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

The mountain roads on the outskirts of Beijing were soaked by rain.

The soil, mixed with rotting leaves, made a sticky sound underfoot. The sky was overcast, like a wet, gray cloth, pressing down on one and making it hard to breathe.

Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang both changed their outfits.

They wore simple blue cloth short jackets, covered with straw raincoats, and topped with bamboo hats. They didn't have the flying fish robes of the Imperial Guards, nor the embroidered spring knives at their waists. They were like two ordinary travelers, completely inconspicuous in this desolate mountain area.

Qin Shuang walked ahead, her steps steady. Her long sword was wrapped in oilcloth and carried on her back, with only the hilt, wrapped in black cloth, visible. Rainwater streamed down the edge of her straw hat, forming a curtain of water in front of her.

Zhou Yang followed behind, three steps behind.

His hands were tucked into his sleeves, his fingertips slightly cold. The weather reminded him of many years ago, in another world, on a similarly damp afternoon. But there, the air didn't carry this faint smell of blood.

He stopped in his tracks.

Qin Shuang stopped immediately without turning around, but tightened her grip on the straps.

"Here it comes." Zhou Yang's voice was very soft, almost swallowed by the sound of rain.

Before he finished speaking, seven or eight dark figures suddenly darted out from the woods on both sides of the road.

These people were dressed in uniform black, their faces covered only by veils that revealed their eyes. They moved swiftly and silently, like a pack of wolves pouncing on their prey. In their hands they held poisoned short blades, which gleamed with an eerie green light in the dim light.

No nonsense.

The intent to kill is the only language.

Qin Shuang moved.

She drew her long knife with a backhand motion, and the oilcloth ripped with a crisp "sizzle" as the blade tore it. The gleam of the knife, like a pool of autumn water, drew a cold arc in the rain.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!"

Three rapid clashes.

Qin Shuang remained motionless, yet her blade danced in a dense, impenetrable blur of silver light. She deflected all three poisoned blades, and the three men in black felt a numbness in their wrists, losing their grip on their short blades and dropping them into the muddy water.

Her swordsmanship was direct, without any fancy moves. Every strike aimed at the most vital joints. Fast, accurate, and ruthless.

The men in black hadn't expected this seemingly frail woman to possess such ruthless swordsmanship. They exchanged a glance, immediately changed formation, with two holding off Qin Shuang while the rest circled around to her flank and rear.

Zhou Yang remained standing still.

He stood like a statue, his gaze sweeping over the men in black. His eyes passed over Qin Shuang, who was fighting, and landed deeper in the woods.

There, there is still a breath.

Stronger, colder.

"Three on the left," Zhou Yang suddenly said.

Upon hearing the sound, Qin Shuang's blade shifted. The previously sweeping blade suddenly dipped downwards, then curled upwards along the ground. A black-clad man who was attacking from the left felt a sudden tightening in his ankle, a sharp pain shooting through him, causing him to lose his balance and fall forward.

Before he could get up, Qin Shuang's knife was already at his neck.

Blood, mixed with rainwater, stained the mud on the ground red.

Seeing this, the remaining men in black gleamed with ferocity. They ceased their probing and their attacks became increasingly frenzied. Blades whistled through the air.

Zhou Yang remained motionless.

He simply watched quietly, as if examining a game of chess. Qin Shuang's Xuan Yin power was their natural enemy. Their techniques carried a sinister aura, and upon touching Qin Shuang's sword energy, they melted away like ice and snow under the scorching sun.

Wherever Qin Shuang's blade passed, it always left behind a fine layer of white frost. When that frost touched the skin of the man in black, it immediately left a hideous black mark.

"Bang!"

Another body fell.

Qin Shuang's breathing remained steady, but a fine layer of sweat appeared on her forehead. These people were fearless and coordinated perfectly; it would take some effort to completely eliminate them.

Just then, a hoarse voice came from the forest.

"A Xuan Yin physique... No wonder. Qin Shuang, a centurion in the Embroidered Uniform Guard?"

A man dressed in a blood-red robe slowly emerged from the shadows. He wore no straw hat, letting the cold rain lash his parched face. His eyes were sunken, and his lips were purple, making him look like a skeleton draped in human skin.

He held a wooden puppet in his hand, which was made of straw and had a yellow paper with a blood talisman written on it.

Red-clad guardian.

As soon as he appeared, the remaining men in black immediately stepped back, protecting him in the middle.

