In the back seat of a BMW 7 Series, Rachel Liu sat with her eyes half-closed.
"Miss, Madam specifically sent me to pick you up and asked me to tell you that you'll need to attend an auction tonight, so please go home and get ready."
The driver glanced at Rachel Liu in the rearview mirror, a hint of gentle affection flickering in his eyes.
He wasn't very old himself—at most in his twenties—and his voice was soft and calm as he spoke.
"Auction?" Rachel Liu was briefly startled, not quite understanding.
"Yes, and the Wang family kid is at the house right now. The Wangs have sent someone over." As he said this, the driver's tone grew a little strange.
"Uh, what's he doing here?"
At the mention of the Wang family kid, Rachel Liu frowned, feeling a headache coming on, her expression shifting slightly.
"He says he's here to play with Second Miss. Now he's got her all tangled up, but Madam hasn't said much about it."
"This auction is rumored to be a big one—supposedly, a real treasure is going up for sale." The driver spoke slowly, enunciating each word.
Somebody in the crowd suddenly shouted, "Ten million!"
A clear voice rang out, stunning everyone present.
The previously nonchalant daoist's expression twitched at the mention of ten million.
All eyes turned to a young man in his twenties, dressed in an Armani sports jacket, his brows furrowed, mood heavy.
"You said, how much?" the daoist asked, a little uncertain.
"Ten million," the young man repeated calmly. "If this Flesh Ganoderma really does what you claim—bringing back the dead and regrowing flesh—then I'll pay ten million."
Evan glanced back at him.
Evan was slightly taken aback when he saw the young man.
"Absolutely! When have I ever lied? Not only can this Flesh Ganoderma bring back the dead and regrow flesh, it can snatch someone straight from King Yama's grasp!" The daoist's face flushed with excitement at the mention of ten million, his hands trembling as he clutched the ganoderma.
His hand holding the Flesh Ganoderma trembled uncontrollably.
"Ten million!"
"Then please come with me, Daoist. If the Flesh Ganoderma works, I'll pay immediately!" the young man said firmly.
"Come, come, come! Thousand-Year Flesh Ganoderma! Just one sniff will prolong your life, one bite cures all diseases! Don't miss your chance!"
On the other side of the street, a middle-aged man in a shabby daoist robe stood waving a pitch-black ganoderma, hawking it at the top of his lungs.
"Flesh Ganoderma?" Evan Lin, hearing the commotion, walked straight over.
"Is this really a Thousand-Year Flesh Ganoderma?"
The daoist's loud hawking quickly drew a crowd, with many onlookers staring in surprise at the massive ganoderma in his hand—easily as thick as a person's arm.
"Of course! I risked my life to harvest this Flesh Ganoderma from three hundred meters down the cliff at the mouth of Qianji Cave, Wudang Mountain!"
"There was even a giant python guarding it! If I hadn't been quick on my feet, I'd have never made it out alive!" The daoist puffed himself up, sweeping his gaze over the crowd. "Anywhere you find thousand-year spirit herbs, you can bet fierce beasts are guarding them—you all know that, right?"
"This Flesh Ganoderma can bring back the dead and regrow flesh on bones. You’re all experts here—you know exactly what it’s worth!"
The daoist spoke with weight and conviction.
"Legend has it that when a Flesh Ganoderma reaches a thousand years, it truly can bring the dead back to life and regrow flesh on bones. I never thought I'd see such a mythical treasure here!" someone in the crowd gasped, eyes filled with longing.
"Daoist, how much are you asking for this Flesh Ganoderma?" someone else called out.
After all, the value of a spirit herb or medicine like the Thousand-Year Flesh Ganoderma is far beyond anything money can measure.
Life is more precious than anything; for those truly wealthy, it's not money that matters most, but their own lives.
If this Flesh Ganoderma were put up for auction at a high-end venue, it would surely fetch a sky-high price.
Most people who come to Clear Creek Street are here hoping for a stroke of fortune.
At this moment, more and more eyes in the crowd burned with desire for the Flesh Ganoderma in the daoist’s hand.
"I've never cared much for money," the shabby-robed daoist declared. "To obtain this Flesh Ganoderma, what matters most is fate." He paused, then continued, "The starting price is one yuan. Let's see who among you has the luck to claim it!"
The moment he said this, the whole crowd erupted in an uproar.
"One thousand!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"A thousand for the Flesh Ganoderma? I'll offer ten thousand!"
"Fifty thousand!"
"One hundred thousand!"
...
The atmosphere grew more and more feverish as the crowd pressed in.
Evan Lin glanced at the pitch-black Flesh Ganoderma in the shabby daoist's hand, his brows knitting slightly.
He couldn't sense any life force in the Flesh Ganoderma—meaning, even if it really was a Thousand-Year Flesh Ganoderma, it absolutely wouldn't have the miraculous effects the daoist claimed. Worse yet, eating it recklessly could even be life-threatening.
This wasn't what he was looking for.
Just as Evan Lin was about to turn and leave, a voice suddenly called out from the crowd.