If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

Qin Shuang is extremely efficient, almost frighteningly so.

Half an hour later, in a secluded stronghold outside Anyang County, Zhou Yang held a heavy bronze token in his hand, his fingertips tracing the intricate patterns on it. This was a troop mobilization order from a centurion of the Embroidered Uniform Guard; seeing the order was like seeing the man himself.

"The men you requested are all outside, twelve in total, all highly skilled." Qin Shuang sat in a grand chair, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands, her fingertips slightly white from the pressure. "Zhou Yang, this is all I have to offer right now. If we lose this battle, neither of us will survive."

"Don't worry, I don't do unprofitable deals." Zhou Yang tucked the token into his pocket, his tone light as if he were going to a banquet. "If we win, we'll make a fortune; if we lose, it's just our fate. But before that, I need to get some 'equipment'."

Qin Shuang frowned: "What else do you need? You can choose any weapon from the storeroom."

"Weapons? Those things are too crude, not refined enough." Zhou Yang stood up, dusted off his clothes, and grinned. "Where I'm going, silver is more effective than knives. Sir, just wait to close the net."

Having said that, he didn't wait for Qin Shuang to speak again, turned around and strode out. As night deepened, the streets of Anyang County were still somewhat noisy at the last moment before curfew. Zhou Yang lowered his bamboo hat, his figure like a swimming fish, quickly disappearing into the most chaotic and dark alleys of the western district of the city.

The ghost market opens at night and closes at dawn.

This was a blind spot of the underworld's rules, and also a paradise for selling stolen goods and making money. Zhou Yang skillfully navigated through several narrow alleys that reeked of mildew, finally stopping in front of an inconspicuous dark red wooden door. A dim candlelight shone through the crack in the door, and before he could knock, the door creaked open by itself.

A strange smell, a mixture of cheap cosmetics, moldy herbs, and rust, wafted towards me.

The room was dimly lit, with only a few oil lamps flickering on and off. Two people sat behind the counter. On the left was a gaunt old man with sunken eyes, only a left hand, his right sleeve hanging empty. The table was covered with exquisite brass gears and springs. This was "Thousand Hands," the best mechanic in the Ghost Market. Although he was missing a hand, his skills were more dexterous than those of an ordinary person with both hands.

On the right is an old woman with a wrinkled face, puffing away on a pipe. The strange smell in the room mostly comes from her. She is a "medicine woman," a master at using poisons.

"Oh, what wind blew this Imperial Guard master here?" The old woman tapped her pipe, squinted, and spoke in a voice like two rough tree bark rubbing together. "Things are getting tense on the streets lately. If the officials come to arrest people, they might be a bit unruly."

"Rules?" Zhou Yang closed the door behind him, walked to the counter, took out a heavy brocade pouch from his pocket, and slammed it on the table. "There is only one rule in this world, and that is money."

The brocade pouch opened, and several warm-colored, faintly fragrant spiritual herbs rolled out. Thousand Hands' lowered eyelids twitched suddenly, and his intact left hand shot out swiftly like lightning. Just as he was about to touch the spiritual herbs, he seemed to sense something and abruptly stopped in mid-air.

"This is... a Crimson Heart Orchid? And a Purple Monkey Flower?" Thousand Hands' voice was a little hoarse, and his eyes became burning. "The quality is excellent. These things are rarely seen on the market; they are most likely treasures kept privately by some royal family."

The old woman sat up straight, her cloudy eyes scanning back and forth between Lingcao and Zhou Yang's faces before finally letting out two strange laughs: "Taken from a dead person?"

"These days, who would willingly part with such valuable items?" Zhou Yang's expression remained unchanged as he lightly tapped the table with his fingers. "Enough talk, I want to exchange three things. A box of barrier-breaking needles, ten sticks of bewitching incense, and... three sheets of 'substitute death gold foil'."

"You've got quite the nerve." Thousand Hands carefully moved the few spiritual herbs aside and said in a deep voice, "The Barrier-Breaking Needles and Bewitching Incense are easy to deal with; these things are more than enough. But the Substitute Gold Foil is a life-saving item, extremely difficult to make, and I don't have much in stock."

"Not much stock, so there's still some left." Zhou Yang leaned forward, lowered his voice, and fixed his gaze on Qian Shou. "The matter I'm about to handle is extremely dangerous. Without this life-saving charm, if I were to perish inside, no one would want to do this big deal again. You don't want your regular customer to become a ghost, do you?"

Thousand Hands and the Medicine Woman exchanged a glance. Both had spent their lives in the martial world and could naturally smell the blood on him. Although the young man before them had a bright smile, the ruthlessness in his eyes was undeniable.

"Alright." Thousand Hands nodded, turned around and opened the hidden compartment behind him. After a series of crisp clanging sounds, he pushed a black iron box in front of Zhou Yang. "Barrier-Breaking Needles, specially designed to break through protective qi and restrictive formations. As long as it's not a top-tier grandmaster formation, this needle can poke a hole in it."

