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

The night wind carried the smell of blood, creeping straight into the collar.

Zhou Yang leaned against an old locust tree, panting heavily. It felt like a fire was burning in his lungs, and every breath pulled at the broken bones in his chest, causing him to gasp for air. He looked down at the blood-stained fragment of the dragon's spine in his hand; the warm jade gleamed coldly in the moonlight, and the ancient runes faintly visible on it seemed to move as if they were alive.

"This thing... is indeed quite something."

He grinned, not bothering to wipe the mud off his face, and deftly stuffed the fragment into a hidden compartment in his inner pocket. This was the closest place to his heart; if anyone wanted to steal it, they'd have to rip his heart out.

Only after doing all this did he feel a stinging pain in his fingertips. It was from the wounds caused by exerting too much force and being cut by the rocks. He grabbed a handful of dry grass leaves from the ground and wiped the blood off his hands haphazardly, then grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it on his face, making his once handsome face look ashen and sallow.

This is called battlefield makeup, and its main theme is tragedy.

If he's going to play the hero, he has to put on a convincing show. He not only has to bring back victory, but also a body full of wounds, so that it seems genuine and leaves no room for doubt.

"Cough cough..."

Zhou Yang deliberately lowered his voice and let out a few heart-wrenching coughs. He then slapped a spot on his chest that wasn't so badly injured, forcing a pained and distorted expression onto his face.

Everything is ready.

He dragged his somewhat lame left leg, stumbling and groping his way toward the main gate of Wanfo Temple.

The Wanfo Temple was no longer the solemn place it had been during the day. Towering flames illuminated half the sky, the collapsed Demon-Suppressing Pagoda stirred up clouds of dust, and many monks were carrying buckets of water, running around trying to extinguish the raging fire that was beyond saving.

The atmosphere in the open space outside the temple gate was so heavy it was almost palpable.

Dozens of corpses lay scattered on the ground, all dressed in black, their faces still bearing the terrified look of those who died with their eyes wide open. Qin Shuang stood beside the pile of corpses, blood still dripping from the embroidered spring knife in her hand. Her flying fish robe was somewhat disheveled, and a few strands of her hair were loose, but this did not diminish the sharp killing intent emanating from her; on the contrary, it added a touch of grim beauty.

Several Imperial Guard captains were cleaning up the battlefield when they saw Zhou Yang stagger out of the darkness. One of them immediately raised his sword and shouted, "Who's there?!"

"One of our own."

Zhou Yang's voice was hoarse as he raised a blood-stained hand and waved it, "Don't cut me, I'm Zhou Yang."

Upon hearing the name, Qin Shuang turned her head sharply.

In the dim firelight, a barely perceptible flicker of emotion flashed in her usually icy eyes. She strode forward, but stopped abruptly a few steps away from Zhou Yang, her gaze sweeping over him before finally settling on the hand he was clutching his chest.

"Are you injured?"

His tone remained cold and hard, but if you listened carefully, you could hear a hint of tension hidden within it.

"He's lucky, he won't die."

Zhou Yang gave a wry smile, and leaned forward as if he couldn't support himself, but in reality, he put most of his weight on Qin Shuang's outstretched arm.

He wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation; he was genuinely tired and in real pain.

"That old Taoist priest Xuanji is too cunning," Zhou Yang said breathlessly, his words coming out in fits and starts. "He blew up the underground palace trying to bury me in it. Luckily, I ran fast, but I still got hit by some rubble from the collapse. That old bastard, even in his dying moments, he wanted to take someone down with him."

"Dead?" Qin Shuang raised an eyebrow, her tone carrying a hint of confirmation.

"Dead. Utterly dead."

As Zhou Yang spoke, he discreetly observed his surroundings. The Imperial Guards were busy dealing with the corpses and escorting the few remaining prisoners; no one noticed them.

He pulled out another item he had prepared beforehand from his pocket—a jade pendant he had taken from Master Xuanji, engraved with the secret totem of the Heavenly Principle Sect, and of course, a piece of parchment with a partial dragon spine pattern that he had stuffed into it during the chaos.

This was his "second big gift" to Qin Shuang.

"My lord, I found this on Xuanji while I was chasing him."

Zhou Yang handed over what he was holding, lowering his voice, "The old Taoist priest let slip before he died that this was a token given to him by the King of Zhao to command these assassins. And this piece of paper... he made a rubbing of it in the underground palace, saying it was an 'auspicious omen' to be sent to the King of Zhao."

Qin Shuang took the two items.

By the light of the distant fire, she could make out the totem on the jade pendant, a token reserved only for core members of the Heavenly Principle Sect. Looking at the parchment, though it was only a partial rubbing, its ancient and desolate aura was palpable; it was no ordinary item.

This is irrefutable evidence.

This is irrefutable evidence, hundreds of times stronger than the confessions of those suicide bombers.

"King Zhao colluded with a cult, illegally tapped into the dragon vein, and plotted a rebellion." Qin Shuang's voice was as cold as ice shards. "With this, even if he had ten mouths, he couldn't clear his name of this capital crime of treason."

She looked up and gave Zhou Yang a deep look. This subordinate, who usually seemed somewhat mercenary and always talked about money, suddenly appeared much more impressive in her eyes.

Despite being severely injured, he still risked his life to bring back such crucial evidence.

"You did a great job." Qin Shuang paused, then added, "I'll remember this credit."

"Sir, simply memorizing it isn't enough."

Zhou Yang grinned and pulled a small booklet from his pocket. It was the Jinyiwei's merit record book—of course, a copy he carried with him. "You have to sign and put your fingerprint on it. This is money earned by risking your life. If I lose even a penny, I'll cry to you."

Qin Shuang was stunned for a moment, then a very rare, faint smile appeared on her lips.

