had counted every penny daily. Fortunate in this life to be the son of a Demon King, a scion of a great clan, with wealth beyond measure, he naturally could not be petty.

This sensation of crushing others with wealth, of treating beast crystals as insignificant, was profoundly satisfying.

As for Zong Ling, Zong Shou couldn't be bothered to acknowledge him. I use mine as I wish; what business is it of yours? If I don't spend these crystals now, should I wait for the Spiritual Tide to arrive and watch them depreciate?

Currently, one third-tier beast crystal was worth a thousand ounces of gold. But in two years, even a hundred ounces might be considered steep.

The black-clad man downstairs looked over once more. His gaze held no anger, only a sneer tinged with contempt: "Truly an idiot!"

The others nearby were momentarily stunned, then in the next instant, they understood. The man in the corner had likely only bid to toy with the people in the upstairs boxes, and they could not help but chuckle faintly.

The old auctioneer was also beaming, though laced with a hint of worry. No one had expected such a common Black Wave Sword to fetch a sky-high price of ten thousand. The sword had been mortgaged for only a hundred third-tier beast crystals, yet it earned ninety-nine times that amount!

However, could the bidder actually produce such a high price? Only after another manager-like figure whispered a few words into his ear did the old man's face fill with delight. He waved his hand, ordering the sword to be immediately delivered to Zong Shou’s box. He even managed to summon a notary from the Sanlu Bank to witness the transaction and draw up the receipt, seemingly fearful that Zong Shou might renege.

Once these people had dispersed, satisfied, Zong Shou finally lifted the Black Wave Sword and examined it in his hands.

Currently, the auction was focused on elixirs and talismans for martial cultivators and spirit masters, as well as antiques and property deeds.

Zong Shou held no interest in any of it, focusing solely on the sword in his grasp.

He could still hear Zong Ling muttering curses from the neighboring box. Seemingly tired, Zong Ling’s tone had turned mostly mocking: "The Sovereign was a hero in his life, how did he give birth to such a foolish son? If his spirit rests below, and he knew his lifetime savings were being squandered like this, would he not choke up blood? It’s one thing that you possess a Dual Meridian body and cannot cultivate martial arts, but your brain is also so dull? Every figure from Mount Yunxia is known for perfidy and betrayal. If the price was set high, they could simply default—who could stop them? Only you are this stupid—"

As Zong Ling babbled on, a cold gaze from the adjacent box flickered toward them—it was Yuan from the Purple Thunder Spear Sect.

Zong Shou acted as if he saw and heard nothing. Although Chu Xue was angry, she felt somewhat breathless and unable to formulate a rebuttal.

Only Yin Yang remained impassive, his expression equally serious as he stared at the Black Wave Sword, seemingly trying to help Zong Shou discern what made the blade valuable.

"It really is peculiar!"

After observing for a moment, Zong Shou flicked the blade with his finger, producing a sharp ding resonance that lingered for a long time.

Listening intently for a moment, Zong Shou focused his gaze on the hilt of the sword.

Though the blade was dull black, the hilt was inlaid with ten luminous pearls and adorned with dozens of strange talismans painted upon it.

Zong Shou experimented, removing all the pearls and fiddling with the mechanism for a moment longer. Then, Yin Yang and Chu Xue heard a light ‘kacha’ sound.

In the next instant, countless tightly sealed streams of vital energy seemed to find a release, surging outward. They pierced the wooden panels of the four walls, leaving behind numerous small, transparent holes.

Following that, a sharp, piercing surge of True Qi violently erupted, forcefully tearing open the entire roof of Zong Shou’s private box.

In Zong Shou’s hand, there was now a small sword, about two feet long, its cold light glittering.

At this moment, every eye in the entire teahouse turned upward once more. This time, the expression was more than just astonishment.

"It is a third-tier Spirit Weapon—"