The golden stage of the banquet pavilion was cleared within moments.
Attendants rushed forward in white silk robes, rolling out a thick crimson carpet of woven dragon-hair wool across the marble tiles. In the center stood the banquet auction podium, carved from ancient thunder-wood and inlaid with spirit-measuring crystals.
Ten thousand banquet guests leaned forward over their tables, their eyes fixed on the dais. The atmosphere was charged with sharp anticipation.
A gift duel between the Holy Son of Jade-Clear and the mysterious Chairman Lin of the Taichu Group was a clash of astronomical wealth. In the Central Continent, face was everything. Losing a duel of this scale meant social destruction and total humiliation.
“This is going to be brutal,” a sect elder whispered to his neighbor, adjusting his silk collar. “Holy Son Ye Chen has the backing of the Jade-Clear treasury and three merchant guilds. Chairman Lin may have cash, but no one beats a top-tier central sect on their own home turf.”
“Don’t be so sure,” another guest muttered back, eyeing Lin Mo’s calm posture. “Did you see that billion-stone crystal he handed to Mu Qing? That wasn’t an IOU. That was raw, unadulterated liquid capital.”
Holy Son Ye Chen ascended the auction podium with slow, arrogant steps.