This guy, he's practically on the verge of death, and he's still thinking about money.

"Don't worry, you'll get your share."

Qin Shuang carefully put away the jade pendant and parchment, her expression returning to its usual decisive and efficient manner. She turned to look at the chaotic Wanfo Temple behind her, her gaze sharpening.

The Demon-Suppressing Pagoda collapsed, and the sacred Buddhist site was destroyed. Someone must bear the responsibility for all of this.

Since the King of Zhao has given such a generous "gift," wouldn't it be a shame for Zhou Yang, who is already injured, not to accept it and instead pin the blame for treason on him?

"Guards!" Qin Shuang shouted sharply.

"exist!"

Several flag officers immediately jogged over, clasped their hands in greeting, and accepted the order.

"Issue the order to seal off the scene and detain all monks involved. Make it public that a group of wandering sorcerers employed by Prince Zhao's residence colluded with heretics from the Heavenly Principle Sect to infiltrate Wanfo Temple, steal Buddhist treasures, and destroy the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda. I have captured and killed the bandit leader on the spot and seized irrefutable evidence of treason!"

"yes!"

Several captains obeyed the order and left. Although they knew in their hearts that things were probably not that simple, in the rules of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, what the superior said was law. Moreover, the corpses lying on the ground were indeed dressed as assassins.

After Qin Shuang finished dealing with everything, she turned to Zhou Yang and said, "Go back to the centurion's office immediately and find a doctor to treat your injuries. I will handle the rest."

"Alright, sir, you're busy. I'll go back to lie down and rest now."

Zhou Yang was also quite sensible. He knew the situation was far too serious, involving a prince's rebellion—a truly earth-shattering case. As a mere captain, even with merit, it wasn't appropriate for him to be on the front lines. He understood the principle of "the nail that sticks out gets hammered down" better than anyone.

Supported by several imperial guards, he limped away from this hellish scene.

……

Half an hour later.

The backyard of the Hundred Household Office within Anyang County.

The wick of the lamp in the room popped, making a soft crackling sound.

Zhou Yang sat cross-legged on the bed, the bloodstains on his body already cleaned off, and he had changed into a dry set of clothes. The doctor he had invited had already left tremblingly with his medicine box, leaving behind the words, "Take good care of yourself and don't get angry."

At this moment, there were two things in front of him.

One was a fragment of a dragon's spine that he risked his life to bring out of the underground palace, and the other was a pitch-black iron plaque that he found in the arms of Master Xuanji.

Needless to say, the dragon spine fragment contained immense vitality, enough to make his internal systems restless just by looking at it.

And that iron plaque...

Zhou Yang reached out and picked up the iron plate, gently stroking the hideous ghost head totem on it with his fingertips.

He had seen something similar among Fang Tian's relics, but this one was clearly made of a higher grade material. In addition to the totem, it was also engraved with a very small number – "Earth Number Seven".

"It seems that Master Xuanji holds a high position within the Heavenly Principles Sect."

Zhou Yang narrowed his eyes. Although this iron token couldn't be directly converted into lifespan like the Dragon Spine Fragment, it might be an unexpected passport for his further investigation of the Heavenly Principle Sect.

Of course, this is on the premise that he can use it.

The most urgent task now is to take stock of the biggest spoils of this battle.

He took a deep breath and held the fragment of the dragon's spine in his palm.

"System, deduce the Golden Bell Cover technique to its perfect state."

Previously, in the underground palace of Wanfo Temple, he had forcibly overdrawn his lifespan to use the Barrier-Breaking Needle in order to break the formation. Although it was a tool, it still consumed a lot of his energy and spirit. Now that he has this fragment, he must immediately make up for the loss and, incidentally, further enhance his raw strength.

Only the power you hold in your own hands is truly real.

[High-quality energy source detected: Dragon Spine fragment.]

Should the lifespan be extracted?

"extract."

As soon as Zhou Yang had a thought, the fragment in his hand instantly turned into a pool of golden liquid, seeping into the lines of his palm and disappearing.

A vast and warm aura instantly exploded throughout his body.

The feeling was like drinking a bowl of piping hot ginseng soup on the coldest days of winter; every pore opened up, greedily absorbing the power.

Life expectancy increased by fifty years.

[Current remaining lifespan: 120 years.]

"One hundred and twenty years..."

Zhou Yang opened his eyes and exhaled a breath of stale air. Although the wound in his chest was still throbbing, the feeling of weakness and loss of life had completely disappeared.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles making a crisp popping sound.

This trip to Wanfo Temple was worthwhile.

Not only did he pass the huge problem of King Zhao to Qin Shuang to handle, he also got a free life and an extra 120 years of lifespan.

As for Qin Shuang...

Zhou Yang glanced at the pitch-black night outside the window. At this very moment, that icy-cold centurion had probably already stormed into the Anyang Prefectural Governor's mansion with irrefutable evidence, and might even have sent a document to the capital overnight.

The downfall of the King of Zhao was a foregone conclusion.

Zhou Yang, as a commander of the Imperial Guard of the eighth rank, played the perfect role of "survivor" and "meritorious official" in this huge political storm.

No one would doubt him.

No one dared to doubt him.

After all, who would believe that a "loyal minister" who was almost buried underground by a landslide while chasing down rebels actually had such a large sum of money hidden away?

"In this world, you still have to know how to act."

Zhou Yang chuckled self-deprecatingly, stuffed the black iron plaque back under his pillow, turned over, and blew out the candle.

In the darkness, he closed his eyes, but the patterns on the parchment floated into his mind.

Those dragon spine fragments... seem to be used for more than just extending lifespan.

But that's something to worry about later.

Now, all he wants is to get a good night's sleep and wait for Qin Shuang to bring him that generous reward money after dawn.

Paying more money is the right way to go.