Heavenly Spirit Merchant Association

Hao Nhien raised the ball of flame in his left hand higher. Orange-gold light spread outward, gradually pulling more of the space ahead out of the darkness and making him pause for a moment.

It was an ancient auction hall.

The lower level was built in a semicircle, with a raised platform of polished black stone at the center. A very thin layer of dust covered the platform, yet its surface was still almost mirror-smooth. Spiraling flame patterns were carved around its edges, winding together into several interlocking circles. If Hao Nhien's guess was correct, this had once been the place where auction items were displayed for those below to inspect and bid on.

Rows of wooden seats surrounded the platform in sweeping arcs, rising from the lower levels to the higher ones, enough to accommodate thousands of people. Most of the seats were still in their original positions. Small runes that had long lost their spiritual glow remained on the armrests, while the backs were carved with patterns of flames, clouds, and spirit beasts. A few small jade plaques were still attached near the ends of the seats, perhaps once used to mark seating numbers or transmit information during auctions.

What drew Hao Nhien's attention most was how orderly the entire hall remained. No seats had been overturned, no objects lay scattered across the floor, and there were no signs of a desperate evacuation or looting. The way everything had been left behind gave him the impression that the final auction held here had ended relatively normally, after which those in charge had enough time to clear away what needed to be taken before sealing the place.

Above the first floor ran a circular second-floor corridor. Behind the black stone railing were private rooms reserved for distinguished guests, each with a dark red wooden door and a transparent, glass-like material at the front. Only after examining it closely did Hao Nhien notice countless tiny runic lines woven through the material. They had likely once been used to block sound and spiritual awareness, allowing those inside to observe the auction hall without being easily detected from outside.

His gaze then shifted toward the great wall behind the auction platform.

At the highest point was a line of ancient characters that had lost most of their spiritual radiance, though the firelight still drew out a faint red sheen from the strokes. Hao Nhien studied them for a long time, comparing them with ancient characters he had encountered before, and finally managed to read them.

"Heavenly Spirit Merchant Association."

He repeated the name silently.

If this place was merely one establishment belonging to a greater power, then the name behind it was very likely Heavenly Spirit. Judging from the scale of the hall, the structure of the private rooms, and the formation patterns that still remained, Hao Nhien could already tell that this had once been far more than a minor trading venue.

He stepped into the hall. The sound of his boots struck the stone floor and echoed back from the high dome above, making the vast space feel even emptier. Only a few old scrolls remained near the edge of a side table on the raised platform. Hao Nhien checked them with his spiritual awareness before touching them, but most of the writing had faded away, leaving only a few markings that resembled prices and item names, too incomplete to piece together into anything meaningful.

He did not waste much time there and followed the stone staircase up to the second floor.

Most of the private rooms had been preserved in much the same condition. Tea tables, chairs upholstered in spirit beast hide, and faded silk curtains still retained their shape, while nearly everything of obvious value had already been removed. After checking two or three rooms, Hao Nhien stopped opening them one by one. Their uniform condition only strengthened his suspicion that the place had been deliberately cleared out before it was sealed.

At the end of the second-floor corridor stood a door larger and thicker than all the others. Its dark wood gleamed faintly, and intricate Fire-attributed runes covered its surface, though only the faintest traces of spiritual light remained. Hao Nhien first touched the edge of the door lightly with the Tieu Dao Sword. Only after confirming that there was no reaction did he reach out and push.

The door slowly opened.

Inside was a spacious administrative chamber with tall wooden cabinets lining the walls, a long table at the center, and a main seat facing the entrance. The surrounding shelves were empty, but there were no signs of damage or hurried searching. Whoever had left this place last seemed to have taken nearly everything necessary with them in an orderly manner.

Hao Nhien walked slowly through the room as the firelight swept across one empty cabinet after another. He could not help feeling a little regret. If even a few intact items had remained in an auction house of this scale, they would likely have been worth a considerable amount.

But he quickly suppressed the thought.

A place that had been cleared this thoroughly would not have left anything behind simply because someone had forgotten it.

At that moment, the firelight reached the far wall.

Hao Nhien stopped.

