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

Anyang County before dawn resembled a sleeping giant.

As Zhou Yang led Qin Shuang through the side gate of the prefectural governor's mansion's backyard, the sky was just beginning to lighten. A thin layer of frost covered the bluestone path, making a soft crunching sound underfoot. Qin Shuang was barefoot, her soles aching from the cold stones, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent.

Zhou Yang suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He turned around, his gaze falling on Qin Shuang's feet, which were covered in mud and blood. He didn't speak, but simply bent down and picked up a pair of cloth shoes that someone had left behind. The shoes were somewhat worn, but still relatively clean.

"Put it on."

He handed over the shoes in a flat tone.

Qin Shuang paused for a moment, then took the shoes. They were a bit big, hanging loosely on her feet, but at least she could walk in them. She looked up, as if to say something, but met Zhou Yang's dark eyes.

There was nothing in those eyes.

There was no concern, no pity, not even the chilling killing intent he had just displayed. He was simply making a deal, a deal with a clearly stated price.

"Let's go."

Zhou Yang turned around and continued walking forward. His shadow stretched long in the morning light, like a black shadow moving along the base of the wall.

Qin Shuang followed behind him, her cloth shoes making a clattering sound. She wanted to hurry, to get closer to the man, but with each step, her heart clenched tighter in her chest.

She suddenly realized her current situation.

A runaway bride, a wanted member of the Imperial Guard. Behind her lies the power of the entire Chen family, the pursuers from the prefectural governor's office, and those eyes lurking in the shadows.

The man before her was her only support.

But he was just a knife.

A knife that can be bought with money.

At the end of the alley, Zhou Yang stopped in front of a wooden door. The vermilion paint on the door was peeling, revealing the grayish-white wood underneath. He raised his hand and knocked three times, very slowly.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The door opened.

An old man with a hunched back peeked out, his cloudy eyes darting around in the morning light. When he saw Zhou Yang, his cloudy eyes brightened.

"You're here?"

"Um."

Zhou Yang nodded and stepped aside to let Qin Shuang go in first.

The courtyard was cluttered with odds and ends: dilapidated tables and chairs, a broken wooden horse, and dusty earthenware jars. A young woman was squatting by the well washing clothes. Hearing footsteps, she said without turning her head, "There's hot porridge on the stove. Help yourself."

Qin Shuang was stunned.

She hadn't expected this scene. There were no probing questions, no interrogations, not even any unnecessary pleasantries. These people were like people waiting for a family member to return home.

Zhou Yang had already walked to the stove and lifted the pot lid. White steam rose, carrying the aroma of rice porridge into his nostrils. He ladled out two bowls and placed them in front of Qin Shuang.

"eat."

There is only one word.

Qin Shuang took the bowl, the warmth of the bowl seeping through her palm. She lowered her head and took a sip; the rice porridge was thick, with sweet potato added, and it was sweet.

She suddenly felt her eyes sting.

She hadn't eaten or drunk anything since last night, and had been tied to a chair, listening to the sounds of revelry outside. She thought she was the loneliest person in the world.

But now, a bowl of hot porridge and a pair of ill-fitting shoes make her feel that life is good.

"Don't cry."

Zhou Yang's voice came from the other end of the line, "Crying makes you hungry."

Qin Shuang looked up and met his half-smiling face. She suddenly laughed, her shoulders shaking with laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks and into the porridge bowl, splashing up tiny droplets.

Zhou Yang.

She put down her bowl and looked at him intently.

"Thank you."

Zhou Yang didn't reply, but simply picked up the bowl and finished the porridge in one gulp. He stood up, walked to the corner of the courtyard, and pulled a cloth bag from under the woodpile. Inside were two sets of coarse cloth clothes, two straw hats, and several dozen taels of loose silver.

"Change it."

He threw one of the outfits to Qin Shuang.

"Is it safe here?" Qin Shuang asked in a low voice as she took the clothes.

"It's not safe."

Zhou Yang answered readily, "But it's better than outside. The Chen family won't be able to find this place for a while, so we can rest for two hours. After two hours, the city gates will open, and we can leave the city."

"Leave the city?"

"Yes." Zhou Yang nodded. "Staying here is suicide. Commander Chen is dead, and the Chen family won't let this go. They'll definitely seal off the entire city and search every house. We have to leave before they realize what's happening."

Qin Shuang fell silent.

She knew Zhou Yang was right. But she still had another question in her mind.

How did you know Commander Chen would die?

Zhou Yang stopped what he was doing and glanced at her. A strange light flashed in his eyes, like mockery or pity.

"He deserves to die."

He said.

Qin Shuang wanted to ask something more, but Zhou Yang had already turned around and started changing his clothes with his back to her. She had no choice but to swallow her words and take the clothes into the side room next door.

Two hours later.

The city gates of Anyang County slowly opened.

The morning light shone on the city walls, turning the mottled bricks and stones golden. The soldiers guarding the city yawned, leaning against the city gate, looking like they hadn't woken up yet.

Zhou Yang lowered his straw hat and followed the crowd out of the city gate. He was wearing a coarse cloth outfit and had a cloth bag at his waist, looking like a farmer entering the city. Qin Shuang walked three steps behind him, also lowering her straw hat to cover her slightly pale face.

