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

Morning light streamed through the cracks in the window, slanting across the tabletop, where dust motes tumbled and rolled in the beams of light.

Zhou Yang sat on the edge of the bed, head down, staring blankly at his hands.

The violent energy that had surged from the dragon's spine fragment had now completely subsided. He could clearly feel that deep within his flesh, bones, and even bone marrow lay a terrifying power he had never dared to imagine before. It was like a sleeping young beast suddenly being covered in an indestructible layer of dragon scales.

He clenched his fist, making a cracking sound between his knuckles, a deep and powerful sound like the clash of metal.

Is this the threshold for the Grandmaster realm? No, this is even more formidable than an ordinary Grandmaster.

Zhou Yang took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and his consciousness sank into his mind, waking up that familiar semi-transparent panel.

Whether it's for developing cultivation techniques or escaping death, this thing is the foundation of his survival.

The panel appeared, its pale blue light appearing somewhat faint in the morning light.

His first glance fell on the most crucial number – [Lifespan].

This is the metric he cares about most. Every breakthrough, every life-or-death crisis, is vividly reflected in this number. This time, having absorbed a divine artifact of the Dragon Spine Fragment level, his power should increase for at least several hundred years, right?

Zhou Yang even had a smug smile already on his lips.

However, when his gaze focused on that line of numbers, his smile instantly froze on his face.

[Host: Zhou Yang]

Lifespan: 42 years

[Realm: Number one below Grandmaster (Early Stage of Dragon Corpse)]

[Cultivation Technique: ...]

Forty-two years.

It was even less than he had expected.

Zhou Yang blinked sharply, wondering if he was still half asleep or if there was a bug in the system. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

The numbers haven't changed. It's still that cold, stingy forty-two years.

"What the hell?"

Zhou Yang cursed under his breath, a nameless anger rising within him. He had risked his life, crawling and rolling around in that hellish place, the Wanfo Temple underground palace, almost getting smashed to pieces, only to find that his lifespan hadn't even increased?

If he hadn't absorbed this dragon spine fragment, his lifespan would probably have been exhausted long ago in the process of deduction and repair. This wasn't a stroke of luck; it was practically trading his life for a flashy Iron Man shell, while his inner self remained a short-lived ghost.

He scratched his hair in frustration, his fingertips swiping across the panel, and clicked on the newly appeared physique details—[Dragon Corpse].

This physique was formed after he fused with the fragments of the dragon's spine during a life-or-death situation. It sounds impressive, but he has never figured out what it is actually used for.

Lines of small text appeared.

[Dragon Corpse: Taken from the spine of a dragon, transformed into a corpse's body. Indestructible, impervious to all magic.]

【Characteristic 1: Dragon Scale Protection (Passive). Increases physical defense tenfold, granting immunity to most attacks from masters below the Grandmaster level.】

【Trait 2: Dragon Breath Nourishment (Passive). When severely injured, the healing speed is increased fivefold.】

【Characteristic Three: Devouring and Refining (Core). The Dragon Corpse feeds on all living things in heaven and earth, forcibly plundering their essence and life force, converting it into the host's lifespan. The conversion ratio depends on the target's cultivation level and life stage.】

Zhou Yang's gaze was fixed on the last line of text.

Devour and refine.

It is transformed into lifespan.

His previously stifled feelings instantly flared up as if a spoonful of boiling oil had been poured over them. He had been so focused on defense and healing that he had overlooked this most crucial aspect.

This isn't just a simple defensive physique; it's clearly a "power bank" with unlimited power!

The lifespan number on the system panel is never fixed. Consuming lifespan to develop cultivation techniques costs money; gaining lifespan by killing powerful enemies earns money. However, this method of earning money has historically been too singular and extremely inefficient. Killing a third-rate expert might grant a year or two at most.

But this [devouring and refining] is different.

"Plundering life essence and vitality..."

Zhou Yang muttered to himself, his eyes gradually turning dangerous. He slowly raised his hand, palm facing the sky, trying to mobilize the newly formed black energy within his body according to the instructions on the panel.

A hunger, an extremely primal and pure hunger, rose from the depths of my stomach. This wasn't the hunger of wanting to eat rice or buns, but an extreme thirst for life energy.

He needs to "eat".

Just then, a brilliant idea flashed into my mind.

Wanfo Temple.

Ruins of the Demon-Suppressing Tower.

