"Three."
"Four."
"Six."
The numbers rose in calm voices, like people were bidding on a rare herb, not on a living boy's future.
Shen Lu kept his face still.
He forced his breath even.
The flame inside him pulsed warm and restless, as if it disliked being spoken about like an object. Shen Lu pressed that feeling down hard, wrapping it in steady circulation.
Gu Li's hand stayed firm on Shen Lu's sleeve, anchoring him. Stern. Silent. A healer's grip that said: stay in your body.
Pei Xun's paper strips trembled faintly under his sleeve.
Tang Ye's fingers were clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. His fox had gone completely still, eyes bright and cruel, as if memorizing faces to bite later.
Xie Han looked entertained in the most unpleasant way, but Shen Lu could tell he was counting exits, counting guards, counting how fast he could move if the room turned ugly.
Helian Feng stood behind Shen Lu like a shadow of law.
Cold restraint.
Barely.
The auctioneer lifted the lacquered rumor slip slightly, voice smooth. "Six mid-grade. Do I hear seven?"
A pause.
Then a voice from the left, low and amused: "Seven."
The crowd murmured, pleased.
Shen Lu's stomach tightened.
Seven mid-grade spirit stones for a rumor.
Not even for the flame.
For information about it.
Gu Li's voice was barely a breath. "We can't match that."
Pei Xun's tone was dry and sharp. "We don't need to match it. We need to poison it."
Tang Ye swallowed. "Poison… a rumor?"
Pei Xun's eyes didn't move from the platform. "Yes."
Helian Feng's voice cut low. "No tricks that reveal him."
Pei Xun's mouth tightened. "Then we lose."
The auctioneer smiled behind the mask, hearing the room's appetite like music. "Seven mid-grade. Any higher?"
A voice from deeper in the hall answered calmly. "Nine."
Shen Lu's heart lurched.
Nine.
That wasn't casual wealth.
That was a great family.
That was Yaochuan-level money.
Shen Lu felt sweat prickling under his collar.
The flame inside him warmed sharply, sensing fear, and Shen Lu forced it down again until his chest ached.
Helian Feng leaned in slightly, voice meant only for Shen Lu. "Steady."
Shen Lu didn't answer.
If he opened his mouth, he might spit blood or anger.
The auctioneer lifted the slip again. "Nine mid-grade. Going once—"
Pei Xun whispered, "Shen Lu."
Shen Lu's jaw tightened. "What."
Pei Xun's tone was dry but focused. "If we can't buy it, we make it worthless. Let me bid."
Gu Li's grip tightened. "Pei Xun."
Pei Xun didn't look at him. "I can do it without saying names."
Helian Feng's voice was ice. "Explain."
Pei Xun's eyes flicked once toward the ceiling formation array, then back to the platform. "Rumors are sold as 'likely truth.' If the rumor becomes 'likely trap,' the buyers stop bidding. Because buying a trap is bad for business."
Xie Han's smile sharpened. "I like this."
Tang Ye whispered, anxious, "How do we make it a trap."
Pei Xun's lips thinned. "We claim the rumor is bait for a rival faction. We raise the bid once, just enough to make people suspicious. Then we 'leak' a counter-rumor through a plant vendor or attendant outside the hall."
Gu Li's voice was stern. "That's dangerous."
Pei Xun's tone stayed flat. "Everything is dangerous."
Helian Feng didn't speak for a heartbeat.
Then he said, voice low, controlled. "One bid. Nothing more."
Pei Xun's mouth twitched. "Fine."
Shen Lu's pulse hammered.
He didn't like this.
But letting the rumor be bought by someone with nine mid-grade stones meant letting a predator carry his scent home in a bottle.
The auctioneer's voice rolled on. "Nine mid-grade. Going twice—"
A pause.
Pei Xun lifted his hand.
Not high.
Not obvious.
Just enough.
"Ten," Pei Xun said.
The word landed cleanly.
The hall went quiet for a half-breath.
Then the murmuring returned, sharper now.
Ten mid-grade for a rumor?
Either someone was desperate.
Or someone wanted something else.
The auctioneer's masked head tilted. "Ten mid-grade. Interesting. Any higher?"
The voice that had bid nine didn't answer immediately.
Shen Lu felt the silence like a knife at his throat.
Then, calmly: "Eleven."
Pei Xun's eyes narrowed.
Helian Feng's aura tightened behind Shen Lu like lightning caught in a sheath.
Gu Li's hand squeezed Shen Lu's sleeve once, stern warning: don't react.
Shen Lu forced his face still.
The auctioneer's voice purred. "Eleven mid-grade. Going once—"
Pei Xun leaned slightly toward Helian Feng and murmured without moving his lips. "They're committed."
Helian Feng's reply was low and lethal. "Then we stop being the prize."
Shen Lu's throat tightened.
Stop being the prize.
How.
The auctioneer lifted the slip again. "Eleven mid-grade. Going twice—"
Xie Han's voice came soft, almost amused. "Or we let them buy it."
Tang Ye hissed, "What?"
Xie Han's eyes gleamed. "And then we follow the buyer."
Gu Li's stern gaze snapped to him. "No."
Xie Han shrugged. "It's efficient."
Pei Xun's tone was dry. "It's suicidal."
Xie Han smiled. "Same thing."
Helian Feng spoke, cold and final. "We let them buy."
Shen Lu's breath caught.
Gu Li's grip tightened. "Helian Feng—"
Helian Feng didn't look away from the platform. "We can't outbid a great family. We also can't expose Shen Lu by fighting. If they take the rumor, they carry the chain. We cut the chain after it leaves the hall."
Shen Lu's stomach turned.
He understood.
He hated that he understood.
The auctioneer's voice rose slightly, pleased. "Eleven mid-grade. Sold."
A soft chime rang.
An attendant took the lacquered slip and disappeared behind the platform's screen.
The crowd relaxed, disappointed and satisfied in equal measure.
The item was gone.
The rumor had been purchased.
Shen Lu's future had been wrapped and handed to someone with money.
Shen Lu sat very still.
Gu Li's hand finally loosened on his sleeve, but his stern presence stayed close.
Tang Ye's voice was tight. "Who bought it."
Pei Xun's eyes were narrowed, scanning. "The bidder didn't speak from the front. Likely private box. Or voice altered."
Xie Han's smile sharpened. "Good. Now we hunt."
Helian Feng's voice came low, controlled. "We leave when the next item begins. We watch exits. We follow the attendant who carries the slip."
Shen Lu's throat tightened.
His flame pulsed once, warmer, almost eager.
Shen Lu forced it down again.
He would not let it feed on his anger.
Not here.
Not where every spike could be sold.
The auctioneer continued smoothly, as if nothing important had happened. "Next item: a set of contract-laced talismans, verified to bind beasts up to the third stage—"
The crowd stirred again.
Tang Ye went pale.
His fox's ears flattened, tail stiff.
In Shen Lu's mind it hissed, I will kill whoever buys those.
Shen Lu swallowed.
The underworld wasn't only coming for him.
It was a net cast for all of them.
And now they had a buyer to follow.
A chain to cut.
If they didn't get swallowed first.