The dock was crowded with people, and cultivators who couldn’t get boat tickets were beating their chests in frustration.

The large ship from Golden Palace was entirely vermilion red, carrying eager wealthy guests as it broke through the waves.

At the bow, a gold and red banner unfurled in the sea breeze. Embroidered on it was a pixiu with its bloody mouth wide open, looking like a burning flame under the setting sun.

Similar banners hung throughout Evil Buddha’s territory.

Golden Palace was a place of entertainment where money flowed like water. Visitors were guests, and in principle, bloodshed was avoided, so they hung auspicious beast banners.

All the evil practitioners along the Western Sea understood this rule. If the banner displayed auspicious beasts like “pixiu” or “vermilion bird,” it meant this was Evil Buddha’s business venue.

Such marketplaces, shops, taverns, and brothels often had good security because they had powerful backing. No one dared to cause trouble.

If the banner displayed fierce beasts like “taotie” or “flying serpent,” it was Meng Zheng Xian’s palace or residence. It was best to avoid these places, lest one make a mistake and anger the master of the evil path, needlessly losing one’s life.

Song Qian Ji’s toes touched the waves as he jumped onto the deck, where he was immediately surrounded by sailors.

“Ticket!” the leader demanded.

Song Qian Ji took out his spirit stone pouch: “No ticket, let me buy one.”

“Don’t you know the rules? Where are you from?”

The cultivators on the deck watched with schadenfreude, waiting for this person to be thrown off the ship.

Song Qian Ji put away his spirit stone pouch and raised his sword: “No sect, no faction. Independent cultivator Song Qian Ji.”

“You’re Song Qian Ji?” The leader turned pale with shock. “Three days ago, you killed two elders from Hua Wei Sect on the Western Shore. Instead of fleeing, you dare to show yourself?”

Song Qian Ji thought to himself, so that’s when it happened. No wonder I’m here and covered in wounds.

He had been hunted all the way, fought for his life, and barely won by a single move. To salvage their reputation and maintain their righteous image, Hua Wei Sect portrayed him as ruthless, vicious, and treacherous.

“I did kill those people…”

Before Song Qian Ji could finish, someone in the crowd shouted:

“He’s the number one Golden Core cultivator, unmatched below the Nascent Soul realm!”

Song Qian Ji: “I didn’t say that…”

Before he could finish, the cultivators erupted in chaos and scattered like birds and beasts.

Those skilled in sword flight summoned their flying swords, those skilled in water escape techniques leaped away.

The sea surface splashed repeatedly as if a pot of dumplings had been dropped in.

Song Qian Ji thought? You dare to board Evil Buddha’s ship but jump into the sea when you see me?

Is that necessary?

The ship’s leader also felt embarrassed and shouted: “Hey, why is everyone jumping? This is Golden Palace’s ship. Even Song Qian Ji wouldn’t dare to kill people on board!”

While he was shouting, the fastest water escape cultivator had already swum back to shore. He spat out a mouthful of seawater and said:

“Do you believe that yourself? The moon will be full next year, but life comes only once!”

The leader shouted to the sky: “He’s taking the ship to Golden Palace, so he must be seeking refuge with Evil Buddha!”

A sword-flying cultivator replied: “Or maybe he’s going to kill Evil Buddha! He used to be an assassin. If we travel on the same ship, what if we’re considered accomplices!”

A flock of white seagulls was startled by the sword energy and scattered in all directions, just like the cultivators fleeing the red ship.

Song Qian Ji felt slightly apologetic: “I’m sorry, my reputation isn’t very good lately.”

In his previous life, there were no Thousand Channels, no Northern Desert, and no minor Hua Wei Sect.

For an independent cultivator born an ordinary person to survive in this world, one’s reputation could never be too good, but he was particularly bad.

He still held his sword, and the sailors naturally kept their distance. The leader also stepped back, cautiously probing:

“If you were an assassin, you would hide your identity. Why would you come openly? Right? You’re not an assassin, are you?”

Song Qian Ji: “I’m not.”

Everyone sighed in relief.

“What are you going to Golden Palace for? The casino or the auction?”

“To see Evil Buddha,” Song Qian Ji answered frankly.

The sailors looked at him as if he were mad and stopped talking to him.

The journey was peaceful after that.

The setting sun gradually sank below the horizon, night fell, and the moon began to rise.

Countless lamps were lit on the floating island. From a distance, the entire island looked like a huge golden ball, shimmering with light, turning half the dark sea golden.

Countless red ships, large and small, rushed toward the floating island from all directions like sharks hunting for blood.

The wealthy guests on the ships drank wine, sang songs, talked, and laughed loudly, eagerly preparing to spend a wonderful night.

Song Qian Ji’s ship had only him aboard, making it unnaturally quiet.

