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, and raindrops continued to patter against the stone slabs outside the city walls. Zhou Yang walked lightly along the muddy path, holding a black obsidian seal in his hand. Ancient runes were engraved on the seal's surface, the very essence of the Longevity-Burning Technique left behind by Fang Tian.

He arrived at the abandoned pharmacy, where a tattered cloth curtain hung at the door. The curtain whistled in the wind, revealing a dim light inside. The lamp burned with pine resin, its light flickering and reflected on the mottled wall.

The drug-using person huddled in a broken wooden box in the corner, her face ashen, her breathing as weak as a withered leaf in the wind. Her hair was covered in dust, and her hands were clenched into fists, as if resisting something.

"Come out." Zhou Yang raised his hand, his voice low but carrying an undeniable air of authority.

The woman looked up, a flicker of panic in her eyes. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't utter a complete sentence. Only the two words "Fang...Tian" pierced Zhou's heart like a knife.

Zhou Yang remained silent for a moment, then turned and took out a silver ring from his sleeve. The ring was engraved with a nine-star pattern, the core of the longevity-burning ritual left by Fang Tian. Zhou took a deep breath, pressed the ring to his chest, and whispered, "Use longevity as fire, use blood as salt."

Instantly, a slight heat, like a needle prick, spread through his chest. Zhou felt his lifespan flowing backward like a tide, a year swallowed up in the blink of an eye. His blood boiled, flames ignited in his palms, yet they did not burn his skin.

The firelight reflected in the medicine-doll's eyes, seemingly pulling her back to her senses. Her lips twitched slightly, and finally she uttered a few words: "Fang Tian..."

The woman's voice trembled, like broken glass. "Fang Tian discovered... that the Heavenly Principle Sect is secretly colluding with the royal family... using our blood to refine elixirs of immortality." Her finger trembled as she pointed to an ancient painting on the wall. The painting depicted an emperor in a golden robe, with a Dharma King in a Taoist robe standing behind him.

"What do they want?" Zhou Yang's eyes were sharp as he tapped his ring lightly with his fingers.

A look of pain flashed in the medicine-doll's eyes. "The elixir of immortality can make people ageless and immortal. The Dharma King is in the capital, in charge of refining the elixir." Her voice was broken, but it revealed an address—an abandoned temple in the mountains behind the Forbidden City.

Zhou Yang nodded, put away the ring, and felt the emptiness in his chest. The dwindling lifespan made him understand even more clearly that each burning brought him closer to death. But this time, the information he gained was invaluable.

He turned and left, while the drug-using woman continued to mutter under the lamplight. Her voice gradually faded away, like a lingering echo in the wind.

Back in the carriage, Zhou wrapped the medicine man's cloak into a bag. The sound of horses' hooves echoed in the rainy night, striking the stone slabs, reminding him that the road ahead was still rugged.

The shadows cast by the streetlights were stretched long by the rain. Zhou Yang murmured to himself, "The Dharma King... is in the capital." He clenched his fist, his knuckles turning slightly purple from the residual heat of the burning incense.

The city gates opened, and the guards glanced at him but did not stop him. Zhou Yang stepped into the city, secretly calculating in his mind. First, he would find Qin Shuang and give her this clue; then he would go and find the entrance to the abandoned temple.

He entered the Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) headquarters and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Behind the door were rows of neat desks, the smell of lamp oil mingling with the fragrance of paper and ink. Zhou Yang threw the rag left by the medicine man into the brazier; the flames instantly consumed it, leaving behind a faint burnt smell.

Inside the yamen, Qin Shuang was discussing matters with several officials. Her brows were slightly furrowed, but she didn't notice Zhou Yang's arrival. Zhou Yang stepped forward and quietly reported the information about the medicine man to her.

Upon hearing this, a cold glint flashed in Qin Shuang's eyes. She said softly, "The Dharma King was taught by the core of the Heavenly Principle Sect from a young age, and his alchemy skills are enough to shake the imperial court." Her voice was emotionless, yet it carried a hidden warning.

Zhou Yang nodded and replied, "If we can seize the recipe for the Longevity Pill, the foundation of the Heavenly Principle Sect will be shaken." He suppressed the remaining memories of the Longevity Burning Technique in his mind to ensure that it would not be taken away by others.