The mysterious master who was severely injured by him using the barrier-breaking needle and buried underneath the collapsed Demon-Suppressing Tower.

The scene was too chaotic at the time; he was only focused on grabbing the dragon spine fragments and escaping, and had no time to check whether the old Taoist was alive or dead. Given Xuanji Zhenren's Grandmaster-level cultivation, even if he were buried under hundreds of tons of rubble, he might not necessarily be completely dead.

in case……

Zhou Yang swallowed, his throat feeling a little dry.

A Grandmaster-level expert's cultivation is all refined from the essence of heaven and earth. If one were to "devour and refine" him, how many years of lifespan would that take?

One hundred? Two hundred? Or five hundred?

He suddenly stood up, the movement so forceful that it overturned the wooden stool in front of him.

The stool fell to the ground with a loud crash, which sounded particularly jarring in the quiet room.

Zhou Yang didn't even try to help him up. He walked a few steps to the window and opened it.

It was just dawn, and there were hardly any pedestrians on the street, only a few residents who had gotten up early to empty their chamber pots.

"I need to go back."

He said in a low voice, his tone resolute.

This isn't just a matter of lifespan. If Master Xuanji were alive, he would be a threat sooner or later. That old Taoist is connected to King Zhao and is also entangled with the Heavenly Principle Sect. If he recovers, the first person he'll seek out will undoubtedly be Zhou Yang.

If you don't cut the weeds at the root, they'll grow back in the spring breeze. This is an ironclad rule that Zhou Yang has learned through countless near-death experiences since his transmigration.

What's more, now this "grassroots" can also become his "food".

Instead of using the main gate, he flashed over the courtyard wall like a large bird. His Dragon Corpse physique granted him terrifying explosive power; with a light touch of his toes on the top of the wall, he silently darted dozens of feet away, disappearing into the morning mist in a few leaps.

……

The back mountain of Wanfo Temple.

The once sacred Buddhist site is now in ruins.

The Demon-Suppressing Pagoda had collapsed, with piles of broken walls and rubble. Among the exposed blue bricks and stones were fragments of broken Buddha statues, some headless and missing arms, which looked shocking.

A faint smell of burning and blood still lingered in the air.

Several crows landed on the high beams of the ruins, cawing mournfully.

Zhou Yang, draped in gray cloth and with a black cloth torn from the roadside covering his face, looked like a ghost, silently landing in a corner of the ruins.

He didn't start digging immediately, but closed his eyes.

The Dragon Corpse's perception was amplified to an infinite degree at this moment. He could feel the faint air currents surging beneath the ruins, hear the rustling of insects crawling in the cracks of the rocks, and even distinguish the pulse of roots under the soil a dozen feet away.

He was searching for the essence of "humanity".

That fresh, warm, and bloody smell.

Soon, his gaze settled on a collapsed cellar on the east side of the ruins.

There was an extremely faint aura there, like an oil lamp about to burn out, its flame flickering as if it could be extinguished at any moment. But although this aura was weak, it was incredibly tenacious, stubbornly holding on to its last breath and refusing to dissipate.

"He's still alive."

A cold smile curled at the corner of Zhou Yang's lips.

That old bastard Xuanji Zhenren is really tough.

He didn't choose to move the stones in a grand manner, as that would be too much effort and would attract attention. Instead, he walked to the top of the ruins, found a huge rock several meters high, and placed one hand on its surface.

Black energy surged within his body, and a suction force seemed to emanate from his palm.

"rise."

A low shout.

He slowly lifted the massive boulder, weighing over a thousand pounds, with one hand, and it rolled to the side with a loud thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Beneath the rock was a dark hole and a pool of dried, blackened blood.

Zhou Yang jumped down.

The cellar was not deep and was dimly lit.

A putrid smell hit me; it was the smell of festering wounds mixed with moldy air.

Using the faint light filtering down from above, Zhou Yang was able to see the scene before him clearly.

Master Xuanji was pinned under a broken roof beam, his lower body completely numb, clearly his spine had been broken. His once magnificent Taoist robe was now tattered like a pile of rags, covered in blood and dirt.

The old Taoist priest's face was ashen, his eyes were sunken, and his cheekbones were prominent. Where was the ethereal and otherworldly appearance he had before?

Hearing the noise, Master Xuanji opened his eyes with difficulty.

His eyes were cloudy, and it took him a long time to focus on Zhou Yang.

