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

Flagpoles stood tall before the city gate, their banners embroidered with the emperor's edict. Rain began to fall from the southern hills, the wind carrying a dampness as it caressed the official road. Guards on both sides held long-handled torches, their light reflecting off the gleam of their iron helmets. The Embroidered Uniform Guards and the Eastern Depot's guards stood in alternating formations, engaging in close combat yet maintaining a degree of restraint, like a handshake between two families.

The carriage stopped by the moat outside the city gate, the horses' hooves making a crisp sound on the stone slabs. Qin Shuang stepped down from the carriage with steady steps. She glanced down at the distant city wall, her lips not smiling, but her eyes showing calculation. Zhou Yang also dismounted from the other side, holding a seemingly ordinary folding fan in his hand. He approached the city gate, the fan slightly open, the air filled with the soft sound of raindrops falling on the fan ribs.

"Check luggage," the city guard shouted, his gaze sweeping over everyone. Qin Shuang nodded to him, and two Imperial Guards stepped forward. Zhou Yang closed his fan, smiled, and blocked them aside, saying softly, "Just take a look around, you can leave later." He offered no further explanation.

During the inspection, two guards forcefully opened the packages. Inside were silk, spices, and several small bottles sealed in tin. Qin Shuang calmly stood in front of the others, her eyes unwavering, yet exuding an imposing aura. Zhou Yang casually tossed a thin stone, which struck the ground with a dull thud. By the time everyone turned to look, he and Qin Shuang had already raised their hands and made other movements, their movements as swift as a rehearsed dance. Taking advantage of the chaos, he took several cinnabar talismans from his bag and stuffed them into a bundle of dry grass. The guards wanted him to untie the grass to make the connection, but they didn't really care about its contents. Qin Shuang silently pointed with the tip of her sleeve, her protective intentions clear.

At the city gate, guards were being deployed, shouting orders. Zhou Yang walked close to the wall, raindrops sliding down its surface, carrying the smell of earth. The sky hung low, as if about to be torn apart by thunder. Zhou Yang smiled and said, "The sky in the capital isn't this gloomy yet. We'll hear bad news when we get there." Qin Shuang didn't respond, only nodding slightly.

They stopped at a residence owned by Qin Shuang. The residence had high walls with slightly sharp eaves, and the black tiles on the roof gleamed dimly. A black banner embroidered with gold phoenixes hung at the gate, and two guards stood beneath it. Qin Shuang glanced at one of them and ordered them to open the iron gate. The courtyard was paved with bluestone slabs, their surfaces polished smooth by the rain. Stepping into the inner courtyard, one could see silvery raindrops flowing outside the windows, like finely woven curtains.

The room was simply furnished, with a tea set on a vermilion lacquered wooden table, the aroma of tea mingling with the dampness. A painting hung by the window, depicting a field in early spring, the brushstrokes vigorous yet fluid. Qin Shuang removed her cloak and draped it over the back of a chair in front of the table, saying, "Tighten the doorways; no one can come in casually." The guards by the window in front of the painting dared not move.

Zhou Yang's eyes searched the room for details. His gaze didn't linger on the paintings, but rather on a bookshelf. A dark red glow peeked through the cracks of the wooden door in the corner, like a lantern hanging in the night. He walked over, his fingertips lightly tracing the edge of the door, feeling the subtle undulations beneath the wood grain. The door wasn't locked from the inside, but the hidden latch was still there. Zhou Yang reached out and pressed it down, producing a soft mechanical click. A mixture of old paper and medicinal scents wafted from the dark room. Qin Shuang entered, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. She said, "This place is very safe, Zhou Yang. Get some rest tonight." She turned and looked out the window; in the rain, the metal doors and windows reflected a stream of water.

Qin Shuang took out a jade pendant, held it between her fingers, and gently tapped it on the edge of the table. She muttered to herself, "Let's see who's behind this." Then she walked to the desk in the inner room, took out a piece of paper from a drawer, and gently unfolded it. It was a simple map of the capital. She picked up the paper, pointed to a certain place, and whispered, "The Jinyiwei headquarters is under siege at the south gate; there should still be some room for maneuver." She picked up the pipe on the table, brushed the ashes with her sleeve, and then took out a communication talisman from the bamboo tube inserted on the side of the table. She gently blew out a puff of smoke, mixed with the scent of moon-white herbs, the smoke swirling in the air before being broken up by the coolness.

As night slowly fell, Qin Shuang began contacting her former subordinates. She had set up a signal system in a secret room, and a mirror reflected the figures outside. She whispered to the mirror, "Qin Zhao, are you at headquarters?" The light in the mirror flickered, followed by a deep male voice: "Yes, Commander Zhou Fan, on night duty. I smelled you." Qin Shuang nodded; his angular face was faintly visible in the image.

"There's been unusual activity around the Dragon Pillar area," she continued. Her voice remained low and clear. "The Embroidered Uniform Guard is investigating the Pigeon Pavilion; we don't want to provoke them," Qin Zhao said quickly, a hint of anxiety in her tone. "When are you arriving? Do you need me to get some receipts?" Qin Shuang lit a candle on the table, the flame making her profile appear even colder. "Keep things calm for now, don't let the Eastern Depot's spies see us. I heard they're planning to reorganize the Changing Clothes Battalion soon; it's quite a commotion." She almost whispered, but there was a subtle chill in her voice.

Qin Zhao agreed, and before hanging up, he reminded her, "Several batches of silver notes have arrived from over there. If we're going to transfer them to Baibaoge, we need to settle the accounts first." Qin Shuang left this message and hung up the phone. Her movements were efficient and composed, as if she were handling a battle she was already familiar with. She tied the message in a cloth bag and handed it to the guards watching in the dark room.

Meanwhile, Zhou Yang changed into plain clothes. He concealed the large sum of money in the lining of his sleeve, moving silently. His sable cloak was tucked into his bosom, making him appear as if he had stepped out of the shadows. He muttered to himself, "I need to go to the Hundred Treasures Pavilion and check the pigeon lodging's accounts." He tapped his sleeve, casually pulled out a silver whistle, and handed it to the servant beside him, saying, "You stay inside the house. Blow it if anyone comes at night, but don't let the Qin family hear it."

The carriage spun in the rain. Zhou Yang boarded one in front of the gate, and two burly men sat inside. The wheels rolled over the bluestone, splashing water as if someone were scattering circles of intent on the ground. They had come to the capital specifically to find the coveted "Hundred Treasures Pavilion." Piles of goods lay in the distance, and the sound of water could be heard in the darkness, like a river flowing through the night.

"The Hundred Treasures Pavilion is under East Street," the driver said softly, a hint of weariness in his eyes. They rounded a side alley, where a dark red lantern hung at the entrance, beneath which stood two merchants dressed in black. As Zhou Yang alighted from the carriage, he turned and nodded to the guard, indicating that he should use the back door. Raindrops pattered against the lantern. As Zhou Yang passed by, the two merchants' eyes flickered to him for a moment, but they pretended nothing was amiss.

At the end of the alley stood a small door, inscribed with the words "Treasure Pavilion." Golden phoenix patterns adorned the door, the tail feathers subtly outlined with fine lines, hinting at some kind of mechanism. Zhou Yang reached out and pushed the door open, revealing a ladder leading to a narrow stone path. Damp moss clung to the path's walls. He descended the steps, his feet remaining dry.

"Is the Pavilion Master here?" Zhou Yang asked in a low voice.

