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

The room was deathly silent.

The smell of blood and herbs mingled together, creating a pungent odor. Zhou Yang clutched the brass key in his hand, its cold touch keeping him alert. He looked at Wang Mang, the once arrogant commander of the Imperial Guard, now slumped on the ground like a boneless dog.

"Interrogation?"

Zhang Fengzi rubbed his temples, recovering from Wang Mang's heavy blow. He looked at Zhou Yang, his eyes filled with confusion and wariness. "Zhou Yang, what exactly do you want?"

Zhou Yang didn't answer him. He stood up and looked around. The jailers all had their heads down, pretending to sweep the floor, but their ears were perked up. He laughed, a soft laugh that made everyone shrink back.

"Come here, everyone." Zhou Yang beckoned.

The jailers froze, too afraid to move.

"Come here," Zhou Yang repeated, his voice devoid of emotion.

He walked to the corner, picked up a broom, and handed it to the nearest jailer. The jailer was so startled that his hand trembled, and he almost dropped the broom.

"Clean this place up." Zhou Yang pointed with the broom at the bloodstains at Wang Mang's feet. "Especially here, don't leave a single trace."

The jailers exchanged bewildered glances, not understanding what was happening. But no one dared to ask; they could only pick up their tools and carefully begin cleaning. Blood mixed with dirt was scraped away bit by bit. Only the soft rustling of brooms against the floor remained in the A-cell.

Zhou Yang walked over to Wang Mang and squatted down. Wang Mang made a hoarse sound from his throat, like a broken bellows.

"Lord Wang Mang, don't be in such a hurry." Zhou Yang's voice was very low, only the two of them could hear it, "Your act isn't over yet."

He pulled a handkerchief from Wang Mang's waist and stuffed it into Wang Mang's mouth, silencing all the curses and threats. Then, he used Wang Mang's own belt to tie his hands tightly behind his back.

After doing all this, he stood up and dusted off his hands.

He said to Zhang Fengzi, "Brother Feng, go and stand guard at the door. If anyone comes in, tell them that Lord Wang Mang is personally interrogating a wanted criminal. No matter who asks, just say that."

Zhang Fengzi's brows furrowed into a knot. He glanced at Zhou Yang, then at Wang Mang, who was bound like a dumpling, and then at the prison guards who were feigning diligence. His mind was in turmoil, but given the situation, he seemed to have no other choice. He gritted his teeth, nodded, turned and walked out of the cell, standing like a gatekeeper at the door.

Inside the room with the character "甲" (jia), only Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang remained.

The jailers had already cleaned the ground and were preparing to leave.

"Wait," Zhou Yang called out to them, "Bring that box over here."

A jailer quickly ran to the corner, picked up the sandalwood box, and respectfully handed it to Zhou Yang. Zhou Yang took the box and waved it away.

"Alright, everyone get out. Remember, you didn't see or hear anything today."

The jailers, as if granted a pardon, filed out, and the iron gate closed gently behind them.

"Click".

The sound of the lock clicking shut followed.

Zhou Yang finally breathed a sigh of relief. He walked to the straw mat, sat down, and placed the wooden box on it. Qin Shuang also came over, her gaze sharp as she looked at the box.

This is what they fought so hard to get back.

Zhou Yang ran his fingers over the brass lock on the box lid. The lock was simple in design, and he opened it with a slight twist of the key he had just used.

With a creak, the lid was lifted.

A faint, yet lingering, scent of sandalwood immediately filled the air. Inside the box, a layer of bright yellow silk was laid out, upon which the two items lay quietly.

A letter, and a tortoise shell the size of a palm.

The envelope was sealed with wax and stamped with a small dragon-shaped seal, the Crown Prince's private seal. Zhou Yang used his fingernail to pry open the wax and pulled out the letter inside. The paper was very thin, made of the finest Chengxintang paper.

He unfolded the letter; the handwriting was neat and strong, but the content made his pupils shrink.