The old woman slowly pulled a porcelain bottle and a brocade box from her sleeve and threw them on the table: "Bewitching incense, specially formulated for martial artists' qi and blood. Unless you're a master who can project internal energy, one whiff will knock you out. As for the substitute gold foil..." She paused, then pulled out three shimmering, gossamer-thin sheets of gold foil from her bosom, "This is the last time. If you want it again, even offering your life won't work."

Zhou Yang didn't stand on ceremony and took all three items, then carefully inspected them. The substitute gold foil felt cool to the touch and faintly emitted a strange spiritual energy fluctuation. After placing it close to his body, it actually gave him a sense of peace.

"It's a pleasure working with you." Zhou Yang patted his bulging chest and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." The old woman suddenly spoke, pointing her pipe at the remaining medicinal herbs on the table. "This stuff looks familiar. A few days ago, it seems like a batch of these went missing from the Zhao Prince's mansion, and I heard that the warehouse manager also died."

Zhou Yang paused slightly, then turned around, a standard, cold smile on his face: "Is that so? What a coincidence. But there are many similar things in the world. If this old woman finds it familiar, then she's seeing it on behalf of Prince Zhao. Anyway... the dead can't speak."

After saying that, he didn't linger. He opened the heavy wooden door and plunged into the deep night.

Back at the temporary base, Zhou Yang didn't rush to rest. He dismissed his attendants and sat alone in the dimly lit room.

The next operation was aimed directly at Wanfo Temple. That place was bustling with worshippers, seemingly peaceful, but in reality, it harbored hidden dangers. Without thorough preparation, not only would they fail to save others, but they might also lose their own lives.

"System," Zhou Yang murmured to himself.

A pale blue light screen, visible only to him, appeared before his eyes.

Current lifespan: 12 years and 3 months

[Consuming lifespan can lead to the discovery of cultivation techniques, martial arts, formations, and opportunities.]

The Demon-Suppressing Pagoda at Wanfo Temple is no ordinary structure. To save people, we must first destroy the pagoda.

"Deduce the structural diagram of the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda of Wanfo Temple, a simplified version will suffice," Zhou Yang ordered in his mind. "Objective: Find the key to breaking the formation."

[Deriving the structural diagram of the Demon-Suppressing Tower requires 5 years of lifespan. Confirm?]

"confirm."

A familiar, dizzying sensation, as if his soul were being ripped out, instantly washed over him. Zhou Yang groaned, gripping the corner of the table tightly with both hands, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. This feeling of burning his lifespan for knowledge was unpleasant, like having a piece forcibly scooped out of his mind with a spoon.

Five years have passed, transforming into countless complex and obscure streams of information that flooded his mind.

As light and shadow intertwined, the outline of a magnificent Buddhist pagoda quickly took shape in my mind. The structure of the bricks and tiles, the flow of the earth's energy, the distribution of the secret passages…

A moment later, Zhou Yang slowly opened his eyes. His face was frighteningly pale, but his eyes gleamed with a sharp light.

He picked up his pen and began sketching quickly on the spread-out white paper. The pen tip scratched away, and in no time, a complex sketch appeared on the paper.

It turned out to be the case.

The Demon-Suppressing Pagoda appears to be a serene Buddhist sanctuary, but in reality, it is equipped with the "Arhat Demon-Subduing Formation." This formation is extremely insidious, using the malevolent energy of the eighteen Arhats' golden bodies to suppress the demonic nature beneath the earth. Once an outsider forcibly enters, the formation will be triggered, causing the malevolent energy beneath the earth to backfire.

"Arhat Subduing Demon Formation... Hmph, looks intimidating." Zhou Yang looked at a red dot marked on the blueprint and a cold smile appeared on his lips.

The key to the formation is not inside the tower, but in the seemingly ordinary release pond outside the tower.

As long as the water flow in the release pond is cut off, this great formation will lose its source and its power will be greatly reduced. At that time, with the barrier-breaking needles and bewitching incense in hand, it will be enough to tear a hole before those bald monks can react.

Zhou Yang put down his pen and let out a long breath. He touched the three cold gold foils on his chest, then looked at the barrier-breaking needle on the table, and the weariness in his eyes was gradually replaced by ruthlessness.

Five years of lifespan in exchange for a blueprint, plus this set of equipment bought from the black market.

This is a big gamble.

"Wanfo Temple..." he murmured softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the still-wet drawing on the table. "I hope the gods and Buddhas in your temple can truly save your lives."

Outside the window, the night watchman struck the gong at the third watch, and the night wind howled, making the window paper rustle. Zhou Yang stood up, pushed open the window, and looked at the pagoda spire that was faintly visible in the darkness in the distance, his eyes like a hunter looking at his prey that had fallen into his trap.

It's time to close the net.