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

The air inside the room seemed to have solidified, with only the occasional slight crackling sound of the burning lamp wick.

Zhou Yang sat behind the not-so-sturdy wooden table, toying with the tortoise shell he had taken from Wang Mang.

The tortoise shell wasn't large, about the size of a palm, with badly worn edges, giving it an old, withered yellow hue. The burn marks and cracks on it were intricate and complex, appearing at first glance like random cracks, but in Zhou Yang's eyes, it was a treasure map that urgently needed to be deciphered.

He picked up a piece of jerky with his other hand, tore off a sliver, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

The dried meat was hard and very salty, like old cured meat that had been pickled in a salt vat for half a year. But he ate it with relish, chewing each bite carefully.

Across from them, Zhang Fengzi was sweeping the bloodstains on the ground with a broom that had lost its bristles.

Wang Mang is gone; even his corpse has been dragged out and fed to wild dogs. The blood on the ground is Wang Mang's last trace, and also a testament to Zhang Fengzi's stab.

Zhang the Madman sweeps very slowly.

Normally, he sweeps as if he's venting his frustrations, wielding the broom with ferocious force, raising dust half a person's height. But today, his movements are very light, very slow, even somewhat cautious.

Zhou Yang didn't need to look up to know that this guy was spying.

That sticky gaze traveled from Zhou Yang's fingers all the way to the tortoise shell on the table, lingering there for a long time.

Zhou Yang swallowed the dried meat in his mouth and then took a sip of the cold tea beside him.

"If you want to see, then come and see. Why are you craning your neck like that? Aren't you afraid it'll break?"

Zhang Fengzi paused for a moment while holding the broom.

He looked up, and a rare hint of unease appeared on his face, which was covered in a messy stubble. This expression seemed somewhat comical on the face of this ruthless madman.

He hesitated for a moment, then put down the broom, wiped his blood-stained hands on his apron, and slowly shuffled to the table.

But he didn't dare reach out and touch it.

"This thing..." Zhang Fengzi's voice was hoarse, as if he had a handful of sand in his throat, "Where did it come from?"

"Left by Wang Mang." Zhou Yang didn't even look up, still staring at a crack on the tortoise shell. "What, you know divination too?"

Zhang Fengzi didn't reply. He stared intently at one corner of the tortoise shell, his eyes remaining completely still.

His breathing began to quicken.

Zhou Yang flipped the tortoise shell over, revealing several barely noticeable scratches on the back. The scratches were very shallow, as if they had been made with a needle tip, and could easily be mistaken for marks of time if not looked closely.

"I don't know anything about divination," Zhang Fengzi suddenly spoke, his voice even lower than before, "but I recognize paintings."

Zhou Yang's fingers stopped.

He finally raised his head and looked at Zhang the Madman.

"painting?"

Zhang Fengzi nodded. He stretched out his calloused and scarred fingers and pointed tremblingly to a corner at the very bottom of the tortoise shell.

"Look at this circle. There's a dot inside, and three lines outside."

Zhou Yang looked in the direction he was pointing.

There is indeed a tiny pattern there; if you don't look closely, you would just think it's a dent from a bump.

"Is that a star?" Zhou Yang asked.

"It's a star." Zhang Fengzi nodded, his eyes filled with an overwhelming sense of melancholy. "This is 'Lonely Star.' It signifies loneliness and hardship. It's... a symbol favored by those superstitious people."

As he spoke, his hands began to tremble uncontrollably, as if he were trying to suppress something.

Do you believe in fate?

Zhang Fengzi suddenly asked a completely nonsensical question.

Zhou Yang looked at him but did not answer immediately.

"I don't believe it," Zhou Yang said calmly. "Life is too precious. I only believe in money and the sword. Money can move mountains, and the sword can kill. That's enough."

Zhang the Madman laughed, but the laugh was more painful than a cry.

"I didn't believe it before either."

He pulled over a stool next to him, plopped down, and leaned forward as if he were putting all his weight on the edge of the table.

