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

Late at night, the air in Dongdu was damp and chilly.

Zhou Yang lay on the couch, not fast asleep. He was used to going through the day's accounts in his mind while half-asleep, calculating the interest on the silver notes after they were deposited, and how much it would cost to resupply the three thousand assassins. For him, the fluctuation of these numbers was more effective than any sleeping pill.

Just then, the Dragon Spine Sword beside the pillow suddenly trembled.

The noise was faint, but it was particularly jarring in the deathly silence of the night. Zhou Yang opened his eyes, his right hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.

The Dragon Spine Sword resonated.

The feeling was strange; it wasn't the violent tremor he experienced when facing powerful enemies before, but rather a subtle, extremely high-frequency hum, like a thin thread gently plucking at the sword's blade. Zhou Yang sat up, his bare feet touching the cold blue brick floor, his brows slightly furrowed.

He could sense that something was approaching.

The scent was faint, so faint that it was almost blown away by the night wind, but it carried an unsettling fishy smell, like rotten meat that had been soaking in a sewer for years, or like some strange sacrificial object slowly moving.

Zhou Yang slipped out the window without alerting Qin Shuang.

He landed on the rooftop, his figure like a wisp of gray smoke blending into the night. He didn't rush to trace the source of the aura, but instead circled the surrounding area first.

As a seasoned egoist, Zhou Yang's first reaction is always: Who is the other party, what do they want, and—can I profit from it?

During his stealth journey, Zhou Yang noticed several extremely fast figures flying across the north of Dongdu City. The auras of those people were mixed, but they had one thing in common: they all carried a faint smell of blood, and this smell was exactly the same as that sensed by the Dragon Spine Sword.

Zhou Yang slipped into a secluded alleyway and waited patiently in the shadows.

Before long, three men in black came into view. They moved extremely quickly and made no sound, but Zhou Yang noticed that each of them had a specially made bronze bottle hanging from their waist.

The bottle openings were sealed tightly, but even so, a faint red aura still emanated from them.

Zhou Yang's eyes narrowed slightly.

Those were remnants of a blood sacrifice.

In the cultivation world, the residue left after a blood sacrifice is usually considered unclean, not only worthless but also attracting all sorts of impure things. Most cultivators avoid it like the plague, but these people are secretly collecting it.

Moreover, the movements of these men in black were very strange. They were not searching for anything lost, but were converging in the same direction—the palace.

Zhou Yang stroked his chin, lost in thought.

Is someone within the imperial court collecting remnants of blood sacrifices? This deal is suspicious.

If it were simply for some forbidden technique, then openly conducting a blood sacrifice in a power center like Dongdu would be far too risky and far too unprofitable. Unless, of course, the other party has an extremely secretive and absolutely safe place within the palace, and that place requires a large amount of this "filth" to maintain some kind of balance.

Zhou Yang decided to follow them.

Instead of launching a direct attack, he acted like a patient hunter, leaping between rooftops, always remaining on the edge of his opponent's senses.

As the man in black infiltrated the forbidden area of ​​the palace, Zhou Yang discovered that he had used an extremely well-hidden underground passage. The entrance to the passage was hidden beneath an abandoned side hall, surrounded by an extremely complex array of formations. Without the guidance of the Dragon Spine Sword, an ordinary person would never have been able to discover it.

Zhou Yang stopped at the edge of the formation, closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to use the lifespan system to deduce the flaws in the formation.

[Lifespan consumed: 10 days. Deduction result: The core of the formation lies in "blood energy attraction." As long as it is guided by specific blood energy, it can be passed through within three breaths.]

A smile crept across Zhou Yang's lips.

Ten days of life in exchange for a chance to infiltrate a secret chamber deep within the palace—this deal is too good to pass up.

He quickly adjusted his breathing, simulating a somber bloodline fluctuation, and his body precisely slipped into the array the instant the light flashed.

The underground passage was long and gloomy, with a dark red liquid seeping from the walls, and the stench in the air was so strong it made one want to vomit. As Zhou Yang walked through the passage, he could hear a low chanting coming from afar, which sounded more like a summoning of spirits than a prayer for blessings.

At the end of the passage was a heavy stone door.

The men in black stopped there, and one of them knelt respectfully on the ground, presenting them one by one the small bronze bottles at his waist.

