The pier was bustling with people, cultivators who hadn't managed to buy boat tickets pounding their chests in frustration.
The great crimson ship from the Golden Palace cut through the waves, filled with eager, high-spirited guests.
At the bow, a large gold-and-red banner fluttered in the sea breeze, embroidered with a wide-mouthed Pixiu beast that resembled a blazing flame under the setting sun.
Most territories under the Evil Buddha flew similar banners.
The Golden Palace was a place of immense wealth and entertainment, welcoming all guests and in principle avoiding bloodshed, hence the display of auspicious beast flags.
The heretical practitioners along the Western Sea coast understood this rule well—if the banner featured auspicious mythical beasts like "Pixiu" or "Vermilion Bird," it signified the Evil Buddha's business establishments.
These markets, shops, taverns, and pleasure houses generally maintained good order, as they had powerful backing, and no one dared cause trouble.
If the banner depicted fierce beasts like "Taotie" or "Tengshe," it marked Meng Zhengxian's temporary residence or palace, best avoided from afar to prevent a misstep that could anger the Lord of the heretical path and needlessly cost one's life.
Song Qianji leaped onto the deck, his toes skimming the waves, only to be surrounded by a group of sailors.
"Your ticket!" the leader demanded.
Song Qianji produced a pouch of Spirit Stones. "No ticket. I'll pay for one now."
"Do you even know the rules? Where are you from?"
Cultivators on the deck watched with schadenfreude, expecting him to be thrown overboard.
Song Qianji withdrew the Spirit Stone pouch and raised his sword. "No sect, no school. I am Song Qianji, a Rogue Cultivator."
"You're Song Qianji?" The leader paled in shock. "Three days ago, you killed two Huawel Sect elders on the Western Sea coast. Instead of fleeing for your life, you dare show your face?"
Song Qianji thought, So it was around this time. No wonder I'm here, covered in wounds.
He had been hunted relentlessly, fighting desperately and barely winning by a narrow margin. To salvage their reputation and uphold their righteous image, the Huawel Sect had painted him as ruthless, cunning, and vicious.
"I did kill them..."
Before Song Qianji could finish, someone in the crowd shouted:
"He's the number one under the Nascent Soul realm, undefeated beneath the Golden Core!"
Song Qianji said, "I never claimed that..."
Again, he was cut off as the cultivators erupted into chaos, scattering like startled birds.
Those skilled in Sword Kinesis Flight summoned their Flying Swords, while water-adepts dove into the sea.
The water splashed and churned as if dumplings were being tossed into a pot.
Song Qianji thought, Seriously? You all dared board the Evil Buddha's ship, but you jump into the sea at the sight of me?
Is that really necessary?
The ship's leader, feeling embarrassed, shouted loudly, "Hey, why is everyone jumping? This is the Golden Palace's ship! Even Song Qianji wouldn't dare kill anyone on board!"
While he was shouting, the fastest water-adepts had already swum back to shore, spitting out seawater as they turned:
"Do you even believe that yourself! The moon will be full again next year, but you only have one life!"
The leader yelled at the sky, "He's taking this ship to the Golden Palace—he must be seeking refuge with the Evil Buddha!"
A Sword Kinesis Flight cultivator retorted, "Or he might be going to kill the Evil Buddha! He used to be an assassin. What if we're mistaken for accomplices if we share the ship with him!"
A flock of white seagulls, startled by the sword energy, scattered in all directions, mirroring the cultivators fleeing the red ship.
Song Qianji felt a twinge of apology. "Sorry, my reputation hasn't been great lately."
In his past life, there was no Thousand Canals, no Northern Desert, no small Huawel Sect.
A Rogue Cultivator born of mortal origins trying to survive in this world could never have a good reputation, but his was exceptionally bad.
He still held his sword, and the sailors instinctively kept their distance. The leader took two steps back and cautiously probed."If you were an assassin, of course you'd hide your identity. You wouldn't come openly, right? So you're not an assassin, are you?"
Song Qianji: "I'm not."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"What are you going to the Golden Palace for? To the gambling den or to attend the auction?"
"To see the Evil Buddha," Song Qianji stated bluntly.
The sailors looked at him as if he were mad and stopped talking to him.
The rest of the journey was quiet.
The sunset gradually sank below the horizon, night fell, and the bright moon rose.
Countless lamps lit up the floating island, making it look like a giant golden sphere from afar, dazzling and brilliant, turning half the dark sea golden.
Innumerable red boats, large and small, rushed toward the floating island from all directions like sharks drawn to blood.
Wealthy guests on the ships drank, sang loudly, and laughed heartily, eagerly preparing for a wonderful night.
Only Song Qianji was on his ship, making it unusually quiet.
"From the moment I boarded and revealed my identity, Meng Heze should have known I was coming. Yet he didn't send his trusted followers to capture me? Is he really not afraid I'm here to kill him?"
