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

The night was deep.

The wind in the alley is like a boneless snake, slithering along the walls.

Zhou Yang carried the sack. The sack was heavy, and every piece of gold and silver inside swayed and made a dull thud. In the quiet night, the sound seemed to strike his own heart. Qin Shuang walked ahead, clearing the way for him. Her shadow, cast by the moonlight on the wall, was stretched long, then quickly shortened.

They tried to stay close to the walls, avoiding the open spaces bathed in moonlight.

My breathing was deliberately kept very light.

The path beneath their feet was paved with bluestone slabs, worn and uneven in places. Every step had to be taken carefully. They couldn't stumble or fall. This bag didn't contain gold or silver; it contained their lives.

The two remained silent.

All communication was conveyed through glances and the simplest gestures. Turn left. Stop. There are people ahead. They were like two lone wolves returning from their hunt in the night, wary of everything around them.

The light of a lantern flickered from around the corner in the distance.

The two quickly slipped into a recessed doorway. It was an abandoned courtyard; the door was long gone, leaving only a dark entrance. Zhou Yang's back was pressed against the cold wall, while Qin Shuang was almost pressed against him. He could smell a faint, cool fragrance from her hair, mingled with the night's chill.

Footsteps approached from afar. It was a night watchman. He carried a lantern in one hand and a clapper in the other, his voice trailing off in the empty street, "Bang, bang bang."

"The weather is dry, so be careful with fire!"

The monotonous chanting gradually faded into the distance.

The two emerged from the doorway. Zhou Yang felt his back was soaked with cold sweat. He gave Qin Shuang a wink. Qin Shuang looked back at him, her eyes showing no fear, only complete calmness.

They continued walking.

After crossing three streets and bypassing two city gate towers, the familiar back door of the teahouse came into view. The wooden plank used for disguise was still in place. Qin Shuang stepped forward and gently pressed a loose brick next to it. The door hinge creaked slightly, opening a crack.

The two quickly slipped inside.

The door was closed and bolted. The whole world fell silent instantly.

The inn's backyard was piled with odds and ends, emitting a faint musty smell. They crossed the yard and went upstairs via the kitchen stairs. The whole process went unnoticed.

I returned to my room.

With a loud thud, Zhou Yang threw the sack on his shoulder to the ground. The sound was so solid that it shook the floor. He leaned against the door and let out a long sigh. His chest heaved violently, and his legs felt weak.

Qin Shuang walked to the table and lit the oil lamp that had been prepared beforehand.

The dim light from the DVD player dispelled the darkness in the room and also eased the last trace of tension on their faces. Under the light, Qin Shuang's face was somewhat pale, but her eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse without her even realizing it.

Zhou Yang waved his hand, walked to the table, sat down, poured himself a glass of water, and gulped it down. "Not bad. Just a little tired."

He looked at the bulging sack on the ground and smiled.

"We're rich, Sister Shuang!"

Qin Shuang's gaze also fell on the sack. She walked over, squatted down, and untied the rope at the top of the sack.

"Splash—"

As soon as the bag was loosened, the contents rolled out.

It wasn't the neatly arranged banknotes one might imagine. Instead, it contained something more substantial: high-quality gold ingots, neatly stacked silver coins, and some loose silver coins and copper coins. Under the lamplight, the gold and silver shimmered with an alluring luster, instantly transforming this humble guest room into a splendid space.

The air seemed to be filled with the smell of money.

Qin Shuang reached out and picked up a gold ingot. The ingot felt heavy in her hand and had the characteristic coolness of metal. She ran her fingertips along the words "Capital Military Pay" engraved on the ingot, her eyes showing no ecstatic joy, only a calm acceptance of what had been settled.

"What can we do with this money?" she asked.

Zhou Yang was also watching. He kicked a silver ingot that had rolled to his feet, making a crisp "clang" sound.

"Buy a three-courtyard house in the best location in the capital, and hire a bunch of servants. The remaining money will be enough for us to do this for a year without having to do anything," he estimated. "That's enough start-up capital."

Qin Shuang put the gold ingots back into the pile of money. Instead of basking in the joy of her newfound wealth, she began to examine the other items in the sack. Besides the gold and silver, Zhou Yang also grabbed a few account books.

