Chapter 80: Your Young Lady Is in Trouble

"This Nameless Bow should be one of the replicas; many sects are keen to acquire it for research, hoping to uncover some mysterious power linked to the era of primordial chaos, or perhaps to the period shortly thereafter. That is the true value of the Nameless Bow," Nightingale explained.

"In that case, it seems the Nameless Bow isn't particularly necessary for me," Lin Zhan replied languidly.

His words drew a sidelong glance from Nightingale, her expression betraying a sense of helplessness, as though all her efforts had been wasted.

"Oh dear, Nightingale has said so much, but you haven't shown even the slightest interest? It must be that Nightingale has described it wrongly!" she lamented, her tone plaintive.

Lin Zhan noticed Nightingale's odd demeanor but paid it no mind, secretly amused. "Whether I need it or not, I'll just see how things go and bid on it if the occasion calls for it," he thought.

Teasing this little Nightingale girl was something Lin Zhan could scarcely control himself from doing.

The bidding process was far more thrilling than the treasure itself, stirring a blood-boiling excitement in the crowd.

This time, the competition for the Nameless Bow was not limited to just the three guests in the Sky Pavilion. Even those in the ordinary rooms on the second floor, who had previously remained silent, now joined the fray—clearly, they had come specifically for this moment, only now making their move.

The Nameless Bow, offered with no reserve price, soared to a billion spirit stones within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, and the bids kept climbing.

First, Lei Feiyang, the young master of the Thunder Sect in Sky Pavilion No. 2, withdrew from the bidding due to insufficient spirit stones, kicking over his table in a fit of humiliation and rage.

Then, Zhong Qi, the young master of the Azure Wave Tower in Sky Pavilion No. 3, found himself similarly overwhelmed. Unable to keep up with the bid of one and a half billion, he ignored the peerless beauty at his side and sat back down, seething.

The contest for the Nameless Bow had become a duel between hidden sects and unknown rogue cultivators.

As the last, long-bearded elder called out five billion spirit stones—fifty thousand premium stones—Lin Zhan prepared to make his move.

"I—" Lin Zhan had just begun to speak when a terrifying pressure descended upon him, freezing him in place, unable to move or utter another word. With great effort, he turned his head toward the long-bearded elder, meeting a chilling, deadly gaze.

This oppressive force was beyond Lin Zhan's ability to resist; he understood he had encountered a senior whose cultivation far surpassed his own.

Within his sea of consciousness, Lin Zhan received a telepathic message: "Young one, this Nameless Bow was lost by me years ago. Now it returns to its rightful owner. Do not interfere. If we meet again, I owe you a favor."

"Rest assured, senior. Lin Zhan would never take what belongs to another," he replied respectfully, recognizing the wisdom in yielding.

The elder finally released Lin Zhan from his spiritual pressure, confirming his winning bid.

The Nameless Bow was, of course, taken away by him.

Lin Zhan exhaled deeply, his face pale. That spiritual pressure could have killed him at any moment. Had he hesitated even briefly, the elder would no doubt have unleashed a silent, lethal attack by means of his spiritual sense.

If Lin Zhan alone had died, it would have mattered little, but now he had contracted Nightingale. If he perished, the last bloodline of the Purple Gold Luan would vanish from the world.

The elder had been courteous, even promising him a favor. Though Lin Zhan could not yet guess its future worth, he felt compelled to respect it.

Yet, what struck him most was the weakness of his own strength. He must become stronger, so that he would no longer be constrained—or even threatened—by the disparity in cultivation.

"Young master, are you alright?" Nightingale asked, concerned, noticing his pallor.

"It's nothing. That Nameless Bow looked so cumbersome—let's leave it be." Lin Zhan, unwilling for Nightingale to know the danger he had just faced, forced a strained smile. "Besides, bows are meant for shooting birds, and you are but a little bird. I'd rather not have any bow at all."

"You dare tease Nightingale!" she pouted, touching his cheek, then murmured, "As long as you're alright, Nightingale is at ease."

To be able to touch her master so freely, Nightingale was indeed fortunate.

"Hmm, I have a bad feeling—it's as if the young mistress is in trouble!" Suddenly, a flash of purple-gold light glimmered on Nightingale, her brows furrowed. "Young master, could you—"

Though Nightingale had offered her own Purple Gold Luan contract mark, the bond with her mistress remained strong—a racial instinct of her kind.

Moreover, Nightingale had not officially left her role as maid. She had followed Lin Zhan unilaterally, which, strictly speaking, was a bit lacking in propriety.

Thus Nightingale harbored guilt toward her mistress; should anything happen now, it would leave her with a deep psychological scar.

"Let's go, I'll go with you!" Lin Zhan offered without hesitation.

"But young master, the final auction is still ahead, the third phase—" Nightingale hesitated. She had told him before that the third stage would offer the most extraordinary treasures, a first for the Sky Relic Pavilion. If they left now, they would surely miss it.

"Don't dawdle. If we're late, your mistress may not survive!" Lin Zhan found her manner of referring to 'your family, my family' somewhat awkward.

"Alright!" Nightingale finally nodded firmly, lips pressed tight.

She then transformed into her true, tiny Purple Gold Luan form, hiding inside Lin Zhan's right sleeve, her little head poking out. "Young master, Nightingale will guide you."

Lin Zhan left the Sky Pavilion, descended the stairs, and swiftly exited the trading center.

At this moment, everyone's attention was fixed on the auction, so their departure drew little notice.

Following Nightingale's constant guidance and corrections, Lin Zhan sped forward, using his Wind and Rain Cloud Step technique.

Along the way, Nightingale directed him to pause briefly at the site of the Jiangnan Robe Clan's stall, then pointed straight south—toward a place teeming with all sorts of people.

"It seems to be just ahead!" Nightingale said anxiously via telepathy.

Lin Zhan sensed the commotion at the fork in the road ahead, the sounds of fighting drifting to his ears. It was a secluded stretch, and at night, anything could happen.

But why would Nightingale's mistress—the daughter of the Pavilion Master—be in such a place?

When Lin Zhan reached the crossroads, pausing before the corner to observe in secret, he finally realized that the 'young mistress' Nightingale had always referred to was none other than Lian Fengying, whom he had met earlier. Seeing the confrontation between the two sides, he was suddenly enlightened.

The young master of the Jiangnan Robe Clan, Jin Shi, had clearly won the young mistress's heart. After closing their stall, Lian Fengying was reluctant to part, accompanying Jin Shi, her savior, for a walk and conversation—a predictable outcome. The presence of their attendants suggested their lodging was in one of the inns in this bustling district.

But why had the white-robed, feather-fan-wielding troublemakers returned?

Did they not find enough amusement in the Drunken Moon Pavilion, or had they remembered something and come back to make trouble for Jin Shi and Lian Fengying?

Or did they truly intend to cover Lian Fengying's face and savor her alluring figure for an entire year?

Lin Zhan was deeply puzzled.