"Remnants of the Heavenly Principle Sect." Qin Shuang spoke coldly, the tip of her knife pointing diagonally at the ground, blood dripping down the blade.

"Remnants? No, no." The red-robed protector laughed, his laughter like the mournful cry of an owl. "We are the true masters of this land. You are nothing but insects about to be crushed."

He raised his withered hand, holding the puppet, and aimed it at Qin Shuang.

"Blood Curse Binds the Soul!"

He muttered incantations, and the blood-red runes on the puppet seemed to come alive, moving without wind. Strands of blood-red threads extended from the puppet, piercing through the rain and heading straight for Qin Shuang.

The silk thread carried a fishy stench and a chilling aura, and wherever it passed, even the rain seemed to freeze.

Qin Shuang frowned. She could sense the malevolent energy of the curse trying to penetrate her meridians. Although her profound yin energy could counter it, the number of the cursed creatures was overwhelming, and a direct confrontation was not an option.

She took a deep breath, and a layer of visible white frost quickly spread across the blade.

"break!"

The long sword swept across, carrying a chilling aura.

The blade sizzled against the blood, producing a hissing sound like boiling oil being poured onto snow. The white chill and the red mist of blood intertwined, collided, and continuously vanished.

But the blood threads were endless, constantly gushing out from the puppet.

Qin Shuang's pressure increased sharply.

She had to fend off the blood trails while also keeping an eye on the men in black who could pounce at any moment. Her steps began to falter.

The red-robed protector's smile grew even more smug: "The Xuan Yin Qi is indeed impressive, but unfortunately, your cultivation level is too low. Today, you will become nourishment for my Blood Curse!"

Just then, a figure moved.

It wasn't Qin Shuang, it was Zhou Yang.

He pulled his hand out of his sleeve. His movement was so light, like a falling leaf, that he drifted to the side of the battle circle.

He didn't rush towards the red-clad protector, but instead walked towards the men in black.

A man in black noticed him and immediately lunged forward, brandishing a knife. The tip of the knife was aimed straight for Zhou Yang's throat.

Zhou Yang neither dodged nor avoided.

He simply raised his hand, pointed his fingers like a sword, and gently touched the wrist of the man in black.

There was no earth-shattering clash of energies.

Zhou Yang's fingertips looked pale and weak.

But the man in black screamed as if he had been branded with a red-hot iron. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground, and he staggered backward, clutching his wrist and looking at Zhou Yang in terror.

On his wrist, there was only an inconspicuous red dot. But that red dot was rapidly expanding, and black death energy spread upwards along his arm.

Zhou Yang didn't look at that person again.

His figure blurred, and he had already passed the two men in black. His steps were strange, as if he were stepping on the beat of a drum, each step landing precisely in the gaps between the opponents' offensive and defensive transitions.

He was like a slippery fish, darting through the clash of swords.

Wherever it passed, it would leave behind a suppressed scream and a flying weapon.

He didn't kill him.

It only left a red dot on them. The men in black soon discovered that the true energy within their bodies began to become chaotic and turbulent, like a wild horse running rampant through their meridians.

They lost their fighting ability, collapsed to the ground in agony, and convulsed uncontrollably.

The red-clad protector finally noticed Zhou Yang.

"Who are you?"

He sensed Zhou Yang's strangeness. This man didn't exude powerful true energy fluctuations, but his methods were extremely sinister, even more domineering than his own blood curse.

Zhou Yang did not answer.

He had already circled around to the side and rear of the red-robed protector, less than three zhang away.

"A dead person doesn't need to know that much," Zhou Yang said.

A murderous glint flashed in the red-robed protector's eyes. He sensed a threat; this man was more dangerous than Qin Shuang.

He stopped suppressing Qin Shuang with all his might, and instead split half of his bloodline, turning his head like a venomous snake to pounce on Zhou Yang.

"court death!"

The red-robed protector roared.

Faced with this sinister and vicious blood curse, Zhou Yang showed no fear whatsoever.

He didn't even use his internal energy to defend himself.

He simply opened his arms and met the crimson wave.

Qin Shuang's heart tightened upon seeing this.

She wanted to speak up and remind them, but it was too late.

The bloodline instantly engulfed Zhou Yang. He was completely enveloped in the thick crimson blood, as if he had fallen into a blood-red cocoon.

The red-robed protector revealed a cruel smile. His blood curse contained the resentment of hundreds of wronged souls; let alone an ordinary person, even a True Essence Realm expert would be annihilated if entangled with it.

