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

In the dawn after the rain, the remaining water droplets on the tiles still trembled slightly. Zhou Yang reached into his tattered straw hat and pulled out a piece of black paper stained with blood—it was the Black Water Token. The back of the paper was drawn with blood jade patterns, shimmering with a dark red hue in the light. Beside it were a few lines of notes left by Fang Tian, ​​recording the specific time and place of the medicine man's death, as well as the key formula for the refining process.

He folded the paper tightly and tucked it into his sleeve. The embroidery on the sleeve was worn, but it still kept out a bit of the cold. He stepped into the dark alley, where lanterns swayed, casting dappled light. The light reflected in his dim eyes, like two heavy coins.

Not far away on the stone-paved road, Lu Chenzhou leaned against the porch of a dilapidated tavern. He was thin, yet exuded a calm and composed aura. The blue cloth curtain at the tavern entrance was soaked by the rain and hung loosely. Lu Chenzhou also had an obsidian seal engraved on his chest, its faint light flickering in the rain.

Zhou Yang approached and whispered, "Brother Lu, here is the information you need."

Lu Chenzhou raised his eyes, his gaze instantly turning sharp. His fingers lightly tapped the obsidian on his cuff, producing a low hum.

"The medicine man is dead," Zhou Yang continued, "and with the Blackwater Token in hand, the clues to alchemy have also been brought along."

Lu Chenzhou's brows twitched slightly, as if stirring up an undercurrent in his heart.

"The palace's alchemy room," he said in a low voice, "has started a new round of alchemy."

His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, but it couldn't hide the deep worry in his eyes.

"The emperor is obsessed with immortality," Lu Chenzhou added. "He has poured all his gold, silver, and treasures into it. The recent sacrifices have also been carried out in secret, and the offerings are no longer ordinary musk, but rare elixirs stolen from the secret chambers of the Heavenly Principle Sect."

He raised his hand and pointed to the majestic outline of the imperial city, where rain and mist formed a light curtain on the city walls.

"This matter involves the royal family and also touches upon the principles of heaven." Lu Chenzhou lowered his voice even further. "If we expose this matter, the court will fall into chaos, and it may even shake the foundation of the country."

After he finished speaking, his gaze lingered on Zhou Yang's back.

"I've already received enough benefits," Lu Chenzhou said calmly. "I already have the gold and silver, supplies, status, and intelligence. Continuing any further would be too risky."

Zhou Yang's hand trembled slightly, and the obsidian seemed to respond. Raindrops dripped from his hair, splashing onto the bluestone with a crisp sound.

He looked up, a barely perceptible smile flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a cold decisiveness.

"Someone wants to trade my life for his immortality," Zhou Yang said in a low voice, his tone firm and unwavering. "I don't agree to this deal."

His words seemed to silence even the rain. A flicker of surprise crossed Lu Chenzhou's eyes, before he fell silent.

In the darkness, several lights were lit on the distant city wall, as if reminding them that the alchemy in the palace had entered a crucial stage.

Zhou Yang put the Blackwater Token into his bosom and gripped it even tighter. His breath condensed into a thin white mist in the cold air.

"If you refuse to stop," Lu Chenzhou's voice was low and calm, "I can pull you off this path and leave you a safe way out."

Zhou Yang did not answer; only a faint laugh echoed in the post-rain air, like the sound of a broken bell.

"A way out?" He scoffed. "I don't need a way out."

He turned and left, his steps neither hurried nor slow, yet carrying an irreversible force. Rainwater slid down his collar, dripping onto the stone slabs with a crisp echo.

Lu Chenzhou stood still, a faint flame burning in his eyes. Raindrops gathered at the corners of his eyebrows, like drops of blood.

"Zhou Yang," he murmured, "if you go too far, don't forget that there's a road stained with blood behind you."

At the end of the street, the outline of the imperial city appeared and disappeared in the thin mist. In the distance, the sound of drums had already begun, heralding the start of a new round of sacrifices.

Zhou Yang did not turn around.

He stepped into the brightly lit market, a cacophony of voices filling the air with the scent of spices mingled with the earthy aroma of rain. His gaze swept across every corner, searching for the next person he could use for exchange.

On the market stalls, the blacksmith's hammer clattered, and the swordsman's blade flashed coldly through the thin mist.

An elderly man in a gray robe stood behind the stall and waved to Zhou Yang in a low voice.

"What you're looking for might be right here," the old man said, his voice carrying a faint hint of alcohol.

Zhou Yang stopped and gently touched the obsidian seal on his chest, feeling the faint vibration.

"Immortality," he murmured to himself, "should not be obtained by sacrificing someone else's lifespan."

He continued walking through the streets and alleys after the rain, the raindrops hitting the tiles like a series of alarm bells.

Every step he took treaded on the edge of power; every breath he took was stained with the scent of blood and iron.

"If I really have to make an exchange," Zhou Yang thought to himself, "then it can only be with my own blood."

He raised his hand, his fingertips tracing the mark on his chest, the blood gleaming at his fingertips.

This time, he was no longer just a trader.

The rain stopped, and the streetlights illuminated his silhouette, like a blade cutting through shackles.

His shadow gradually lengthened in the morning light until it disappeared into the shadow of the city wall.

