Starting with The Eagle Shooting Heroes: I gain a year's worth of skill every day.

Chang'an is sick.

He was very ill.

On Suzaku Avenue, the clanging of the armor of the Golden Guards resounded like the heavy breathing of some giant beast.

The two patrol teams that used to patrol at night have become four teams tonight.

The torchlight illuminated the bluestone path in a crimson glow, and the splashes from the horses' hooves, as they pounded through the puddles, carried the stench of blood.

The gates of the neighborhood were tightly closed.

The Martial Marquis behind the door gripped his sword, his palms sweating profusely.

They kept looking outside, fearing that a Taoist priest in a blue robe might emerge from the darkness and, in the blink of an eye, lead them to suffer the same fate as the guards of the Right Prime Minister's residence.

Pingkang Square.

Those once brightly lit and bustling mansions are now illuminated not by lamps of pleasure, but by candles burning all night long.

In the study, the heads of the family repeatedly wiped the cold sweat from their foreheads.

Someone is going through the ledgers and burning the things that can't be brought to light.

Someone is writing a letter to warn their clansmen far away.

Some people were kneeling in the Buddhist hall, chanting scriptures they had never believed in before.

That Taoist priest not only killed the prime minister of the court, but also left his name behind.

This is not an assassination.

This is a trial.

A death notice delivered to the entire upper echelons of the Tang Dynasty.

At this moment, in the eye of the storm, the dilapidated courtyard in Xinghuafang was as quiet as another world.

Shen Mo pushed open the courtyard gate.

The murderous aura and panic that filled the city were kept outside by this dilapidated wooden door.

The candlelight flickered inside the room.

Yang Yuhuan lay face down on the table, fast asleep.

The medicine temporarily made her forget all the bloodshed and despair, her breathing became even, and her complexion regained some color.

Shen Mo sat down at the table, his gaze falling on her pale face, his eyes softening slightly.

He poured himself a cup of tea and then poured her a cup of warm water, placing them beside him.

The tea had long since gone cold.

He didn't drink it, but stared at the tea leaves floating in the cup with a complicated expression.

In my mind, that line of numbers was flashing.

Good/Evil Points: 204600

A little over 200,000.

It's enough to bring both "Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms" and "Finger Flicking Divine Skill" to their perfect state, and there's even some left over.

But he didn't rush to add points.

The waters of this world are deeper than he imagined.

Li Linfu was merely a powerful minister in name only. His death would enrage the emperor and cause turmoil in the court, but it wouldn't cripple the dynasty.

What truly sustains this empire are the ancient clans and secret sects hidden in the shadows, and... the fangs nurtured by imperial power.

His gaze fell on the sleeves of his robe.

There are two things inside.

An account book records Li Linfu's crimes over more than a decade.

An imperial seal represents immense power.

"With this thing, we could shake the very foundation of the Tang Dynasty."

Shen Mo muttered to himself, but quickly shook his head.

Too troublesome.

He didn't come here to be a savior, nor to be a warlord in a chaotic world.

He was just a passerby who reaped the benefits.

Since Heaven's justice is not upheld, then let it clean up those who deserve to die, exchange them for points, and that's all.

As for what the world will become?

What does it have to do with him?

What he needs to do now is to find the next "Li Linfu".

Shen Mo's gaze returned to Yang Yuhuan. This woman had temporarily escaped disaster because of his intervention. But what would happen next? Chang'an had descended into madness because of his actions; would she be implicated?

He reached out and gently tucked the thin blanket around her.

I moved very gently, afraid of waking her.

Just then, Shen Mo's fingers, which were holding the teacup, paused slightly.

He raised his head.

His gaze pierced through the walls, looking deep into the underground of Chang'an City.

A sense of life is awakening.

It was cold and gloomy, as if the wails of countless wronged souls had solidified into reality.

That wasn't the aura of a martial artist.

It's more like... a concrete manifestation of some kind of rule.

A slight smile curved Shen Mo's lips.