"Back then, I wasn't called Zhang the Madman. I had a name, a home that wasn't big but was quite warm. I had a mother who only knew how to nag, and a little sister who always liked to follow me around asking for candy."

Zhou Yang didn't speak, but just listened quietly.

The room was quiet, and this quietness provided Zhang Fengzi with an outlet for his emotions.

"My younger sister's name is Xiaolian. She was only six years old then, with two pigtails, and her eyes curved like crescent moons when she smiled."

Zhang Fengzi stared into the void, his turbid eyes seemingly reflecting scenes from long ago.

"That year there was a severe drought, and the crops failed completely. The government not only failed to provide disaster relief, but also imposed some kind of 'training tax.' Many people in the village starved to death. I was young and strong then, and I wanted to go to the city to find a way to make a living."

He stopped, his rough fingers picking at the splinters on the table.

"I entrusted my mother and daughter to my second uncle next door. I thought, he's my own uncle, I can't just leave them to die. I went to Blackstone City, carried heavy loads, did hard labor, and worked my ass off to save money. I thought that once I had saved enough, I would bring my mother and sister to the city for a good meal."

Zhou Yang put down the teacup in his hand, his fingertips tracing the rough porcelain surface of the rim.

"And then?"

"And then?" Zhang the Madman sneered, letting out a cold snort from his nose. "Later, I saved up enough money to go back, but the house burned down. My mother burned to death inside; we didn't even collect all her bones. My sister... disappeared."

His tone was calm, as if he were talking about someone else's business. But Zhou Yang could sense that beneath that calmness lay a volcano that could erupt at any moment.

"I've been investigating for three years."

Zhang the Madman suddenly raised his head, his eyes turning fierce. "I found out it was my second uncle who sold him. I chopped off one of his hands and found out where he went. He said he was bought by a passing opera troupe. I chased that opera troupe from south to north for five whole years."

"Did you finally catch up with him?"

"We caught up with them," Zhang the Madman nodded, "but all that's left are bones."

He looked down at his calloused hands.

"That opera troupe was just a front. They were actually procuring 'trinkets' for important figures in the capital. My sister... had a fiery temper, refused to listen, and killed herself by crashing her head against a pillar."

Zhou Yang frowned.

This kind of clichéd yet incredibly real tragedy happens every day in this world.

"Then, for whom did you wield this knife?"

"For that important person." Zhang Fengzi gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tense. "The opera troupe leader told me before he died that the people who bought my sister lived in the capital. They all had a mark on them, exactly the same as the one on this tortoise shell."

He pointed to the "Lone Star" on the tortoise shell.

"He said it's called 'Star Tower.' It's the most mysterious place in the capital. The people there don't believe in gods or Buddhas, they only believe in the stars in the sky. They say that human life is determined by heaven, and who should live and who should die is decided by the stars."

"So my sister died because her zodiac sign was unlucky?"

Zhang the Madman suddenly stood up, kicking the broom to the ground. "To hell with the Star Constellation! To hell with life!"

He paced around the cell twice, like a trapped wild beast.

"I stormed into the capital. I killed the opera troupe leader, my second uncle, and many others. They said I was insane. Yes, I was insane. If I weren't insane, how could I have survived until now?"

He suddenly stopped, turned around and stared intently at Zhou Yang, his eyes bloodshot.

"I've seen the diagram on Wang Mang's tortoise shell before. There are similar symbols on the black-clad men who were chasing me. Although they're not exactly the same, I can smell the same pattern."

"That feeling of treating people like they're not human, but just numbers or toys."

Looking at Zhang Fengzi, who was trembling with excitement, Zhou Yang understood something.

This tortoise shell is more than just a map.

It is a key, and also a death warrant.

Wang Mang was the holder of that key, so he died. Zhang the Madman, on the other hand, was the one who kept trying to break down the door, only to end up with a bloody head.

"What do you want to do?" Zhou Yang asked.

Zhang Fengzi adjusted his breathing, forcing himself to calm down.

He stared at the tortoise shell on the table, his eyes filled with greed and despair.

