Auctions. I really had to wonder how it had come to this, honestly. I never really imagined myself bothering with this kind of thing - I wasn't concerned with the rare and powerful resources that could be obtained through wealth, just the comfort money could bring. Fighting with money wasn't much different than fighting with your fists, and it was likely to lead to as many bruised egos and slapped faces regardless.

Fortunately, we had power enough to buy us some respect and face, but that didn't mean we could throw it around and hope to quash any resistance - nor did it mean getting the feather would be as simple as I'd like.

There is a list of things that are available at the auction, things brought in earlier, but there is always the option that something might be new, brought in on the day by a would-be seller or customer. A good deal of the things we brought could count as such. So we can't prepare a strategy based purely on the inventory.

I can predict that as a prize item and likely the most valuable thing being sold today, the feather is going to be the last on the agenda. I'm not sure who else knows the feather is available, so we can hopefully bank on people not saving their money for it. And given we aren't interested in anything else ourselves, we can pour all of our money into trying to bid for it.

But that doesn't guarantee our victory, and whilst I could just choose to trust in Zhou Cheng's Heaven-blessed luck, I'm not willing to for a number of reasons - partly because I really don't want to have to grapple with the idea that Zhou Cheng is actually, for realsies, blessed by Heaven or something.

The best way to improve our odds of winning - and if nothing else, to reduce the final price we have to pay - is to bid on other items to boost their final sale price.

Zhou Cheng frowns at me a little as I finish explaining my reasoning. "... but what if we win the item? Then we'll have spent our money for nothing."

Well, technically we would've spent it on something, we just don't care for the something, but not the point. "It's a risk, but so long as we don't bid outrageously it should be manageable. Regardless, it'd be strange to attend an auction and not bid on anything, wouldn't it?"

He doesn't seem entirely convinced, but any further discussion on the merits of attempting to bankrupt the other bidders like this is a game of Monopoly are cut off as a bright-faced woman ambles onto the main stage.

"Esteemed guests! It is our great honour and pleasure to welcome you to this auction! Once again, we have done our best to source only the rarest and most wondrous items for your perusal! Each is sure to amaze!" She has a husky voice, and one that projects well. We're a little too far away to properly see her, but she has an expressively round face - or at least, one with makeup to exaggerate the expressions. "Our first item is the core of a Winterfang Wolf! Bidding begins at one hundred!" She gestures lightly, and an attendant comes onto the stage, holding a silk pillow.

Sitting atop it is a glistening clear marble - no bigger than my thumbnail, I'd wager.

"One hundred and fifty!!" calls a heavy-set man, sparking a fury of bids. I almost throw one out myself, but everyone seems quite intent on pushing the price up themselves. Instead, I try to keep an eye on everyone's reactions, probing for any kind of rivalries or such that might help.

The dim lighting makes it hard to read any expressions though, and even when I do, nobody is particularly evocative. The woman wearing a veil is obviously a blank slate to me, but there are fans and other ways of hiding - let alone just putting on a poker face.

"Sold!" the announcer declares, gesturing lightly with a fan of her own, "to the Gilded Sun Sect!"

The man with the breastplate nods seriously to himself, shoulders square.

"For our next item, we have Dewdrop Lotus Roots! Bidding begins at one hundred!"

I take a stab and call out a bid. "Two hundred!" Honestly, obtaining the roots wouldn't be that bad an outcome. I haven't forgotten that our initial goal was to obtain some things for Cheng-ge's cultivation, and they could serve as an excellent ingredient to help form a proper pill.

Ultimately though, I let it slip once the bidding rises past three hundred thousand. The process repeated itself across the auction - wondrous items and rare treasures alike going for more money than I think I'd ever seen in my life.

Most notably, I was able to confirm one of my fears - medicine was where the fiercest bidding happened. A relatively simple Celestial Revitalization Elixir went for a few thousand, and rarer, more potent medicines were going for higher still.

Just how bad was the aftermath of that war…?

Finally, after what seems like a small eternity and was definitely at least a few hours of bidding, the auction starts to come to a close. Everything we brought to be auctioned has sold for a tidy sum, boosting our own funds - and for better or for worse, we hadn't ended up buying anything else despite our bids.

"Now," the announcer begins, still as perky and cheerful as when things kicked off, "for our final item - don't hold back! - we are truly honoured to be able to present to you, esteemed guests, a true treasure! A Phoenix Feather!"

The tension that blanketed the hall was thick enough to choke on.

Seemingly ignorant, the announcer continues. "Bidding begins… at fifty thousand!"

"Sixty!" someone calls, and a frenzy is well and truly kicked off. It takes less than a minute for the price to double. Twice again as long for it to double once more. And it didn't stop climbing there.

It kept going, and going… past our limits. "Shit…" I swear softly, watching the bid reach the six digits. The Whispering Sea wasn't poor, but it was very clearly outmatched here, even with our additions. Only two bidders remained now, and two that seemed to be rivals, of all things.