A large painting hung there, its colors faded by time. Because it had been preserved inside a sealed room, most of the image was still clear enough to make out. It depicted a battle across a crimson desert, black smoke covering the distance while countless figures fought amid a sea of fire.

At the center stood a man in red battle armor.

His back faced the viewer, both feet planted firmly amid burning sand, while he drew an enormous bow. The bow curved like a crescent of flame, its two ends slightly hooked backward, with distinctive patterns running along the body.

Hao Nhien's expression changed at once.

Its shape was very similar to the ancient bow he had once seen at the auction house outside Thanh Van City. That bow had been worn down by time, but the shape of its two ends and the distinctive patterns along its body were nearly impossible to mistake. The bow in the painting looked like the intact original form of that very weapon.

Hao Nhien moved closer to the painting.

The more he looked at the bow, the more familiar it seemed. He began examining the smallest details along the bow's body, the bowstring, and the position of the man's hand. After a while, Hao Nhien's gaze stopped on the arrow.

At first glance, it blended perfectly into the painting. The black shaft, the sheen along its surface, and even the shadow it cast across the bowstring had all been rendered so precisely that anyone looking casually would have assumed it was simply part of the artwork. Yet the longer Hao Nhien studied it, the more he felt that something was wrong.

The flame in his hand flickered, but the shadow of the arrow changed just slightly slower than the painted colors around it.

Hao Nhien narrowed his eyes.

He shifted his position, leaned to one side, and raised the flame higher. This time, an extremely thin line of reflected light appeared along the shaft.

It was not pigment.

It was the surface of a real object.

Hao Nhien did not touch it immediately. He swept his spiritual awareness across the painting once more, but most of the spiritual power within had weakened so much that it had nearly blended into the background. Only after focusing specifically on the arrow did he sense an extremely faint fluctuation connecting the shaft to a layer of runes hidden behind the painting.

Only then was Hao Nhien truly certain.

The arrow was not part of the painting. It had been disguised as part of it.

When Hao Nhien reached out and touched it, a piercing chill immediately traveled through his fingers. The material was extremely hard and heavier than it appeared, yet there was a slight elasticity within it that made it impossible for him to determine whether it was metal, bone, or some kind of spirit wood.

Hao Nhien sent a thread of spiritual power into it. The arrow did not resist, but the thin line of spiritual power connecting it to the painting became slightly clearer.

He reached out, pinched the shaft between his fingers, and slowly pulled it free. The moment the arrow left its position on the bowstring, the thin spiritual connection snapped completely, and a faint sound came from behind the painting.

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Hao Nhien immediately stepped back half a pace and raised the Tieu Dao Sword in front of him.

No attack came.

Instead, the large painting slowly split apart at the center. The two halves slid to either side, revealing a narrow passage hidden behind it, just wide enough for one person to pass through.

A stream of extraordinarily pure spiritual qi immediately poured out from within. The concentration was so great that thin strands of white mist appeared near the entrance before quickly dispersing into the administrative chamber.

Hao Nhien looked at the black arrow in his hand, then at the newly revealed passage.

Something left behind in a place that had been cleared so carefully was clearly not there by accident.

He stored the arrow in his storage ring and entered.

The passage was not deep. After only a few steps, Hao Nhien reached a hidden chamber roughly the size of one of the private rooms on the second floor, but the spiritual qi inside was far denser than anywhere else he had been.

Thin wisps of spiritual mist floated through the air. The moment Hao Nhien stepped inside, his meridians reacted naturally, and the spiritual power at Foundation Establishment layer two began circulating faster, absorbing the surrounding spiritual qi little by little.

He did not rush to cultivate. Instead, he raised the ball of flame higher and examined the entire room.

Ancient wooden shelves stood along all four walls, made from some unknown type of spirit wood. Despite the passage of countless years, their structure remained intact. Resting on the shelves were several weapons, a few small jade boxes, several documents made from beast hide, and a number of objects Hao Nhien could not immediately identify.

He checked them first with his spiritual awareness, then approached the row of sandalwood boxes on the lowest shelf.

When he opened the first box, a stream of pure spiritual qi suddenly poured out far faster than Hao Nhien had expected.

