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

Zhou Yang opened his eyes.

The roof was made of old wooden beams, covered in dust and draped with a few tattered cobwebs. Sunlight streamed in through the window cracks, casting a thin, elongated patch of light on the blue brick floor, within which tiny dust particles floated.

He moved his arm. A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder, as if someone were branding the flesh with a red-hot iron.

Memories slowly returned. The carriage, the firelight, and the jewel-encrusted golden scabbard in the hand of that eunuch from the Eastern Depot.

"woke up?"

Old Liu walked in carrying a bowl of medicine. His face was still sallow, but his eyes had regained their spirit. Recovery from illness is a slow and gradual process, and he had managed to pull through halfway.

Zhou Yang tried to sit up. Old Liu put down his bowl and pressed his withered hand on Zhou Yang's shoulder.

"Don't move. If that cut were half an inch deeper, your arm would be useless."

The medicinal liquid in the bowl was dark and steaming. The smell was pungent, a mixture of rotten grass roots and aged wine, making one's head throb.

Zhou Yang took the bowl and gulped it down. It was so bitter that his tongue went numb and his throat felt hot.

"Where is this?"

"Thirty li south of the city, Peach Blossom Village." Old Liu pulled up a stool and sat down, the stool legs scraping harshly on the blue brick floor. "Safe. The Eastern Depot's claws can't reach that far, at least not these next few days."

Old Liu pulled a cloth bag from his pocket. The blue cloth was washed until it was almost white, and the edges were frayed.

He unwrapped it layer by layer, moving very slowly, his fingers trembling slightly from his illness.

Inside was a booklet. The paper was yellowed, the edges were curled, and it was bound with coarse hemp thread. The three characters on the cover were faded ink: "Qing Nang Yi Pian" (The Lost Chapters of the Green Bag).

"Here you go." Old Liu shoved the booklet into Zhou Yang's hands. "I keep my word. You saved my life, so this book is yours."

The booklet felt very light, almost weightless. But Zhou Yang knew that it contained both life-saving techniques and deadly methods.

"You won't regret it?"

"Regret my ass." Old Liu coughed twice, his chest heaving. "I'm this old, am I going to guard it until I'm dead? You're better off with it. You're ruthless, but you still have a bottom line. That's better than anything else."

Old Liu lowered his voice and leaned forward.

"There's one more thing. It concerns Commander Qin."

Zhou Yang looked up. Birds were chirping outside the window.

"Her mother and I had some connection back then." Old Liu's eyes darted around, as if he were looking through a wall back to a long time ago. "The night the Qin family had their accident, she sent someone to deliver a bundle. Inside was a small garment and a jade pendant."

Where is he?

"She's dead." Old Liu's voice was flat and even. "She died fifteen years ago. She died of illness and was buried in the mass grave west of the city. But before she died, she said that the Qin family had an old friend still in the capital. His surname was Liu, and he used to be a tutor in the Qin household."

Zhou Yang frowned. Qin Shuang had never mentioned these things.

"That man surnamed Liu is probably working in the Northern Garrison of the Embroidered Uniform Guard now." Old Liu stood up, patted his knee, and said, "I don't know exactly who he is. But if Commander Qin wants to investigate what happened back then, he can start from this lead."

The curtain was lifted, and Qin Shuang walked in.

She changed into coarse cloth clothes, her hair simply tied up and secured with a wooden hairpin. Without her flying fish robes or embroidered spring dagger, she looked like an ordinary village woman.

But she still stood up straight.

She was carrying a tray with a bowl of porridge and a dish of pickled radishes on it. The radishes were finely chopped and drizzled with chili oil.

"Eat something when you're awake." She placed the tray on the bedside table; the bottom of the bowl clattered against the wood. "Dr. Liu says you can eat now."

Zhou Yang looked at her. She had dark circles under her eyes and her eye sockets were slightly sunken, clearly indicating that she hadn't slept well.

"Thanks."

Qin Shuang turned her face away. "No need. You saved me, I saved you, we're even."

"It's not even." Zhou Yang struggled to sit up, the movement aggravating his wound and causing him to wince in pain. "You owe me."

Qin Shuang turned to look at him, her eyes filled with complex emotions. There was gratitude, doubt, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

What do I owe you?

"The medicine money." Zhou Yang pointed to the bowl of porridge, the room, and the medicine, his finger slowly tracing over them. "It's all yours. Pay me back with interest when we get back to the capital."

Qin Shuang was stunned.

Then she smiled. The corners of her mouth turned up, and her eyes lit up. It wasn't a polite, perfunctory smile; it was a genuine smile that welled up from her heart, and even the corners of her eyes curved into a smile.

"Okay," she said. "Consider it a debt I owe you."

She picked up the bowl of porridge, scooped out a spoonful, and brought it to Zhou Yang's lips. The rice grains were cooked until they burst open and were steaming hot.

"My hand isn't broken." Zhou Yang went to take the bowl.

"Don't move." Qin Shuang dodged his hand. "Your back is also injured; if you break free, it will bleed again."

Zhou Yang had no choice but to open his mouth. The porridge was cooked until very soft, with the aroma of rice mixed with a hint of meat; it must have been made by Old Liu after he killed an old hen.

Neither of them spoke.

Sunlight slowly crept over the edge of the bed, illuminating the intertwined shadows of the two people. Outside the window, the wind rustled through the leaves.