The ledger was wrapped in kraft paper, and the cover was already a bit yellowed.

Qin Shuang took out the account books one by one and placed them on the table. Then she put the gold and silver back into the sack, tied it tightly, and pushed it under the bed. She did all this methodically and efficiently, without the slightest hesitation.

After doing all this, she sat back down at the table and looked at the account books with Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang picked up the top book. The cover read "Pingxi Dang, Renyin Year General Record".

He opened it. The handwriting inside was very neat, the standard handwriting of an accountant.

Each entry was meticulously recorded. It detailed when something was received, how much silver was pawned, and whether it was redeemed. But Zhou Yang didn't spend time on these routine records. He flipped directly to the latter half, where some special records were kept.

There is no item name, only the date, a code, and a number.

For example: "March 7th, Xuan character mark, three thousand taels."

"May 12th, Earth character mark, 5,000 taels."

Further on, he saw a familiar word.

"June 19th, Heavenly Principles, 10,000 taels."

Zhou Yang's finger paused on that word. Heavenly Principle. Heavenly Principle Sect.

He told Qin Shuang, "This is originally the Eastern Depot's account. Pingxi Pawnshop is their money laundering tool."

Qin Shuang's gaze swept over the line of text, her brows furrowing slightly. "The Heavenly Principle Sect and the Eastern Depot are indeed colluding."

"It's not just a simple collusion." Zhou Yang flipped through the pages; there were many more entries similar to "Heavenly Principle," each with a larger sum of money than the last. "It seems the Eastern Depot is providing financial support to the Heavenly Principle Sect. Or rather, the Heavenly Principle Sect is using the Eastern Depot to launder some illicit funds."

This is an important discovery. But it was still expected.

Zhou Yang put down the first ledger and picked up the second one.

This ledger is older, with the words "Gengzi Year Flowing Water" written on the cover. Gengzi year, ten years ago.

He casually flipped it open.

The earlier pages were all normal business transactions. He patiently turned the pages one by one. Qin Shuang also came over to look, the glow of the oil lamp enveloping the two of them.

The only sound in the room was the rustling of papers being turned.

Suddenly, Zhou Yang's fingers, which were turning the page, stopped.

His pupils suddenly contracted.

It was a red record, written with vermilion pen, which stood out starkly against the otherwise black ledger.

"On the 23rd of September, 500,000 taels of silver were deposited."

Five hundred thousand taels.

Ten years ago, this was a huge sum of money that could shake the national treasury.

Zhou Yang's gaze moved down and landed on the "Destination" column.

"Capital City Commandery".

His breath caught in his throat.

The Capital Commandery, the yamen of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

He looked down and saw two tiny characters in the "Remarks" column.

"Final funds for the aftermath."

Funds for post-disaster relief.

Zhou Yang's brain buzzed. He abruptly raised his head and looked at Qin Shuang.

Qin Shuang also saw the words. Her face, under the dim light, instantly turned deathly pale. It was a white that went beyond shock, like the coldest snow in winter.

September 23.

The 23rd day of the 9th month of the Gengzi year.

Zhou Yang might not remember the date clearly, but Qin Shuang definitely did. It was a date etched into her very being.

The day the entire Qin family was wiped out.

Zhou Yang didn't speak. He just looked at her quietly.

He knew that any words of comfort would be futile now. The truth, like a knife, was laid bare before her.

The room was deathly silent.

Even the sound of the wick exploding sounded like thunder.

Qin Shuang's body was trembling slightly. Her fingers gripped the edge of the ledger tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force. Her eyes were fixed on the three words "Settlement Funds," as if trying to see through them to the paper.

This is no longer an ordinary account.

This is a bloody order, a clue leading to a deep-seated blood feud.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard used the money sent by the Heavenly Principles Sect to handle the "aftermath" of the Qin family's massacre.

The things involved behind this are chilling. The Eastern Depot, the Heavenly Principles Cult, the high-ranking officials of the Embroidered Uniform Guard... a huge net was already cast ten years ago.

Zhou Yang picked up the account book on the table.

His movements were slow.

He didn't close the ledger, but left it open, with the page that recorded the bloody truth facing Qin Shuang.

Then, he reached out and gently pushed the ledger in front of Qin Shuang.