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

Zhou Yang stepped over the threshold, his boots striking the bluestone slab with a crisp sound.

The main hall of the Emperor's father-in-law's residence was very tall, with vermilion painted on the beams and pillars, the color of which had darkened somewhat. Sunlight streamed in through the carved windows, casting diamond-shaped patches of light on the blue brick floor. Three round pear wood tables were set inside, each already laden with cold dishes. Thinly sliced ​​braised pork hock was arranged in a pagoda shape, accompanied by a dish of bright green pickled garlic.

The officials in scarlet robes stood in twos and threes, and when they saw Zhou Yang enter, their voices lowered.

Zhou Yang glanced around. To his left stood a tall, thin man, his goldfish-shaped pouch dangling from his waist, picking at a stain on his cuff with his fingernail. To his right was a short, stout old man, his face flushed, his forehead covered in sweat, holding a folding fan but not daring to turn it on.

No one came up to talk to him.

Zhou Yang walked straight to the main table. There was an empty seat there, directly opposite the hall door.

He had just sat down when footsteps sounded from the back room. Zhang Chengen, supported by a servant, slowly walked out. The old man was dressed in an ochre brocade robe, his hair was neatly combed, he had a smile on his face, and deep wrinkles were gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"Assembler Zhou has arrived." Zhang Chengen sat down in the main seat, a dark green thumb ring on his finger, and tapped the table lightly. "Young man, quick on your feet."

Zhou Yang cupped his hands in greeting: "Since the Emperor's father-in-law has invited me, I dare not delay."

"Sit, sit." Zhang Chengen raised his hand, gesturing for everyone to take their seats. "Today's family banquet is for family gatherings, not business. We'll just talk about our friendship."

The officials, all smiles, took their seats. The wine cups were white porcelain, with gold trim on the rims. Servants carried wine jugs around, pouring the wine into the cups, releasing a rich aroma.

Zhang Chengen picked up his wine glass, but his gaze fell on Zhou Yang's face: "Zhou Qianshi is so young, yet he has already entered the Northern Garrison Command. He has a bright future ahead of him."

"It's all thanks to Your Majesty's grace." Zhou Yang also picked up his cup, his fingertips brushing against the cool surface.

"That makes sense." Zhang Chengen took a sip of wine, put down his cup, and said, "We, as subjects, must understand our place. If we investigate too deeply into some things, we can easily hurt ourselves. Some people above don't like to see their subordinates being too serious."

He paused, then drew a circle on the table with his finger: "Some of my friends are no ordinary people. Their methods are beyond your imagination."

The hall fell silent. The plump old man stopped fanning himself, and the tall, thin man's hand, which was fiddling with his sleeve, froze.

Zhou Yang put down his wine glass, the bottom of which tapped softly on the table.

He reached into his robe and pulled out a blue cloth bundle. He placed the bundle on the table, untied the ribbon, and revealed a thick stack of account books inside. The edges of the papers were frayed, and the ink stains varied in shade, clearly indicating that they were not written by the same person.

"The Imperial Father-in-law is right." Zhou Yang turned to the first page of the account book and pointed to a line of text: "On March 17th, the Yangzhou Salt Administration sent three thousand taels of silver, marked as incense money to the 'Immortal Master.' I really can't imagine where this account came from."

Zhang Chengen's smile froze for a moment.

Zhou Yang turned another page: "On the ninth day of the fourth month, the Ministry of Works purchased stone materials, actually spending eight thousand taels, while the account recorded thirty-two thousand taels. The difference was signed by the person in charge, and the seal of the Imperial Father-in-law's residence was also affixed below."

His finger slid across the paper, stopping at a vermilion annotation: "Father-in-law, is this seal yours?"

A few gasps rang out in the hall. The folding fan in the fat old man's hand fell to the ground with a "thud." He bent down to pick it up, and sweat dripped from his forehead onto his boots.

Zhang Chengen didn't look at the account book; he stared at Zhou Yang, the temperature in his eyes gradually dropping.

"Zhou Qianshi, have you come to a banquet or to interrogate me?"

"Come and eat." Zhou Yang closed the ledger, looked up at him, and said, "But we need to eat, and we also need to settle the accounts. Otherwise, we might choke on it."

