Chapter Thirty-Three: Bei Minglie's Intentions

Within the Falling Clouds Pavilion.

Faced with the dazzling array of techniques before him, lined up in an endless row like a river of stars, Huang Huifeng stood utterly dumbfounded.

As the steward of the Falling Clouds Pavilion, he could be considered the most powerful man in Falling Clouds City after the city lord himself, boasting cultivation at the first stage of Golden Core. With such prowess, he would already qualify as the master of a sect among smaller factions, and even in the Weime Sect, he could secure a place as an elder. He always prided himself on his broad experience.

Yet, for all that, he found himself utterly speechless at the sight before him.

Never in his life had he witnessed so many techniques gathered in one place!

The spiritual energy radiating from those scrolls was so dense it was nearly tangible, washing over him in waves.

A cursory glance revealed at least a hundred volumes!

To produce more than a hundred techniques at once—what kind of audacity did that require?

Huang Huifeng was shaken to his very core, all the more so because Wang Ran’s expression remained calm and detached, as if such a display were of little consequence. This only deepened Huang Huifeng’s awe at the mystery and power concealed here.

His voice trembling, he finally spoke, “Senior, are all these techniques for sale?”

Wang Ran lifted his teacup, took a measured sip, and replied, “Indeed. Though there are many, most are merely two- or three-star introductory techniques. I wonder if your pavilion can handle them?”

At these words, Huang Huifeng stroked his chin thoughtfully. “If they’re only two- or three-star, we should be able to manage.”

“Very well, let’s take inventory.”

As soon as Wang Ran finished speaking, the floating scrolls arranged themselves neatly in the air. Wang Ran casually reached for one, glanced at it, and read aloud, “Three-star technique, ‘Secret Arrow Art’.”

He then handed the scroll to Huang Huifeng, who examined it closely before commenting, “Correct, it is indeed a three-star technique—quite a practical one at that, suited for combat. According to current market prices, it’s worth about five hundred spirit jades. However, as Senior Chen is an honored guest of the city, we’re willing to offer six hundred. Would that be acceptable?”

The price of a technique varied greatly depending on its type and power. The ‘Secret Arrow Art’ was worth no more than five hundred spirit jades; six hundred was generous.

Wang Ran nodded his assent without objection.

Thereafter, the pair went through the rest of the techniques, listing and negotiating prices for each. Huang Huifeng exercised great restraint, doing most of the talking while Wang Ran listened.

When the pricing of all two- and three-star techniques was complete, fewer than ten remained—each above four stars, with two five-star volumes and one six-star.

Wang Ran picked up the six-star technique, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He hadn’t realized, during his time in the underground ruins, that such a high-level technique was among his finds.

As his gaze swept over the scroll, spiritual energy surged forth, forming an introduction in his mind:

Six-Star Technique—“Righteous Qi Sutra”!

Heaven and earth nurture energy for the life of all things. Humans, too, possess qi—a clear conscience and upright spirit, known as righteous qi, enduring through the ages.

This method does not cultivate spiritual power or the body, but only qi itself. When fully mastered, qi can be projected outward with force enough to move mountains and overturn seas.

The “Righteous Qi Sutra” comprises two sets of incantations: upper and lower. Their power is equal, but when one who practices the lower encounters the upper, they are as a minister before a king—rendered powerless.

There can be only one practitioner of the upper incantation, but the lower can be learned by countless others. Its value in military use is extraordinary.

Under the lead of the upper practitioner, the others can combine their power to unleash the battle art “Song of Righteous Might,” whose strength depends on the number of participants.

If a hundred Foundation Establishment cultivators release the “Song of Righteous Might” together, its force rivals the full-strength strike of a Nascent Soul expert.

The introduction went on at length, leaving Wang Ran profoundly shaken.

Could such a wondrous technique truly exist in this world?

If the description was accurate, a mere six-star rating was an understatement; even eight stars would not be excessive!

This was, after all, a true technique for cultivating qi itself!

Much like Wang Ran’s Dominant Aura, the “Righteous Qi Sutra” allowed one to project their presence to intimidate or slay enemies, but it also permitted joint cultivation—the more practitioners, the greater the power.

His heart skipped a beat. Ignoring Huang Huifeng’s puzzled gaze, he discreetly put away the scroll, betraying no emotion.

He then gestured to the remaining four- and five-star volumes. “These shall all be sold. Name your price.”

Huang Huifeng hesitated, stroking his chin. “Senior Chen, for these mid-tier techniques, I suggest you consign them to the auction. They’ll fetch a much higher price there than through a private sale.”

Wang Ran considered this and nodded in agreement.

With the auction imminent, Huang Huifeng calculated the total value of the previously priced techniques—over fifty thousand spirit jades, a sum that would take Falling Clouds City two years to accumulate.

But how could Huang Huifeng dare hold back? He respectfully offered the spirit jades with both hands.

Wang Ran, though outwardly composed, was inwardly soaring with joy.

Over fifty thousand spirit jades!

For Wang Ran, who had once received only fifteen jades a year, this was a fortune beyond imagination.

Fate is fickle; in just a few months, those fifteen jades meant nothing to him.

Collecting himself, he and Huang Huifeng left the inner chamber together, making their way upstairs to where the auction would be held.

As they went, Huang Huifeng adopted an exceedingly deferential manner, their relative status plain for all to see. Many onlookers turned to stare, and seeing the steward’s obsequiousness, knew this mysterious cultivator must be a figure of great importance. None dared approach to cause trouble.

Ascending to the second floor, they entered a vast, circular hall already filling with seated cultivators.

Wang Ran would not, of course, sit with the common crowd. Huang Huifeng led him to a private box on the third tier, overlooking the entire auction hall.

After handing Wang Ran a numbered token, Huang Huifeng excused himself—he had many other duties to attend to.

Wang Ran took no offense. Seated, he idly toyed with the token, surveying the surroundings.

His gaze paused as he spotted a familiar figure in the private box opposite—Ye Cang.

But Wang Ran quickly suppressed his momentary emotional stir, masking it with a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he shifted his gaze away from Ye Cang.

By now, the auction was nearly ready to begin. The seats below were filled.

As Wang Ran waited quietly, a figure suddenly approached from nearby, moving with a certain awkwardness and deference. He came to stand before Wang Ran.

“Senior Chen, I am Beiming Lie of the Weime Sect. I was discourteous at the city gate earlier and have come to apologize. I hope you will not take offense.”

With that, Beiming Lie bowed deeply, his humility so apparent that Wang Ran was momentarily taken aback.