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

On the official road in the early morning, the thin mist still lingered. The sound of horses' hooves tapped out a rhythm in the silence. Zhou Yang gripped the reins tightly, his eyes fixed on the valley ahead. Qin Shuang sat in the passenger seat, holding a newly forged silver knife in her hand, its blade gleaming in the dim light.

Not far away, several dark figures appeared on the hillside. The pursuers from the Heavenly Principle Sect had already laid in ambush. The elder leader raised a black flag and whispered the order: "Ambush."

Zhou Yang snorted softly and said in a low voice, "They think we'll panic."

He turned his horse slightly to the left, revealing a narrow path. The horse's hooves caught on the stones, making a soft thud. The pursuers' whistles immediately sounded.

Qin Shuang raised her hand, the tip of her knife touching the riding whip. With a light flick, the whip shot out, striking the pursuers' sentry. The whip cord drew a sharp arc in the air, and with a muffled thud, the sentry's chest was slashed open. Blood splattered.

The pursuers panicked and rushed out of the mountain pass. The armor of the vanguard gleamed in the twilight. Zhou Yang turned to the side, a piece of obsidian appearing in his hand. It was the "Soul-Destroying Shard" he had recently obtained by trading his lifespan.

"Go!" he hissed.

He hurled the shards forward. A dark purple light instantly spread, and the shockwave was like a landslide. The pursuers' shields shattered, and their armor trembled violently in the light. Several assassins wielding spears fell to the ground, blood gushing from their chests.

Taking advantage of the moment, Qin Shuang leaped onto the horse's back, her blade slicing through two sword-wielding enemies. With a flick of the blade, the sword hilts snapped in two. The blades flew through the air and crashed heavily onto the grass.

Using the power of the fragments, Zhou Yang burst forth like a rabbit, his feet creating a crack in the ground. The pursuer's vanguard was kicked down, his helmet shattered, revealing a terrified face.

"Annihilate them all!" Qin Shuang shouted, pointing the tip of her blade at the last remaining soldiers.

In a panic, the man drew his dagger and lunged forward. Zhou Yang raised his hand, and the glint of the shard transformed into a dark blade, slicing through the dagger's guard. Blade fragments flew, and blood trickled from the dagger's wielder's mouth.

The battle ended, and the valley returned to silence. The bloodstains gradually dried in the soil.

Zhou Yang retrieved the fragments, his palms slightly cold. The cost of his lifespan was quietly slipping away from his fingertips.

Qin Shuang sheathed her sword and sat back on her horse. She said softly, "This time, I've delivered a satisfactory answer."

Zhou Yang smiled and said, "That's a way of putting their arrogance to rest."

They continued north, the sound of carriage wheels mingling with the wind on the official road.

The city walls of the capital rose into view at the horizon, their bricks and tiles resembling piles of old paper. The city gates were heavily guarded, and the flickering light of oil lamps cast swaying spots of light.

The two stopped their horses. Qin Shuang took out a string of copper coins from her sleeve and gently scattered them on the ground.

"Let's find a place to stay first," she said.

Zhou Yang nodded, his gaze sweeping towards the restaurant to the left of the city gate. A dark red sign hung at the entrance of the restaurant, reading "Golden Dragon Inn".

He walked in, greeted by a chorus of voices. The owner was a middle-aged man with a face covered in wine stains and a sly look in his eyes.

Zhou Yang handed over the copper coins, his voice low: "Rent a room, and drinks for tonight."

The owner smiled and said, "Please help yourself, esteemed guest."

The room was small, and the wooden bed creaked slightly. A landscape painting hung on the wall, the mountain peaks in the painting appearing to have bloodstains on them.

Zhou Yang unrolled the scroll and examined it carefully. It was an imperial edict, containing only one sentence: "Summon the Qin commanders to return and report on their duties."

He folded the scroll and put it in his pocket.

Qin Shuang stood by the window, gazing at the bustling city streets. The city was brightly lit, and the cries of vendors rose and fell.