The moment he saw who it was, an unbelievable rage and resentment erupted in his murky eyes.

"It's...it's you..."

Master Xuanji's voice was hoarse and strained, like a broken bellows, "That dragon spine... you took it..."

Zhou Yang didn't speak, but just stood there quietly, looking down at him as if he were a lamb to the slaughter.

"You too... don't be so smug..." Master Xuanji gasped, black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. "His Highness Prince Zhao... won't let you off... and neither will the Heavenly Principle Sect..."

"You talk too much nonsense."

Zhou Yang coldly interrupted him.

He crouched down, his gaze level with that of Master Xuanji.

"Old man, I've killed more people than you've ever seen. Threatening me? You dare?"

Master Xuanji's pupils contracted sharply. He saw genuine indifference in the young man's eyes. It wasn't feigned profundity, but a coldness ingrained in his very bones, a disregard for human life.

"What...what do you want to do?" For the first time, Master Xuanji felt fear.

Zhou Yang grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.

"I need to borrow something."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhou Yang suddenly stretched out his right hand, as fast as lightning, and grabbed Xuanji Zhenren by the throat.

At the same time, the black dragon-shaped energy in his palm surged wildly and instantly entered Xuanji Zhenren's body.

"Well--!"

Master Xuanji's eyes bulged, and a choking hiss escaped his throat. He felt an extremely domineering force forcibly tearing at his body; it wasn't just simple pain, but a terrifying illusion that his very soul was being ripped away.

That was his cultivation level, the essence of his arduous cultivation over a hundred years, and the life source upon which he depended for survival!

"No...no!"

He tried to struggle, to use his internal energy to resist. But he was critically injured and dying, his meridians severed; what power did he have left to resist?

She could only watch helplessly as she felt like a punctured water bag, her essence flowing wildly down Zhou Yang's arm and into him.

Zhou Yang's eyes lit up.

At that moment, he seemed to hear the sound of flowers blooming and the booming of spring thunder.

A massive, terrifying surge of heat coursed through his body from his palm. This power was gentler than the fragment of the dragon's spine, yet far more mellow and direct. It didn't rampage through his body; instead, it flowed directly into the number representing his lifespan.

[System Notification: Devouring a Grandmaster-level cultivator (severely injured and crippled), refining their essence and blood...]

[Lifespan increased by 80 years...]

[Lifespan increased by 120 years...]

[Lifespan increased by 200 years...]

The numbers are jumping wildly.

Zhou Yang tightened his grip, becoming so engrossed that he could no longer feel the body beneath his palm rapidly withering away.

Master Xuanji's skin began to collapse, his muscles atrophied, and his once gray hair instantly turned withered and gray. His eyes quickly dimmed, the light within them gradually extinguished, until finally turning into a deathly gray.

Decades of arduous cultivation and a lifetime of glory and disgrace have all turned into "food" in Zhou Yang's words at this moment.

After about half a cup of tea's time, Zhou Yang finally let go of her hand.

"Clatter".

A shriveled, withered corpse, as if it had been there for a hundred years, fell heavily to the ground with a soft thud.

Zhou Yang stood up and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

The breath was grayish-black and lingered in the air for a long time.

He felt lighter than ever before, every pore of his body seemed to rejoice. The Damocles' sword that constantly hung over his head, ready to fall at any moment—the fear of his lifespan running out—vanished in that instant.

He brought up the control panel.

Lifespan: 842 years

Eight hundred and forty-two years.

From a penniless man of only forty-two years, he transformed overnight into a wealthy man with a lifespan of nearly a thousand years.

Zhou Yang looked at the number, his eyes twitching slightly. He wanted to laugh, but felt that the smile was a bit stiff.

In the past, he had to carefully plan his lifespan to extend by a few years, even risking his life to take on dangerous missions. To survive, he wallowed in the mud like a wild dog.

Now, a windfall has left him somewhat bewildered.

Eight hundred years.

Even if he squandered his resources and desperately tried to develop the divine skill, it would still be enough for him to squander for a long time.

"Is this... the weight of a Grandmaster?"

Zhou Yang looked down at the dried corpse on the ground, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

In the past, he might have found it cruel or eerie. But now, he only felt a sense of pleasure.

This world is a cannibalistic place.

If you don't want to be eaten, then you have no choice but to become a cannibal.

Moreover, one must eat enough and eat well.