However, the next moment, his smile froze on his face.

The blood cocoon was shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The blood vessels inside, like strands of noodles being sucked by an invisible giant mouth, surged wildly toward Zhou Yang's body.

Zhou Yang's body was like a bottomless black hole at this moment.

His half-corpse constitution gave him a natural craving for this kind of sinister and resentful power. When that power entered his body, it not only failed to destroy him, but instead, like dry wood meeting a raging fire, it was quickly refined by his "Innate Yang Technique" and transformed into the purest energy.

A faint layer of black mist appeared on his skin, the corpse poison repelling the invading yin energy. At the same time, wisps of pure yang energy were rising within his body, refining the blood curse power completely.

"This...this is impossible!" the red-robed protector exclaimed in shock.

He felt the connection between himself and the puppet being severed! His power was being devoured by it!

Zhou Yang slowly raised his head.

His eyes had no pupils, only a bottomless darkness. In that darkness, it seemed as if countless wronged souls were howling and struggling.

"Your strength is quite impressive."

Zhou Yang spoke, his voice hoarse, carrying an inhuman aura.

He took a step forward.

This step felt like stepping on the heart of the red-clad protector.

The red-robed protector felt an indescribable, terrifying pressure wash over him, making his legs weak and almost unable to stand.

He retreated in terror, his hands gripping a tight hand seal, trying to muster his last bit of strength.

But it was too late.

Zhou Yang's figure disappeared from the spot.

The next instant, he appeared before the red-robed protector.

He extended a finger, and at the tip of his finger, a wisp of blood-red energy that he had just absorbed but had already refined to an extremely pure state lingered.

That energy was like a tiny but deadly venomous snake.

"puff."

A soft sound.

Zhou Yang's fingertip gently touched the red-clad protector's brow.

There were no earth-shattering explosions.

The red-robed protector's expression froze. The fear, disbelief, and resentment in his eyes were all frozen in that instant.

He looked down and saw his chest.

A small, bloody hole was expanding. A surge of unparalleled pure Yang energy raged within his body, instantly destroying all his meridians and life force.

"You...you..."

He opened his mouth, but said nothing.

His body fell straight backward, crashing into the muddy water and splashing up a cloud of filthy water.

The puppet in his hand shattered into several pieces with a "crack".

With the death of the guardian, the remaining men in black all coughed up a mouthful of black blood, fell to the ground, and fell completely silent.

The blood-red raindrops dissipated.

In the woods, only the pattering of rain remained.

Zhou Yang stood amidst the corpses, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. The inhuman aura gradually faded, and the darkness in his eyes dissipated.

His face was pale, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Forcibly absorbing so much negative and resentful energy was a burden on his body. Although it didn't burn away his lifespan, his internal organs were burning with pain.

Qin Shuang sheathed her sword and walked to his side.

She handed him a water pouch.

"Have a drink," she said.

Zhou Yang took it, but didn't unscrew it; he just held it in his hand. The coolness of the water pouch made him feel a little better.

"The Star Gazing Pavilion, it seems quite a few people know about our past." Qin Shuang looked at the corpse on the ground, her tone indifferent.

"Not only that." Zhou Yang's gaze swept over the corpse of the red-robed protector. "This protector was quite strong, at the mid-stage of the True Essence Realm. The fact that the Heavenly Principle Sect sent him means that the things in the Star Gazing Pavilion are very important to them."

"It's also very important to us," Qin Shuang said.

The two exchanged a glance, and everything was understood without a word.

These troubles are just the beginning. If they can kill one protector, they can kill a second. But no one knows how deep the Heavenly Principle Sect's foundation truly is.

"Let's go." Zhou Yang unscrewed the water pouch, took a sip, and then handed the pouch back to Qin Shuang. "Don't keep them waiting."

Qin Shuang took the water bag and tied it back around her waist.

She glanced at Zhou Yang's pale face but said nothing.

The two turned around and continued walking up the mountain.

Their footsteps left two new lines of footprints on the muddy mountain path, which were quickly washed away and submerged by the rain, as if nothing had happened.

Only the corpses scattered on the ground and the lingering smell of blood in the air testified to the brief massacre that had just taken place.

The mountain road ascends, stretching deeper into the rain and mist.

In the distance, the outline of a pavilion loomed faintly through the clouds atop the mountain. Its lights shone brightly, like an eye that never dies out in the wind and rain.

We've arrived at the Star Gazing Pavilion.