She asked softly, "Who's in charge of finance in this city?"

Zhou Yang pondered for a moment and replied, "The 'Silver Willow Bank' in the north of the city is the largest, and its manager is Master Liu."

Qin Shuang nodded: "Let's go there first."

The next day, Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang arrived at Yinliu Money Exchange. The money exchange was located at the end of Qingzhuan Alley, with two golden cranes carved in front of the door.

Two guards dressed in black robes stood in front of the door, their expressions serious.

Zhou Yang raised his hand in greeting, his brows revealing confidence.

"I have important business to attend to." His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an air of authority that left no room for refusal.

The guards exchanged a glance, nodded, and stepped aside.

Inside the money exchange, the lights were soft, and gold and silver were piled high. Yin Liu sat on a sandalwood chair, gently twirling an ancient bronze coin in her hand.

He looked up, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"Zhou Yang," he said calmly, his voice carrying a scrutinizing tone.

Zhou Yang smiled and said, "Old Liu, I heard you can manage all the money in the city."

Old Liu raised his hand, and the ancient bronze coins flew between his fingertips, making a soft tinkling sound.

"I can command, but I won't risk my life for anyone."

Zhou Yang took a step closer and said in a low voice, "I need some working capital to help us establish ourselves in the city."

Old Liu stared for a moment, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Can you provide me with intelligence? I've been keeping an eye on the movements of the Heavenly Principle Sect."

Zhou Yang nodded: "We just wiped out a small squad of theirs on the official road."

Old Liu laughed: "Alright, I'll give you 100,000 taels of silver as a starting point."

Zhou Yang accepted the silver, his fingers lightly touching the purse, the silver making a crisp sound.

Qin Shuang stood to the side, a cold glint flashing in her eyes.

"Is there anything else?" she asked.

Old Liu shook his head: "Invest this money where you want it first."

After leaving the money exchange, Zhou Yang put the silver into the side pocket of the saddle, the weight causing the horse's back to sag slightly.

Back at the inn, he distributed the money to several familiar horse traders in exchange for an intelligence network.

As night fell, the lights reflected on the city walls, resembling blood-red patterns.

Zhou Yang sat by the window, gazing at the starry sky, secretly plotting in his mind.

This city is powerful, wealthy, and bloodthirsty. As long as you spend your money wisely, you can gain the upper hand in this game.

Qin Shuang walked in and handed her a cup of hot wine.

"Rest tonight, and report to the Northern Garrison Command tomorrow," she said.

Zhou Yang raised his glass, the aroma of wine mingling with the smell of stewed meat.

"Tomorrow's imperial prison will not be an easy place."

Qin Shuang chuckled: "With me here, who's afraid of who?"

Their eyes met under the lamplight, and after a brief silence, they each pulled themselves back to their own thoughts.

Tomorrow, the stone gate of the Northern Garrison Command will be opened for them.

On his first night in the capital, with money in hand and a sword at heart, Zhou Yang had already paved the way for his future.

The sun was shining brightly.

The poplar leaves along the official road were wilted by the sun, their branches drooping listlessly. The cicadas' chirping grew louder and louder, rising and falling, making people feel irritable.

Zhou Yang, riding on his black horse, raised his hand and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. This awful weather was unbearably hot. He untied his water pouch from his waist, tilted his head back, and took a swig. The warm water slid down his throat, offering no relief whatsoever.

"Lord Centurion, how much further ahead is it?"

He turned to look at the carriage.

The curtain wasn't lifted, but Qin Shuang's voice came from inside: "About thirty li more, after we pass Wild Wolf Slope, we'll see the post station."

Zhou Yang nodded and hung the water bag back on his waist.

Thirty li.

At this speed, we should be able to reach the post station before dark.

The carriage continued on its way, its wheels rumbling dully as they rolled over the hard, dry dirt road. Guard Zhang Tie rode behind, his back ramrod straight, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the trees on either side.