“From the moment I boarded and revealed my identity, Meng He Ze should have known I was coming. Why hasn’t he sent his trusted followers to capture me? Isn’t he afraid I’ve come to kill him?”

The ships docked one after another, and well-trained servants welcomed batch after batch of guests disembarking.

The manager-like cultivator smiled broadly:

“The auction will begin in half an hour. The pawnshop on the island offers fair prices, and if you don’t have enough money, you can still get credit. Please enjoy yourselves tonight. This Mr. Song…” He approached Song Qian Ji, seeming concerned about causing panic, and changed his form of address, “Young Master Song, this is the entry invitation for the ‘Red Dust Arena’ auction.”

“Is Evil Buddha at the auction?” Song Qian Ji turned to look.

The island’s terrain was low on all four sides and high in the middle. The “Red Dust Arena” was at the highest point in the center. Looking from afar, no tall buildings or palaces could be seen, only a flying serpent banner.

“Of course he is,” the manager answered, immediately bowing and taking his leave, as if afraid Song Qian Ji might ask another question.

Song Qian Ji refused the high-priced offers from people around him trying to trade for his invitation and hurried to the auction venue amid envious glances.

The sea breeze was salty, but the island was protected by a formation. The sweet air was mixed with the fragrance of wine and perfume.

The streets were paved with special stone material, heavy black stones inlaid with gold threads. Illuminated by the street lamps, it looked as if the ground was sprinkled with gold dust.

On the street, some wore conical hats, some wore hoods, and some walked around openly showing their true faces. It didn’t seem like the gloomy territory of evil practitioners but was even more prosperous and lively than Hua Wei City.

People who had drunk too much on the upper floors tossed spirit stones down, causing others to scramble for them.

Song Qian Ji dodged embroidered handkerchiefs and sachets thrown from above, avoided the red gauze floating throughout the street, and evaded people blocking his way. At first, he felt strange and awkward. Even when he and Lin Fei Yuan had lived next to a brothel before, he had never encountered such explicit flirtation. Golden Palace truly had open customs.

He soon relaxed, adopting an attitude of “Well, Meng He Ze, let’s see what tricks you’re up to now.”

The Red Dust Arena was called an arena but was a palace. The outer palace received guests and held banquets, while the rear palace was Evil Buddha’s residence.

Song Qian Ji presented his invitation and was escorted into the auction venue by guards.

Other auction venues were mostly small buildings, but this magnificent structure resembled a circular colosseum.

Below the third level were general seats, and above the third level were private boxes, all filled with formations that prevented prying.

“Which room is Evil Buddha in?” Song Qian Ji asked a serving girl beside him.

The girl turned pale with fright, trembling all over: “Young Master, please don’t joke!”

“No one knows?”

“Of course not!”

Song Qian Ji looked around and saw that although the guests were chatting and laughing casually, seemingly under relaxed discipline, security was strict. Golden Palace cultivators were patrolling vigilantly everywhere.

The auction participants included both evil path cultivators who had killed countless people and acted arrogantly, as well as disguised elders from major sects and protectors from great families.

If chaos erupted here, it would trigger disputes between various factions and lead to a melee.

The bell rang, and the venue quieted.

The host announced loudly: “The first item for auction, high-grade Flood Dragon Scale Armor! Starting price, three thousand spirit stones!”

Song Qian Ji thought, what a spendthrift, starting with high-grade defensive magical equipment. I wonder what they’re saving for the finale.

He concealed his aura and moved stealthily with a talisman.

“Did I just see a figure flash by? Was it the wind?”

“Never mind whether it was the wind, notify the fourth floor to intensify the patrol!”

“The first item has been sold for thirty thousand spirit stones!”

Amid the discussions, Song Qian Ji reached the fourth floor and targeted a group of people at the stairway.

The woman walking in front had low cultivation, but behind her were three Golden Core protectors and more than ten attendants.

She was stunningly beautiful, wearing a long-sleeved dress with golden peonies. With a swirl of her skirt, she pushed open a door at the end of the corridor.

Song Qian Ji thought heaven helps me.

One incense stick later, people inside the room were lying all over the place, and his sword was at the beauty’s throat: “Don’t move. Take me to see Evil Buddha.”

The guard at the door asked: “There’s noise inside. Are you well, Madam?”

The beauty called out: “I’m changing clothes.”

Everyone at the door hastily withdrew.

The beauty turned her head and stared coldly at Song Qian Ji: “Do you know who I am?”

Song Qian Ji thought for a moment: “Lady Golden Peach?”

The beauty suddenly smiled: “It seems this Young Master doesn’t understand Golden Palace very well. I am Golden Hairpin, not Golden Peach.”

Among the many evil beings under the master of the evil path, four had the highest status.

The Right Protector, Golden Law, was in charge of the punishment hall. The Left Protector, Golden Blade, was his most loyal guardian and assassin.