The lamp in the Emperor's father-in-law's study was dimly lit, and the sound of rain outside was blocked by the heavy wooden door. Zhou Yang stood by the window frame, his hand tracing the obsidian mark on his chest, his fingertips slightly cool.

"Father-in-law," he said, his voice low and his tone carrying a hint of respect, "if I investigate further, I'm afraid it will harm my brothers."

The emperor's father-in-law raised an eyebrow slightly, one hand holding a teacup, the calm tea inside rippling. His eyes flickered in the candlelight, as if he could already see a chess piece fall into the corner of his own game.

"What do you intend to do?" the Grand Tutor asked calmly.

Zhou Yang remained calm and unhurried, raising his hand to reveal his palm print, and gently pressing it against the mark on his chest. The mark emitted a dim blue light, as if reminding him that there was still room for further action.

"I don't want to get entangled with the Heavenly Principles Sect," he continued, "I just want a hush money payment in exchange for me not pursuing it for now."

The emperor's father-in-law's gaze lingered under the lamplight for a few seconds before he nodded. After a moment, he pulled a gold-embroidered box from under the table and gently pushed it in front of Zhou Yang.

"This money is enough for your escape route," the Grand Tutor said in a low voice, "but if there are any further troubles, you will still be my weapon."

Zhou Yang tucked the box into his sleeve, his fingertips lightly touching the lid, feeling the heavy copper coins inside. Then, he turned and walked out of the study, silently memorizing the tone and look in the eyes of the emperor's father-in-law.

In the corridor, raindrops pattered softly against the bluestone walls. Zhou Yang's horse's hooves echoed on the wet stone slabs after the rain, as if striking a rhythm.

He stopped in a dark alley outside the city gate, raised his hand and took out a small silver badge. The badge was engraved with a black eagle, and a small dark red pebble was pressed on the back.

"Lu Chenzhou," he muttered to himself, then took out the swallow feather pen he always carried and wrote a few words on the stone chisel at the base of the wall: "Three days from now, the Dharma King will be refining elixirs at the Star Gazing Platform. Quickly prepare the brocade robes."

He folded the paper roll tightly and stuffed it into the hidden slot of the silver badge. The silver badge closed, and its shiny surface returned to its original state.

The night was deep, and the lanterns on the city wall cast pale yellow halos. Zhou Yang handed the silver badge to the messenger in black standing in the shadows—a boy named Xiao Du.

"Give this box of money and the note to Chen Zhou," Zhou Yang said, "to warn him to be on guard."

Xiao Du nodded, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, but he didn't ask any more questions and quickly turned away.

Zhou Yang returned to the house, removed the mark from his chest, and gently touched it. The blood-red light trembled slightly at his fingertips, as if reminding him of the price of his life.

He opened the cabinet and took out a set of short swords with dark patterns. The blades were stained with faint bloodstains, and although the edges were not shiny, they were exceptionally sharp.

"If they think I've surrendered," he muttered to himself, "that'll make them lower their guard."

Night deepened, the rain stopped, and starlight peeked through the broken clouds, illuminating the city towers. Zhou Yang stood at the top of the stairs, gazing at the distant observatory. The stone steps on the observatory remained weathered, and the wind swirled withered leaves like an invisible blade.

He sheathed his short sword and turned around; two Imperial Guards were already standing outside the door. Lu Chenzhou stood in the doorway, his eyes still gleaming with cold light.

"Did you bring intelligence?" Chen Zhou asked in a low voice.

Zhou Yang nodded and handed him the silver badge. Chen Zhou took it, opened the badge cover, and saw the words on the scroll.

"The Star Gazing Platform," Chen Zhou frowned slightly, "is where the Dharma King will be refining pills in three days. If they really intend to refine the Longevity Pill, they will definitely mobilize a large number of Dharma Protectors."

Chen Zhou tucked the silver badge into his sleeve and turned to give orders to the two guards beside him.

"Immediately mobilize 3,000 Left Guards to protect the Observatory. Report any unusual activity immediately."

The guards obeyed and left, leaving Chen Zhou and Zhou Yang staring at each other.

"Why don't you just tell me the Dharma King's whereabouts?" Shen Zhou asked.

Zhou Yang chuckled, his fingertips lightly touching the mark on his chest, where blood glinted.

"Information asymmetry is my bargaining chip," he said. "I'll let you set up your defenses first, and then you can decide how to make your move."

Chen Zhou remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

"In that case, I will move all available troops outside the city. If the Dharma King does appear, I will make him feel the sharpness of the Embroidered Uniform Guard."

Zhou Yang stood in the dimly lit corridor, feeling the faint warmth of the mark on his chest. The blood-red light danced at his fingertips, like a timer's spark.

He turned and left, his steps light yet carrying an undeniable determination. Footprints remained on the rain-soaked cobblestones, as if reminding everyone that every alleyway in this city might conceal a scheme.

As night fell, the lights of the observatory were already on, and the distant wind stirred up a thin mist. Zhou Yang's shadow stretched long in the lamplight, like a dark blade slicing through the silence of the city wall.

He didn't turn around, nor did he say anything more. Only the secret plan in his heart remained: feign weakness to gain an advantage and achieve a greater goal.