The door at the end of the stone path was ajar, and soft light emanated from within. A man in white robes sat before a desk, several wooden boards bearing different symbols laid out before him. On the boards lay inkstones and undried ink stains. The pavilion master raised his head, his eyebrows arching, his gaze sharp. "You've come at the wrong time," he said calmly, yet with a hint of testing in his voice.

Zhou Yang slammed a gold seal on the table. "I'm here to buy rare materials. I heard the pavilion has a unique copper mine." His voice was soft, and he smiled. "Business is business. If the pavilion master has time, we can talk." He turned his head and pulled out several small bags from his sleeve, containing several rare herbs. The pavilion master's eyes lit up instantly.

"Materials?" The Pavilion Master stood up, his figure not particularly robust, yet he stood ramrod straight. He said, "I do have the materials, but the rules of the Pavilion don't allow for trade." He turned slightly to the side, pushing a map on the table toward Zhou Yang. Several points were marked on the map. "The batch of ore you want is deep within Changfeng North Alley, and it must be transported by the Pigeon Pavilion. You want to see the Pigeon Pavilion now, but you lack an invitation."

Zhou Yang understood. He picked up the map, gently unfolded it, and placed his fingertip along the gold line. "I was just looking to see what the Pigeon Pavilion has been up to lately." He then picked up the gold seal and tapped it on the table. "If you help me by writing a notification from within, the Pigeon Pavilion will come on its own." As he said this, there was a subtle hint of persuasion in his voice.

The Pavilion Master remained calm, a flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes. "You'll have to pay a price for any information you want from the Pigeon Pavilion." He put down the map and looked up at Zhou Yang. "What price?"

"I can exchange the fortune slips," Zhou Yang said. He pointed to a wooden board in the corner of the table and said, "The messenger from the Pigeon Pavilion will receive the letter here. I'll lead the person to the door. You just need to tell me the nearest relay point of the Pigeon Pavilion."

The pavilion master hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded. He inexplicably felt the ground steam thicken, as if a storm had arrived in the alley ahead of schedule. Zhou Yang raised his cup and gently tapped it on the table, releasing the fragrant aroma of the tea leaves. He said, "Instead of waiting for the storm and handing your wallet over to someone else, it's better to leave it with me to trigger it." He stood up and pointed to a roll of cloth on the shelf beside him. "I've prepared the letter to the Pigeon Pavilion; it can be sent tonight."

The hidden fan at the foot of the steps slowly opened, and several figures moved in—the staff of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion. Each of them carried a bundled letter. Zhou Yang reached out and touched the rough edges of the papers. The sound of rain outside the curtain grew increasingly heavy. Zhou Yang said, "The city walls of this capital are as high as mountains; the Pigeon Pavilion has been lingering within them for quite some time."

The Pavilion Master nodded slightly. He stood up and took a piece of paper from the bookshelf, with a red ink stamp pressed in the center. He said, "Take this paper with you and write down your name and purpose. The Pigeon Pavilion will send someone to check it at regular intervals. If you need further information, I will provide a channel." After he finished speaking, he handed the paper to Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang took the paper, gently turned it over, and found the paper's texture firm. He took it out of his pocket, letting the torch illuminate the paper. He turned and walked towards the exit of the secret passage, his shadow slightly elongated in the lamplight. The rain grew heavier, and the lanterns along the city wall swayed in the wind, their flickering flames casting shadows.

He mentally calculated tonight's schedule. The Pigeon Pavilion was already far ahead, but he knew that as long as he held onto one end of the Treasure Pavilion, he could begin to emerge from the inner layers of that dark water. As Zhou Yang emerged, raindrops pelted his face, trickling down his hairline and clothes. He tucked the paper into his shirt pocket, smiling, and said, "Wait, I'll straighten out the Pigeon Pavilion's covert operation myself."

Qin Shuang was sorting through the good news in the courtyard. The mirror reflected the window behind her; raindrops, like silver arrows, pounded against the windbreak. She asked the maid in the inner room to brew another cup of tea, tapping the rim of the cup lightly with her fingers—a soft yet firm sound. The candle in the corner flickered slightly, illuminating the contours of her features. She leaned slightly forward, gazing out the window at the capital city. In the distance, the rooftops of the Golden Palace stretched out in a gray line in the rain, the sound of the rain like velvet spread across the tiles.

That night, the mountain shadows outside the capital were blurred by the rain, and the thunder, though not yet arriving, seemed to be already crouching in the distance, keeping time with its rhythm. Qin Shuang put down her cup, her voice lowering: "Zhou Yang, be careful tonight." She knew that the obstacles ahead were not easily overcome.

Zhou Yang walked towards the exit of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion in the rain. His steps were crisp, his cloak, soaked through, seemed to cling even more to his figure. The low-hanging clouds were pressed close by the night, and a distant red light flashed through the rain curtain, like a neon light or the lights of a military camp. The air below the city was thick with the rusty moisture of the rain, but his heart was filled with a deeper, darker gray. The sound of horses' hooves echoed on the hard ground, and in the distance, someone shouted, "The Hundred Treasures Pavilion is being rebuilt; you must go." Night would soon embrace the capital, and he was walking on the road that would usher in darkness.

The undercurrents beneath the city's surface are like water about to rise, waiting for someone to exert the strength to stir them up.

Master of Baibao Pavilion

Rainwater flowed down the eaves of the street, hitting the bluestone slabs and splashing up tiny droplets.

When Zhou Yang pushed open the heavy wooden door of the Treasure Pavilion, the copper bell on the door rang out crisply. He didn't go inside immediately, but stood at the doorway, letting the dampness on his body dissipate slightly. The pavilion was warm, filled with the scent of aged sandalwood and old books, a stark contrast to the cold, damp air outside.

An elderly man with white hair and beard sat behind the counter, slowly and meticulously wiping a jade Buddha statue with a soft cloth. His movements were gentle, as if caressing a lover's skin. Hearing the bell, he didn't even raise his head, only letting out a soft hum from his nose.

Zhou Yang took off his cloak and casually draped it over the wooden rack by the door. Water droplets dripped from the hem of his clothes, quickly spreading into a small dark patch on the floor. He walked to the counter and placed his hands on the rosewood surface. The wood was cool and hard, with a realistic feel.

"Old shopkeeper, are you in business?" Zhou Yang asked, his voice not loud, but clear.

The old man slowly raised his head. His eyes were small, hidden in layers of wrinkles, like two bottomless ancient wells. He looked Zhou Yang up and down, his gaze moving from his face to his soaked, close-fitting clothes, and finally settling on his hands that were gripping the counter. Those hands were steady, with distinct knuckles and a thin layer of calluses.

"The Hundred Treasures Pavilion is open for business, of course." The old shopkeeper's voice was a little hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. "But your attire makes you look more like you're here to cause trouble."

Zhou Yang smiled but didn't reply. He straightened up and clapped his hands. A man in black who had been following him immediately carried a heavy wooden box forward and placed it heavily on the counter. The box hit the wood with a dull thud.

The old shopkeeper's eyebrows twitched slightly.

Zhou Yang didn't open the box; he just tapped it lightly with his finger.

"Tell me what you need first," Zhou Yang said. "I need all the intelligence from the Pigeon Pavilion."

The old shopkeeper stopped wiping the jade Buddha. He carefully placed the jade Buddha back on the velvet cushion before looking at Zhou Yang again. Finally, a ripple appeared in the ancient well.

"Young man, Pigeon Pavilion is no ordinary shop. There are some things you shouldn't inquire about," he said slowly.

