Spirit Lightning — Qianjun!

Before long, Zhao Manyan came jogging out of the appraisal hall.

Normally, once the auction list was finalized, changes weren't made — but a Battle-General-class Spirit Essence was the kind of prize bidders would scramble for even harder than a Spirit Seed. What bidder here wouldn't want something like that added to the lineup?

The organizers swiftly worked it in on the spot.

"I had the master appraiser take a look," Zhao Manyan said, his envy written plainly across his face. "He says the Spirit Essence from a parasitic Demon-Beast is exceptionally rare — and the rarer the Spirit Essence, the better the chances of forging a successful high-grade Star Nebula Magic Weapon from it. So the starting bid for your Scalehide Demon-Mother's Battle-General-class Spirit Essence will open at ten million. Twenty million is roughly its true market value, but if the big spenders get into a bidding war, pushing it to twenty-five million is no problem at all."

The man was practically drooling — privately wishing he'd been the one to personally cut down the Scale-Skin Mother Demon himself.

Not that it would have helped. Zhao Manyan knew perfectly well that without a soul-collection vessel, he couldn't harvest a Spirit Essence even if he killed a Demon-Beast with his own two hands.

"Also," Zhao Manyan went on, rattling away, "the appraiser said your Battle-General-class Spirit Essence is in perfect condition — either it was preserved by a genuinely skilled Undead Element mage, or the vessel used is exceptionally high-grade. Come to think of it, how did you end up with a vessel that good? Those things are incredibly rare."

"Family heirloom," Mo Fan said vaguely, brushing it off. "We're poor, but we managed to pass that one thing down."

"It's a waste you're not going Undead Element." Zhao Manyan let it drop.

But something had just occurred to him — an uncomfortable realization. He'd always thought of himself as the wealthy Noble Clan heir, the privileged second-generation rich kid. Yet standing next to Mo Fan, this absolute nouveau riche upstart... wasn't *he* the broke one here?!

They were just about to step into the auction hall. Mo Fan was looking forward to taking in its reputed grandeur.

Then a sour, scowling face walked straight into his line of sight — a face that looked as though Mo Fan personally owed it five million yuan.

"So it's you," the scowl said coldly, with a sharp little sneer.

"Who are you?" Mo Fan asked.

The scowl went apoplectic.

*I am Bai Cangfeng — Bai Cangfeng! The eldest son of the Bai Clan, one of the Four Great Families of Magic City! How do you not know who I am?!*

"I am Bai Cangfeng!" he announced aloud, his expression darkening to something truly thunderous.

Back during the Freshman Tournament, Bai Cangfeng had planned to play the role of the finisher — sweeping in to cut down the insufferable Mo Fan and claim the spotlight in a single, decisive stroke. Instead, Mo Fan had hit him with a Thunderbolt right from the very first exchange, sending Bai Cangfeng fleeing in complete humiliation. Teacher Gu Han had driven him off entirely.

That day, Bai Cangfeng had never been more thoroughly disgraced.

And that wasn't even the worst of it. Mu Nujiao from the Mu family — that scheming hypocrite. She'd lost, and yet she'd managed to spin her defeat into a magnanimous donation, winning the adoration of half the student body in the process.

For months now, Bai Cangfeng had been ground to dust by his elders at home. They recycled the same speech into endless variations, delivering it every time he walked through the door: *Just look at the Mu family's daughter — a girl, and she has more grace and wisdom than you. You're a grown man, Bai Cangfeng — you're as useless as dead weight.* His allowance had been slashed to almost nothing. He was locked in and forced to train day after day.

All of it was Mo Fan's fault.

And yet here stood the very person responsible for months of misery — who didn't even remember Bai Cangfeng's face. Bai Cangfeng had half a mind to put his head through a wall.

"Let me be very clear," he snarled, jabbing a finger toward Mo Fan's nose. "If you hadn't cheated back then, I could have crushed you with one finger. When we move to the Main Campus — just you wait. If I don't beat you into the ground, my name isn't Bai Cangfeng!"