He bent down and rummaged through Xuanji Zhenren's tattered Taoist robe for a while, finally finding an old storage bag. Inside, he found some loose silver coins, a few talismans, and a yellowed notebook.

Zhou Yang didn't look closely and casually tied the storage bag around his waist.

"Master Xuanji, thank you for your hospitality."

He cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, his tone flippant yet tinged with sincerity.

He turned and left.

The dark cellar soon returned to deathly silence.

When Zhou Yang emerged from the ruins, the sun was already fully risen overhead. Golden sunlight bathed him, dispelling the chill of the early morning.

He stood halfway up the mountain, looking down at the city of Anyang below. Wisps of smoke rose from chimneys, and the streets were bustling with people, their noise faintly audible.

This is a vibrant world.

And he, Zhou Yang, finally had the right to stand tall in this world and live a good life.

He stretched, and his joints cracked like firecrackers.

"Next..."

Zhou Yang squinted, gently rubbing his fingers together, feeling the lingering warmth on his fingertips.

"I should go see what Qin Shuang is going to use to buy my life."

After all, Zhou Yang is very expensive now.

It's so expensive that very few people in the world can afford it.

Zhou Yang walked down the mountain.

The mountain path was a dirt road, damp with morning dew, and a little soft underfoot. Water droplets clung to the wild grass on either side, soaking trouser legs at the slightest touch. The air smelled of earth, mingled with the faint aroma of cooking smoke drifting from the town below. The smell wasn't pleasant, nor was it unpleasant. It simply existed, just like the world itself.

He didn't take the main roads, but instead chose to walk through quiet alleys.

Anyang, the city of prefecture, was just waking up. Steamed bun shops along the street lifted the lids of their steamers, releasing plumes of white steam carrying the aroma of meat buns. Men hurrying to the early market yawned, carrying their loads on their shoulders. The night watchman, carrying a gong, weakly struck it, calling out, "Dry weather, be careful with fire!"

Everything was the same as usual.

But Zhou Yang felt that something was different.

He walked through the crowd, and no one gave him a second glance. He was still that young man in the ordinary blue cloth gown. But his eyes had changed. Before, he looked at people with wariness and calculation, like a hedgehog always ready to retreat into its shell. Now, his gaze was calm, like a deep pool of water. What lay beneath, no one knew.

A vendor selling steamed buns accidentally bumped into him while pushing his cart.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, young master!" the vendor apologized hastily, his face full of fear.

In the past, Zhou Yang might have frowned or stepped aside to avoid it.

He merely glanced at the vendor.

There was no emotion in his eyes, neither anger nor indifference. The vendor, however, froze like a frog caught in a snake's gaze, the words stuck in his throat, and he just stood there speechlessly.

Zhou Yang didn't say anything and walked around it.

He didn't want to waste any energy on these trivial matters. His life was precious, and so was his time.

The Jinyiwei's headquarters in Anyang County was not hard to find. The gray-white building stood on the street corner, like a crouching giant beast. The two stone lions at the entrance were mottled by the rain, but still exuded an aura of majesty that kept strangers away.

Zhou Yang walked straight over.

Two Imperial Guards stood at the entrance, their embroidered spring knives at their waists and their flying fish robes gleaming. Their eyes narrowed when they saw Zhou Yang.

"Halt! This is a restricted area for the Embroidered Uniform Guard; unauthorized personnel are not permitted entry!"

Zhou Yang didn't stop.

He walked three steps in front of the two men and stopped. He didn't speak, but simply raised his eyes.

The two Imperial Guards were about to question him, but the moment their eyes met, their hearts tightened. It wasn't murderous intent. Murderous intent is sharp, it's outward. Zhou Yang's gaze wasn't. It was a kind of... looking down. Like someone looking at two ants. There was no malice, but it carried absolute suppression.

One of the Imperial Guards instinctively pressed down on the hilt of his sword, only to find his palms covered in cold sweat and unable to pull it out.

Zhou Yang walked past them and entered through the gate.

The two Imperial Guards stood frozen in place until Zhou Yang's figure disappeared behind the screen wall. Only then did they gasp for breath, as if they had just been pulled out of the water. They exchanged a glance, both seeing shock in each other's eyes.

"Who...is that person?"

Zhou Yang had no interest in such trivial matters. He walked straight across the courtyard, heading familiarly towards Qin Shuang's yard. He had been here before, always keeping his head down and following behind Qin Shuang. This time, he walked right in the middle.