Qin Shuang stood up, patted the gold-embroidered cuffs of her sleeves, and said calmly, "Let's go to that abandoned temple first. If we can find the Dharma King's alchemy furnace, we can destroy their plan in one fell swoop." Her gaze was icy, reminding Zhou Yang that this was a gamble with no turning back.

The two looked at each other, a tacit understanding flowing between their eyes. Zhou Yang knew that tonight's burning of lifespan had cost him a year of his lifespan, but the information he gained in return was enough to give him the upper hand in this game.

The rain stopped, and the water droplets dripping from the city wall shimmered under the lanterns. Zhou Yang reached into his pocket and gently stroked the obsidian seal, feeling its still slight warmth. At this moment, he was no longer a simple selfish individual, but a pawn whose personal interests were inextricably linked to the greater good.

He turned and left the government office, heading towards the hillside west of the city. The mountain path was rugged, the rocks covered in moss, and the occasional cries of wild animals echoed through the air. His heartbeat synchronized with his footsteps; each step he took felt like he was laying the groundwork for the next move.

The ruined temple on the mountaintop was faintly visible, with ancient runes carved on the remaining blue bricks amidst the ruins. Zhou Yang stood in front of the ruined temple, took a deep breath of the cold air, and felt a faint medicinal fragrance permeating the air, like a mixture of blood and herbs.

He spread out the tattered cloth covering the medicine doll and whispered the incantation left by Fang Tian. The talismans on the stone slab immediately lit up with a ghostly blue light, as if echoing his burning flames.

A faint passage appeared in the light, leading to a dark chamber underground. Zhou Yang stepped inside, gripping the ring tightly in his hand, preparing to uncover even deeper secrets.

In the dark room, his image was reflected in the bronze mirror hanging on the wall, and several lines of text appeared on the mirror: "The Dharma King should be cautious in his practice, for blood must not be wasted." These words, though marked by time, remained clear.

Zhou Yang frowned slightly, silently noting it down in his mind. To completely destroy the Heavenly Principle Sect, the Dharma King's alchemy plan must first be exposed.

He smashed the mirror, and the shards scattered on the ground. Under the lamplight, the shards emitted tiny specks of light, like falling stars.

At that moment, the mountain wind in the distance rustled the rubble of the ruined temple, producing a low, echoing sound. Zhou Yang turned and left, his steps no longer hesitant. The chill in his chest reminded him that the price of burning his lifespan had already been paid, and the only way forward was to continue.

He walked out of the abandoned temple, looked up at the starry sky. The dim starlight was obscured by clouds, but a few of the brightest stars were still visible. Zhou Yang chuckled softly, his tone laced with sarcasm: "Paying extra money to revive a deity always comes at a price."

Behind him, the gate of the abandoned temple slowly closed with a muffled thud. Zhou Yang didn't turn around, but quickly ran towards the city gate, preparing to hand this clue over to Qin Shuang.

The guard at the city gate looked up at him and noticed the obsidian seal on his chest was faintly glowing. The guard whispered, "The lord has returned."

Zhou Yang nodded, returned a faint smile, and stepped into the brightly lit street, his footsteps echoing rhythmically on the stone slabs.

Zhou Yang walked on the stone-paved road.

Lanterns hung along the roadside, their light spreading out to illuminate a small area. His boots clicked, one after another. The streets were quiet at night, with only the sound of his footsteps. The sachet in his arms pressed against his chest, hard and reminding him of the events at the Emperor's father-in-law's residence.

He did not return to the Zhenfu Division.

There's still a drugged person in that abandoned temple. That's a crucial clue; we can't let it go.

He turned into a narrower alley. This was the back of Anyang County, sparsely lit, with a damp, musty smell in the air. Zhou Yang's steps were light, like a cat's. He knew the terrain well; every corner, every hiding place was etched in his mind.

His residence was deep in the alley. An inconspicuous courtyard with two half-dead lanterns hanging at the entrance.

He pushed open the door, slipped inside, and quickly closed it again.

The room was completely dark, with no lights on.