"That's interesting."

It seems the emperor has more cards to play than he thought.

---

Chang'an, underground.

There is no name here.

There was only one bottomless passageway, with a dim oil lamp every ten feet, barely illuminating the slippery steps beneath one's feet.

The air was filled with a strange stench of rust, blood, and decay.

At the end of the passageway lies a massive underground palace.

Countless figures dressed in black and wearing bronze demon masks stood like sculptures in the darkness.

They are "bad guys".

The sharpest hidden blade in the Tang Dynasty.

The emperor's personal lackey.

In the center of the underground palace, there is a pool of water.

The pool water was as black as ink and bottomless, formed by the convergence of an underground river.

Some white things were floating on the surface of the water.

Look closely, it's bone.

human bones.

A commander of the Imperial Guards scrambled to the edge of the pool, fell to his knees, and his voice was distorted with fear:

"Report...Report to the Commander! His Majesty has issued an urgent decree! Right Chancellor Li Linfu has been assassinated, and his entire household of over three hundred people has been slaughtered! The murderer's name has been recorded...Shen Mo!"

The figure with his back to him moved by the pool.

That was an old man.

His body was emaciated, and he was wearing a faded gray cloth robe. He was hunched over and fishing for something in the dark pool with a thin bamboo pole.

He didn't turn around, but asked in a hoarse voice, like sandpaper rubbing tree bark:

"Where are Chen Xuanli's Dragon Martial Army? Where are Gao Lishi's Imperial Guards? Are they all dead?"

"No... when they arrived, the killer was already gone..."

The leader's voice grew fainter and fainter.

"oh."

The old man responded indifferently, seemingly unconcerned about the death of a prime minister.

"To slaughter the entire Prime Minister's residence in an hour and still calmly leave a message—this person's cultivation has already reached the realm of a terrestrial immortal. Sending the Dragon Martial Army to capture him is like sending them to their deaths."

"Commander, His Majesty has ordered us, the Bad People, to dig three feet into the ground and capture this scoundrel!"

The old man finally stopped using his bamboo pole.

He turned around.

What kind of face was that?

The deep wrinkles resembled a cracked riverbed; one eye was covered by a black eye patch, while the other eye shone with an alarming brightness.

In those cloudy eyes, countless sins and punishments of humanity are reflected.

He is the Bad Commander.

An old monster who has lived for countless years.

"catch?"

The scoundrel smiled, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.

"What will you use to capture them? Your lives?"

He stretched out his withered fingers and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

Those were rubbings taken from the wall of the Right Prime Minister's residence.

"If Heaven's justice is not upheld, I will take its place."

The tyrannical leader narrowed his one eye, staring at the wild and domineering handwriting, and muttered to himself:

"Interesting... He's not killing people, he's acting on behalf of God."

He looked at the trembling Imperial Guard commander:

"What was the state of the bodies of the guards at Li Linfu's residence?"

"Reporting to the commander, most of them were killed by their own weapons or by a huge force that shattered their internal organs... The Prime Minister himself had a finger between his eyebrows, but other than that, he had no other injuries."

"One finger..."

The Bad Leader's single eye gleamed with a dangerous light.

"He is showing off his strength, and he is also setting the rules."

He crumpled the rubbing paper into a ball and threw it into the dark pool behind him.

The crumpled paper fell into the water and was instantly dragged down by something.

Ripples spread across the water's surface before fading into stillness.

"Pass on my orders."

"Please give your orders, sir!"

All the villains wearing demon masks knelt down on one knee.

"First, recall all personnel currently engaged in the open manhunt. Don't provoke a tiger that has already eaten its fill."

"Secondly, investigate. Not just the Taoist priest named Shen Mo, but all the files in Chang'an City related to the words 'demon,' 'ghost,' and 'evil spirit' in the past month. No matter who reported the case, who hired the Taoist priest, or who performed the ritual, not a single one can be missed."