Large ships docked one after another, and well-trained servants greeted batches of guests as they disembarked and stepped onto the island.
A manager-like cultivator smiled warmly:
"The auction will begin in half an hour. The pawnshop on the island offers fair prices, and you can even borrow money if you're short. Enjoy your night, everyone. This gentleman Song..." He turned to Song Qianji, seemingly worried about causing alarm and changed his address, "Young Master Song, this is the invitation to the 'Red Dust Sanctuary' auction."
"Is the Evil Buddha at the auction?" Song Qianji turned to look.
The island's terrain was low on all sides and high in the middle, with the "Red Dust Sanctuary" located at the highest central point. From afar, no tall buildings or palaces were visible, only a Teng Snake banner.
"Of course he is," the manager replied, then immediately bowed and took his leave, as if afraid Song Qianji would ask more questions.
Song Qianji declined offers from those around him to trade the invitation at high prices and hurried to the auction venue amid envious gazes.
The sea breeze was salty, but the island was maintained by formations, filling the air with a sweet scent mingled with the aromas of wine and cosmetics.
The streets were paved with a special stone—thick black rock veined with gold threads. Under the glow of the lavish lanterns lining the streets, it looked as if the ground was sprinkled with gold dust.
Some people wore bamboo hats, others hoods, while some flaunted their true faces openly. Unlike the eerie and gloomy atmosphere of a typical evil domain, it was even more bustling and lively than Hua Wei City.
Someone in a high building, drunk, tossed Spirit Stones downward, causing a scramble among the crowd.
Song Qianji dodged embroidered handkerchiefs and scented pouches thrown from above, avoided the red veils floating in the streets, and sidestepped those blocking his path. At first, he found it strange and awkward—even when he lived next to a brothel with Lin Feiyuan, he had never encountered such overt flirtation. The Golden Palace was indeed liberal in its customs.
He soon relaxed, adopting a laid-back mindset: "Alright, Meng Heze, let's see what other tricks you've got up your sleeve."
The Red Dust Sanctuary, though called a sanctuary, was actually a palace. The outer palace hosted guests and banquets, while the inner palace served as the Evil Buddha's residence.
Song Qianji presented his invitation and was ushered into the auction venue by the guards.
Unlike most auction houses, which were small buildings, this magnificent structure resembled a circular arena.
The first three floors were general seating, while the levels above featured private booths, all protected by formations to prevent spying.
"Which room is the Evil Buddha in?" Song Qianji asked a tea-serving maid beside him.
The maid turned pale with fear, trembling all over: "Young master, please don't joke!"
"No one knows?"
"Of course not!"Song Qianji surveyed his surroundings, noticing that while the guests appeared relaxed and chatting casually, the security was actually tight with Golden Palace cultivators patrolling vigilantly everywhere.
The auction participants included both heretical path cultivators known for their rampant killings and flamboyant actions, as well as disguised elders from major sects and esteemed guests from powerful families.
If chaos broke out here, it would inevitably trigger conflicts and a full-scale brawl among all parties.
A bell chimed, silencing the hall.
The auctioneer announced loudly: "The first item up for bid—a high-grade dragon-scale protective armor! Starting bid: three thousand Spirit Stones!"
Song Qianji thought to himself, What a spendthrift. Starting with a high-grade defensive Magical Artifact right away—I wonder what you’ll save for the finale.
He suppressed his aura and stealthily moved forward, aided by Talismans.
"Did someone just flash past? Was it the wind?"
"Never mind the wind—notify the fourth floor to increase patrols!"
"The first item sold for thirty thousand Spirit Stones!"
Amid the murmurs in the hall, Song Qianji reached the fourth floor and fixed his gaze on a group near the staircase.
The woman leading the group had modest cultivation, but she was followed by three Golden Core attendants and over a dozen servants.
She was strikingly beautiful, dressed in a wide-sleeved golden peony gown. With a swirl of her skirt, she pushed open a door at the end of the corridor.
Heaven helps me, Song Qianji thought.
After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, everyone in the room lay scattered on the floor. Song Qianji pressed his sword against the beauty’s neck: "Don’t move. Take me to see the Evil Buddha."
Guards outside called, "There’s noise inside—is Madam alright?"
The beauty replied loudly, "I’m changing clothes."
The guards hastily retreated.
The beauty turned her head, glaring coldly at Song Qianji. "Do you know who I am?"
Song Qianji thought for a moment. "Jin Tao Furen?"
The beauty suddenly laughed. "It seems this young master isn’t very familiar with the Golden Palace. This humble one is Golden Hairpin Madam, not Jin Tao."
Under the Lord of the heretical path were countless demons, but four held the highest status.
The Right Protector Jin Lu oversaw the Hall of Punishment, while the Left Protector Golden Blades was his most loyal guard and assassin.