Zhou Yang didn't turn on the light immediately. He stood behind the door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The room was simply furnished: a table, two chairs, and a cabinet. His gaze fell on the shadows in the corner.

There, a person was huddled up.

That's the drug person.

Zhou Yang took out a tinderbox from his pocket and blew on it. The tiny flame flickered, illuminating half of his face. He walked to the table and lit the oil lamp on it.

With a soft "snap," the room lit up.

The drug-addled man raised his head, his eyes vacant, his face numb. His lips were cracked and bloodshot. When he saw Zhou Yang, his body trembled, like a mouse seeing a cat.

Zhou Yang pulled out a chair and sat down, pushing the oil lamp closer to himself. The light shone directly onto the man's face, leaving him nowhere to hide.

"One last question," Zhou Yang said calmly, "Who is in charge of your Heavenly Principle Sect's presence in Anyang County this time?"

The person making the medicine made a hoarse sound in their throat, like they were laughing or crying at the same time.

"You...you can't escape..." he said haltingly, "The Dharma King...the Dharma King is watching you..."

"The Dharma King?" Zhou Yang tapped his fingertips lightly on the table. "Which Dharma King?"

"Blackwater... Blackwater Dharma King..." The medicine man's eyes suddenly lit up, filled with an almost frenzied fear and worship, "He is everywhere... His eyes... in the darkness... watching over everyone..."

Zhou Yang frowned slightly.

He hadn't expected that the Heavenly Principle Sect would actually send a Dharma King-level figure. Such a person was already a high-ranking member of the sect; ordinary commanders and centurions would only be able to kowtow before him.

"Where is he?" Zhou Yang pressed.

The drug-man grinned, revealing a sinister smile. "You'll soon... see Him..."

The voice just fell.

"laugh--"

A very faint whooshing sound.

Like a mosquito flying past your ear.

A beam of silver light shot in through a hole in the paper window, too fast to see clearly. The light was devoid of any warmth, cold as a piercing star.

It precisely sank into the patient's throat.

All the expressions on the man's face froze.

His mouth was still open, the eerie smile frozen on his face. A soft "gurgle" came from his throat, as if something was blocking it. Then, his neck tilted, and his whole body went limp, collapsing to the ground, motionless.

Only a tiny silver needle was inserted into his neck, its end trembling slightly in the lamplight.

Zhou Yang's pupils suddenly contracted.

He turned around abruptly and looked out the window.

The window was completely dark; there was nothing outside.

Just then.

A cold snort came from outside the window.

The voice was soft, yet it struck Zhou Yang's chest like a heavy hammer. Though not loud, it carried an indescribable air of authority and contempt.

Immediately afterwards, an invisible wave of air swept across the room.

Zhou Yang felt a tightness in his chest, as if a mountain was pressing down on him. The blood and qi that had just stabilized within him surged up instantly, like a pot of boiling water. He felt a sweet taste in his throat, followed by a metallic taste. He forced it down, but his face still paled slightly.

The True Essence Realm is complete.

This thought exploded in Zhou Yang's mind.

The opponent's true essence, transmitted from afar, was enough to cause his blood and qi to surge. This level of cultivation was far superior to his own. This was no longer a gap that could be bridged by technique; it was an absolute suppression of power.

Zhou Yang did not hesitate at all.

He shoved the chair aside and shot out like an arrow. He crashed through the window, splintering wood, and landed on the muddy ground in the yard.

He looked up.

A dark figure stood on the roof.

The figure was blurry, like a wisp of ink blending into the night. Its height and gender were indistinguishable; only an outline could be seen.

The shadowy figure didn't speak, but simply looked down at him. In that gaze, Zhou Yang felt like a rabbit being watched by an eagle.

Zhou Yang gathered his strength, pushed off with his feet, and shot towards the roof. Tiles shattered beneath his feet with a piercing sound. He had to keep up. He couldn't let this lead die out.

Just as he was about to leap onto the roof, the dark figure moved.

He didn't run; he simply swayed gently. His body, like a weightless leaf, drifted towards the roof of the neighboring house. The movement was incredibly effortless, without a trace of arrogance.