"Thirdly, investigate the Yang family. Not Guozhong, but that collateral branch of the Hongnong Yang family whose uncle just died."

Several orders were issued, clearly and logically, directly addressing the core issues.

The surrounding thugs immediately obeyed, their figures disappearing into the darkness as they swiftly departed.

A higher-ranking deputy commander wearing a silver mask couldn't help but ask:

"Sir, why investigate these things? This person's martial arts are unparalleled; shouldn't we start with the martial arts sects?"

The Bad Guy shook his head, a glint of all-knowing wisdom flashing in his single eye.

"A person who can crush Li Linfu with a flick of his wrist, could he have no background? If he wanted to hide, we would never find him in our entire lives."

"But he left his name and wrote that sentence. This shows that he never intended to hide it."

"He's waiting."

"Wait for us, or rather, wait for all those in Chang'an who believe themselves to be guilty to step forward."

The Bad Commander's voice was deep and resonant, carrying a terrifying certainty.

"He is not an assassin."

"He saw himself as a god of law enforcement."

"And gods... always need a first reason to descend to the mortal realm."

The gaze of the Bad Commander pierced through the thick layers of earth and landed on the inconspicuous courtyard in Xinghua Ward.

That reason is the starting point of everything.

He turned around and picked up the bamboo pole again.

"Go. Remember, don't alert them."

"I'd like to see who this 'god' will judge next."

---

# Review and revision

According to the review requirements, the dialogue between Yang Yuhuan and Shen Mo after Yang Yuhuan wakes up needs to be revised. In the original text, Yang Yuhuan's question about why Shen Mo saved her is illogical, since she was the one who actively sought help. The revised text is as follows:

---

inside the house.

Yang Yuhuan, who was fast asleep, trembled slightly on the eyelashes.

She slowly opened her eyes.

The vision went from blurry to clear.

The first thing that catches the eye is the flickering candlelight and the blue figure across the table.

He sat there quietly, with a cup of tea and a glass of warm water beside him.

Moonlight streamed in through a hole in the window, falling on half of his face.

Half light, half shadow.

Fragments of memory surged forth like a tide.

Bloodshed in Chang Le Fang. The betrayal of the uncle. The roar of the demon.

And... the scene of this Taoist priest arriving under the moon and annihilating everything with a flick of his finger.

Yang Yuhuan's body trembled slightly.

She tried to sit up, but found her whole body weak and sore. Her throat was terribly dry, as if it had been burned.

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but no sound came out.

Shen Mo raised his head and glanced at her.

Those eyes remained calm, but when they saw her wake up, a barely perceptible hint of concern flashed in them.

"Awake?" His voice was soft and gentle.

He pushed the glass of warm water in front of her: "Drink some water first."

Yang Yuhuan was stunned.

Then, with trembling hands, she reached out, took the water glass, and drank it in small sips.

Warm water flowed down my throat, relieving the dryness and pain.

After she finished drinking the water, she looked up and stared at Shen Mo.

Those eyes were filled with complex emotions—gratitude, guilt, and a hint of unease.

"Master..." her voice was hoarse and weak, "Are you leaving soon..."

Yang Yuhuan was reluctant to leave, extremely reluctant, and departed in silence.

Shen Mo stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the dark night sky outside.

Torches lit up the city of Chang'an like stars, reflecting the madness and panic of this imperial capital.

Shen Mo remained silent for a moment.

"Yes," he said softly, "but not now."

"Let's clean up the evildoers first."

He turned his head, glanced at Yang Yuhuan, and said calmly, "You should rest well. I will send you away from Chang'an when it is dawn."

Yang Yuhuan raised her head and looked at his back.

The figure in blue appeared somewhat lonely in the candlelight.

She suddenly understood.

Shen Mo is only outwardly cold; he kills without blinking an eye.

But deep down, he has his own principles and gentleness.

He is not a demon.

He was just a lone knight-errant in the darkness.

A swordsman who acts on behalf of Heaven...