Chapter 281: Tuning Hammer Rises
Tuning Hammer Rises . . .
Everyone present grasped the reason behind the sudden surge of intense killing intent, yet they didn't delve into the specifics. After all, in such a grand auction, there were always precautionary measures in place for any potential escalation.
An elderly man with a flowing white beard, representing the Sunlight Sect, decided to inquire, "Might I be so bold as to inquire which esteemed lady graces the Sky No. 1 Room? Is it Wan of the Cloud or Xiu of the Heaven?" With a courteous smile, he added, "I am Sun Changlong. I harbor no ill intentions, my lady. I simply wish to pay my respects. We of the Sunlight Sect have shared a friendship spanning thousands of years. We are indeed old friends."
Within the confines of the Sky No. 1 Room, the young man clad in pristine white attire kept his eyes shut, exuding an aura of calm tranquility. It seemed as though he either hadn't heard the elderly man's inquiry or simply couldn't be bothered to respond.
Observing the expression on the young man's face, the girl in white attire took it upon herself to respond, "I am Wan of the Cloud. This is nothing more than an auction. Let us not complicate matters with other issues." Her words were composed and polite.
Sun Changlong heaved a sigh of relief and expressed his gratitude, saying, "Thank you, my lady."
Meanwhile, members of the Starlight Sect also found solace in this revelation. [So, it is Wan of the Cloud? Excellent! If it isn't Xiu of the Heaven, then we are in the clear.]
It was widely known that Wan of the Cloud possessed a gentle disposition and would not resort to violence unless absolutely necessary. With her presence at the auction, matters were expected to proceed more smoothly. If it had been Xiu of the Heaven attending, the situation might have been considerably more challenging to resolve.
At this juncture, a resounding strike from a hammer echoed through the venue—**Bang!** This abrupt sound startled everyone present. Following the earlier inundation of killing intent, Guan Wanshan, the event's master who stood on the central stage, had been visibly anxious. His steps had faltered, and it was evident that he understood the gravity of the situation, which had left him trembling.
However, now that the atmosphere had returned to normal and he held the Auctioneer's Hammer in his grasp, nothing else mattered. In his mind, there was only one paramount concern: the auction. All other considerations paled in comparison. Everything was in service of this auction—a legendary event he hoped would be etched in history, an enduring legend that would never fade into oblivion.
Nothing else occupied Cha Eun Xiao's mind. He was singularly focused, to the extent that he wouldn't entertain thoughts of his own mortality post-auction. The gravity of the auction, its potential impact, eclipsed all other considerations.
Amidst the diverse assembly of sect representatives and reclusive cultivators, there existed a distinct group—delegates of the government, individuals representing the Kingdom of Chen. No other nations were present at this auction, for the Kingdom of Chen was presently embroiled in conflicts with several neighboring states. If Ling-Bao Hall had permitted foreign delegations to attend, it would have been deemed an act of treason.
Among these government envoys, some hailed from the royal family, while others were affiliated with prominent officials' households. Nevertheless, none of them held substantial authority within the kingdom. In different circumstances, these individuals would be deemed of utmost importance. However, in this setting, they held minimal significance and occupied mere corners of the venue.
Even these secluded corners were considered adequate for their presence. Among this group, three princes were noteworthy, accompanied by scions of influential officials. Included among these was Zuo Wuji and Lan Langlang.
The royal family refrained from overtly attending the auction, prompting the three princes to strive diligently to secure their presence. They harbored no grand illusions of securing valuable items during the auction. Instead, they aspired to forge connections and friendships with eminent cultivators, a considerable achievement in its own right. Confident in their status as princes, they believed that displaying amiable intentions would attract followers readily.
Around the trio of princes congregated several young men, progeny of prominent officials. Seated adjacent to them were Zuo Wuji and Lan Langlang, their attention riveted on Guan Wanshan and the unfolding auction.
Zuo Wuji exhibited an air of nonchalance, his demeanor composed, while Lan Langlang betrayed signs of nervousness. His head had healed entirely; though his hair had yet to fully regrow, it appeared far healthier than its previous state. His bearing now exuded a sense of pride befitting a scion of a respectable family, marking a notable transformation.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, Bing Xinyue and Wenren Chuchu occupied their seats in quietude. Both harbored distinct expectations for the auction. However, Wenren Chuchu refrained from adopting the ostentatious demeanor she had previously displayed. Instead, they sat in contemplative silence, patiently awaiting the unfolding events.
While Bing Xinyue maintained her composure, the expressions on the faces of Wenren Chuchu, Zuo Wuji, Lan Langlang, and the three princes spoke of fear and apprehension.
They found themselves in an unfamiliar terrain, one that defied their preconceived notions about the martial world.
In their minds, the martial world was a realm populated by martial art cultivators, individuals they often regarded as lacking in education and culture. These cultivators, as they had believed, were divided into various factions, each vying for petty gains and engaged in deadly skirmishes.
The prevailing sentiment among these royal figures was one of condescension. They held a perception that martial cultivators were unsophisticated and lacked intellectual depth. They viewed them as easy recruits, individuals who could be enticed with promises of rewards and power.
According to conventional wisdom, those skilled in martial arts could be harnessed for the benefit of the royal family. By offering them a glimmer of hope and the prospect of being rewarded, they could be swayed to serve with unwavering loyalty, akin to bees flocking to honey.
Such beliefs were deeply ingrained in their understanding of the martial world. They would often pay lip service to martial artists, feigning respect while privately harboring a sense of disdain. To their minds, this perception was justified.
However, they would soon learn that their understanding was only partially accurate. While it held true for some cultivators, many others occupied higher echelons within the martial world. These individuals were driven by motives far more complex and nuanced than mere profit or power. They were a stark contrast to the lower-ranked cultivators who readily aligned themselves with those in positions of wealth and influence.
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