Zhou Yang didn't seem to care. He reached into his robes and took out a long, rectangular brocade box. Opening the box, a warm, medicinal fragrance instantly filled the air. Inside lay a ginseng root, entirely crimson, its roots intact, its shape resembling a seated figure of fire. In the dim light, the ginseng seemed alive, a faint glow slowly flowing within it.

"A century-old ginseng." Zhou Yang pushed the brocade box forward. "It's priced at three thousand taels at the pharmacy in the west of the city. I'm exchanging it for a piece of news; it's not a bad deal, is it?"

The old shopkeeper's breath hitched for a moment. His gaze was fixed on the fire ginseng, his Adam's apple bobbing. A person who has lived a long time can tell the quality of things at a glance. The quality of this fire ginseng is far superior to those ordinary ones on the market.

He remained silent for a moment, then finally shook his head.

"The items are good." He withdrew his gaze, regaining his calm and composed demeanor. "The backing of the Trust Pigeon Pavilion is not something an old man like me can afford to offend. That is... the property of that high-ranking official in the court."

He spoke vaguely, but Zhou Yang understood.

"So, the price isn't enough," Zhou Yang said. This wasn't a question, it was a statement.

The old shopkeeper sighed, tacitly agreeing. He had seen too many doors that money couldn't buy. Behind some doors stood power and intrigue. He wouldn't risk the entire treasure shop for this little bit of business.

Seeing his expression, Zhou Yang knew the anger had died down. He reached into his robes again, this time pulling out a folded piece of Xuan paper. The paper looked ordinary, with slightly curled edges.

He placed the paper on the counter and unfolded it. On it were lines of delicate handwriting, recording the recipe and refining method for a certain elixir.

"Strengthening the Foundation and Nourishing the Vitality Pill, improved version." Zhou Yang's finger lightly tapped on the paper. "The old formula yielded three out of ten pills, with one part of the pill remaining as poison. With my formula, it yields six pills, with no poison. The efficacy can also be increased by another 30%."

The old shopkeeper's pupils suddenly contracted.

He wasn't a martial artist, but having spent his entire life in the capital, he knew better than anyone the significance of these elixirs. How many princes and nobles coveted the Strengthening and Nourishing Pill? An improved version, boosting efficacy by 30% and free of toxicity, was no longer just wealth; it was something that could forge an immense karmic connection.

His breathing became heavy. The piece of paper seemed even hotter to him than the box of gold and the torch he had just touched.

"You…" For the first time, he showed a look of shock. "Who exactly are you?"

"A businessman," Zhou Yang pushed the pill formula forward, "a businessman willing to pay a price for information. Now, old shopkeeper, do you think this deal is enough?"

The old shopkeeper stared intently at the pill formula, his hand clenched tightly in his sleeve. The muscles in his face twitched, clearly indicating a violent struggle. After a long while, he deflated like a punctured balloon, his whole body relaxing. He reached out, his movements trembling, and tucked the pill formula into his sleeve.

Then he pointed to the box of gold, and then to the fire ginseng.

"Leave all of these," he said, his voice hoarse.

Zhou Yang nodded.

"The Pigeon Pavilion is in Huai Shu Hutong in the south of the city." The old shopkeeper lowered his voice and spoke quickly. "On the surface, it's a shop that trains and sells homing pigeons, and the owner is a cripple surnamed Qian. But the real owner is Liu Zhenhua. It's his most important intelligence hub in the capital."

He paused, then added, "They don't keep pigeons inside, they keep people. Every single guy who goes in has undergone the strictest screening process. You... be careful."

"Thank you." Zhou Yang got what he wanted without any hesitation. He turned and left without even glancing at the extra items.

"Wait a minute," the old shopkeeper called out to him.

Zhou Yang turned around.

The old shopkeeper looked at him, a complex light flashing in his cloudy eyes. "Young man, your stuff is good, but your enemies are probably much tougher than you think. The waters of the capital run very deep."

"I know," Zhou Yang replied calmly. "That's why I need more, better knives."

After saying that, he opened the door and stepped back into the cold rain.

The copper bell rang once more, its clear sound carrying a hint of desolation. The old shopkeeper stood behind the counter, motionless for a long time. He first touched the prescription in his sleeve, then looked down at the shimmering fire ginseng, and finally, his gaze fell on the heavy box of gold.

He exhaled a long breath, and white mist drifted through the warm pavilion.

That night, Baibaoge received a big deal, but also got into a huge mess. He picked up the soft cloth and started wiping the jade Buddha again, but this time, his hands trembled so badly he couldn't stop.

Outside the door, Zhou Yang's figure quickly disappeared into the dark street. The rain lashed his face, icy cold, yet it kept his mind unusually clear. Huai Shu Hutong, Liu Zhenhua.

The names strung together in his mind, weaving a vast net. And he himself was holding a pair of scissors, ready to cut a slit in this net from some corner.

His steps were steady, each step into the puddles carrying an indescribable force. From a distant street corner came the sound of a night watchman's clapper; it was the third watch of the night.

The capital city, this sleeping behemoth, is about to slowly open one eye because of his actions.

The Ghost of Pigeon Pavilion

The night was as dark as ink that couldn't be dissolved.

Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang walked through Huai Shu Hutong one after the other, their footsteps as light as two raccoons. At the end of the hutong was Xin Ge Ge, a three-story old house with faded red lanterns hanging from the eaves, and under the lanterns were the dark markings of the Tianli Sect.

"There's a formation." Zhou Yang lowered his voice and said in a volume that only the two of them could hear.

Qin Shuang nodded. She saw it; above the courtyard wall was an almost invisible membrane of light, like ripples on water illuminated by moonlight. This was a "Spirit Locking Array," a warning array commonly used by the Heavenly Principle Sect, capable of sensing fluctuations in energy.

The two exchanged a glance and climbed over the wall from the shadows on the side.

The courtyard was quiet, with only the three main rooms lit, and side rooms on the east and west sides. Zhou Yang made a gesture, and Qin Shuang understood; the two then split up.

Zhou Yang went around to the north side and pressed himself against the window of the side room. Two figures were projected onto the window paper, talking in hushed tones. He held his breath and heard one of them say, "...The higher-ups mean that we shouldn't make any moves for the next few days, and wait for the people over there to arrive."

Another person asked, "When will you arrive?"

"In the next two days."

Zhou Yang memorized this information and slowly backed away. At the same time, Qin Shuang beckoned him over from beside a pillar on the west side.

The pillars were engraved with array patterns, which, though concealed, could not escape Qin Shuang's eyes—her identity as a member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard was not for nothing, and she had studied the array formations of various schools.

"This is a Three Talents Formation," she said in a very low voice. "Three layers: light, dark, and dark. The light layer is for defense, the dark layer is the early warning array pattern we just saw, and there's a third layer..."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhou Yang stepped on a slightly loose stone slab.

"Click."

It was a very soft sound, but it was jarring enough in the quiet night.

Almost simultaneously, the array patterns around them lit up—not by lamplight, but by a chilling, dark blue light.

"Someone has broken in!" someone shouted in a low voice.

Zhou Yang leaped forward, heading straight for Qin Shuang's location. The next instant, three dark figures emerged from the shadows, forming a triangular formation to surround them.

These people are real assassins.

Completely clad in black, tight-fitting clothing, with only their eyes visible, they wielded short blades and moved in perfect unison. Zhou Yang instantly deduced that these were assassins trained by the Heavenly Principle Sect, numbering at least thirty.

The assassin in the middle struck first, his short blade aimed straight for Zhou Yang's chest and abdomen.