Inside were extremely high-quality crystals arranged neatly in rows. Their former glow had almost completely faded, and their surfaces had turned pale gray, but a portion of residual spiritual power still remained deep within them. Over an immense span of time, most of their energy had slowly leaked away, but because the hidden chamber had been almost completely sealed, the spiritual qi had been unable to disperse far and had instead accumulated within the room.

Opening the box disrupted the balance that had existed for who knew how many years.

The spiritual qi still trapped inside immediately rushed out.

Hao Nhien reacted quickly.

With a thought, a small image of the Cosmic Ark appeared beside him. The moment it came into contact with the spreading spiritual qi, the ancient patterns along its body lit up automatically and began absorbing it.

Hao Nhien had seen this reaction before when the Cosmic Ark absorbed three supreme-grade crystals. Realizing that his guess had been correct, he did not hesitate and opened the remaining boxes one after another.

Streams of spiritual qi accumulated over countless years surged out in succession, only to be drawn toward the Cosmic Ark before they could spread beyond the chamber. The ancient patterns along the boat gradually grew brighter, faint red light mingling with traces of gold before settling into a steady glow.

Once all the boxes had been opened, Hao Nhien picked up one of the crystals to examine it. It was lighter than normal and almost hollow inside, with only a faint trace of residual spiritual power remaining.

He squeezed lightly, and the crystal immediately crumbled into gray dust.

A trace of regret passed through Hao Nhien's eyes. If these crystals had still been intact, the boxes before him alone would have represented an enormous fortune. But after so many unknown years, the fact that they still retained even a little energy was already remarkable.

He left the Cosmic Ark to continue absorbing the remaining spiritual qi and turned his attention to the shelf above.

Several ancient books and beast-hide documents rested there.

Hao Nhien selected the nearest one, examined it with his spiritual awareness, and only then touched the edge very lightly.

A crack appeared immediately.

Before he could pull his hand back, the slight vibration traveled through the shelf. The second book cracked, then the third. The documents, which had retained their shape only because they had remained undisturbed for so long, collapsed one after another and turned into fine dust before his eyes.

Hao Nhien stood still.

This time, he had not even had the chance to save the second book.

A single faint disturbance had been enough to bring down all the remaining documents.

The regret he felt now was far stronger than when he had seen the dead crystals. Crystals could be found again, and weapons could be forged again, but records from an age that had already disappeared were different. Once they turned to dust, whatever knowledge they contained might never appear in the world again.

He looked at the layer of dust on the shelf for a moment longer before letting out a soft breath.

"What a pity."

Hao Nhien did not touch what remained and instead moved toward the weapon rack.

Most of the smaller artifacts had lost their spiritual glow or been corroded to the point of being unusable, but several swords had clearly been preserved much better. After inspecting them one by one, he determined that three were still sturdy enough to use, even though much of their spirituality had faded.

Hao Nhien did not necessarily need all of them, but intact weapons from ancient ruins like these could still be brought back for others to use or later serve as materials for refining.

Among the three, one sword caught his attention in particular.

It was shorter than a standard heavy sword, but its blade was broad and its body extremely thick, the entire weapon a dark gray-black. A section of the tip had been chipped away, evidence that it had once endured an extremely powerful impact, yet there were no major cracks along the rest of the blade.

Hao Nhien picked it up. The weight immediately pulled his wrist downward.

It was considerably heavier than the broad sword he had taken from Black Wind.

He adjusted his grip and gave it a testing swing.

His eyes brightened at once.

The chipped tip was originally a flaw, but it had shifted the sword's current center of gravity lower, making it unexpectedly well suited to the way Hao Nhien wanted to use it. It was not suitable for One Sword, nor was it agile enough for the finer variations of the Tieu Dao Sword, but for powerful slashes, suppressing force, or confronting spirit beasts with exceptionally strong bodies, it felt extremely natural in his hands.

The sword he had taken from Black Wind had only ever been a temporary solution.

The weapon before him was also damaged, but its material and durability were clearly superior.

Hao Nhien tested it twice more, then nodded.

"Just in time."

He stored the new heavy sword in his storage ring, then also took the other two usable swords after confirming that neither showed any abnormal fluctuations.

