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

Zhou Yang leaned against the headboard.

The bandage was wrapped five times, making his chest feel tight. Half a piece of partially dissolved donkey-hide gelatin remained in the medicine bowl, and oil floated on the brown soup. He stared at that layer of oil for a long time until the ward door was pushed open.

Dr. Liu was holding a sandalwood box in his hands.

The edges of the box were worn smooth, and the copper clasp was covered in green rust. The old man walked very lightly, his cloth shoes making a soft rustling sound as they scraped against the blue brick floor. He stopped in front of the bed, said nothing, and first wiped his hands on his clothes.

"My benefactor."

Dr. Liu's voice was terribly hoarse, like sandpaper grinding wood. He pushed the box forward, his knuckles swollen and his fingertips covered in calluses.

Zhou Yang didn't answer.

He first glanced at the old man's expression. The vertical line between his brows was deep, and his eyes drooped, but his gaze was clear, without madness or calculating glint. Only a ruthless determination, a willingness to burn one's bridges, was hidden in the depths of his cloudy eyes.

"Open it," Zhou Yang said.

Dr. Liu lifted the lid of the box.

Inside was a faded red silk lining, upon which lay a booklet. The booklet was thin, its leather cover curled at the edges, and it was bound with hemp thread. The three characters on the cover were blurred, and only the characters "Qing Nang" were legible; the back appeared to be half-eaten by worms.

"It was passed down from my ancestors." Doctor Liu's fingers traced the spine of the book, his movements very light, as if he were touching something alive. "My Liu family has been practicing medicine for four generations, and this is what we rely on."

Zhou Yang extended his hand.

The pages were brittle, rustling at the slightest touch. The first page featured a human-shaped meridian diagram, outlined in cinnabar, the ink long since blackened. Turning to the next page, one found prescriptions densely written in tiny characters, all containing strange and unusual names of herbs: Bloodstain, Corpse-like Herb, and Resurrection Herb.

The smell of medicine wafted from the pages of the book.

It wasn't the dry, musty smell of ordinary medical books; it was a medicinal aroma mixed with the scent of blood, making your lungs itch just from one whiff.

"Page seven," Doctor Liu reminded him, lowering his voice even further. "My benefactor, please look at that page."

Zhou Yang turned to page seven.

The paper was more yellow than before, and a corner was missing. There was no prescription written on it, but a strange pattern was drawn on it: a circle containing three intersecting curves, with four small characters written beside it: Blood Refining Method.

"This is an unorthodox method." Doctor Liu leaned closer, his breath carrying the distinctive stench of old age. "Using medicine or poison, one uses oneself as a furnace to refine the essence of the medicine. It bypasses the digestive system and goes straight into the bloodstream."

Zhou Yang's fingertip stopped on that pattern.

His internal systems suddenly reacted.

It wasn't a sound, but a direct sensation, like someone gently tapping his brain. Semi-transparent words appeared before his eyes, quickly piecing together information:

[Detectable material for fusion: "Qing Nang Yi Pian" (fragment)]

[Core Analysis: Blood Refining Method - Reverse extraction of life essence, conversion rate of about 30%, with room for optimization]

[Integration suggestion: Combined with "Innate Yang Technique", it can be improved into "Blood Refining Yang Technique"]

[Estimated Effects: Absorbs the essence of herbs, plants, and minerals, transforming it into lifespan and vital energy; no need to absorb the essence and blood of living people]

Zhou Yang's eyelid twitched.

He remained impassive, continuing to turn the pages, but his heart was in turmoil. The Innate Yang Technique was an evil cultivation method passed down to him by Fang Tian, ​​originally requiring him to drink human blood to heal injuries and prolong life. This was also the most unbearable part of his life as a half-human, half-corpse—the craving for blood felt like a fire burning in his throat.

There is now a new road.

"My benefactor saved my life, and not just my old bones," Doctor Liu suddenly knelt down, his knees hitting the ground with a dull thud. "He saved the Liu family's bloodline. I have no way to repay him, except for this."

Zhou Yang closed the book.

He looked at the old man kneeling on the ground. Dr. Liu's shoulders were trembling, but his back was still straight, not completely slumped. This was a man with unwavering conviction.

"Get up," Zhou Yang said. "I don't do that."

Dr. Liu didn't move.

"This book contains poisonous recipes." The old man raised his head, his eyelids drooping, but his gaze pierced straight at me. "It also contains recipes for saving lives. The Blood Refining Technique is even more heinous. Refining one batch of medicine consumes 30% of the medicine's potency and also depletes the practitioner's own vital energy. Someone in my Liu family tried it. After three years of refining, his hair turned completely white, and he became a cripple."

Zhou Yang understood.

This was both a warning and a test. Doctor Liu was telling him that this method had a price to pay, to see if he would still dare to use it.

"I know my limits." Zhou Yang tucked the book under his pillow. "Anything else?"

Dr. Liu's Adam's apple bobbed.

He stood up, supporting himself on his knees, his movements slow, his waist making a cracking sound. He pulled a yellowed piece of paper from his pocket; it wasn't from the box, but something he had always kept close to his body.

