Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

"Two thousand three."

"Two thousand five."

When the bid reached 2,050 silver dollars, the bidding slowed down.

Buying a corpse at this price is not worthwhile unless it's an essential need.

"Three thousand."

Chen Mo looked over and saw the fat old man from the Ding family of Yinmen.

He put down his teacup, slowly raised his hand, and his face still had that kind and benevolent look.

Sun Tong on the stage nodded: "Master Ding offers three thousand, is there any higher bid?"

No one answered.

The Ding family raises ghosts. What does it take to raise ghosts?

It needs yin energy.

The corpse of a master of body refinement, which has remained incorrupt for a thousand years, possesses an even heavier yin energy than an old corpse buried for a hundred years in an ordinary graveyard.

This thing, now in his hands, has been put to good use.

"Three thousand once."

"Three thousand twice."

"Three thousand—"

"Three thousand five."

Another voice rang out.

The one who made the bid was the silent, middle-aged man in a gray robe. He had been sitting on the other side of the front row and hadn't moved at all, but suddenly he spoke up.

The second son of the Ding family turned his head to look at him, smiled, and then turned back to raise his hand: "Four thousand."

"Four thousand five." The gray-robed man immediately followed.

"Five thousand."

"Five thousand five."

With a single word from the two, the price jumped to six thousand in the blink of an eye.

Whispers began to circulate among the audience.

Six thousand silver dollars is enough for an ordinary family to live on for more than ten years. Is it worth it to buy a corpse?

Chen Mo, however, was looking at the monks.

The middle-aged monk kept his eyes closed, fiddling with the bone beads, seemingly uninterested in the bidding.

But the young monk behind him kept glancing back and forth between Ding Lao Er and the gray-robed man, his lips twitching slightly, as if he were memorizing something.

"Seven thousand." Ding Lao Er's voice was still slow, but it already carried a different meaning.

The gray-robed man was silent for a moment, then said, "Seven thousand five."

This time, Ding Lao Er didn't immediately follow. He simply picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said, "My friend, I raise ghosts, and this stuff will be useful to me."

"And you? What will you do with it?"

The man in the gray robe did not answer.

The audience was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Sun Tong stood on the stage, not urging anyone, but simply gently waving his folding fan.

Ding Lao Er waited for a while, and seeing that the other party did not answer, he smiled again: "Alright, I won't ask. Eight thousand."

"Nine thousand." The gray-robed man's voice remained calm.

Ding Lao Er's smile faded for a moment.

He stared at the gray-robed man for a few seconds, then suddenly chuckled and waved his hand: "Enough, enough, I'm too old to argue."

"This is yours."

The man in the gray robe nodded to him as a thank you.

Sun Tong shouted from the stage: "Nine thousand silver dollars, deal! Sir, please stay after the meeting to settle the transaction with your assistant."

Two men went up on stage, closed the lid of the box, affixed new talismans, and carried the box off.

The gray-robed man sat quietly from beginning to end, as if he wasn't the one who had just spent nine thousand silver dollars to buy a thousand-year-old corpse.

A corpse is this expensive!

A sense of helplessness welled up in Chen Mo's heart.

These people spent nine thousand silver dollars as if it were nine copper coins. If the second son of the Ding family hadn't been wary of this person's strength, it seems he wouldn't have been able to get the money for nine thousand.

It seems that all his current wealth is only enough to buy this one corpse.

They're all rich and powerful dogs.

Chen Mo glanced at the people around him, a surge of urge to pull off a heist stirring within him.

If he robs all the people in the house, he'll probably be set for life.

Unfortunately, he lacked the strength, and he turned his gaze back to the auction stage with a touch of melancholy.

On stage, Sun Tong clapped his hands: "Ladies and gentlemen, the first item has already found a buyer. Next up is the second item. Please take a look."

The curtain at the side door was lifted again.

Only one waiter came up this time, carrying a small brocade box.

The brocade box was dark red, with cloud patterns embroidered in gold thread, and looked much more exquisite than the previous box.

The waiter placed the brocade box on the table before respectfully withdrawing.

Sun Tong didn't rush to open it, but first glanced at the audience below.

"This second item," he said, "is a bit special; it's not an object, it's a picture."

Someone in the audience asked, "What picture?"

"A treasure map," Sun Tong smiled slightly, "or rather, a map showing the distribution of tombs."

He opened the brocade box, took out a roll of yellowed silk, and carefully unfolded it on the stage.

The silk scroll was about two feet square, with mountains and rivers drawn on it in ink and densely covered with small characters.

The most eye-catching thing is the red dots on the map, dozens of them of different sizes, scattered everywhere.

"Please take a look, everyone." Sun Tong pointed to the red dots. "These red dots mark the locations of ancient tombs in the Western Regions. Most of them have been looted, but there are seven that, according to the person who drew this map, have never been opened."

Another commotion broke out in the audience.

The ancient tombs in the Western Regions are places where good things are found.

For thousands of years, countless caravans, monks, and envoys have perished on the Silk Road and been buried in the desert.

Any one of their burial items would be enough to feed them for several years.

"Where did this picture come from?" The old Taoist priest in the front row rarely spoke up.

"Good question." Sun Tong nodded at him. "This picture was drawn by a tomb raider."

"That senior spent his whole life tomb raiding. In his later years, he drew this picture based on everything he had seen and heard. Later, this picture changed hands many times and finally came into our hands."

The old Taoist priest grunted in response and said nothing more.

Sun Tong continued, "The starting bid is three thousand silver dollars. Please proceed."

This time, there were significantly more bidders than before.

"Three thousand five."

"four thousand."

"Four thousand five."

"Five thousand."

The price soared and soon exceeded six thousand.

Chen Mo watched coldly, without participating.

He has no interest in ancient tombs; even if he's alive to dig one, he might not be alive to enjoy the spoils.

In places like the Western Regions, where the desert is vast, tomb raiders are more terrifying than the ghosts inside the tombs.

The foreigners started making offers.

The blonde, blue-eyed woman held up a notebook with a number written on it: eight thousand.

"That lady offered eight thousand," Sun Tong said.

"Nine thousand," Ding Lao Er said again.

"Ten thousand," the foreign man from the Truth Society shouted in broken Chinese.

The old Taoist priest shook his head and did not follow.

But the old woman in the corner who was holding the black cat suddenly raised her hand and said in a shrill voice, "Twelve thousand."

All eyes were on her.

The old woman lowered her head and kept stroking the cat's back. The black cat's golden eyes gleamed faintly in the lamplight, as if it were staring at someone.

The foreigner frowned, whispered a few words to his companion, and then raised his hand: "Thirteen thousand."

"Fifteen thousand," the old woman immediately followed.

The foreigners fell silent.

Spending 15,000 yuan on a potentially unreliable chart is too risky.

Does anyone know if those ancient tombs still exist?

Does anyone know if there's anything inside?

Sun Tong waited on the stage for a moment, and seeing that no one else was bidding higher, he called out, "Fifteen thousand, sold. Please stay after the event, ma'am."

The old woman nodded, still keeping her head down, stroking the cat gently.

The silk on the stage was put into a brocade box, and the waiter carried it away.

Sun Tong cleared his throat: "Ladies and gentlemen, the first two dishes are just appetizers."

"The third thing is one of the main events of tonight."

The curtain at the side door was lifted, and four men carried a large box up.

This box was much larger than the box containing the first corpse; it was as long as a person and half a person wide, requiring four people to lift it.

The box was also black, and it was covered with even more talismans, so densely packed that they almost completely covered the box.