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

The Smiling Buddha gave only three clues.

"The hidden storage room is behind the old wine cellar; the wooden door bears knife marks, and it makes a sound when pushed with the left hand."

Zhou Yang stood in front of the decaying wine jar, his fingers gently tracing the fine lines on it.

My fingertips felt slightly cool, like the lingering warmth of an ancient well.

He took a deep breath of the damp air and walked with a steady gait.

Raise your left hand and gently push along the knife mark.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing a crack.

Dim light leaked out from the crack, like a sleeping eye.

Behind the door was a low-ceilinged warehouse, the air thick with the mingled scents of aged wine and rotting flesh.

The corner was piled with old wooden crates, and the ground was covered with gravel.

Zhou Yang's gaze was fixed on the sandalwood box in the very center.

The box had a dull luster, yet it possessed an aura that could not be ignored.

He reached out and grasped the lid of the box, feeling a chill seep into his palm from his fingertips.

My fingertips trembled slightly, but I had no regrets.

"Take it and go," he muttered to himself.

Just as he lifted the box, a dull bang came from behind him.

Qian Yishou had already lit the flare, and flames shot into the sky.

The firelight illuminated the stone walls of the warehouse and lit up the streets and alleys in the distance.

"Oh dear, Zhou Yang, trying to escape is futile." Qian Yishou's laughter was tinged with the stench of blood.

He stood at the edge of the firelight, holding the fire rope, his eyes flashing with a cold light.

"The agents of the Eastern Depot will be here soon."

Zhou Yang frowned, his mind racing.

The signal from the cannon was like the howl of a wolf, and camps several miles away would respond to it.

He had no time to turn back; he had to act first.

The box swayed gently in my hand, emitting a faint hum.

Zhou Yang lifted the lid of the box, his gaze instantly freezing.

Inside was not gold or silver jewelry, but a tortoise shell, its surface engraved with star maps.

The intersecting star lines on the star chart resemble an ancient nautical chart.

Several secret letters were also pressed at the bottom of the box; the paper was yellowed and the handwriting was slightly messy.

One of the letters was titled "Traces of the Dragon's Spine Fragments".

The other letter is the "Fangtian Testament," which reveals the secret codes of the Heavenly Principle Sect between the lines.

Zhou Yang was shocked, realizing that this was no ordinary treasure.

This tortoise shell may be one of the fragments of a dragon bone.

The location mentioned in the secret letter was his next stop on this trip.

He tossed the box toward Qin Shuang, and the box traced an arc in the air.

Qin Shuang caught it steadily, a scrutinizing glint in her eyes.

"Quickly, let's go," Zhou Yang commanded in a low voice.

At this time, the sentries of the Eastern Depot had already assembled outside the warehouse.

They carried long guns on their shoulders, their brows furrowed.

The distant sound of horses' hooves was rapid, like the hurried beat of drums in the wind.

Ignoring the soreness in his ankle, Zhou Yang lightly tapped his chest with his right palm.

He closed his eyes, and a faint blue light emanated from his palms.

The flame of life ignites within the body, instantly cleansing all the meridians.

"Full activation of body movement." He silently chanted in his heart, feeling the burst of energy in every meridian.

The light was fleeting, yet it made his steps as light and agile as a swallow.

He rushed towards the warehouse entrance, his figure sharp and swift, like a blade cutting through the wind.

Qin Shuang led two attendants and rushed out of the warehouse.

They clutched the box tightly to their chests and ran towards the back alley.

Zhou Yang glanced back and saw that Qian Yishou's figure in the firelight had been engulfed by flames.

"Don't look back," he whispered. "The Eastern Depot's guards have already laid an ambush ahead."

Qin Shuang nodded, but the moment she turned around, a man in black rushed out from the shadows, holding a short knife.

The assassin's blade was aimed at Zhou Yang's chest.

A cold glint flashed in Zhou Yang's eyes as he glided past like water.

The blade tip grazed the air, making a faint whistling sound.

The assassin's arm was jolted backward by an unseen force.

The dagger fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

Zhou Yang didn't look back and continued sprinting towards the alley entrance.

Qin Shuang followed closely behind, her steps steady, ensuring the box didn't shake at all.

The lanterns at the alley entrance swayed, illuminating two solitary figures.