Zhou Yang noticed his action and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

He is a shrewd person.

No wonder Qin Shuang brought him along. Although his martial arts skills aren't top-notch, he's meticulous and extremely loyal. In times like these, a trustworthy person is more important than anything else.

They traveled for about half an hour.

As the sun began to set, the light turned a dim yellow. The scenery along the official road gradually changed; the trees became sparse, replaced by vast expanses of withered, yellow grass.

The wind blows, and the grass ripples and rustles.

Zhou Yang suddenly pulled on the reins.

The black horse snorted uneasily and pawed at the ground with its front hooves, as if it had sensed something.

"What's wrong?" Zhang Tie rode forward and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Zhou Yang did not answer, but squinted and looked around.

It's too quiet.

There were cicadas chirping and birds singing just a moment ago. But starting just now, those sounds suddenly disappeared.

The entire official road was eerily quiet.

He dismounted, squatted down, and carefully examined the roadside grass. There were a few dark red spots on the grass blades, dried by the wind, but the color was still there.

blood.

And it was human blood.

Zhou Yang stretched out his finger and rubbed the soil on the grass. The soil was mixed with dark red debris; he brought it closer and smelled a faint, fishy odor. It wasn't fresh blood; it had been there for at least two hours.

"Zhou Yang?" Qin Shuang's voice came from inside the carriage, with a hint of inquiry.

"Lord Centurion, please don't come out yet."

Zhou Yang stood up and lowered his voice.

"Something's not right here."

The carriage curtain was lifted, and Qin Shuang leaned out halfway. Her gaze swept around, finally landing on the dark red mark on Zhou Yang's fingertips.

"Blood?"

"Yes." Zhou Yang nodded. "And it's not new."

He turned around and walked a few steps along the official road.

Under an old locust tree by the roadside, several crows perched on the branches, tilting their heads and staring at them. The crows' eyes were black, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Zhou Yang noticed a clump of grayish stuff at the base of the locust tree.

He took a few steps closer and saw what it was.

A dead bird.

No, there was more than one.

Scattered under the locust tree were seven or eight bird carcasses: sparrows, magpies, and an unidentified wild bird. Their bodies were all intact, without any external injuries, as if they had been frightened to death by something.

"Master Baihu."

Zhou Yang turned around and waved to Qin Shuang.

"Take a look at this."

Qin Shuang jumped off the carriage and walked over quickly. She frowned when she saw the bird carcass on the ground.

"Poisoning?"

"It doesn't seem like it." Zhou Yang shook his head. "If it were poisoned, the body wouldn't be so intact. And..."

He pointed to the wild bird.

"Look into its eyes."

Qin Shuang looked down, her pupils slightly contracting.

The wild bird's eyes were wide open, almost bulging out of their sockets. Its beak was agape, and the feathers on its neck were ruffled.

It was like seeing something extremely terrifying before you died.

"Was he scared to death?" Zhang Tie also came over, his face looking rather grim.

"It should be." Zhou Yang stood up, dusting off his hands. "And the thing that scared them to death should still be nearby."

He raised his head and looked ahead at the official road.

The setting sun dyed the entire official road blood red. The road turned a corner ahead, blocked by a dense forest, obscuring the view behind it.

"Wolf Slope," Qin Shuang whispered. "It's just ahead."

Zhou Yang pursed his lips.

He had heard the name Wild Wolf Slope from the people of Anyang County. They said that wild wolves used to roam the area, and caravans were often attacked when they passed through. Later, the imperial court sent troops to eradicate them, and although the number of wolves decreased, the place's fearsome reputation remained.

Gradually, passing caravans would take a detour, preferring to spend an extra half day rather than pass through here.

"Take a detour?" Zhang Tie asked.

Zhou Yang shook his head.

"The detour would take more than thirty li, and we wouldn't reach the post station before dark. And..."

He paused, his gaze falling on the official road.

"If we take a detour, it's tantamount to telling them we've spotted them."