"...The dragon's bones have been found, possibly within the Imperial Observatory. We need the power of the 'Armillary Sphere' at the Observatory to pinpoint its location. This matter is extremely urgent; we urge the Master to make a swift decision..."

It contains only a few words, but the amount of information is astonishing.

Crown Prince. Head of the Heavenly Principle Sect. Dragon Bones. Imperial Observatory. Star Observatory.

These words, strung together, point to a massive conspiracy.

Qin Shuang also finished reading the letter, and her face was even paler than before.

"The Imperial Observatory?" she whispered. "That's a royal forbidden area, even more heavily guarded than the inner palace. Especially the Observatory, which houses star charts and armillary spheres from various dynasties, and is said to be protected by a protective array. No one is allowed to enter without the emperor's personal presence."

This is almost a dead end.

The clues pointed to a place they absolutely could not enter.

Zhou Yang didn't speak; his gaze fell on the tortoise shell.

He reached out and picked it up. It was cool to the touch, neither gold nor stone, and quite heavy. On the back of the tortoise shell was an intricate star map. Zhou Yang was very familiar with the arrangement of those stars; it was completely different from the starry sky of his previous life. It didn't seem like a map recording celestial phenomena; it was more like... an array.

Or, to put it another way, a coordinate graph.

"This star chart is very strange." Qin Shuang also came over to take a look. "I've never seen such an arrangement before. It's neither like the Purple Palace Enclosure nor the Supreme Palace Enclosure."

Zhou Yang ran his finger along the engraved lines. The engravings were deep, carrying a sense of age. He stared at the dots, feeling dazzled, unable to find any pattern.

The usual methods won't reveal anything.

He glanced at Qin Shuang, whose brows were furrowed, clearly also in a predicament. Zhou Yang made up his mind. He raised the tortoise shell, bringing it close to his eyes, almost touching his nose.

Then, he silently recited the system's commands.

"Burning life, analyze this substance."

[Host confirmed? Estimated lifespan loss: 30 days.]

Thirty days.

That's a considerable number. But right now, it seems there's no other choice.

"confirm."

Zhou Yang felt a slight dizziness, as if a part of his body had been instantly drained. A warm current surged from his heart, instantly flowing through his limbs and bones. The world before him changed at that moment.

The previously dimly lit cell was now illuminated.

It wasn't the light of lamplight, but a strange halo. The tortoise shell in his hand shone even brighter. The star map engraved on it was no longer lifeless lines.

He saw it.

Several strands of silver light, finer than a strand of hair, flowed slowly among the star-like engravings. They were like small, living snakes, wandering through the ancient array, sometimes converging, sometimes dispersing.

Ultimately, all the light streams pointed to a certain area on the star map. There, originally an inconspicuous dark star, was now flickering in Zhou Yang's vision, like the endpoint of a coordinate system.

The light converged there into a tiny point of light, then suddenly dispersed, transforming into an illusory straight line that shot into the distance.

Zhou Yang subconsciously raised his head and looked in the direction of that straight line. His gaze seemed to penetrate the prison walls, the buildings of the Northern Garrison, and the entire capital city.

He "saw" it.

The ray of light ultimately landed on the majestic imperial city. More specifically, on its northeast corner. There lay a vast complex of palaces, but within his field of vision, one area was shrouded in a thin, almost imperceptible layer of gray mist.

The energy is there, it gathers, and then it sinks.

"Found it."

Zhou Yang said in a low voice.

The heat subsided, and the dizziness disappeared. The world before my eyes returned to normal. The cell was still the same dimly lit cell, and the tortoise shell was still the same cold tortoise shell. But everything was different.

Seeing the change in his expression, Qin Shuang quickly asked, "What's wrong? What did you find out?"

Zhou Yang put down the tortoise shell, a determined light flashing in his eyes. He didn't answer directly, but instead stretched out his finger, dipped it in the remaining water stains on the ground, and drew a simple outline of the capital city on the cold ground.

Then, he pointed heavily at the northeast corner of the imperial city.

"Here," he said, "the Imperial Observatory's observatory might just be a front. Or rather, it's an amplifier. The real location is here."