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

That open ledger was like a bolt of lightning piercing the night.

The light didn't come from the sky, but rather emanated from the paper. The three words, written in vermilion, stung the eyes.

Funds for post-disaster relief.

Qin Shuang's breathing stopped.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. She sat there, motionless, like a jade sculpture covered in ice and snow. Only her eyes, reflecting the candlelight, were slowly losing their light, being replaced by something deeper and colder.

Zhou Yang didn't speak. He just looked at her, at her hand gripping the edge of the ledger. Those hands were fair and slender, but her knuckles were now bluish-white from the force she was using.

"Clatter".

A soft sound.

It wasn't the account book that fell on the ground.

Without warning, a thin layer of ice formed on the porcelain cup on the table, which was filled with clear water. The ice flowers spread at a visible speed, climbing up the cup wall, touching the rim, and finally freezing the entire surface of the water into a murky piece of amber.

The temperature inside the room suddenly dropped.

It wasn't the dry cold of winter, but a chilling cold that seeped into your bones. The candlelight flickered violently, its glow shrinking to a tiny sliver, as if it might be extinguished at any moment by the sudden chill.

Zhou Yang's pupils contracted.

He saw wisps of white mist, barely perceptible to the naked eye, emanating from Qin Shuang's body. It was her uncontrollable Xuan Yin True Qi. If this continued, not only would she herself suffer a qi deviation, but this small guest room would also turn into an ice cellar.

No hesitation.

Zhou Yang reached out and grabbed Qin Shuang's hand, which was resting on the table.

A bone-chilling cold instantly surged from his palm; the temperature was even colder than a block of iron in the dead of winter. Zhou Yang felt as if his blood was about to freeze.

He gritted his teeth, then pressed his other hand hard against his dantian, forcefully activating the pure yang energy within his body, fueled by the burning of his lifespan. A scorching, domineering, and vibrant warm current surged down his arm, flowing continuously into his palm and into Qin Shuang's icy hand.

"hiss--"

The clash between cold and heat caused both of them to gasp in shock.

Qin Shuang's hand trembled violently, as if it had been burned. The out-of-control Xuan Yin True Qi collided with this unreasonable Pure Yang Power, like hitting an impenetrable wall, emitting a silent wail before being forcefully suppressed.

The chilling atmosphere in the room began to slowly dissipate.

The frost that had formed on the outside of the porcelain cup on the table began to melt, turning into droplets of water that slid down the cup.

Qin Shuang's body was no longer so stiff. She slowly raised her head and looked at Zhou Yang. Her eyes were no longer empty, but filled with a hatred burning with black flames. It was a kind of killing intent that Zhou Yang had never seen before, etched into his very bones.

"The Embroidered Uniform Guard..."

She spoke, her voice low, as if coming from the frozen depths of the earth, each word carrying the sharpness of ice.

"I killed them."

This was not an angry outburst, nor a slogan. It was a calm statement, a vow etched deep within her soul.

Zhou Yang did not let go of her hand. He could feel his yang energy neutralizing the chaotic true energy in her body, but he could also feel the overwhelming hatred in her heart, which was colder and more violent than the Xuan Yin true energy.

"Calm down," Zhou Yang's voice was deep. "If you rush out now, who can you kill?"

Qin Shuang's eyes were fixed on him, unfocused, filled only with a bloodthirsty hatred. "Kill one, and you're one. Kill two, and I've gained one."

"Naive," Zhou Yang interrupted her directly. "Do you think those people from back then would still be waiting for you in the same place after ten years? Ten years ago, the person who signed this 'post-disaster settlement' was at least a deputy commander. Ten years later, that person is probably now a garrison commander, or even a regional commander. You think you can even get into his mansion?"

Qin Shuang's body stiffened again.

Zhou Yang continued, his tone not harsh, but every word was like a hammer blow to her heart, which was about to be consumed by hatred.

"Even if you're lucky enough to find the minor official who handled it back then, do you really think someone who participated in such a massacre ten years ago and is still alive today would be an easy target? Who's behind him? Is it the Eastern Depot, the Heavenly Principles Cult, or an even larger faction within the Embroidered Uniform Guard? If you go now, it's not revenge, it's suicide. And you'll die quietly, just like your 173 members of the Qin family, ultimately not even making a ripple."

"Shut up!"

Qin Shuang abruptly pulled her hand back and reprimanded her sharply.

Zhou Yang's hand was still suspended in mid-air, his palm still tinged with her icy coldness. He looked at her, but showed no anger.