"The other side?" Zhang Tie was taken aback. "You mean someone is lying in ambush?"

Zhou Yang did not answer, but pointed to the ground.

"Look closely, how many tire tracks are there on this road?"

Zhang Tie looked down. There were many ruts on the official road, messy and disorganized, and he couldn't make out any clues. He scratched his head.

"I don't really understand these things..."

Zhou Yang sighed, squatted down, and pointed to one of the tire tracks.

"Look at this mark. The varying depths indicate the cart was loaded with heavy goods. And this mark is relatively new, probably formed about two hours ago."

He walked a few steps along the tire tracks and pointed to the bushes by the roadside.

"There were also signs of the car being trampled in the grass. Someone pushed the car off the road to the side, and then pushed it back onto the road."

Qin Shuang narrowed her eyes.

"You mean there's a car up ahead that deliberately stopped in the road?"

"It's not just about stopping."

Zhou Yang stood up, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"They are waiting."

What are we waiting for? It's self-evident.

Qin Shuang remained silent for a moment, then drew her Embroidered Spring Blade from her waist.

"Zhang Tie, be on guard."

"yes!"

Zhang Tie drew his sword in response and spurred his horse to the front of the carriage.

Zhou Yang also remounted his horse, holding the reins in one hand and resting the other on the hilt of the Shadow Fiend Blade.

The carriage continued on its way.

This time, the car slowed down considerably.

The official road bends ahead, bypassing the dense forest, and the view suddenly opens up.

A desolate hillside came into view. The hillside was covered with withered yellow weeds, with only a few old trees standing alone, and tattered strips of cloth hanging from their branches, swaying in the wind.

Wild Wolf Slope.

Right in the middle of the official road, a dilapidated cart lay across the road.

The cart was old; the planks were blackened, and the wheels were wrapped with several loops of hemp rope, clearly indicating that it had been repaired many times. Lying on the cart was a human-shaped figure, covered with a tattered straw mat, on which were stained with several dark red stains.

There was no one to pull the cart.

There was no one rushing to catch the train.

The entire cart stood alone in the middle of the road, like a silent barrier blocking the way.

Zhou Yang reined in his horse and his gaze fell on the cart.

His fingers rested on the hilt of the knife, his knuckles slightly white.

"Lord Centurion," he lowered his voice, "I'll go down and take a look."

"careful."

Qin Shuang's voice came from behind, calm, yet tense.

Zhou Yang dismounted and tied the reins to a dead tree by the roadside. He slowly walked towards the cart, his steps so light they were almost inaudible.

His gaze never left the cart.

They got closer and closer as they walked.

Ten steps.

Five steps.

Three steps.

Zhou Yang stopped and carefully examined the area around the cart.

The cart's wheels were stuck in the mud, and there were trampled marks on the surrounding ground. But those marks were very shallow and almost invisible.

He crouched down and brushed away the loose dirt from the ground with his fingers.

Beneath the loose soil, there were several extremely fine scratches. They weren't footprints, but more like some kind of claw marks.

The claw marks were very shallow, showing only three toes, each about an inch long.

He had seen these claw marks in Fang Tian's notes.

He is a spy of the Heavenly Principle Sect, named "Night Owl". He is skilled in disguise, extremely fast, and... bloodthirsty.

Zhou Yang's pupils contracted slightly.

"Zhou Yang!"

Qin Shuang's voice came from behind, sounding somewhat urgent.

Zhou Yang didn't turn around, but stared intently at the straw mat on the cart.

The straw mat moved.

The "corpse" slowly sat up.

A deathly pale face emerged from beneath the straw mat. It had no eyebrows, no hair, sunken eye sockets, and only the whites of its eyes, no pupils.

It tilted its head, looked at Zhou Yang, and split its mouth, revealing a set of yellowish-brown teeth.

"Guest...would you like a ride?"

Its sound was hoarse and grating, like two rusty pieces of iron rubbing against each other.

Zhou Yang's hand quietly tightened its grip on the knife hilt.