Meanwhile, in Anyang County.

The gates of the Imperial Guard's Thousand-Household Office were wide open. A group of guards stood in the courtyard, their swords sheathed, their armor gleaming, yet they exuded a disheveled air.

The head of the Eastern Depot sat on a grand chair in the main hall.

His face was ashen, and he held a cup of tea in his hand. The tea had gone cold and a layer of oil had formed on the surface.

The Earthly Fiends Sect was reduced to a wasteland. The gunpowder depot was blown up, the main headquarters was burned down, and the sect leader, Du Sha, had a charred corpse that was unrecognizable when it was found in the ruins.

The Eastern Depot, however, became a hero because of its timely suppression of the rebellion.

The governor's office has already sent a plaque, wrapped in red silk, that reads "Eliminate violence and maintain peace." What a tremendous irony!

"Hey, sir!" a servant trotted in, his boots clicking on the floor. "It's a messenger from the eunuch."

The foreman took the bamboo tube and poured out the paper strip.

The inscription contained only eight characters: "Raising a tiger is a menace; nip it in the bud."

The foreman crumpled the paper into a ball. The ball made a creaking sound under the weight of his palm, his nails almost digging into his flesh.

Zhou Yang.

The name was like a thorn stuck in his throat, impossible to swallow or spit out.

Not only did that kid escape, he also made a laughingstock of himself. In front of so many people, right under his nose, he killed members of the Earthly Fiend Sect, blew up the gunpowder depot, and then got away unscathed.

Now that the Earthly Fiends Sect has been destroyed, the Eastern Depot has become the one cleaning up the mess.

"Pass down the order," the foreman spat out through clenched teeth, each word dripping with blood, "Block all major roads leading out of the city. Investigate! Dig three feet into the ground, find him!"

"And Qin Shuang, arrest her too! Kill her without mercy!"

The messenger accepted the order and left, his footsteps hurried.

The foreman stood up and walked to the window. Outside the window was the bustling Qianhu Office, with people coming and going, seemingly as usual.

But he knew that the young man was like a venomous snake. If he wasn't eliminated now, he would surely become a major threat later.

I'm afraid I'll never be able to wear that flying fish robe again.

In the courtyard of Peach Blossom Village.

Zhou Yang stood under the locust tree, trying to move his shoulder. The wound still hurt, throbbing, but he could bear it.

Qin Shuang was drying herbs. She spread the herbs out one by one and hung them on a rope. A breeze blew, filling the yard with a bittersweet fragrance, mixed with the smell of earth.

"Where to next?" Qin Shuang asked, her hands still moving.

Zhou Yang pulled the map book out of his pocket. It was something he had brought out from the secret chamber of the Earthly Fiend Sect; it had a sheepskin cover and several red dots marked on it.

"Northern Continent." He pointed to one of the markers. "The Earthly Fiends Sect has a branch over there. They have money, medicine, and people."

"Are you going to kill someone again?"

"Give me the money." Zhou Yang carefully put away the booklet and stuffed it into his pocket. "I'm very poor right now. I'm drowning in debt, and I have to pay it back."

Qin Shuang glanced at him. "I acknowledge your debt."

"That won't do," Zhou Yang shook his head. "Even between brothers, accounts must be kept clear. What you owe me, you have to pay back every penny."

"How will you repay it?"

Zhou Yang thought for a moment, "I'll owe you that for now. I'll ask you for it when I think of something."

Qin Shuang continued drying the herbs, her movements much lighter now. The wooden clothespins clipped onto the rope, making a crisp click.

A few barks of dogs and children's laughter drifted from afar. The afternoon was so quiet it felt like it had been stolen.

Zhou Yang knew that this quiet wouldn't last long. The Eastern Depot wouldn't give up, the Heavenly Principle Sect was still lurking in the shadows, and the capital was at the very center of the vortex.

But when it's time to rest, you should.

He sat down against the locust tree and closed his eyes. The bark was rough; he could feel it even through his clothes.

The wind rustled through the leaves.

After Qin Shuang finished drying the herbs, she went into the house and took an old garment, draping it over his shoulders.

"Don't catch a cold," she said.

Zhou Yang didn't open his eyes. "Remember to pay me back for my clothes."

"Okay."

Qin Shuang sat down next to him, with a fist's distance between their shoulders.

The setting sun cast long shadows of the two people onto the courtyard wall. The shadows were very close, almost touching.

Old Liu, carrying his medicine box, had already walked far away. His hunched back disappeared into the twilight at the village entrance, like a drop of ink dissolving into water.

Zhou Yang took out the book "Qing Nang Yi Pian" and opened it to the first page.

The tiny characters read: "A doctor's heart is benevolent, a poisoner's heart is murderous; it's all a matter of a single thought."

He closed the booklet and looked at Qin Shuang.

"Do you want to investigate that teacher surnamed Liu?"

Qin Shuang gazed at the horizon, where the sunset had painted half the sky crimson.

"I want to," she said, "but not now. Right now, I have to survive."

"Then let's focus on surviving," Zhou Yang said. "Only by staying alive can we settle scores."

Qin Shuang turned to look at him and smiled again.

This time, she laughed out loud. The crisp laughter drifted in the evening breeze, startling the sparrows in the locust tree.