Zhou Yang dodged to the side and struck the assassin's shoulder with a palm. The assassin reacted extremely quickly, lowering his shoulder to dodge, while simultaneously twisting his wrist, slashing his short blade towards Zhou Yang's wrist.

The other two attacked from both sides, coordinating perfectly.

Despite fighting three opponents alone, Zhou Yang couldn't gain the upper hand in a short time. These assassins were highly skilled, ruthless, and their teamwork was almost seamless.

Qin Shuang encountered the same situation. She drew her longsword, its light flashing like a bolt of lightning, forcing the two assassins back. But the assassins did not linger; they retreated after a failed attack, then tried again from a different angle.

This is a tactic of attrition.

"Let's go!" Zhou Yang shouted, meaning to retreat first.

But the assassins clearly had no intention of letting them escape. The formation suddenly shifted, changing from a triangular shape to a fan shape, completely surrounding the two.

Zhou Yang's eyes turned cold, and he no longer held back.

He lunged forward and threw a punch at the first assassin who charged at him. The assassin raised his blade to block, but the force of the punch far exceeded his expectations; the short blade was knocked away, and the assassin fell backward.

Qin Shuang attacked simultaneously, her sword flashing across the wrists of the other two men, causing blood to splatter.

The gap opened, and the two leaped onto the roof.

But just as they were about to leave the courtyard, a cold light shot out from the side with astonishing speed.

Zhou Yang suddenly looked down, a cold glint of light flashing past his scalp and embedding itself in the pillar behind him.

It was a silver needle.

The needle tip gleamed with blue light, clearly indicating it was coated with potent poison.

"What a fast hidden weapon." Zhou Yang's heart skipped a beat. If he had been even half a step slower, that needle would have pierced the back of his head.

The assassin did not give chase.

The black figure had already blended into the night, and only a faint laugh could be heard in the distance, like the call of an owl.

Qin Shuang pressed down on Zhou Yang's arm, indicating that he should not chase after them.

She stepped forward, pulled out the silver needle, and examined it carefully.

"There are patterns at the end of the needle," she said.

"What pattern?"

"A blood-dripping sword, with an eagle pinned beneath it." Qin Shuang's voice became very low. "This is the mark of the Eastern Depot's guards."

Zhou Yang frowned: "People from the Eastern Depot?"

"Not bad." Qin Shuang put away the silver needles. "The Heavenly Principle Sect and the Eastern Depot... the waters of the capital are deeper than I imagined."

As the night breeze blew, the array of lights in the courtyard gradually faded.

The sound of the night watchman's clapper could be heard in the distance; it was the fourth watch of the night.

Zhou Yang released Qin Shuang's hand: "Let's go."

The two disappeared into the darkness just as they had come.

The lanterns in the Pigeon Pavilion swayed gently in the night breeze, their light dim, as if they were asleep. But the people in the courtyard had already woken up, and someone whispered, "Go and report to the temple master that someone has been spying on us."

The sound was very low, but it carried far in the quiet night.

Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang remained silent the whole way back to their small courtyard. By then, the sky was already beginning to lighten.

"Why did the Eastern Depot get involved?" Qin Shuang asked as soon as she closed the door.

Zhou Yang shook his head: "Either the imperial court is monitoring the Heavenly Principle Sect, or... the Heavenly Principle Sect itself is connected with the imperial court."

"Whichever it is, it's not good for us."

Qin Shuang's tone was calm, but Zhou Yang sensed the worry in it. This wasn't her area of ​​expertise—the Embroidered Uniform Guard's investigations emphasized evidence and procedures, while this kind of undercurrent between the martial arts world and the imperial court far exceeded the usual scope.

But Zhou Yang wasn't afraid.

What he fears is being worthless, not being a nuisance.

"Take a break," he said. "Tomorrow, go to the Treasure Pavilion and see if they have any news about the Pigeon Pavilion."

Qin Shuang nodded and went into the inner room.

Zhou Yang stood by the window, watching the sky gradually brighten outside.

Pigeon Pavilion is just the beginning.

The game in the capital has reached the point where it's time to make a move.

Three-way struggle

As dawn broke over the capital, Zhou Yang had already woken up.

The rain had stopped last night, but the air still smelled damp. As he got up, Qin Shuang also came out of the inner room, her eyes were dark, clearly she hadn't slept well.

"Let's go," she said softly.

The residence was located in a secluded alley in the east of the city, a place rarely frequented by people. It was the property left behind by one of Qin Shuang's former subordinates who had "died in the line of duty" when they were in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and now it had become one of the few places they could trust.

When the door was pushed open, a middle-aged man in a gray cloth robe was already waiting in the courtyard. He was thin with sunken cheeks, but his eyes were unusually bright. Zhou Yang recognized him—Qian Qianhu, Qin Shuang's subordinate from his early years in the Northern Garrison.

"My lord," Qian Qianhu said, clasping his hands in a low voice.

Qin Shuang nodded and walked into the main hall. Zhou Yang followed behind, closing the door behind him.

The hall was simply furnished with a wooden table, a few chairs, and an incense burner covered in dust in the corner. Commander Qian had obviously cleaned it beforehand, but the air still carried a damp feel.

"Sit down." Qin Shuang sat down in the main seat.

After the three of them sat down, Qian Qianhu did not speak immediately. Instead, he got up, walked to the window, looked out, and only returned to his seat after confirming that no one was around.

"I've made progress on the matter you asked me to investigate, sir." His voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of being overheard.

Qin Shuang said, "Speak."

"The Heavenly Principle Sect does have a stronghold in the capital, at the Yue Lai Inn in the south of the city. But—" he paused, "the Eastern Depot is also investigating."

Zhou Yang's eyebrows twitched slightly: "The Eastern Depot? What are they investigating the Heavenly Principle Sect for?"

Qian Qianhu shook his head: "I don't know. The Eastern Depot is always secretive. This time, they've mobilized quite a few people, but their specific intentions are unclear. It could be to steal credit, or it could be..." He didn't finish his sentence.

Qin Shuang pondered for a moment: "What about the Embroidered Uniform Guard?"

"Commander Chen's men have set up sentries near the inn, but it seems they're just monitoring and haven't taken any action yet." Commander Qian glanced at Zhou Yang. "They seem to be wary of something as well."

Zhou Yang understood. Commander Chen had been targeting him for a long time, and the other side must have received information about this trip to the capital. At this time, any rash action could give his opponent a handle to use against him.

"Forcibly seizing it is not advisable," Zhou Yang said calmly. "With the three parties locked in a stalemate, whoever makes the first move is likely to become the target of everyone's criticism."

Qin Shuang looked at him: "You have an idea?"

"Let's exploit the conflict between the three parties." Zhou Yang stood up and paced around the hall. "The Embroidered Uniform Guard wants to arrest members of the Heavenly Principle Sect to gain merit, while the Eastern Depot wants to fish in troubled waters. Let's let them fight like dogs."

"How do I do it?"

"Create chaos." Zhou Yang returned to his seat, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Have your old subordinates harass the Imperial Guard's sentries. The commotion doesn't need to be too big, but enough to make them think the Heavenly Principle Sect has detected the surveillance and is preparing to break out."

Qian Qianhu frowned: "That would cause the Imperial Guards to come out in full force to hunt us down."

"This is our opportunity." Zhou Yang looked at him. "If the Embroidered Uniform Guard makes a move, the Eastern Depot will definitely not sit idly by. They won't allow the credit to fall into the hands of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and they will surely take action to intercept it."

"and then?"

"Then, at the Pigeon Pavilion, only the Eastern Depot is making arrangements." Zhou Yang picked up the teacup on the table and found it was cold, but he didn't care. "When the Eastern Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guard are in a standoff, that will be our best opportunity."

