Tarot folded his arms. “Even if you have more on hand, you might not be able to keep it. Try not to blow through everything on impulse.”

  “I won’t,” Gerald said quickly. “This time, I’m only here for the Blood Qi Pill. I’m not spending a single coin recklessly.”

  When Tarot still hesitated, Gerald added solemnly, “Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back as soon as the annual donations from the regional branches come in.”

  Lauren could barely hide her surprise. Wait, what? The Sect Leader is borrowing money?

  “How much do you need?” Tarot finally asked.

  Gerald lifted a hand casually. “Ten million spirit stones for now.”

  Lauren blinked. Ten million? That sounded like a fortune—but in the cultivation world, that usually meant low-grade spirit stones.

  Without saying a word, Tarot pulled out three storage bags and handed them over.

  Gerald took them, smiling. “Huh? Why are they all low-grade?”

  “Of course,” Tarot replied matter-of-factly. “I saved those through frugality and self-discipline. You’d better pay me back on time. If you don’t return them by next year, I’ll start charging three percent interest. And if you’re te again, I’ll accept your treasures as colteral.”

  Gerald’s smile stiffened. This stingy bastard’s actually charging me interest.

  He gred at Tarot, thinking sourly, You? Frugal? Please. You’re managing Uncle-Master’s businesses—you’re swimming in spirit stones.

  Out loud, he only said, “Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back soon enough.”

  After a few polite words, he left.

  As soon as the door closed, Lauren turned to Tarot, curiosity shining in her eyes. “How can the Sect Leader be so poor? Even if he doesn’t use sect funds, shouldn’t he have a decent personal stash by now?”

  Tarot made sure Gerald was out of earshot before lowering his voice. “It’s not that he doesn’t have wealth—it’s that he doesn’t keep it. He hoards treasures instead. He’s basically a collector. Every time he saves enough spirit stones, he buys another rare item.”

  Lauren blinked. “Treasures?”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard he owns hundreds of Spirit Treasures. Rare artifacts, exotic items—you name it. It’s ridiculous.”

  Lauren couldn’t help a small ugh. “So the Sect Leader isn’t poor. He’s just... illiquid.”

  Tarot rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing mischievously. “If he doesn’t pay me back, though... hehe.”

  Lauren sighed. Right. So he’s stingy and vindictive. Figures.

  .......

  The day before the first auction, the auction house sent out a list of items.

  Each event would feature ten lots per day, running for three days straight.

  Auctions were categorized by frequency—annual, decadal, centennial, and millennial. The rarer the auction, the more outrageous the treasures.

  This ten-year event, naturally, was packed with big-ticket items.

  For each day’s auction, the first nine items were revealed in advance, while the final one—the mysterious “grand finale”—remained secret until it appeared onstage.

  Lauren flipped through the list. Alongside advanced techniques and top-grade Spirit Treasures were rare elixirs, high-level beast cores, and heavenly materials nearly impossible to find elsewhere.

  The Blood Qi Pill wasn’t among the revealed lots, which confirmed her suspicion—it must be the mystery item on the final day.

  As she scanned the list again, something else caught her attention.

  “The Earth Core Ice Lotus...” she murmured.

  Tarot gnced over her shoulder. “That’s the ninth item in the first auction. Expensive as hell. You got that kind of money?”

  Lauren thought of what Drake had told her before she left Starfell Summit. “Master said if I see something I like, I should buy it. And if I don’t have enough spirit stones... I should ask you.”

  Tarot gave her a long look. “...”

  Then he sighed. “Fine. I’ll buy it for you.”

  Lauren grinned. “Good! Oh, and I want this too.”

  Tarot squinted at the next item on her list. “An Appearance-Stabilizing Pill? What do you need that for? You’re twenty. Cultivate properly and extend your lifespan—aging won’t even be a concern. Look at Master; he’s still got the face of a man in his thirties.”

  Lauren crossed her arms. “This isn’t about vanity. There’s no known recipe for that pill on our continent. If it’s appearing here, it must’ve come from a secret realm. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

  Tarot gave her a resigned look. “...Fine. Whatever you say.”

  “I want the Eternal Spirit Milk too.”

  Tarot gnced over the description, brows raising. “One drop instantly restores all spiritual energy. Ten drops per bottle? Yeah, that’s good stuff. But honestly, it’d be wasted on you. Better to buy it and gift it to Master.”

  Lauren nodded immediately. “That’s exactly what I was pnning to do—buy it and give it to Master.”

  Tarot gave her a ft look. “You’re using Master’s spirit stones to buy something to give back to Master. You’re a real financial genius, you know that?”

  Lauren grinned, unbothered. “Kotobuki Genka. I want one too.”

  “...” Tarot stared at her. “Kotobuki Genka only extends the lifespan of cultivators below the Nascent Soul stage. You’re almost past that threshold. Even if we’re not short on spirit stones, don’t waste them.”

  Lauren pursed her lips and said nothing, but her mind was made up. She’d buy it herself.

  Once she got her hands on the spirit stones from the Blood Qi Pill deal, she’d be swimming in wealth anyway.

  She wasn’t buying it for herself. She’d decided long ago she’d give it to her mother. If her mother could gain even a hundred extra years of life, her chances of reaching the Core Formation stage would rise dramatically.

  In my st life, I owed her too much, Lauren thought silently.

  The auction began before she even realized how much time had passed.

  Lauren and Tarot were seated in one of the private rooms reserved for high-level bidders. The table before them was set with spiritual tea and rare spirit fruit, and beside it floated a crystal mirror projecting the live scene from the auction hall below.

  These private rooms were completely sealed from spiritual sense probing—unless the window was opened, no one could tell who was inside. It was the only way to protect wealthy bidders from unwanted attention... or revenge.

  The first item up for bid was, coincidentally, the Kotobuki Genka.

  Although top cultivators weren’t particurly interested—since it was only effective for those below the Nascent Soul stage—it was still an exotic fruit not found anywhere on the Cultivation Continent. Its rarity alone made it a prize.

  “Kotobuki Genka, starting price: one hundred thousand low-grade spirit stones. Minimum increment: ten thousand.”

  For an opening item, that was practically pocket change.

  Without hesitation, Lauren tossed a pouch of spirit stones into the slot beneath the table.

  The design was ingenious: bidders had to deposit payment immediately through a spirit-stone conduit.

  It served two purposes.

  First, it prevented hot-headed idiots from raising their signs without thinking—after all, it hurt more to throw your money than to just wave your hand.

  Second, it kept shameless big shots from bullying the auction house. Even the most powerful cultivator couldn’t “put it on his tab” if the system didn’t accept credit.