This grudge would not go unpaid.

He was stuck in the Blue District for the rest of the semester, doomed to obscurity thanks to that opening-week incident. But that wouldn't last. His time was coming.

Mu Nujiao, Zhao Manyan, Shen Tianxiao, Luo Song — and most of all, the one he despised most, Mo Fan — he would put every single one of them beneath his feet.

Bai Cangfeng of the Bai Clan had entered school as the most powerful young talent his family had produced in a generation. He wouldn't just stand above ordinary students — he would surpass every other Noble Clan heir as well.

With that declaration delivered, he turned and sauntered into the auction hall.

Mo Fan watched him go, genuinely baffled. Once the man was far enough away, Mo Fan turned to Zhao Manyan. "Who exactly is this Bai Cangfeng, anyway?"

"He's the one you Thunderbolted so hard during the Beast Battle he practically pissed himself." Zhao Manyan couldn't stop laughing. "Intermediate-level, too — and you one-shotted him."

"Oh, that guy." Mo Fan shrugged. "I dealt with him so fast I never got a good look at his face."

Bai Cangfeng, still on the stairs, had almost certainly heard every word. He stumbled badly enough that he nearly pitched forward down the steps.

*Son of a — the absolute nerve! Just you WAIT.*

The Blue District was nothing — children scrapping, a bunch of small-time games. But the Main Campus... then they'd see who was left standing.

True to his word, Zhao Manyan delivered. Not long after the auction opened, the Spirit Grade Lightning Seed was brought out. The Zhao family representatives didn't waste a breath — no matter what anyone else bid, their posture made one thing unmistakably clear: *this Lightning Seed belongs to the Zhao family, end of discussion.*

The price was driven relentlessly up to twenty-eight million. The Zhao family bought it anyway.

Trading a fabricated credit for a Spirit Grade Lightning Seed worth twenty-eight million — by any measure, Mo Fan had come out well ahead.

As for what the Zhao family gained from being officially credited with resolving the crisis, that wasn't something Mo Fan could easily put a figure on. A Noble Clan's gains and losses were rarely measured in the short term.

"Twenty-eight million, going to this gentleman." The auctioneer's voice carried a warmth that went beyond his usual professional manner. "I introduced this seed at the opening, but I find I can't help saying a little more. This Lightning Seed was collected from the summit of a mountain in the Tianshan range — a peak that reaches into the thunderclouds year-round. It has been named Qianjun. When used to Release Lightning Element magic, Qianjun exerts immense force on the surrounding air, generating spatial shockwave effects that make it vastly more powerful than any common seed. We all know: a Common Seed is ordinary — a Spirit Seed has a soul. And so I truly hope that Qianjun, having traveled all this way from the Tianshan range, finds a worthy master." He paused, and his voice softened. "Forgive me for going on — I've been more talkative than usual today. The reason is that the hunter who retrieved Qianjun was my friend. He died for it. It was a friend of his who risked everything to bring it back to the city."

The Zhao family's middle-aged representative, who had won the bid, was gracious about it. He smiled warmly at the sentimental auctioneer. "Mr. Wang, rest easy. Qianjun is going to a very talented young man."

"Young people!" Mr. Wang broke into a broad laugh. "I love young people. Bold and fearless — not like this old wreck who can barely get around anymore. Young is what suits Qianjun!"

Mr. Wang was clearly no ordinary figure. Nobody said a word against his digression.

*Qianjun.* Mo Fan liked the name.

Spirit Grade Seeds carried a life within them — a nature, a temperament, something almost like a personality. And so each was given a name of its own.

Qianjun: a word for immense, crushing force. And Lightning, the most power-laden of all the elemental schools of magic, could not have been named more fittingly.

From now on, all his Lightning Element magic would carry a prefix — just as his Fire Element magic did.

Its name was Qianjun.