The other Imperial Guards they encountered on the road all stopped and made way for him. They didn't recognize Zhou Yang, but they could sense his imposing aura. It was the aura of someone who had spent years licking blood from the edge of a knife and killing countless people.

Qin Shuang's door was closed.

Zhou Yang did not knock on the door.

He reached out and gave it a gentle push. The door hinges groaned softly as they opened.

The room was very quiet.

Qin Shuang was sitting at the table, holding a pen, seemingly reviewing official documents. She was wearing a tight-fitting black outfit, her long hair tied back with a simple wooden hairpin, revealing a section of her fair neck.

Upon hearing the sound, she paused for a moment, then looked up.

Eyes facing each other.

A flicker of surprise crossed Qin Shuang's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by calm. She put down her pen.

"You've arrived."

"I'm here," Zhou Yang replied, closing the door behind him. He walked over and sat down opposite her. "I'm here to collect my payment."

Qin Shuang's desk was neatly arranged. Besides official documents, there was only a cup of tea and a brush washer. She picked up the teacup, blew on it to cool it, and took a small sip.

"Name your price," she said.

"Fifty thousand taels of silver." Zhou Yang held up five fingers. "That's the price of my life. Also, I need a fast horse, and you need to clear the road out of the city for me."

Qin Shuang put down her teacup, the bottom of which collided with the table, making a crisp sound.

"Fifty thousand taels? That's about the amount of tax revenue the Anyang treasury collects in a year." Her voice was flat. "Zhou Yang, you've raised prices very quickly."

"Because I've changed very quickly too." Zhou Yang leaned back in his chair, legs crossed. "The me I am now is worth this price. And you should be glad that I only want the money, nothing else."

Qin Shuang looked at him and remained silent for a moment.

She stood up, walked to the cabinet by the wall, opened the cabinet door, and took out a long, rectangular ebony box. The box was small and had no carvings on it.

She placed the box on the table and pushed it in front of Zhou Yang.

"Open it and take a look."

Zhou Yang glanced at her, then reached out and opened the box.

It didn't contain silver notes or gold bars.

It is a piece of metal.

The piece of metal was only about the size of a palm, its entire surface a deep, dark gold, like solidified lava. Its surface wasn't smooth; it was covered with fine, dragon-scale-like patterns. Light shining on it wasn't reflected, but rather absorbed, making the metal look like a small patch of the deep night sky.

A strange energy emanated from the metal, faint yet extremely pure.

Zhou Yang's pupils contracted slightly. His system, upon touching the metal, experienced a faint, almost imperceptible, tremor.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice no longer carrying the casualness of before.

"Earth Dragon Profound Gold," Qin Shuang said slowly. "I found it in the stronghold of the Heavenly Principle Sect. According to the notes left by True Person Xuanji, it is a supreme treasure for forging divine weapons. Its value... cannot be measured in silver."

Zhou Yang tapped his fingers lightly on the rim of the box.

"Commander Qin, are you trying to play tricks on me?" His voice turned cold. "What I want is money, something to get me out of here and save my life. You're giving me a piece of junk?"

"This isn't scrap metal." Qin Shuang stared directly at him. "Zhou Yang, you've changed. The aura around you feels unfamiliar, yet also intriguing. You killed Master Xuanji, didn't you?"

Zhou Yang neither admitted nor denied it.

"Last night, Commander Chen mobilized the city guards and blocked all roads leading out of the city," Qin Shuang continued. "He declared that he would dig three feet into the ground to find you. Do you think you can leave Anyang County with fifty thousand taels of silver?"

Zhou Yang frowned.

"You've angered him," Qin Shuang said. "You killed his men at Wangjiang Tower, which already humiliated him. Now, he's linked you with the Heavenly Principles Sect. He thinks you've slapped him in the face, and also the entire Embroidered Uniform Guard. He won't let you leave easily."

"So, you're just going to try and fob me off with this?" Zhou Yang's tone was sarcastic.

"I'm not trying to get rid of you." Qin Shuang looked at him. "I'm giving you a chance. Commander Chen needs a reason to take action against you. Right now, the Heavenly Principle Sect is your biggest reason. There's no turning back for you and him. With the money, you're just a fugitive with cash. With this, you have the capital to take a gamble."

She paused, her tone becoming more complicated.