Qin Shuang spoke up: "You want to destroy the Pigeon Pavilion's formation from the inside?"

"Not bad." Zhou Yang put down his teacup. "But we need to figure out the structure of the formation first. I need to get close to it and at least see one energy node."

Qian Qianhu interjected, "The Pigeon Pavilion is heavily guarded, making it difficult for outsiders to approach."

"That's why I need to create chaos," Zhou Yang repeated. "In chaos, everyone's attention will be diverted. That's when I can make my move."

Qin Shuang pondered for a moment, then looked at Qian Qianhu: "How much of a commotion can your men cause?"

Qian Qianhu thought for a moment: "Twenty men are enough. But after we start, they may not be able to escape unscathed."

"We don't need to escape unscathed," Qin Shuang said calmly. "We just need to stall the Imperial Guards for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn."

"One incense stick's time is enough." Zhou Yang stood up. "I need to know the location of the Pigeon Pavilion's formation and the distribution of its guards."

Qian Qianhu looked at Qin Shuang, and seeing her nod, he took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. The paper was yellowed and the edges were curled up, indicating that it had been carefully preserved for a long time.

"The Pigeon Pavilion appears to be a pigeon loft, but it's actually a secret hideout." Qian Qianhu pointed to the markings on the map. "The core of the formation is in an underground chamber, accessible only through the main entrance. However, there's a ventilation shaft above the chamber, which usually goes unnoticed."

Zhou Yang carefully examined the blueprints, memorizing every detail. The location of the ventilation openings, the shift change times for guards, the flow of energy in the array... this information gradually connected in his mind into a complete plan.

"We'll move out at 3:45 PM." He put away the blueprints. "Before that, I need to make some preparations."

Qin Shuang asked, "What preparations?"

"I'll deduce the nodes of the formation." Zhou Yang didn't hide anything. "Once I find an energy node, I can detonate it from the inside. Once the formation is broken, the Pigeon Pavilion will be in complete chaos."

She frowned: "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Zhou Yang's tone was flat, as if he were talking about something trivial. But only he knew that this certainty was earned at the cost of his lifespan.

The system interface appeared in his mind, its deep blue light swirling endlessly. He still had a considerable amount of lifespan remaining, enough for one more simulation.

Qin Shuang stood up: "Commander Qian, go and make preparations. At three-quarters past Xu hour, proceed according to plan."

"Yes." Commander Qian clasped his hands in a fist salute and strode out of the main hall.

Only two people remained in the hall. Sunlight streamed through the paper windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor. Qin Shuang looked at Zhou Yang, hesitant to speak.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've never broken a promise."

She nodded and didn't say anything more.

Zhou Yang unfolded the blueprint again, his gaze landing on the location of the Pigeon Pavilion. The game in the capital had reached a point where it was time to make a move. And he had never been a pawn to be manipulated.

Outside the window, the sound of pigeons flapping their wings could be heard.

Fish in troubled waters

The rain stopped.

At 3:45 PM, in a narrow alley in the east of the city, several agents from the Eastern Depot were furtively carrying several wooden boxes, about to cross the alley.

The leader was dressed in plain clothes, but his gait couldn't hide his arrogance. He was a low-ranking officer in the Eastern Depot, and if he succeeded in this "deal" today, he would earn at least three hundred taels of silver.

"stop!"

A sharp shout came from the alley entrance.

Qin Shuang's former subordinates anonymously reported that the Eastern Depot team was smuggling, which triggered a firefight between the two sides in the east of the city.

The informant had long since vanished, but the Eastern Depot squad was caught red-handed. The leader squinted at the several unfamiliar faces blocking their way.

"The Embroidered Uniform Guard on duty?" he sneered. "Don't they know whose territory this is?"

The leader of the group was a young man in his early twenties, wearing a slightly worn blue robe and a brocade dagger hanging at his waist. He was dressed in the standard attire of a member of the Imperial Guard, but his face was unfamiliar.

"We received a tip," the young man said, "that someone is smuggling contraband."

"What a joke." The flag bearer waved his hand, and the guard behind him stepped forward. "There are plenty of smuggling businesses in the capital. Who are you, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, to manage them?"

We didn't see eye to eye.

Without further ado, the leader of Qin Shuang's former subordinates drew his sword.

The people from the Eastern Depot had never been treated like this before. Immediately, the two sides started fighting in the alley.

Swords flashed and blood splattered.

Although the Eastern Depot's men were domineering, Qin Shuang's former subordinates were legitimate members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and had a numerical advantage. After a few rounds, the Eastern Depot team was at a disadvantage, with two or three groaning agents lying on the ground.

"Go!" Seeing that things were not going well, Xiao Qi feigned a strike and then ran away.

Qin Shuang's former subordinates did not pursue them.

Their mission is complete.

The headquarters of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

The lights in the duty room were still on.

A captain rushed in and knelt on one knee: "Sir, a battle has broken out between the Eastern Depot and an unknown force in the east of the city. There are more than thirty people on both sides!"

The officer in charge was a commander surnamed Qian. Upon hearing the report, he frowned deeply: "The Eastern Depot? Who dares to take action against the Eastern Depot in the capital?"

"They look like... people from the Embroidered Uniform Guard."

Qian Qianhu was stunned.

A moment later, he slammed his fist on the table and stood up: "Gather manpower and go to the scene immediately!"

A large number of Imperial Guards rushed towards the east of the city.

Located in the west of the city, the Pigeon Pavilion is a three-story black wooden building. On the surface, it is a business of buying and selling pigeons, but in reality, it is a stronghold of the Heavenly Principle Sect in the capital.

There is a formation outside the pavilion; those who are not members of our sect will be blocked by the power of the formation if they approach.

At this moment, in the secret chamber inside the pavilion, two people were sitting facing each other.

The "Elder of the Heavenly Principle Sect" was about fifty years old, with an aged face, and wore a black robe with intricate patterns embroidered on the cuffs.

Across from him sat a masked man, completely shrouded in black night clothes, with only his eyes showing.

There was a wooden box on the table.

"Did you bring the goods?" the masked man asked in a low voice.

The elder of the Heavenly Principle Sect nodded and pushed the wooden box over.

The masked man opened a crack, glanced around, and then quickly covered it again.

"That's exactly what we want," he said. "And the payment?"

The elder gestured, and another subordinate brought over a wooden box.

The transaction is in progress.

Suddenly, a violent tremor came from outside.

"What's going on?" The elder of the Heavenly Principle Sect suddenly stood up.

Someone outside the pavilion has broken through the formation!

Zhou Yang had already infiltrated the vicinity of the Pigeon Pavilion.

Instead of going through the main entrance, he went around to a dead corner behind the pavilion. This was the location of a key point in the formation. Although it was protected by a formation, no formation in the world is perfect.

He stood under an old locust tree, waiting quietly.

When news came that a large number of Jinyiwei (Imperial Guards) had been transferred to the east of the city, Zhou Yang knew that the time had come.

He took a deep breath and circulated his spiritual energy.

The "Spellbreaker Talisman" in his hand began to heat up.

He bought the magic-breaking talisman from the Treasure Pavilion for fifty taels of silver, specifically to destroy the nodes of the formation. The talisman burned, and a faint light entered the formation.

"boom--"

A muffled thud.

The Pigeon Pavilion shook violently.

The expressions of the Heavenly Principle Sect members inside the pavilion changed drastically.

"Someone has broken through the formation!"

"Go and report to the elders immediately!"

Chaos erupted inside the pavilion.

