Lot: The Profound Iron Heavy Sword

"Lot 97, 100,000 for the first bid!"

The auctioneer glanced at the modest middle-aged man and An Yi before bringing down the gavel.

Lot 97 belonged to An Yi!

Instantly, sweat beaded on the middle-aged man’s forehead as societal judgment warred with his personal dignity.

Gritting his teeth, he shakily raised his paddle.

"150,000!"

Then, flushing red with embarrassment, he hastily explained, "That friend of mine and I are sworn brothers! Like family! Seeing him unable to carry on his lineage, how could I stand by and do nothing?"

"150,000—any higher bids?"

The auctioneer shot a look at An Yi.

An Yi raised his paddle, teeth clenched. "160,000!"

The Celestial Star Grass was a must-have for him—no way he’d let some uncle snatch it away!

"Sir, I’m a doctor. I can cure your friend a hundred different ways—just let me have this!" An Yi said earnestly.

Ahem!

The auctioneer cleared his throat in warning.

While their auction house wasn’t strict about rules—no need for fancy international bidding protocols—shouting bids across the floor was pushing it.

The middle-aged man clearly wasn’t buying An Yi’s sweet talk and heroically raised his paddle again. "200,000!"

"210,000!" An Yi countered without hesitation.

The auction hall buzzed with murmurs.

The atmosphere grew peculiar.

"Bro, that kid looks so young, yet he’s got that problem."

"Never judge a book by its cover. And here I thought he looked so dignified."

"No wonder he’s not touching that gorgeous woman next to him—there’s a reason!"

Two monks in the back row, voices booming like temple bells, chimed in loudly.

The entire auction hall erupted in laughter.

"Goddammit!"

An Yi’s fists clenched.

Whoosh!

A blade-like surge of energy slashed toward the two monks, sending them scrambling to dodge.

The air blade struck the wall, leaving a deep gash.

The twin monks exchanged glances, realization dawning.

"Shut. Up."

An Yi’s face darkened as he spoke through gritted teeth.

Personally and professionally, he wanted these two idiots gone.

"Uncle, keep bidding," An Yi forced out with a sinister smile.

The middle-aged man stared at the gash in the wall and gulped.

A threat—blatant and brutal!

Sweat poured down his face as he waved his hands. "N-no, young man… you’re still young. It’s all yours."

An Yi: "..."

The auctioneer’s gavel fell. "210,000, going once… 210,000, going twice—"

"250,000!"

"300,000!"

Two voices rang out simultaneously across the hall.

One belonged to Zhang Fan.

The other—Chen Bing.

An Yi frowned, scanning the room.

Well, well.

All familiar faces!

What were they doing fighting over Celestial Star Grass? Were they both impotent too?!

Elderly onlookers wiped away tears, already drafting their social media posts:

"What is wrong with the youth today? How will our great nation rise with a generation like this?!"

Seeing three able-bodied young men brawl over a remedy for impotence, some began to suspect foul play.

Three men in their prime, all with the same condition? Unlikely.

Could the Celestial Star Grass have other uses?

Zhang Fan’s gaze turned icy.

With his Poison Master System, his medical expertise was formidable. He knew the grass wasn’t just for impotence—it had potent healing properties.

In his hands, it could be refined into a deadly toxin.

Chen Bing’s reason was simpler.

Through countless cycles of rebirth, he knew the Celestial Star Grass was a miracle cure. If its true value were known, its price would triple overnight.

Might as well invest while it’s cheap!

"350,000!"

Boss Nie pondered, then raised his paddle.

The mixed-race beauty beside him blinked in surprise. "Boss, you’re plenty… vigorous. Why bid on this?"

"Just curious," Boss Nie replied mildly.

Even he was competing? The crowd finally grasped that the Celestial Star Grass must be extraordinary.

After all, Boss Nie was infamous for his… appetites. No way he had performance issues!

"400,000."

An Yi cut to the chase, tone indifferent.

Zhang Fan’s cold stare bore into him.

He lifted his paddle—then, after a hesitation, lowered it.

Money meant nothing to him, so he carried little. No funds to compete.

Boss Nie arched a brow at An Yi.

If it were anyone else, he’d fight to the last penny. But for An Yi…

Fine.

His paddle, half-raised, slowly lowered.

"400,000, going once… 400,000, going twice… 400,000—sold! Congratulations to our VIP in Lot 97!"

The gavel struck.

An Yi exhaled in relief.

400,000—lower than he’d expected. He’d been prepared to go up to a million.

"Mission accomplished. Should we leave?" An Yi asked Yan Zhi beside him.

Yan Zhi’s delicate brows furrowed. "Don’t you feel it? Tonight’s unusual. There might be something big coming."

An Yi shrugged. "I know. But with so many prepared players here, no point in sticking our noses in."

Yan Zhi's expression was brimming with curiosity as she said excitedly, "We finally made it to Yunzhou City, and with nothing urgent to do, why not indulge our eyes a little?"

"Alright, let's take a look then," An Yi replied, yawning lazily.

To be honest, the so-called treasures of this world didn’t interest him in the slightest.

In his realm, they were nothing more than worthless junk no one would even glance at.

The auction continued.

One after another, items were brought up on stage, only to be taken down shortly after.

But those seated in the VIP sections hardly made a move.

It was as if they were all silently waiting for something.

"Next up, we present to you—a sword!" the auctioneer announced, clapping his hands.

Several burly men then carried an enormous black iron greatsword onto the stage.

The crowd erupted in murmurs!

The sword was indeed massive—and incredibly battered!

But surely it couldn’t be that heavy, could it?

Four grown men struggled just to lift it!

And not only was the sword broken—its tip looked as though it had been snapped clean off!

Thud!

When the greatsword was set down, the impact cracked the auction house’s floor tiles.

The auctioneer frowned at the sight.

"This sword was retrieved by a martial artist from the ruins outside the Nine Star Palace. It is extraordinarily heavy, and according to expert analysis, dates back a thousand years. Starting bid—5 million! Each subsequent bid must increase by at least 200,000. If no one else bids after three calls, the item will be sold!"

After finishing his announcement, the auctioneer nearly laughed at the absurdity.

Even if this sword were an antique, it wouldn’t be worth that much! And a mere thousand-year-old relic? It was too damaged to have any collectible value!

A broken, oversized, ridiculously heavy sword with a starting price of 5 million—what idiot would buy it?

"5 million!"

A clear, composed voice rang out.

It was An Yi.