The smoke from the distant cannons had not yet dissipated, and the air was filled with the bitter taste of saltpeter.

As they rushed out of the alley, dozens of agents from the Eastern Depot were already charging towards them.

Swords clashed and cries of battle rose and fell.

Zhou Yang dodged a long spear by sidestepping, his body tracing an arc in the air.

He seized the opportunity and shouted in a low voice, "Retreat!"

Qin Shuang nodded, and the two attendants immediately pressed the box to the ground and covered it with a cloth.

They then rushed together toward the side gate of the city wall.

The city wall was crudely built with stones, and the damp bricks and tiles emitted a musty smell.

Zhou Yang's footsteps made a sound between the rocks, like the dripping sound of an ancient well.

Thanks to the life force he had just ignited, his body became even lighter, and he barely touched the ground.

The sentry on top of the city wall saw the commotion and drew his dagger.

But Zhou Yang had already rushed in front of them, and with a flick of his palm, the blade broke in two.

The sentry cried out, took a step back, and then fell onto the gravel.

Qin Shuang's attendants buried the box in the soil in the corner of the wall and gently covered it with bricks.

She whispered to Zhou Yang, "Let's go back first, and then come back after we've brewed the medicine."

Zhou Yang nodded, but secretly memorized the star map on the tortoise shell in his heart.

There is a red dot in the center of the star chart, which seems to point to the mountains to the north.

He knew that the real crisis was yet to come.

The night wind blew across the city walls, carrying away the embers of the fire.

The distant whistling still echoed, a reminder that they were still being hunted.

Zhou Yang took a deep breath of cold air, and the blue light on his chest slowly dissipated.

He felt the pain of his lifespan being cut short, but he also gained a completely new movement technique.

At this moment, his eyes no longer held mere calculation, but rather a hint of murderous intent.

Qin Shuang glanced back at the covered box, a resolute glint in her eyes.

"Once we piece together the clues, we'll let them taste the consequences."

Zhou Yang smiled, raising the corners of his eyebrows.

"Survive first, settle accounts later."

They turned and ran towards the dark alley in the north of the city, the lights gradually dimming behind them.

The pursuers' bugle calls grew fainter and fainter as night spread behind them.

A lantern swayed precariously, casting long shadows of three people.

Their footsteps echoed softly as they disappeared into the pre-rain street.

Just as I turned the corner, I heard the sound of a bugle behind me.

The sound was sharp and short, like the howl of a night demon, instantly shattering the silence of the north of the city.

Zhou Yang's heart sank.

He knew without turning around that the guards from the Eastern Palace had been dispatched.

Fu Shou Tang must be in an uproar. That spineless Qian Yishou probably ran off to report them the moment he handed over the box. One hundred taels of gold—buy his life, and buy their whereabouts.

"Hurry up!"

Zhou Yang let out a low shout, no longer holding back his strength. His pace suddenly quickened, the bluestone pavement clattering under his feet like a rapid drumbeat.

Qin Shuang followed closely behind him, her Imperial Guard uniform standing out conspicuously in the night, but she couldn't care less at the moment. Her hand rested on the hilt of her embroidered spring knife at her waist, her breathing slightly rapid.

Zhang the Madman grinned, a hint of excitement even appearing on his mad face. He ran ahead like a wild beast that had caught the scent of blood, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground.

They walked through narrow alleyways. The walls on either side were high, cutting the moonlight from the sky into fragments. The air was thick with the damp, musty smell and the sour stench of garbage.

The sound of bugles behind us grew closer and closer.

Then came the sound of hurried footsteps.

Countless footsteps.

It came from all directions. Like a tide, it was surging in from behind an unseen dam, threatening to completely submerge their alley.

Zhou Yang's eyes sharpened. He realized something was wrong.

This is not a simple manhunt.

This is an encirclement.

"Exit ahead! Don't go out!"

He shouted suddenly.

But it was too late.

Zhang Fengzi had just stepped out of the alleyway when he stopped.

Outside the alley is a wide, long street.

At this moment, the street was completely blocked.

The torches shone as brightly as day. At least a hundred palace guards, dressed in their uniform black outfits and wielding gleaming broadswords, stood on either side, forming a wall of blades.