He only gave the remaining smaller objects a preliminary inspection. There was an old black ring, a stone box containing three pale purple jade pieces, a broken metal fragment engraved with Fire-attributed runes, and several other items whose purpose he could not yet identify.

None of them emitted killing intent or showed any obviously dangerous reaction.

Hao Nhien did not try to study them on the spot. He wrapped them separately and temporarily stored them in his storage ring. Whether they held any value could be determined after he left the ruins.

The final shelf held several small jade boxes.

He opened them one by one after checking them with his spiritual awareness. Inside were pills of different colors. Most had lost a significant portion of their medicinal power, but their auras still far exceeded the ordinary Foundation Establishment pills Hao Nhien had encountered before.

He did not recognize their names and had no intention of guessing their effects based only on scent or spiritual qi. Ancient pills of unknown origin were even less suitable for careless use.

He closed each box and stored them in his storage ring. If he later had the chance to show them to Tieu Lan or Phong Van Tu, they would certainly have a better chance of identifying them than he would on his own.

By then, the Cosmic Ark had also absorbed nearly all the spiritual qi that had escaped from the crystal boxes. The light along its body slowly faded.

Hao Nhien temporarily returned it to his Sea of Consciousness and looked around the chamber one final time.

The wooden shelves remained, the boxes containing nearly exhausted crystals were still there, and the shelf that had once held ancient books was now covered only in dust. He had not taken enough to empty the chamber completely, but at least the items that might still be usable were now safely inside his storage ring.

Hao Nhien returned to the entrance.

When he stepped outside, the mechanism behind the painting activated on its own. The two halves slowly closed, and the general in red battle armor once again appeared amid the burning desert, his bow still drawn tight, though the real arrow was now gone from the string.

Hao Nhien stood before the painting for a while.

He still did not know what the arrow was meant for, nor did he understand what connection the ancient bow that had appeared outside Thanh Van City had to the man in the painting or the Heavenly Spirit Merchant Association.

But from this day onward, the two clues were connected.

He had just been about to leave the administrative chamber when his gaze suddenly stopped on the large table at the center.

This had likely once been the seat of the highest-ranking manager in the auction house.

Most of the important items from the shelves and cabinets had already been taken away, while the hidden chamber behind the painting had been concealed behind a separate mechanism. If the last person to leave this place had truly had time to prepare, then not everything they intended to leave behind would necessarily have been placed inside that hidden room.

Hao Nhien walked over to the main seat and sat down.

The position gave him a clear view of the entrance and most of the chamber. If the observation restrictions had once been fully functional, whoever sat here might even have been able to monitor the auction hall outside.

Memories from his old world made Hao Nhien instinctively check the hidden spaces beneath the table and beside the chair. Something well concealed did not always require an elaborate formation or restriction. Sometimes a simple mechanism that emitted no spiritual power was even harder for cultivators relying on spiritual awareness to notice.

His fingertips slowly moved beneath the edge of the table.

Near the right corner, he felt a tiny depression.

Hao Nhien checked it with his spiritual awareness before pressing it.

A soft click sounded.

A small drawer opened beneath the table.

There was no spiritual light and no restriction, only a simple physical mechanism.

Inside was a single letter.

Hao Nhien's expression gradually grew serious.

The envelope was made from a strange pale-yellow material. It resembled neither ordinary paper nor any beast hide he had seen before. Its surface was still smooth and intact, with no rot, no tears, and almost no sign that time had affected it.

The difference was even more striking after he had just watched the ancient books in the hidden chamber collapse into dust from the slightest disturbance.

The best-preserved object was neither a weapon nor a pill.

It was a letter hidden beneath a desk.

Hao Nhien picked it up.

It was almost weightless in his hand, yet the feeling in his heart was heavier than when he had looked upon all the objects in the hidden chamber.

There was no recipient's name written on the envelope, nor any seal.

Hao Nhien remained silent for a moment before opening it along the fold.

Inside was a single sheet of pale-yellow paper. The ink was still black, the strokes sharp yet steady, carrying none of the urgency of something written in panic.

The person who wrote this letter had clearly had time to prepare.

Hao Nhien lowered his eyes to the first line. After reading only a few words, his gaze gradually turned grave.