Zhou Yang moved like a swallow, leaping over the outer wall in a few bounds and landing inside the pavilion.

The formation had been broken, and alarms blared throughout the entire building.

"Enemy attack!"

Shouts rose and fell.

Zhou Yang ignored him.

His goal was clear—a secret room.

According to intelligence, the secret room is in the basement of the pavilion, accessible through a hidden door in the back kitchen.

Zhou Yang was extremely fast; the Heavenly Principle Sect disciples who blocked his way were knocked down before they could even see his face.

We've arrived at the kitchen.

Zhou Yang kicked open a hidden door.

Inside the secret room, the elders of the Heavenly Principle Sect and the masked man were hurriedly getting up.

"Someone's coming!"

The moment Zhou Yang stepped into the secret room, both sides focused their attention on him.

He glanced at the two men, his gaze settling on the wooden box on the table.

The box was open, and inside lay a bronze slab.

Zhou Yang's pupils contracted slightly.

That aura was exactly the same as the map fragment on his body.

It's a fragment of a dragon's spine!

The Heavenly Principle Sect elder reacted swiftly: "Kill him!"

The masked man slid a dagger from his sleeve and aimed it straight at Zhou Yang's face.

Zhou Yang dodged to the side and struck out with his palm.

The masked man was thrown backward by the force and crashed into the wall.

"Leave the box behind," Zhou Yang said calmly.

The elder of the Heavenly Principle Sect gritted his teeth, pulled out a black, ball-shaped object from his pocket, and slammed it to the ground.

Smoke filled the air.

"Walk!"

On the other side of the secret room, there is another hidden passage.

Zhou Yang did not give chase.

He opened the box and checked its contents.

The dragon spine fragment was in my hand; it was cold and heavy.

Zhou Yang carefully put it away and quickly left the secret room.

The Pigeon Pavilion is in complete chaos.

He took advantage of the chaos to return the way he came and escaped through a window.

The chaos in the east of the city continues.

After the Embroidered Uniform Guard intervened, the people from the Eastern Depot had to retreat.

Qin Shuang's former subordinates also took the opportunity to escape.

There are no winners in this conflict.

But for Zhou Yang, the goal had already been achieved.

When he returned to his lodgings, it was already dawn.

Qin Shuang and the others were in the room.

"Did it work?" she asked.

Zhou Yang nodded and took out the fragment of the dragon's spine from his pocket.

Qin Shuang's breath hitched for a moment.

"This is... a fragment of the dragon's spine?"

"Yes." Zhou Yang carefully examined the bronze piece in his hand. "The people of the Heavenly Principle Sect were using it for a transaction, and they almost got robbed of it."

Qin Shuang was silent for a moment: "What's the next step?"

"Of course we'll keep looking." Zhou Yang carefully put away the fragments. "The waters in the capital are so murky, it would be a shame not to catch more fish."

The sky outside the window is gradually brightening.

A new day begins.

Zhou Yang stood by the window, looking at the outline of the capital city in the distance.

The chaos at the Pigeon Pavilion and the conflict between the Eastern Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guard were merely the opening act of this grand drama.

The real battle is yet to come.

The third fragment

Zhou Yang stood at the bottom of the dry well.

The well walls were slippery, covered in dark green moss. He gripped a protruding blue brick with his fingers and pressed down hard. A mechanism clicked under his feet, and the stone slab slid open to reveal a downward stone staircase.

A musty smell mixed with the fumes of lamp oil rose up.

He squinted, placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword, and descended the stone steps. There were thirteen steps in total, leading to an ironwood door. Light shone through the crack in the door, and he could hear voices.

"Did you bring the things?"

"Where's the money?"

Zhou Yang stopped listening. He kicked the door.

The ironwood door crashed inward with a deafening roar. Dust billowed up. The two people inside turned sharply. One was a member of the Heavenly Principle Cult dressed in a short gray robe, carrying a sandalwood box. The other was completely shrouded in black, with only his eyes visible.

The man in black's pupils contracted.

"The Embroidered Uniform Guard?"

Zhou Yang didn't answer. His gaze fell on the sandalwood box. The box's brass lock gleamed with a faint light; it was heavy and clearly contained valuable items.

"court death."

The man in black snorted coldly. He moved swiftly, a short sword sliding out of his sleeve, aimed straight at Zhou Yang's throat. Before the blade even arrived, the force of the wind already stung his skin.

The middle stage of True Essence Realm.

Zhou Yang's heart skipped a beat. He dodged the sword's edge, his blade flashing out halfway, aiming a horizontal slash at the opponent's waist. The man in black reacted swiftly, his short sword pressing down, striking the blade with a clang.

A tremendous force came.

Zhou Yang stumbled back three steps, his back slamming against the wall. The bricks shattered.

"A mere early True Essence Realm cultivator dares to steal things?"

The man in black spoke in a hoarse, mocking voice. He unleashed another sword strike, transforming into three afterimages that blocked all of Zhou Yang's escape routes. The sword energy carved deep marks into the wall, sending stone chips flying.

Zhou Yang raised his knife to parry.

Three sharp clangs rang out. His hand split open, blood trickling down the hilt of his sword. His clothes were ripped open by the sword's energy, revealing his ashen skin underneath.

He was half-dead, impervious to blades and spears. But the opponent's internal energy was too strong, causing his internal organs to shift.

We can't delay any longer.

A ruthless glint flashed in Zhou Yang's eyes. He silently chanted in his mind, "System, burn one day of your lifespan to deduce the 'Innate Yang Technique'."

[Lifespan Consumption: One Day]

[Deduction begins...]

boom!

A surge of heat exploded from Zhou Yang's dantian. His bones cracked like popping beans, and the blood vessels beneath his skin bulged, taking on an eerie bluish-black hue. His originally grayish-white pupils contracted to pinpoints, gleaming with the cold light characteristic of a corpse.

The "Innate Yang Technique" was running wildly, breaking through the bottleneck and stepping into the fourth level - Yang True Qi.

The man in black thrust his sword forward.

Zhou Yang neither dodged nor evaded, but suddenly thrust out his left hand. His five fingers, like hooks, gripped the sword's edge tightly. The skin on his palm was cut open, and dark red blood dripped onto the ground, sizzling.

"What?!"

The man in black froze. He tried to pull his sword out, but the blade didn't budge.

Zhou Yang looked up. He grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth.

"It's my turn."

He clenched his right fist, gathering his inner energy, and unleashed a powerful punch. The air was compressed into a tangible mass, emitting a piercing shriek. This punch was devoid of any fancy moves; it was simply fast, heavy, and utterly brutal.

The man in black abandoned his sword and retreated.

late.

A fist slammed into his chest. The sound of bones cracking was clearly audible. The man in black spat out a mouthful of blood, his body flying backward and crashing heavily into the opposite stone wall. The wall caved in, cracks spreading like a spiderweb.

He slid to the ground, his veil was lifted by the strong wind, revealing a pampered face.

Zhou Yang recognized the face.

Zhang Mingde, the Vice Minister of Rites, was just three days ago providing disaster relief at the city gate, appearing as a loyal minister deeply concerned for the country and its people. Now, his face was ashen, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he held a dark, round ball in his hand.

"You...you actually managed to hurt me?"

Zhang Mingde's voice trembled, filled with shock and anger. He glanced at the sandalwood box on the ground, a vicious glint in his eyes.

"This is not something you can touch. The royal blood sacrifice plan... you have no idea what you're messing with."

He crushed the ball.