They didn't speak, but simply walked one after the other, blending into the crowd.

As they left the city, the guards glanced up at them, their gaze lingering on Qin Shuang for a moment before quickly shifting away. He didn't recognize the woman with her head down as the Chen family's bride from the previous night.

After leaving the city gate, Zhou Yang did not stop and continued walking along the official road.

The sun gradually rose higher, its warmth bathing my back. The poplar trees by the roadside had begun to shed their leaves; the withered yellow leaves swirled in the wind, falling to the ground and being trampled into pieces by pedestrians.

After walking three miles, Zhou Yang suddenly stopped.

He stood under an old locust tree by the roadside, his gaze falling on a piece of paper pasted on the trunk.

That was a hunting warrant.

The paper was white with black characters, stamped with a bright red official seal. A portrait was drawn on it; though the drawing was rough, Zhou Yang's outline was vaguely discernible. Below the portrait, several lines of large characters stood out prominently—

"Zhou Yang, a traitor to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, colluded with the Demonic Sect and massacred his colleagues; his crimes are heinous. Anyone providing clues will be rewarded with five hundred taels of silver; anyone who captures and brings him to justice will be rewarded with one thousand taels of silver and granted the rank of a seventh-grade official."

Zhou Yang stared at the document for a long time, and a smile slowly crept onto his lips.

"One thousand taels."

He said softly, "My net worth has increased quite a bit."

Qin Shuang walked to his side, and after reading the contents of the document, her face turned ashen. She bit her lip, her eyes blazing with anger.

How could they do this...?

"They can."

Zhou Yang interrupted her, "They can do anything. Commander Chen is dead, and the Chen family needs an explanation. The Embroidered Uniform Guard needs a scapegoat. And we're perfect for that."

He turned around and continued walking forward.

"Let's go. We can't stay here any longer."

Qin Shuang followed behind him, her heart churning with complex emotions. She wanted to say something, but found herself unable to utter a single word.

She knew Zhou Yang was right. In this era, the truth never mattered. What mattered was who had power, who had influence, and who could write whatever they wanted on that blank sheet of paper.

She suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

Not for myself, but for the world.

The two walked another five miles along the official road before turning into a dense forest. Zhou Yang wandered around in the forest for a long time before finally stopping beside a huge rock.

He crouched down and rummaged through the rocks. After a moment, he pulled a bundle from the pile of dead leaves. Inside were two horses, two knives, some dry rations, and a water bag.

"This is something I prepared in advance."

He tossed a knife to Qin Shuang. "You know how to use it, right?"

Qin Shuang took the knife and nodded. As a commander of the Imperial Guard, she naturally knew how to use a knife.

"Mount up."

Zhou Yang mounted his horse and pulled on the reins. "We need to hurry. The Chen family will catch up soon. And—"

He paused for a moment, gazing into the distance.

"I heard that the Zhenwu Guard is already on its way."

"Zhenwu Guard?"

Qin Shuang's expression changed.

The Zhenwu Guard is an elite force directly under the control of the imperial court, specializing in handling difficult-to-solve murder cases and rebellions in various regions. Its members are at least Xuan-rank cultivators, and some even have Di-rank experts stationed within its ranks.

How did they get here?

"The Chen family's influence is even greater than I imagined."

Zhou Yang said calmly, "Although Commander Chen is dead, there are still members of the Chen family speaking in the court. They can not only turn black into white, but also portray the dead as heroes."

"hero?"

Qin Shuang frowned.

"Didn't you see the second page of that arrest warrant?"

Zhou Yang pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it to Qin Shuang. Qin Shuang unfolded it and read its contents—

"Commander Chen died a martyr's death in the line of duty. He was posthumously awarded the title of Prefect of Anyang, granted a thousand taels of silver, enshrined in the Temple of Loyal Martyrs, and his son succeeded him..."

She was so angry that her hands were trembling.

"They portrayed Commander Chen as a hero who died in the line of duty while suppressing bandits?"

"Otherwise what?"

Zhou Yang sneered, "Are we going to tell the world that Commander Chen died in a trap he set himself? That he was killed by a traitor from the Imperial Guard? Where would that leave the Chen family's reputation?"

He rode forward on his horse, his voice carried away by the wind.

"This is how the world has always been. The victors write history, the losers become sinners. All we can do now is survive, and outlive them."

"And then?" Qin Shuang caught up and asked.

"Then--"

Zhou Yang glanced back at her, a smile playing on his lips.

"Once I have enough money, I'll settle this score, item by item."

The two men galloped away on horseback and disappeared into the depths of the dense forest.

Behind them, on the city wall of Anyang County, several cavalrymen dressed in black were examining the arrest warrant. The leader wore a black cloak and had a long sword at his waist, the hilt of which was engraved with the three characters "Zhenwu Guard".

He looked at the portrait of Zhou Yang in the document, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.

"Zhou Yang..."

He uttered the name in a cold voice.

"I'd like to see if you can escape my grasp."

He mounted his horse and waved to the people behind him.

"Chase."

The sound of horses' hooves rang out at the city gate, extending along the official road before gradually disappearing into the rising dust.

The wanted poster fluttered in the wind, and Zhou Yang's portrait on it resembled a wild beast trapped in a cage, staring with its dark eyes at this upside-down world.