He knew she wasn't cursing him; she was cursing her own powerlessness and the messed-up world.

Qin Shuang's chest heaved violently as she stared at the account book on the table. Those three words seemed to mock everything she had endured. To avenge her family, she had infiltrated the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the very organization she hated most, proceeding cautiously and treading on thin ice. She thought she had been calm and patient enough.

But when she discovered that the enemy who killed her entire family had used money sent by the murderer to handle the "aftermath," she was shocked.

This kind of insult, treating human life like dirt and tragedy like a transaction, is more painful than killing her with a knife.

That wasn't a revenge killing.

That's... cleaning up the trash.

Qin Shuang's eyes reddened, but no tears fell. Her hatred had burned away all her tears.

Zhou Yang remained silent for a moment, then slowly closed the open ledger. The glaring vermilion characters were once again hidden within the yellowed pages.

He pushed the ledger aside and looked directly into Qin Shuang's eyes.

"Qin Shuang, look at me."

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable power.

Qin Shuang slowly shifted her gaze from the ledger to Zhou Yang's face.

"I know you hate," Zhou Yang said, "but you can't just destroy it like this. If you die, who will remember the 173 members of the Qin family? Who will even know about this 'liquidation fund'? Your hatred will truly be wiped clean."

He paused, then said, word by word, "This debt cannot be repaid by an impulsive life. If we are to repay it, we must repay it with interest. We will make those high and mighty people taste what it means to 'pay the aftermath' and what it means to 'clean up the mess'."

"We want them to kneel down and pick up each of the Qin family's memorial tablets, one by one, and clean them thoroughly."

Zhou Yang's voice wasn't loud, but it stirred up a storm in Qin Shuang's heart.

She looked at the man before her. He usually seemed like a money-grubber, his mind always filled with thoughts of making more money, how to survive, and how to live a more comfortable life. But at this moment, there wasn't a trace of calculation in his eyes, only a kind of... unfathomable darkness, just like hers.

It's a kind of madness that comes from being driven to the brink of despair, wanting to be an enemy of the whole world.

"How will you pay me back?" Qin Shuang's voice was hoarse, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. The fact that she asked this question meant that she had been pulled back from the brink of collapse.

"Let's think this through carefully." Zhou Yang sat up straight again. "This money is just the starting point. It connects the Heavenly Principle Sect, the high-ranking members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and the unseen thread of the Eastern Depot. We have account books, pawnshops, and everything we've obtained from them. This is the knife in our hands."

"But having a knife alone isn't enough." He looked at Qin Shuang, his gaze sharpening. "We need an even sharper knife, one that can truly tear this net apart."

Qin Shuang didn't speak, but her eyes told him that she was listening.

Zhou Yang picked up the teacup on the table; the ice inside had completely melted. He took a sip, and the icy water flowed down his throat, making his mind even clearer.

"The capital city is a deep pool. The two of us are just two small fish with a little strength, unable to make a big splash." He put down his teacup, making a soft sound.

"Therefore, we need to become stronger. Strong enough that even the big shots have to take us seriously."

He held up one finger, pointed to himself, and then pointed to Qin Shuang.

"I need more money to acquire greater power. You, too, need to climb higher and gain more authority. Once we have enough leverage to overturn the table, we'll lay these things out in front of them, one by one."

"That day, we didn't go for revenge."

A cold smile curled at the corners of Zhou Yang's mouth.

"We're going to settle accounts. To calculate how many lives were actually worth in this 'cleanup' fund ten years ago."

Outside, the night wind howled past, making the paper windows rustle.

Inside the room, the candlelight stabilized again, casting long shadows of the two people.

Qin Shuang looked at Zhou Yang, the overwhelming hatred in her eyes slowly subsiding and transforming into a hard, cold piece of iron. She knew Zhou Yang was right.

Impulse is the devil.

And she wants to be the hunter who wields a sharp blade and kills the devil.

She slowly picked up the closed account book on the table and hugged it tightly to her chest.

The weight of that ledger now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

That was a death warrant to hell, bought with the lives of 173 people from her family.

It was also a legal document that allowed her to truly see the true face of her enemy.

Qin Shuang raised her head and looked at Zhou Yang.

"I see."

She only said those four words.

But Zhou Yang understood everything from her eyes.

The iceberg had melted, revealing the burning volcano beneath.

From that moment on, she was no longer the Jinyiwei commander who only thought about protecting herself and waiting for an opportunity to take revenge.

She is Qin Shuang.

The Avenger, burdened with 173 blood debts, seeks to drag the entire Jinyiwei leadership into hell.