Thick smoke instantly filled the sealed room. The pungent smell of sulfur made it impossible to open one's eyes. Zhou Yang waved his sleeve to disperse the smoke, and Zhang Mingde was no longer in the stone room. Only a pool of blood and some rubble that had been shaken off the wall remained.

The member of the Heavenly Principle Sect had already taken advantage of the chaos to run away.

Zhou Yang walked to the sandalwood box. The copper lock had broken. He lifted the lid.

The box was lined with brocade. In the center of the brocade lay a metal plate.

The metal was jet black, devoid of any luster, as if it could devour the surrounding light. It was icy to the touch, colder than ice itself. Its surface was covered with fine patterns, resembling dragon scales or some kind of ancient inscription.

The third fragment of the dragon's spine.

Zhou Yang picked up the metal piece. It felt heavy in his hand; although it was only the size of his palm, it weighed as much as a thousand pounds. The system panel pulsed in his mind, emitting a faint resonance.

[Same source items detected]

[Repair Progress: 3/9]

He examined it for a moment, then put the fragment into his pocket.

The torches in the secret room were still burning, crackling softly. Zhou Yang walked to the wall and picked up the short sword Zhang Mingde had left behind. The blade was slender, and a small character for "etiquette" was engraved on the hilt.

The Royal Blood Sacrifice Plan.

Zhang Mingde's dying words still echoed in his ears. Zhou Yang wiped the blood from the sword with his fingertips, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

It seems the water in this pool is even muddier than he thought.

He turned and walked out of the secret chamber. The moss on the stone steps was trampled into a green sap, and the musty smell in the air gradually faded. The sound of wind came from above; it was the withered branches by the well swaying.

Zhou Yang leaped out of the dry well.

It was already dark outside, and the sound of the night watchman's clapper could be heard in the distance. It was the second watch of the night. Dark clouds covered the sky above the capital, obscuring the stars.

He straightened his clothes, tucked the short sword behind his waist, and quickly disappeared into the night.

The box was empty, but the fragments were in hand. The Vice Minister of Rites escaped, but the secret had already been revealed.

Some people are destined to be sleepless tonight.

Zhou Yang touched the black metal piece in his pocket and walked towards Qin Shuang's stronghold. His footsteps crunched on the fallen leaves.

Chapter 634 Map Integration

Zhou Yang stepped into the courtyard; the rain had not yet dried. The green tiles were damp and sticky underfoot, making a muffled sound. Inside, the lamp oil glowed dimly, and the candlelight flickered. Qin Shuang stood before the table, holding a roll of silk paper in her hand. She looked up, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Did you bring it?" Her voice was flat.

Zhou Yang took out the metal fragment from his palm and handed it over. The fragment was obsidian black with fine lines along its edges. It felt icy cold, like chilling air drawn from the abyss.

Qin Shuang placed the fragments on the table. A light tap with her fingertips sent a jolt through her, as if an electric current was pulsating. Then, a soft sound came from outside the door. The black-steel messenger pushed open the door, carrying a star-track jade pendant in his hand.

The jade pendant was completely transparent, with twinkling starlight inside. The messenger whispered, "My lord, the star path has returned." With that, he withdrew.

Qin Shuang gestured for Zhou Yang to take out another item. Zhou Yang pulled out a fragment of sheepskin from his sleeve; it was a keepsake given to him by the elder years ago. The fragment had yellowed with age, yet it remained resilient.

Three fragments lay on the table. The texture of the parchment, the luster of the obsidian, and the starlight of the star trail jade pendant each radiated a different kind of heat. An invisible attraction existed between the fragments.

Zhou Yang reached out and gently pushed. The metal fragment trembled slightly, then instantly slid towards the sheepskin. The sheepskin trembled slightly, immediately absorbing the metal's light. Then, the starlight from the Star Orbit Jade Pendant rushed towards both of them, illuminating the entire tabletop.

The light coalesced, forming a complete star map. The map was ancient, yet clearly discernible. Intersecting galaxies marked the location of the old temple in the capital. Beneath the temple, a pale blue energy line meandered deep into the earth.

At the end of the energy line, written in small red letters: "Fragment of the Dragon's Spine, sealed here."

Qin Shuang stared at the blueprints, her brows furrowed. She asked in a low voice, "What does this mean?"

Zhou Yang withdrew his hand and pondered for a moment. The location shown on the star map was a ruin that had been the subject of legends for generations. It was said that there was an ancient sword there, as well as a fragment of a dragon bone.

"If we can get in," Zhou Yang said, "the fragment is in our hands." There was no joy in his words, only calculation.

Qin Shuang nodded, her gaze shifting to the doorway. She said, "Black Steel's forces have already noticed this map. We have to get there before them."

Zhou Yang rolled up the blueprints and placed them in a wooden box. The box was lined with soft silk to prevent scratches. The lid closed, making a slight metallic clinking sound.

He turned to look out the window; the rain had stopped. The streetlights cast dappled shadows on the cobblestones. In the distance, a bell tolled, reminding him that night was deep.

Qin Shuang walked behind Zhou Yang and gently patted his shoulder. She said, "Tomorrow morning, assemble all the troops." Her tone was not commanding, but it reassured him.

Zhou Yang nodded, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. He knew that every step he took tonight was paving the way for what lay to come.

---

The light from the star map flickered slightly inside the wooden box, as if urging them on.

In the darkness, the wooden gate of the mansion swayed gently in the wind. The candlelight inside cast the silhouettes of two people from behind.

Zhou Yang toyed with the metal fragments, feeling a stinging pain in his fingertips. It was the lingering warmth of his waning lifespan.

He secretly calculated: if he directly burned his lifespan in the old temple to exchange a fragment for a perfected technique, how many years would it take? How many more times could his lifespan reserves sustain him?

Qin Shuang noticed his brows furrowing slightly and gently reminded him, "Don't push yourself too hard."

Zhou Yang smiled faintly and replied, "As long as the value is sufficient, the risk is controllable."

Just then, a light footstep sounded outside the door. Another of Blacksteel's spies stood in the doorway, a short knife in his hand.

"I've come to retrieve the map," the scout said coldly.

Qin Shuang remained calm, drew her short sword from her waist, and the blade flashed, cutting through the mist in the darkness.

"Don't be impulsive." Zhou Yang raised his hand and tossed out a small disc. As the disc spun, it released a faint golden light that shone directly into the scout's chest.

The scout couldn't dodge in time; the golden light tore through his sleeve, and the bloodstain instantly congealed into obsidian.

Taking advantage of the moment, Qin Shuang plunged her short sword into the scout's shoulder with just the right amount of force. The scout struggled twice, then collapsed to the ground, spitting out blood and foam from his throat.

"Retreat," Zhou Yang ordered.

The rest of Blacksteel's men quickly dispersed into the rainy alley outside. Only one guard remained, whispering the situation to them.

Qin Shuang raised her hand to signal, and Zhou Yang put the wooden box away and placed it into the cloth bag at his waist.

"Tomorrow we'll go to the west entrance of the old temple first," Qin Shuang said. "There are broken stone steps there, as if it has been abandoned for a long time."

Zhou Yang nodded, already having a plan in mind.

Night had fallen, and the candlelight was about to go out. The two packed their belongings, preparing for tomorrow's mission.

The sound of the wind outside carried away the lingering smell of rain, leaving only the coolness of the blue tiles in the air.

They stood at the entrance of the courtyard, the outline of the capital city wall in the distance faintly visible in the light mist.

The secrets of the star map have been revealed, and the secret chambers of the old temple will soon see the light of day again.

The two looked at each other, silently confirming their target.