In the very center of the street corner, twenty crossbowmen knelt, their black crossbows aimed at the alleyway. The arrowheads gleamed with a cold, eerie blue light in the firelight. They were coated with poison.

If they dare to rush out, they'll be riddled with arrows in an instant.

A desperate situation.

Qin Shuang's face turned completely pale. She drew her embroidered spring knife; the blade reflected the fire, but it couldn't illuminate the chill in her eyes.

"Oh shit."

Zhang the Madman spat, turned around, leaned against the wall at the alley entrance, and assumed a fighting stance. His eyes, illuminated by the firelight, were so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

Zhou Yang's brain was working at lightning speed.

A direct assault would be a dead end. Their escape route is also blocked. These spies are well-trained; they're closing in quickly. In a little while, they might not even be able to get out of the alley.

His gaze swept quickly across the surroundings.

To the left is a high wall that can't be climbed. To the right is the back door of a house; we don't know if anyone is inside, and breaking down the door would only waste time.

Death lies ahead.

Behind them were pursuers.

His gaze finally settled on a shop diagonally opposite the alley entrance.

It was a fabric shop.

The shop was closed at the moment. However, the wooden signboard bore two characters: "Jinxiu" (meaning "brocade").

The cloth shop was full of flammable cotton and silk.

A thought flashed through Zhou Yang's mind like lightning.

He turned around abruptly and looked at Zhang Fengzi.

"Torch".

Zhou Yang's voice was calm, revealing no emotion.

"There's a torch by the wall at the alley entrance. Go get it."

Zhang Fengzi paused for a moment, then grinned. He instantly understood what Zhou Yang meant.

"Hahaha! Good! Burn these sons of bitches to death!"

He let out a low growl, his entire body resembling an enraged bull, and turned to charge into the alley. Just then, several pursuers blocked the other end of the alley, and without a word, Zhang Fengzi swung his fist and smashed it down.

The sounds of bones cracking and screams of agony mingled together.

He forcefully tore a hole in the crowd and grabbed a torch stuck in a crack in the wall. The flame shot up with a "whoosh," illuminating his wild face.

"Throw it in!"

Zhou Yang pointed to the cloth shop.

Zhang the Madman grabbed the torch, gave a sudden jerk of his arm, and flew a dozen steps with a streak of fire.

"Bang!"

The wooden window of the cloth shop, covered with paper, was smashed instantly.

The torch was thrown in.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

The fabric shop was deathly silent for a moment, then flames suddenly burst from the window!

Dry cotton cloth is the best accelerant. The flames seemed to come alive, greedily licking the fabric inside the room, and then spreading upwards along the roof beams.

Black smoke billowed out.

The barbarians standing at the street corner were thrown into chaos. No one expected these stray dogs to be so resolute, setting the street on fire.

The fire is fueled by the wind, and the wind fuels the fire's power.

The entire fabric shop quickly transformed into a giant furnace. Flames burst through the roof, illuminating half the night sky. A wave of scorching heat washed over them, causing the spies at the street corner to involuntarily take a few steps back.

Chaos is the best opportunity.

"Now!" Zhou Yang grabbed Qin Shuang's wrist. "Come with me!"

Instead of rushing towards the street corner, he pulled Qin Shuang along and turned into a narrower, darker side street. He knew the terrain of Anyang County better than the lines on his own palm. This side street was a dead end. But at the end of the street, there was a low wall, and behind the wall was another intricate old town.

"I'll hold them off!"

A thunderous roar came from behind.

Zhou Yang glanced back.

Instead of following, Zhang the Madman turned to face the pursuers. He picked up half a broken door panel from the ground, used it as a shield, and charged into the enemy's ranks.

"Hahaha! Come on! You bunch of cowards!"

He's crazy.

He's completely gone mad.

He swung the iron plate with tremendous force, deflecting the steel blade that came crashing down, and then smashed it into a man's skull. Blood and brains splattered. He didn't care, like a mad dog that had stormed into a sheepfold, each swing sending flesh and blood flying.

He single-handedly blocked the alleyway entrance.

Corpses piled up at his feet. Blades struck him with dull thuds, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, merely grinning, a grin more grotesque than a grimace.

Zhou Yang gritted his teeth and looked away.

Now is not the time for sentimentality.