Lady Golden Peach was his most favored concubine, often kept by his side.

Lady Golden Hairpin was the general manager of the Golden Cave, responsible for managing Evil Buddha’s many businesses.

Song Qian Ji apologized: “I’m looking for Evil Buddha. Where is he?”

“Young Master has come uninvited. May I ask your esteemed name?”

“Song Qian Ji.”

Lady Golden Hairpin’s expression changed: “You are Song Qian Ji?”

Song Qian Ji threatened: “Now that you know I’m Song Qian Ji, hurry and tell me where Evil Buddha is! Otherwise, beware of your… Hey, you!”

Lady Golden Hairpin straightened her neck and rushed toward his sword tip. If he had withdrawn his sword a moment slower, blood would have splattered five steps away.

“What are you doing!” Song Qian Ji reversed his hand and shot out a binding talisman.

Lady Golden Hairpin smiled sadly: “Kill me. I won’t survive tonight anyway.”

Song Qian Ji said coldly: “Nonsense!”

“I truly seek death. Please, Young Master, grant my wish.”

“Why seek death?”

“We who serve under Evil Buddha have all been implanted with parasites by Golden Law. Our lives are not our own; we cannot even self-destruct or commit suicide. If you kill me tonight, you will be helping me! Such a great kindness, I shall repay in the next life!”

Song Qian Ji thought, if you die, who will take me to see Meng He Ze: “What situation is so dire that you must die?”

As they spoke, another round of cheers came from outside the window. It was the intermission song and dance performance at the auction.

Lady Golden Hairpin heard the joyful music as if it were a funeral bell, her expression becoming even more sorrowful:

“Tonight’s final auction item is an extremely rare spiritual plant called Seven-Colored Glazed Treasure Lotus. This lotus is a supreme alchemy material that can reconnect broken meridians and help cultivators below the Nascent Soul realm breakthrough. Such a precious treasure naturally required my care, watering it with sweet dew day and night.”

Song Qian Ji nodded: “Flowers and plants are delicate and indeed need careful attention.”

“Before you came in, I was watering it with sweet dew. When you suddenly appeared, I panicked and knocked off one of its lotus petals. With a damaged lotus, its medicinal potency is greatly reduced. Without the finale item tonight, how can I survive?”

Lady Golden Hairpin’s elaborate long sleeves spread on the table. Song Qian Ji looked under them and indeed saw a broken glazed cup.

The jade basin was overturned, and the treasure lotus was damaged.

Song Qian Ji wasn’t particularly concerned about the value of the spiritual plant but understood the pain of “damaged petals” and softened his tone:

“This was my fault. You only made an unintentional mistake. Don’t cry. Just find another treasure from Evil Buddha’s treasury to replace it.”

As he spoke, he removed the binding talisman.

“You apologized?” Lady Golden Hairpin looked at him in shock. “So Song Qian Ji knows how to apologize?”

“Time is short. Where is the treasury?”

“Young Master may not know, but tonight is chaotic with all sorts of people present. To prevent accidents, the treasury has been closed, and the key is with Evil Buddha.” Lady Golden Hairpin smiled in despair, tears streaming down her face as she rushed toward the sword tip again. “I’d better die now to avoid suffering in the punishment hall. Living would be worse than death!”

“Why go to such extremes? There must be another way!”

Song Qian Ji thought, this is troublesome. She’s crying, and over a damaged flower at that.

“Could Young Master Song have some rare treasure?”

“I don’t.”

“Then what other way could there be?!”

Song Qian Ji looked left and right, then pointed at himself: “Aren’t I here?”

The auction featured not only bidding wars but also sleeve dances, and animal performances, and as the night deepened, the atmosphere improved. Everyone could feast their eyes and have their appetites thoroughly whetted before the final item was revealed after much anticipation.

“Distinguished guests, next is the final treasure of this auction. In heaven and earth, it is unique. Anyone who sees it will undoubtedly love it. Once you possess it, you will never want to lose it—”

The first and second-floor audiences widened their eyes, ready to feast their sight.

The wealthy guests on the third floor impatiently urged: “Enough!”

“Start quickly! Can’t wait any longer!”

“Whoosh!”

The black curtain was lifted, and eight dazzling beams of light shone on the stage, illuminating the central platform as bright as day.

On the pure gold lotus platform, there were no magical devices or treasures, only a person standing.

A man holding a sword.

“Ah! Why is it a person?”

“Who is this?!”

Song Qian Ji was dazzled by the suddenly bright lights.

The clamor surrounded him like the sea, with distinguished guests filling every seat.

When he appeared, there was a sudden silence.

Until the window in the southwest corner of the top floor moved slightly, creaking as it opened halfway, and a soft, charming female voice descended:

“I bid one hundred thousand spirit stones!”