The next morning, before the morning mist had dissipated, the streets of the capital were already bustling. Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang set off on the road leading to the old temple, leaving behind a trail of clear and firm footprints.

Liu Zhenhua's Ambition

Anyang County. The rain had just stopped, and the streets and alleys were still shrouded in mist. Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang escorted Chen Fugui back to the mansion. Chen Fugui's face was sallow, his eyes were bloodshot, and black dried blood seeped from the cracks in his knuckles.

He did not struggle. When the human form is broken, resistance only brings deeper pain.

Zhou Yang opened the bamboo slip box and took out the pieced-together map. It was compiled by Qin Shuang after collecting clues near the Old Temple, combined with the records from the endless stream of carrier pigeons outside the capital. Unfolding the map, the location of the Old Temple and its surrounding terrain were clearly visible. The blue lines pointed to the secret chamber where the Dragon Spine fragment was located. Chen Fugui's gaze lingered on the location of the fragment repeatedly, before finally losing focus completely.

"Did you... see clearly?" His voice was broken.

"Continue," Zhou Yang said, sitting back in his chair, his gaze devoid of warmth. Qin Shuang stood by the steps, holding an embroidered fan, her face expressionless.

He was panting heavily: "Liu Zhenhua... his goal isn't the cult leader. The cult leader's position is just a fig leaf. What he really wants... is the Moon Shadow Ritual under the Old God's Temple."

"A ceremony?" Qin Shuang raised an eyebrow.

"This isn't an ordinary sacrificial ceremony." Chen Fugui's tongue was dry, his voice like withered leaves rustling in the wind. "Under the Old God, there's a passage connecting to the Upper Realm. On the night of the full moon, that rift leaks energy. Liu Zhenhua needs to borrow that power, absorb it, and forcefully break through the boundary. The identity of the sect leader is to give him the talisman on top of that."

"Fragments of the dragon's spine from the old temple..." Zhou Yang twirled incense, the lamplight flickering. He pushed the map forward, his finger pointing to the entrance of the secret chamber. "The fragments are the key to stabilizing that passage. Obtaining them is equivalent to controlling the energy scaffold. That's what Liu Zhenhua wants."

Chen Fugui kept his eyes closed, the veins on his forehead throbbing. After a long while, he spoke again: "He has already had people scattering incense powder in Anyang County to lure people... clearing out the guards around the passage, and suppressing the wind and fire. The fragments... must be sent in before the ceremony. Otherwise, the crack will collapse, and the energy cannot be introduced."

"Is what you're saying true?" Qin Shuang approached and gave Chen Fugui a cold look.

"Really...really." He swallowed hard. His lips twitched. "That...that person said he would step onto the high platform of the Old Temple on the night of the full moon. The position of sect leader was his shield in the martial world. But in front of the Heavenly Principle Sect, he is the real mastermind."

Zhou Yang stood up and walked to the window. The wind blew against the paper windowpane like a knife slicing through it. He took out the lifespan consumption system interface. He had been using it frequently lately to piece together the enemy's plan. The interface had a black background with white flowing lines dancing across it. He adjusted his lifespan to one-eighth, burning that fiery, heat-like energy.

"System, simulate Liu Zhenhua's actions on the night of the full moon," he said softly.

The interface emitted several runes, forming a distorted star map. Lifespan depletion was the price of each calculation. The diagram clearly stated the three steps of the ritual: Gravity Seal, Rift Guidance, and Energy Infusion. The time was fixed at 3:45 AM. The eight-rune array at the entrance of the old temple must be opened first, and the energy pillar could only be drawn out through the bronze door of the secret chamber containing the fragment. There were only three groups of six guards opposite, temporarily withdrawn by the leader's personal order.

"He plans to break the formation before three quarters of an hour. The process of breaking the formation relies on the force field locked by the fragment. During the ritual, the energy will expand outward along the patterns on the dragon spine fragment." The interface continued to prompt, "If the fragment is misaligned, the energy will backflow and devour the entire old temple."

"He needs to stabilize the fragments in order to absorb the energy leaking from the upper realm," Qin Shuang said in a low voice, her tone no longer calm. "Zhou Yang, the Old God Temple cannot be handed over to him again."

Chen Fugui suddenly wailed, "It's no use saying anything, don't pursue it! That person... that person is ruthless."

Zhou Yang looked away. He wiped the sweat from his face. The lifespan consumption indicator was still flashing red. Each use felt like cracking a hollow wall. He remembered what the old man in the Treasure Pavilion had said: True growth often requires treating time as a flow.

"Explain the true timeline," he said to Qin Shuang. Qin Shuang nodded, closing the fan in her hand. Her steps were steady, and her expression was composed.

"What we have now is the location of the fragments, the timing of the ritual, and the distribution of the guards. The rest is just a matter of timing—the precise moment—to stop them before they can attack." Zhou Yang patted the table, raising dust from the bamboo slips.

The sound of dogs barking from the distant street drifted in through the window. The night in Anyang County grew ever deeper.

He then handed the map to Qin Shuang. The back of the map was marked with the deduction results, and three lines converged at the entrance of the secret room.

"Is the secret passage under the Old God Temple currently guarded?" Qin Shuang asked.

"There are patrols, but not many," Chen Fugui said with a wry smile. "As long as someone can turn off the lights before the full moon, the guards won't be able to see. That man... likes the darkness."

"Just turn off the lights," Zhou Yang said softly. He looked at Chen Fugui, "Every word you say will be relayed back to the Heavenly Principle Sect. If you want to escape, tell someone we can trust."

Chen Fugui nodded fiercely. His eyes were hazy, yet held a trace of clarity. "I'll tell you... I'll just tell you. The Heavenly Principle Sect... is high and mighty. But I've been doing that terrible work all along. They..." His voice grew weaker. He closed his eyes.

Zhou Yang didn't look at him again.

He turned and went to the table. The old bronze mirror still sat there, a few scratches remaining on its surface. He grasped the frame, his fingertips trembling slightly. The lifespan depletion system beeped again—informing him that his calculations were nearing their set limit.

"We must thwart that ritual," he told Qin Shuang, "or close the passage before they absorb the energy. The Dragon Spine fragment must be in our hands to control that leaking energy."

Qin Shuang pursed her lips slightly. "It's not too late to block two of their moves with one move."

Zhou Yang nodded. He took out the silver needles he always kept in his pocket and gently picked them up. He imagined the passage in the old temple, and the way that energy began to writhe. If he could lock the fragment along with the passage in reverse, Liu Zhenhua's breakthrough would be cut off.

"Before we force him to act, we need to rebuild that section of the terrain," he continued. "The moonlit night at the old temple only comes once. We need to light the lamps before them and leave the thunder to them."

Qin Shuang smiled. "It's more like he cut off his own path."

The night grew deeper. Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang each packed their belongings. The wind picked up again outside. They didn't say much, but there was a sense of urgency in the air. Zhou Yang walked to the door and looked down at the street. The oil lamps in the distance looked like tiny stars.

He turned and said, "Tomorrow morning, we'll go to the old temple and the old road first. We'll remove the guards, then quietly take out the fragments."

Qin Shuang nodded. She reached up to straighten her clothes, her brows furrowing slightly. Zhou Yang knew she was also calculating her next move.

The door slowly closed, leaving only the candlelight and the sound of the wind in the courtyard. The moon outside was half-hidden behind the clouds, and a sliver of light shone through the wooden window, falling onto the ground as a long, slanted line of light.

On nights like this, the Heavenly Principle Sect's plans continue to unfold in the distance. But inside this house, two people are quietly changing it.