Jin Tao Furen was his most favored concubine, often kept by his side.
Golden Hairpin Madam, however, was the chief steward of the Golden Den, managing the Evil Buddha’s numerous enterprises.
Song Qianji apologized, "My mistake. I’m looking for the Evil Buddha—where is he?"
"You’ve come uninvited, young master. May I ask your esteemed name?"
"Song Qianji."
Golden Hairpin Madam’s expression shifted. "You’re Song Qianji?"
Song Qianji growled, "Since you know I’m Song Qianji, hurry up and tell me where the Evil Buddha is! Or else, watch your— Hey, you!"
To his shock, Golden Hairpin Madam straightened her neck and lunged toward his sword tip. Had he retracted it a moment slower, blood would have splattered everywhere.
"What are you doing?!" Song Qianji swiftly struck her with a immobilization Talisman.
Golden Hairpin Madam smiled bitterly. "Just kill me. I won’t live past tonight anyway."
Song Qianji said coldly, "Nonsense!"
"I sincerely wish to die. I beg you, young master, grant me this."
"Why seek death?"
"All of us under the Evil Buddha have been implanted with gu by Jin Lu. Our lives aren’t our own—we can’t even self-destruct or end ourselves. If you kill me tonight, you’d be doing me a favor! For such great kindness, I’ll repay you in the next life!"
Song Qianji thought, If you die, who will take me to Meng Heze? "What could be so dire that you must die?"
As he spoke, cheers erupted outside the window—the auction’s intermission song and dance performance had begun.
Hearing the joyful music, Golden Hairpin Madam listened as if to a funeral bell, her expression growing even more sorrowful."Tonight's finale auction item is an exceptionally rare spiritual plant known as the Seven-Colored Glazed Treasure Lotus. This lotus is a supreme alchemy ingredient that can reconnect severed meridians and even help cultivators below the Nascent Soul realm break through their current stage. Such a precious treasure naturally required my personal care, nourishing it day and night with sweet dew."
Song Qianji nodded: "Flowers and plants are delicate indeed, they truly deserve careful tending."
"Before you entered, I was watering it with sweet dew. Your sudden appearance startled me, and in my panic, I knocked off one of its petals. With the lotus missing a petal, its medicinal efficacy is greatly diminished. Without tonight's finale item, how could I possibly survive?"
Golden Hairpin Madam's intricate wide sleeves were spread across the table. Song Qianji lifted them to see a shattered glazed bowl beneath.
The jade pot had overturned, the treasure lotus damaged.
While Song Qianji cared little about the spiritual plant's value, he deeply understood the anguish of "damaged petals." His tone softened:
"This was originally my fault. You merely made an unintentional mistake. Don't cry now - we can simply find another item from the Evil Buddha's treasury to serve as replacement."
As he spoke, he removed the immobilization talisman.
"You're actually apologizing?" Golden Hairpin Madam stared at him in astonishment. "So Song Qianji can apologize?"
"Time is urgent. Where is the treasury?"
"You may not be aware, Young Master Song, but with all the mixed company tonight, the treasury has been closed as a precaution. The key remains with the Evil Buddha." Golden Hairpin Madam smiled despairingly, two trails of tears streaming down as she again threw herself toward the sword tip. "I'd rather die now than suffer in the Hall of Punishment, where life would be worse than death!"
"Why must it come to this? There must be another way!"
Song Qianji thought this troublesome - she was actually crying, and over a damaged flower no less.
"Does Young Master Song possess some extraordinary treasure?"
"I do not."
"Then what other solution could there be?!"
Song Qianji looked around before pointing at himself: "Am I not here?"
The auction featured not only bidding from various parties but also performances of water-sleeve dances and beast taming shows. As the night deepened, the atmosphere grew more excited, satisfying the audience's visual appetite while keeping them in suspense until the finale item finally made its much-anticipated appearance.
"Honored guests, the next item is tonight's finale treasure - unique between heaven and earth. Anyone who lays eyes upon it cannot help but adore it; anyone who possesses it would never wish to lose it—"
Spectators on the first and second floors widened their eyes, ready to feast their sight.
The wealthy guests on the third floor impatiently urged: "Enough!"
"Begin quickly! We can't wait any longer!"
"Whoosh!"
The black curtain lifted, eight blinding beams of light illuminating the central stage as bright as daylight.
Upon the pure gold carved lotus pedestal stood not any magical artifact or treasure, but a single person.
A man holding a sword.
"Ah! Why is it a person?"
"Who is this man?!"
Song Qianji blinked against the suddenly bright lights.
The surrounding clamor resembled roaring ocean waves, the hall filled with distinguished guests.
At his appearance, the noise abruptly ceased into complete silence.
Until a window in the southwest corner of the top floor creaked slightly, opening halfway as a soft, enchanting woman's voice descended:
"I bid one hundred thousand Spirit Stones!"
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