"Zhao Kun," Doctor Liu uttered the name, his teeth clenched tightly, "He has something in his hands."

Zhou Yang took the paper.

It was a rough map, depicting the topography of the capital city, with several locations marked with red circles using cinnabar. The edges of the paper had brown stains that had hardened and looked like blood.

"Fifteen years ago, my family practiced medicine in the capital." Doctor Liu's voice became flat, as if he were stating something unrelated to himself. "The Earthly Fiend Sect wanted the Liu family to refine a medicine called 'Human Essence Pill.' My father refused, and that night a group of bandits came. Of the seven members of my family, only my old servant survived."

He pointed to the red circle on the paper.

"This is the distribution of the Earthly Fiends Sect's hidden agents. My father gave it to me before he died, telling me to take revenge one day. I waited for fifteen years, but the opportunity never came. Instead, that dog Zhao Kun appeared. The one who led the killing back then was his father, Zhao Yanluo."

Zhou Yang looked at the map.

Seven red dots were scattered throughout the capital, marking teahouses, pharmacies, and coffin shops. The handwriting was messy, but the locations were clear.

"Zhao Kun is currently hiding at the Tongfu Inn in the northern part of the city," Doctor Liu said, his fingernails digging into his palm. "I want to get this map back. Not this one, but the original map, and half a scroll containing the secret methods of alchemy. That's my father's life."

Zhou Yang folded the sketch.

"so?"

"I know my benefactor is no ordinary man." Doctor Liu knelt down again, this time kowtowing, his forehead hitting the blue brick with a thud. "I beg my benefactor to retrieve it for me. All of the Liu family's savings, three hundred taels of gold, are buried under the old locust tree outside the west city. Please take them. I only ask that you burn the half-scroll of the book and the original map at my father's grave."

Zhou Yang didn't say anything.

He stretched out his left hand, looking at his palm. His skin was still pale, with bluish veins crawling beneath the skin like worms. Corpse poison flowed through his meridians, mingling with his internal energy, constantly tearing at his nerves.

He remembered last night.

As Qin Shuang left, a faint smile lingered on her lips. She recalled the sweet, metallic taste of blood exploding on her tongue when she licked her lips.

If there's no need to suck human blood anymore.

If you can survive by just taking medicine or poison.

"Three hundred taels isn't enough," Zhou Yang said, his voice hoarse. "I want the contents of that half-volume of the book."

Dr. Liu suddenly looked up, his eyes gleaming.

"My benefactor agrees?"

"Put it on the tab first." Zhou Yang threw back the covers, his legs still a little weak. He stood up, supporting himself on the edge of the bed. "I'll study the map for three days. Zhao Kun's head will be charged separately."

Doctor Liu was trembling all over, not with fear this time, but with uncontrollable elation. He pulled a brass key from his pocket and handed it over with both hands: "In the west cabinet, there are three century-old ginseng roots, the medicinal ingredients for the blood refining method. My benefactor..."

Zhou Yang took the key.

The metal was cold against his palm. He walked to the window and opened it. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still overcast, with clouds pressing down on the eaves like an overturned pot.

The sound of a night watchman's clapper could be heard in the distance.

Zhou Yang sensed the changes within his body. The system was analyzing the "Qing Nang Yi Pian" (Remnants of the Green Bag), and lines of new information surfaced deep within his consciousness. The path of true qi circulation was being redrawn in his mind, and the previously rampaging corpse qi seemed to have found a gentler channel.

He no longer needs to tear other people's throats like a wild beast.

Perhaps this life can still be lived like a human being.

"Go back and wait." Zhou Yang didn't turn around. "Bring the medicine over when it's ready. I want to try the first batch."

Dr. Liu wiped his face and walked away, his steps unsteady. The wooden door creaked shut, leaving behind the room filled with the aroma of medicine.

Zhou Yang pulled the book out from under his pillow.

He rubbed the sheepskin cover against his palm; it was as rough as the skin of some creature. He turned to the seventh page, staring at the illustration of the Blood Refining Technique, his fingers tracing the lines.

A surge of heat suddenly rushed through my body, from my dantian straight to my baihui point.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes.

He "saw" his own meridians, like a reddish net, with black, foul blood flowing within it. And at the intersection of the net, a new green shoot was sprouting.

That's the feeling of my lifespan increasing.

It's slow, but it's definitely growing.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes. A crow had landed on a branch outside the window, tilting its head to look at him. He grinned at the crow, revealing a very faint smile.

"Add Money Layman"

He told himself, "This time, it's a matter of life and death."

Zhou Yang carefully put the book away and began to dress. The wound under the bandage healed quickly; the corpse poison and the new cultivation technique were reaching some kind of compromise. He fastened his belt, tucked the knife behind his waist, and pushed open the door.

Sunlight streamed down the corridor, breaking into beams that shone on the puddle-filled floor.

Zhou Yang stepped on it, and water splashed up, wetting his trouser legs.

He was going to check on those three old ginseng plants.