The veiled woman and the man in the breastplate - the Frozen Jade Temple, and the Gilded Sun Sect. Neither of them looked at each other or even acknowledged the other's presence, but there was a spark of something between them.

Although, finally, one had to concede defeat.

"And the prize goes to the Gilded Sun Sect!" the announcer declares, still bright and sunny and completely ignoring the mood in the room. "Thank you again, esteemed guests, for attending today's auction! We hope to see all of you once again next month!" She bows before everyone, and makes her way off the stage.

One by one, the various groups and sects rise up and begin to leave, ourselves included.

"Don't worry," I murmur to a rather crushed looking Mo Jianyang, "We'll think of something." 'Something' would probably involve throwing ourselves before the Gilded Sun's mercy but you know. We'll see.

Surprisingly, it's not us that seek out the Gilded Sun - but the Gilded Sun that seeks out us.

No sooner have we left the Auction Hall and begun making preliminary plans to reach out to them does a servant come up to pass on a 'request' to meet'. I admit, it's fortuitous for us, but I'm mostly left wondering why. The Whispering Sea Lodge has no great relations to it beyond the most cordial and basic of ties between Orthodox Sects, and I can't remember interacting with them personally.

"And neither of you remember anything…?"

Both Tian Mingfei and Zhou Cheng shake their heads. "If I did meet them, it was before I joined the Misty Peak," Tian Mingfei adds. "From what I remember, they're not as powerful but they shouldn't be ignored either."

"Well, we don't really have any intention of ignoring them, do we? We need to meet them regardless if we're to have any hope of acquiring the feather." The odds of them being willing to part with it seem astronomically low, but we have to at least try.

The invitation to meet is at one of the inn's in the city - easily one of the fanciest, most expensive places. It's not the fanciest, although I assume that's already been booked by a different group. I can't imagine any of them being all that willing to cohabit in the same building, even temporarily.

The moment we step in, an attendant ushers us up the stairs and into a private meeting room, bowing politely to us before leaving without a word.

After giving him a moment to compose himself, Mo Jianyang opens the door.

"Finally!" comes a voice from within, "How long did you intend to keep me waiting, ah?" The speaker is a young man - not the man in the breastplate we saw, but maybe someone related to him. He has a similar jawline, and the same eyes. Long dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and a stern, handsome face currently set in an arrogant smirk. Not a great sign, really.

Mo Jianyang narrows his eyes, bristling at the insult but he holds his tongue regardless. The person before us isn't hiding their power at all, allowing it to spill through the room. Somewhere at the peak of Foundation Establishment - outclassing myself and Mo Jianyang, but not Cheng-ge. "Forgive me, Senior, but I am not… familiar."

The Gilded Sun cultivator waves dismissively. "My words don't concern you, Junior - I'm not interested in the Whispering Sea." His gaze sharpens some, and he points an accusing finger directly at Zhou Cheng.

Cheng-ge, for his part, seems as confused as the rest of us. After a moment, realisation seems to dawn on him. "You…!" He puffed up, taking a step or two forward with an attempt to seem menacing.

I might be biased, but it's a little hard for me to see him like that.

"Me," the cultivator declares, sounding almost smug to be reocgnised. "You haven't forgotten. Good! I haven't either."

I glance over at Tian Mingfei in the vague hope that she has any understanding of what's going on, but she just meets my gaze with the same questioning look. Someone Zhou Cheng would recognise and react to like this but neither of us recognise? Someone from another Sect to boot, which…

Ah. This is that guy he fought back then, isn't it? The one Senior Kong slapped.

"It's not enough you denied us the feather, now you want to rub it in our face?" Zhou Cheng growls, the taste of ozone starting to build in the air.

The cultivator snorts. "You think we did that over you? There are limits to arrogance. That had nothing to do with you. Denying that witch is the only reason my Senior Brother needs."

I take the opportunity to hopefully deescalate things. "Then may I ask why you invited us to this meeting if not for the matter of the feather?"

His smirk softens a little, shifting into more of a casual smile as opposed to the challenge he was giving Zhou Cheng. "In a way, this is for the feather. Our Sect has no real use for it - and I have not forgotten you, my friend. Neither your rudeness nor your kindness."

"Get to the point," Zhou Cheng growls out, arms folded over his chest.

Thankfully, rather than be insulted or annoyed, the cultivator just smirks wider. "Since our meeting, my pride has remained wounded. I am willing to acknowledge you are my superior in the arts of combat… but there is more to cultivation than fighting. So I challenge you to a contest of the arts themselves!" he declares.

… what?

"Create whatever you desire and have it judged against my craftsmanship. If you can win my Senior Brother's approval, then I will give you the Phoenix Feather. I, Tang Shun, swear it!"