He pulled Qin Shuang along, running swiftly through the narrow alley. They stumbled and nearly tripped over stones several times. Qin Shuang's breathing grew heavier, her wrists were icy cold and covered in cold sweat.

Don't look back.

Zhou Yang's voice was deep, yet it carried a strange sense of calm.

"Believe me."

Qin Shuang didn't speak, but gripped the knife in her hand tightly and followed.

They quickly reached the end of the dead end. The wall was about one and a half meters high, and it was quite difficult to climb.

Without hesitation, Zhou Yang squatted down and said, "Step on my shoulders and get up."

Qin Shuang looked at his tightly pursed profile and didn't mince words. She sheathed her knife, stepped on Zhou Yang's shoulder, and climbed over the wall.

Just as she flipped over, a sharp whooshing sound came from the alley entrance.

"Be careful!"

Zhou Yang suddenly turned around.

A barbarian leader clad in silver armor had somehow broken through Zhang Fengzi's defenses and was now standing in the middle of the alley. In his hand, he held a small crossbow.

The crossbow bolts were aimed at Qin Shuang on the wall.

Qin Shuang had barely steadied herself and hadn't even had time to react when the crossbow bolt, flashing with blue light, was already released.

too fast.

It was so fast that there was no time to dodge.

Zhou Yang's pupils suddenly contracted.

Time seemed to stretch out at that moment.

He could clearly see the crossbow bolt spinning, tearing through the air, heading straight for Qin Shuang's back.

He had only one thought in his mind.

We can't let her die.

She was his sugar daddy, his shield, the only tree he could lean on to catch his breath in this messed-up world. If she died, his own death wouldn't be far behind.

A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind.

[Host detected to be facing a fatal crisis. Should you burn your lifespan to instantly deduce the cultivation technique "Mysterious Steps" to its perfect state?]

"combustion!"

Zhou Yang roared wildly in his heart.

[One-year combustion life!]

An indescribable sense of detachment instantly spread throughout my body.

It was as if a piece of his soul had been forcibly ripped out. His body swayed, and everything before his eyes became incredibly clear.

Every brick and stone in the alley, the dust in the air, the reflection of the firelight on the blade of the scalpel in the distance... everything slowed down.

He could even see the detail of the barbarian leader's fingers slightly relaxing after he pulled the crossbow.

The profound mysteries of "The Lost Steps" seemed to flow into his mind as if they were innate. There was no process, only the result.

His body moved.

It wasn't fast; it was an incomprehensible strangeness.

His toes lightly touched the ground, and he floated away like a weightless leaf. The trajectory he took was completely illogical, as if he passed through a crack in the air.

In an instant, he covered a distance of five steps.

He did not try to block the crossbow bolt.

His target was the barbarian leader.

In everyone's eyes, Zhou Yang's figure only swayed slightly, like air distorted by the heat wave, and the next moment, he had already appeared in front of the leader of the barbarians.

The leader of the barbarians still wore a hint of disdain and cruelty on his face; he hadn't seen how Zhou Yang had gotten there.

He only saw one hand.

A pale hand, fingers pressed together like a knife, gently sliced ​​across his neck.

There was no violent collision, no terrifying sound.

It was just a very gentle movement.

"Click."

A crisp sound.

The barbarian leader's head drooped at an eerie angle, the light in his eyes instantly extinguished. The crossbow in his hand clattered to the ground.

He didn't even have time to let out a scream.

One blow kills.

The whole world seemed to have fallen silent.

At the alley entrance, the spies who were besieging Zhang the Madman stopped what they were doing. They stared blankly at the scene, at the white-robed scholar who had killed their most skilled commander with a single move.

Fear spread like a plague.

Zhou Yang didn't look at them. He bent down, picked up the crossbow, and shouted at the wall, "Let's go!"

Qin Shuang peeked out from over the wall, her eyes filled with shock. She looked at Zhou Yang as if she were seeing him for the first time.

Without hesitation, she flipped over and jumped off the wall.

Zhou Yang didn't linger. He pulled her along and plunged into the deeper darkness behind the wall.

Behind them came Zhang the Madman's increasingly frenzied roars and the shouts of the barbarians who hesitated and dared not advance any further.

These sounds were quickly left behind by them and swallowed up by the endless night.