Zhang Chengen's fingers clenched the ring so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Just then, a maid in a green dress came over carrying a tea tray. She had her head down, and on the tray was a blue and white porcelain covered bowl, from which steam rose in wisps.

She walked to Zhou Yang's side, knelt down, and offered him tea.

The tray tilted.

The scalding hot tea spilled out, splashing onto Zhou Yang's flying fish robe. The dark fabric was instantly soaked, and tea leaves stuck to his cuffs.

"I deserve to die! I deserve to die!" The maid knelt down with a thud, her voice trembling.

Zhou Yang didn't move. He lowered his head, and his nose twitched.

The aroma of tea carried a faint hint of bitterness. It was the scent of mugwort mixed with sulfur, and a touch of the sweet, slightly fishy smell of photinia. He had smelled this aroma countless times in Fang Tian's study. Fang Tian would use this medicinal bath whenever he was injured while practicing martial arts.

Zhou Yang's eye twitched.

He reached out and grabbed the maid's wrist. The grip was strong; his fingers dug into her flesh.

The maid screamed and tried to break free.

Zhou Yang pressed his fingertip against her pulse. The blood vessels under her skin bulged abnormally, as if something alive was moving beneath the skin. The pulse was beating extremely fast, more than two hundred times per minute, and the rhythm was chaotic, with three long and two short beats, which was not a normal heartbeat at all.

Medicine person.

The Heavenly Principle Sect uses a secret medicine to create humanoid weapons that have no sense of pain, possess immense strength, and have poisonous blood flowing through their bodies.

Zhou Yang raised his head and looked at Zhang Chengen.

Zhang Chengen's expression changed. He suddenly stood up, and the chair behind him made a screeching sound.

"Outrageous!" Zhang Chengen pointed at Zhou Yang. "How dare you act violently in the Emperor's father-in-law's residence!"

Zhou Yang stood up, still gripping the maid's wrist. The maid struggled, her eyes becoming vacant, and a gurgling sound came from her throat, like the low growl of a wild beast.

"Father-in-law," Zhou Yang spoke, his voice not loud, yet it drowned out the commotion in the hall, "the pulse of the maid in your household is quite strange. I happen to recognize this pulse. It is the 'Living Corpse Pulse,' indicating she practices the Blood River Scripture of the Heavenly Principle Sect."

He used force to lift the maid from the ground and pulled up her sleeve. The arm was covered with bluish-black veins, densely packed like a spider web, and the skin had an eerie translucency.

The officials in the hall were so frightened that they all retreated. The tall, thin man knocked over a wine pot, spilling wine all over the table.

Zhang Chengen's face turned ashen, his lips trembling as he stammered, "You...you're spouting nonsense!"

Zhou Yang released his grip, and the maid collapsed to the ground, unconscious. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly wiped his hands, but his gaze swept across Zhang Chengen's face like a knife.

"Whether it's slander or not, we'll find out by having the Court of Judicial Review and the Censorate investigate together." Zhou Yang threw the handkerchief on the ground. "However, the Grand Tutor just said that he has friends at the top. I wonder if this friend might be from the Heavenly Principle Sect?"

Zhang Chengen's finger trembled as he pointed at Zhou Yang, but he couldn't utter a word.

Zhou Yang straightened his soaked sleeves, bent down to pick up the account book from the ground, rewrapped it, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"The tea's spilled, and the food's cold." Zhou Yang walked toward the door, his footsteps echoing on the blue brick floor. "Father-in-law, today's banquet wasn't very enjoyable. Another day, I'll treat you to a meal at the Imperial Prison."

He walked to the door and glanced back at Zhang Chengen.

"It's quiet there, perfect for settling accounts."

After speaking, Zhou Yang stepped across the threshold and into the sunlight outside. The tea stains on his flying fish robe were half-dry, leaving a dark mark. He reached into his robe and touched the sachet; the hard object was still there.

Behind him, the sound of porcelain shattering and Zhang Chengen's furious roar echoed from the Imperial Father-in-Law's residence.

Zhou Yang didn't turn around. He mounted the horse by the door, spurred it on, and galloped off towards the Zhenfu Division. The wind lifted the hem of his robe, and the tea stain looked like an ugly scar in the sunlight.

He licked his lips and tasted a slightly bitter flavor.

That's the taste of Fangtian.