Chapter Thirty-Eight: Quenching Thirst

Auction venue.

The atmosphere was eerily silent. The assembled cultivators glanced left and right, their eyes darting between Ye Cang and Chen Lie. Both men were outstanding figures among the younger generation of Yunzhou, each hailing from a prestigious sect. Their rivalry promised a spectacle worth watching.

Ye Cang’s expression was tense; he stared at the opposite VIP suite and sneered, “Chen Lie, must you always oppose me?”

Across the hall, Chen Lie laughed heartily, “I’ve said it before—the treasures of heaven and earth belong to those destined for them. We’re just bidding fairly. Who’s opposing whom? Or is it that when Young Master Ye sets his sights on something, no one else is allowed to even try?”

His words rang out, and the surrounding crowd nodded in agreement.

Ye Cang, unable to refute him, could only respond with a cold laugh. “Hmph, if you want fair competition, let’s see if you’re up to it!”

“Steward Huang, I bid twenty thousand spirit jades for this item! Bring it to me!”

Before Huang Huifeng could react, Chen Lie scoffed, “Ridiculous. The Golden Spirit Fruit for twenty thousand? I’ll bid twenty-five thousand. Steward Huang, hurry and present it to me!”

The tension between the two was palpable, their rivalry sharp enough to electrify the air. The cultivators watched in astonishment.

“It’s already at twenty-five thousand!”

“No wonder they’re disciples of great sects—they’re truly wealthy!”

“Indeed, every bid jumps by five thousand spirit jades!”

“Five thousand spirit jades—that’s ten years of my savings!”

“It seems the Golden Spirit Fruit is beyond our reach.”

“I wonder who will ultimately prevail between them.”

...

While the crowd murmured, Ye Cang and Chen Lie continued their fierce standoff. Wang Ran, meanwhile, observed quietly, waiting for the right moment to make his move.

He’d heard of Chen Lie, the Thunder Lord of the Purple Heaven Sect. Chen Lie had risen to fame three years prior, stunning Yunzhou by building his foundation with Eight-Star Dao Techniques, becoming the leading disciple of Purple Heaven Palace.

Rumor had it that during his enlightenment, the sky for thousands of miles was shrouded in blue mist, sunlight blocked, and endless black thunder roiled above, making all creatures tremble. When that black lightning struck the earth, it left pits several meters deep, its power terrifying. Everyone fled—except Chen Lie, who not only stood his ground but welcomed the thunder, bathing in its darkness.

This was no ordinary lightning, but the legendary Nether Thunder—the most savage among thunder’s powers, born only in void fissures.

Chen Lie’s ability to withstand it hinted at an extraordinary constitution. Some claimed he was the reincarnation of a Nether Thunder demon, immune to its wrath.

Later, in duels, Chen Lie’s opponents often suffered from thunder’s might, reinforcing his reputation. Mentioning Chen Lie of Purple Heaven Palace made everyone shudder; they called him the Thunder Lord.

Compared to Ye Cang, he might not be his equal, but he was formidable nonetheless. Both were prodigies of their generation, and their clash naturally drew all eyes.

Ye Cang’s face darkened. Things had gone beyond his expectations. He’d hoped to acquire the Golden Spirit Fruit for less than twenty thousand spirit jades, but Chen Lie’s appearance had ruined that plan.

After some thought, Ye Cang raised his bid. “Thirty thousand!”

A gasp swept through the crowd. Thirty thousand spirit jades—a staggering sum, the highest so far!

Chen Lie clapped his hands. “Well, Young Master Ye, what a grand gesture. Thirty thousand spirit jades—how generous!”

Ye Cang snorted, “Are you following? If not, spare your sarcasm. Steward Huang, the item—”

“Wait.” Before Ye Cang could finish, Chen Lie interrupted, “Who says I’m backing down? I’ll add three thousand more. Thirty-three thousand. That’s my limit. If you can top it, it’s yours.”

Ye Cang narrowed his eyes. Thirty-three thousand was beyond his expected maximum. He’d brought fifty thousand spirit jades, but for certain reasons, twenty thousand were untouchable—public funds. Yet at this point, he had no choice but to dip into those reserves.

His expression shifted. “Fine, I’ll add two thousand. Thirty-five thousand spirit jades!”

As his voice echoed, Chen Lie’s eyes flickered, and after a moment, he truly made no further bid. He’d reached his limit.

The cultivators were stunned once again.

“Thirty-five thousand spirit jades!”

“That’s a fortune!”

“Over thirty thousand—Ye Cang really lives up to his reputation as a Nine-Star Foundation prodigy. So generous.”

“He wins this round!”

“Though, Ye Cang seems to be at his limit as well.”

“Over thirty thousand—no one can top that here.”

“Looks like the Golden Spirit Fruit will go to Ye Cang after all.”

The crowd marveled, convinced Ye Cang would be the final winner. Even Huang Huifeng thought so, believing no one could outbid Ye Cang. He struck the table and declared, “Thirty-five thousand spirit jades, once! Thirty-five thousand spirit jades, twice! Thirty-five—”

Hearing Huang Huifeng’s call, Ye Cang finally smiled, regaining his lofty composure and savoring the thrill of imminent victory.

But right then, a voice rang out in the hall, unexpected and clear.

“Forty thousand!”

Just two words, but they silenced the air itself.

All eyes snapped to the VIP suite, where the mysterious cultivator Chen Wangran, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.

This time, it was he himself, not his disciple Bei Minglie, who voiced the bid.

Everyone froze. Bei Minglie stared at Wang Ran in shock, and Ye Cang’s body stiffened, his smile stuck on his face.

“Senior, I am Ye Cang, an inner disciple of the Only Me Sect, soon to be a true disciple. This Golden Spirit Fruit is genuinely useful to me. I hope you’ll show mercy.”

Ye Cang squinted at Wang Ran, uncertain of his intentions, but his words carried a faint warning.

Wang Ran scoffed inwardly, especially at the “soon to be a true disciple” part.

“Sorry, I happen to be thirsty and this fruit looks promising. I thought it might quench my thirst,” Wang Ran replied, his expression unchanged and voice calm.

The crowd was dumbfounded.

Thirsty?

Eat a Golden Spirit Fruit to quench your thirst?

My goodness, how outrageous could one be?

Wang Ran’s remark sent their minds reeling, even making them question their existence.

Ye Cang’s brows grew darker. “Senior, must you make things difficult for me? This benefits no one.”

Wang Ran shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not short on money.”

Ye Cang was speechless. After a long silence, he managed to bid, “Forty-one thousand spirit jades.”

“Fifty thousand!”

The words had barely left Ye Cang’s lips before a new bid rang out, giving no time for thought, raising the price by nine thousand as if spirit jades meant nothing.

The cultivators were utterly stunned; the hall was deathly silent.

They had thought Ye Cang, after fierce competition, was the final winner. Who could have guessed that Chen Wangran would appear out of nowhere?

Fifty thousand spirit jades—just like that!

And all to quench his thirst!

What kind of tycoon could do such a thing?

Who exactly was Chen Wangran?