Zhou Yang chased to the rooftop and pounced again with all his might.

The shadowy figure rose and fell again, disappearing into the distance. It maintained a constant distance from Zhou Yang, neither too close nor too far. It was as if it were toying with him, or perhaps demonstrating an absolute, insurmountable gap in their relationship.

Zhou Yang's heart sank.

He pushed his speed to the limit, his true energy circulating wildly within his body. Each breath carried a scorching heat. But the distance between him and the dark figure was gradually increasing.

The shadowy figure's movements were too unpredictable. Sometimes it seemed to rush forward in a straight line, and other times it would move sideways, completely defying common sense. In just a few leaps, it had already covered three streets.

Zhou Yang landed on another rooftop, breathing heavily.

He watched the dark figure flash one last time on the distant rooftop before disappearing completely into the night.

Everything fell silent.

All that remained was the sound of the wind blowing through the eaves and the heavy pounding of his own heart.

He couldn't catch up.

They didn't even touch the hem of the other person's clothes.

Zhou Yang stood on the rooftop, the night wind ruffling his flying fish robe. He could feel his back was soaked with cold sweat. It wasn't fear, but a sense of powerlessness. That feeling of giving your all, yet not even being able to see your opponent's back clearly.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his surging blood and qi.

He jumped off the roof and returned to his yard.

On the ground, the corpse of the drug-using man remained in the same position. The silver needle was still stuck in his neck. The needle's end no longer trembled; it was all over.

Zhou Yang's gaze swept across the ground.

Suddenly, his eyes froze.

Something fell from the spot where the medicine man had just been lying.

That was a token.

He bent down and picked it up.

It felt cool to the touch, its texture neither gold nor iron, and it was quite heavy. The entire piece was jet black, as if carved from the deepest obsidian. On the front of the plaque was engraved a twisted river. Within the ripples of that river, one could vaguely discern countless struggling, ghostly faces.

Blackwater Order.

Zhou Yang's knuckles turned white from the force he exerted.

He recognized it. He'd seen it recorded in the Heavenly Principle Sect's archives. This was a token only a leader of the Dharma King level was qualified to possess. It represented the Dharma King's will. Seeing the token was like seeing the King himself.

Holding the token, he could feel a chilling aura creeping into his body through his fingertips. It wasn't true essence; it was a more domineering and sinister power.

Blackwater Dharma King.

A top-tier expert who has reached the peak of the True Essence Realm.

Zhou Yang slowly closed his eyes, recalling the cold snort and the surge of energy that made his blood boil.

He knew that from this moment on, the rules of the game had changed.

Previously, he faced opponents of similar rank, such as Commander Chen, or members of his own faction. He could use tactics, acting skills, and information asymmetry to win.

But now, a powerful expert at the peak of the True Essence Realm has set his sights on him.

This kind of enemy won't reason with you, nor will they play tricks on you. Their very existence is an insurmountable barrier.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes, his gaze devoid of fear, only filled with a cold calm.

He looked down at the Black Water Token in his hand, then glanced at the corpse of the drugged man on the ground.

The fact that the other party could so easily silence him indicates that they didn't want the drug user to reveal any more information about the Dharma King. Leaving this token behind is a blatant declaration and warning.

I'm watching you.

You can't escape it.

Zhou Yang twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a smile that was hard to tell whether it was self-deprecation or excitement.

He tucked the Blackwater Token into his robes, pressing it tightly against the sachet. One was icy cold, the other also carrying a hint of coolness. Two completely different powers, yet so close to him at this moment.

He knew he needed to become stronger, and quickly.

It was fast enough to have the strength to fight the Blackwater Dharma King before he made his next move.

He knew better than anyone what the price was for becoming stronger.

He walked to the corpse of the drug-using man and pulled out the silver needle. The needle was very thin and coated with a deadly poison; one strike would be fatal. He carefully put the silver needle away, then dragged the corpse and threw it into the dry well in the courtyard.

After doing all this, he went back inside and closed the windows again.

He sat at the table, without turning on the light, simply remaining quietly in the darkness.

He needs time to think.

Consider how to face this new and deadly enemy. Consider how much you will have to pay this time.