"I want to find that place. I want to know who paid the bill, who gave the order. I don't believe in fate. I want to uproot that 'Star Tower' and smash it to pieces."

"But that's difficult." Zhou Yang calmly poured cold water on the idea. "Wang Mang was just a pawn. He didn't even have time to reveal the true purpose of this thing before he died. If you just want to kill people, there are plenty of others out there. But if you want to destroy an organization, this knife isn't enough."

"I know."

Zhang the Madman clenched his fist. "That's why I've kept this life. I don't want to die. I want to see that place collapse before I die."

He suddenly did something that surprised Zhou Yang.

Zhang the Madman, who was usually so arrogant and ruthless that he wouldn't even blink at someone beheading someone, suddenly bent his knees and knelt down on the ground with a thud.

The hard stone floor made his knees ache, but he didn't even flinch.

"Master Zhou."

He looked up, his eyes fervent. "I know you're smart. You can decipher this tortoise shell; you have a way. Even that old fox Wang Mang fell for your tricks. You can definitely do it."

"My life, Zhang Fengzi's life, is yours from now on. You can make me kill whoever you want. You can even skin me alive."

"I only ask you for one thing."

"Take me with you when all this is over, or when you find that place with this tortoise shell."

"I don't want credit, I don't want money, I don't want women. I just want to see that place, I just want to know who's pulling the strings behind the scenes."

Please.

He spoke those last three words with extreme emphasis, as if they were being forced out from between his teeth.

Zhou Yang looked at Zhang Fengzi kneeling on the ground.

The man had disheveled hair and wore a blood-stained prison uniform, reeking of sweat and rust. But his eyes shone with a frightening intensity. They held a pure, unadulterated obsession.

On the system panel, Zhou Yang saw Zhang Fengzi's data.

Name: Zhang Kuang (Zhang the Madman)

[Remaining lifespan: 3 years]

[Status: Mild Qi and Blood Reversal]

Loyalty: Unwavering (bound by shared goals)

Only three years?

This guy overexerted himself. That knife not only slashed others, but also slashed himself.

Zhou Yang reached out, picked up the piece of dried meat on the table, and handed it over.

"stand up."

Zhang Fengzi paused for a moment, then didn't move.

"I said, get up," Zhou Yang emphasized. "Kneeling looks bad. Besides, it's easy to ruin your knees. Who will run errands for me then?"

Zhang Fengzi hesitated before standing up, not taking the jerky, and continued to stare blankly at Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang shoved the dried meat directly into his hand.

"The clues on this tortoise shell point to the Imperial Observatory, or rather, to what lies behind it. It's a pit of fire; if you jump in, you might not even be left with ashes. Have you thought it through?"

"I've thought it through," Zhang the Madman answered without hesitation. "I was given this life by chance. Every extra day I live is a bonus."

"OK."

Zhou Yang nodded and pointed to the broom on the ground. "Sweep the floor clean. This is where we'll be living from now on, don't make it look like a pigsty."

Zhang Fengzi was taken aback, then a barely perceptible smile appeared on his face.

"Okay."

He grabbed a piece of dried meat, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed it vigorously. The dry, hard dried meat tasted like the most delicious delicacy in the world to him.

He picked up the broom and started sweeping again.

This time, his movements were no longer hesitant or cautious. The broom swept across the ground, making a "swish" sound, powerful and rhythmic.

Zhou Yang lowered his head again, his gaze returning to the tortoise shell.

Lonely Star.

Star Tower.

It turns out that there's something else behind this bone.

If that's the case, then this business seems to be even bigger than expected.

He dipped his finger in the tea and lightly drew a line on the table, passing through the main crack on the tortoise shell.

"Connect the three points, with the Lone Star as the guide..." Zhou Yang murmured to himself, his eyes turning cold.

"Looks like I'll have to find some time to visit that observatory."

The night was darker.

On the walls of Room A, the candlelight flickered, casting long, intertwined shadows of Zhou Yang and Zhang Fengzi, like two wild beasts lurking in the darkness, sharpening their claws and waiting for dawn.