"Zhou Yang, in this world, money isn't everything. Sometimes, what keeps you alive isn't money, but power. This piece of Earth Dragon Profound Gold can give you far more power than fifty thousand taels of silver."

Zhou Yang stared at the metal in the box and fell silent.

He had to admit Qin Shuang was right. He was now a hot potato; anyone who touched him would be in trouble. Commander Chen was determined to arrest him, and money wouldn't help. This piece of Earth Dragon Black Gold did indeed look extraordinary. Perhaps it could really help him.

"What is this? A deposit?" He looked up at Qin Shuang.

"No." Qin Shuang shook her head. "This is the reward you deserve. Only the form of the reward has changed. Killing Master Xuanji is a meritorious service. This piece of Xuanjin is the reward the imperial court bestows upon you."

She was very eloquent, transforming a transaction into a reward from the imperial court. In this way, Zhou Yang's reward became perfectly legitimate.

Zhou Yang stared at her for a long time.

This woman was always scheming. But her scheming wasn't entirely without reason. She turned a troublesome business deal into a risky investment. She used a piece of mysterious gold to bind him even more tightly to the Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) chariot.

"Okay." Zhou Yang finally uttered a single word, "I accept it."

He reached out and closed the box.

He stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait a minute," Qin Shuang called out to him, "Besides this, what else did you find at Master Xuanji's place?"

Zhou Yang paused in his steps.

He had his back to Qin Shuang, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips.

Do you think I'd tell you?

After saying that, he opened the door without looking back and walked out.

Back in his cramped room, Zhou Yang locked the door.

He sat on the edge of the bed, placed the ebony box on the table, but did not open it again.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something else.

The old storage bag of Master Xuanji.

He emptied everything out: loose silver coins, several oddly drawn talismans, and the yellowed notebook.

The cover of the journal was made of some kind of animal hide, and it felt somewhat rough to the touch. He turned to the first page.

The handwriting was messy, as if hastily written. Moreover, it wasn't any script he recognized. It was a distorted, insect-like symbol, full of an eerie feeling.

Zhou Yang frowned.

He doesn't understand.

He quickly flipped through the notebook, which was full of these strange scribblings. Occasionally, some simple patterns were mixed in, resembling star maps or the structure of some kind of formation.

This is probably not something that can be easily understood.

He picked up the talismans and examined them. The symbols drawn on these talismans were somewhat similar to those in the notebook. He could sense a faint energy contained within them, but he had no idea what their specific use was.

Zhou Yang patiently flipped through the journal again from beginning to end.

Just when he was about to give up, a piece of parchment tucked between the notes fell out.

The parchment was very thin and had an old, yellowish hue.

He picked it up and unfolded it.

There were no words or symbols on the parchment.

There is only one pattern.

It was a very simple design, like a twisted, roaring beast. The lines were simple, yet they exuded a primal, ferocious aura.

Zhou Yang was engrossed in reading when his hand trembled, and the parchment slipped from his fingers, landing right on the wooden box containing the Earth Dragon Black Gold.

The next moment, something strange happened.

The wild animal patterns on the parchment seem to come alive.

Dark red lines flowed slowly across the parchment, eventually converging into a single point aligned with the box. Inside the box, the dragon-scale-like patterns of the Earth Dragon Black Gold also emitted a faint golden light, echoing the red dot on the parchment.

Zhou Yang's heart skipped a beat.

He quickly picked up the parchment.

The red dot disappeared. The golden light also dimmed.

He tried to bring the parchment close to the box.

The red dot and golden light reappeared.

There's a chance!

Zhou Yang focused intently. He held the parchment, comparing it to the journal. He discovered that the insect-like symbols in the journal were not entirely gibberish. On certain pages, the arrangement of those symbols vaguely formed an outline.

The outline was remarkably similar to the animal pattern on the parchment, bearing a striking resemblance!

He suddenly remembered that there seemed to be something else in the storage bag.

He rummaged through the pile of things again and pulled out a cold iron plate from the corner.

The iron plaque was heavy in my hand, engraved with an ancient dragon emblem. The dragon was coiled up, its head facing down and its tail facing up, forming an eerie circle.

He had seen this emblem in the corner of a page of his journal!

Holding the iron plaque, Zhou Yang looked at the beast on the parchment, and a bold guess formed in his mind.

The parchment is a key.

The journal is locked.

And this iron plaque might just be the key to unlocking all of this... identification?