The stone door slowly opened, revealing the interior space.

It was a huge, circular chamber, with a semi-transparent cocoon-like object suspended in the very center. Inside the cocoon, a withered human figure could be vaguely seen, its body wrapped in countless blood-red threads that continuously absorbed the blood sacrifice remnants collected from the surrounding area.

What alarmed Zhou Yang the most was that an ancient talisman was floating above the cocoon, with four words written on it: False Immortal Envoy.

Zhou Yang hid behind the stone pillar, his eyes turning cold.

A fake immortal envoy.

This term appears in ancient texts and refers to a product created by forcibly implanting a higher external consciousness into a mortal body through forbidden means. Simply put, it is a "megaphone" secretly kept by the royal family to transmit instructions or prophecies.

But this megaphone doesn't seem normal now. It's greedily devouring the remnants of the blood sacrifice, and the rate of consumption is accelerating, as if preparing for some kind of impending awakening.

Zhou Yang quickly calculated in his mind.

If this "pseudo-celestial envoy" truly awakens, then the royal family member who controls it will possess an almost precognitive ability. In power struggles, this would be an invincible trump card.

But on the other hand, if this thing gets out of control, or is intercepted by this "evil god," its value will be immeasurable.

He didn't need to foresee the future; he only needed to know what price he could sell this item to Qin Shuang for, or with whom he could exchange it for greater resources.

At this moment, a middle-aged man in the secret room spoke, his voice cold and sinister.

"The purity of the offerings this time was insufficient, which slowed down the awakening of the pseudo-immortal by three days."

Zhou Yang looked in the direction of the voice and saw an official dressed in a black robe, with a thin face and a morbid fanaticism in his eyes.

The official didn't notice Zhou Yang lurking in the shadows; he was staring at the blood cocoon, his tone tinged with anxiety.

"Continue the search in the outskirts of the capital. Scrape off every single bloodstain from any site where a blood sacrifice was performed, even if only a single drop remains. Once the celestial envoy opens his eyes, the power over the Eastern Capital will be in no one else's hands."

Zhou Yang chuckled softly from the shadows.

In the face of absolute self-interest, power is actually the least valuable thing.

He didn't attack immediately, but instead quietly used a wisp of sword energy from the Dragon Spine Sword to carve a mark on the edge of the stone gate. He needed more time to observe the weaknesses of this "pseudo-immortal envoy" and the background of the official in black robes.

After all, revealing your hand before confirming how many chips the other party is willing to offer is the most foolish thing you can do in the world.

He slowly retreated, his body once again transforming into a shadow, quietly disappearing into the blood-red mist.

After leaving the underground passage, Zhou Yang returned to his room.

Qin Shuang was already awake, dressed in a simple white shirt, sitting under the lamp reviewing a file. Hearing the noise, she looked up at him, her gaze lingering for a moment on Zhou Yang's ankle.

There was a little dark red mud stain there.

"Where did you go?" Qin Shuang's voice was cold, but habitually tinged with concern.

Zhou Yang casually took off his shoes, then lay down on the couch, his tone languid.

"I didn't go anywhere. I couldn't sleep at night, so I went out for a walk and to see the night view of Tokyo."

Qin Shuang put down the file, walked over, and gently wiped the mud off his ankle with her fingertips.

"Did you wander into the restricted area of ​​the palace while taking a stroll?"

Zhou Yang's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his carefree smile. He grabbed Qin Shuang's wrist, pulled her into his arms, and whispered with a chuckle:

"Sister Shuang, you still don't know enough about me, this 'evil god'. I have a rather peculiar way of taking walks; I like to go to places that no one else dares to go, so that I can find valuable treasures."

Qin Shuang didn't speak, but her gaze lingered on his face for a long time.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes, and the image of the blood-red cocoon and the sinister official appeared in his mind.

A bigger deal is brewing, and he has already secured his place.

Site selection dispute

The morning mist at the foot of Eagle's Beak Peak had not yet dissipated, and the air was filled with the damp smell of earth.

Qin Shuang stood in the makeshift shelter, clutching a sheepskin map in her hand, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. The mountain peak lay before her, like a silent giant, its terrain precipitous, with sheer cliffs on its back, accessible only by a narrow path.

This terrain is superb, easy to defend and difficult to attack, making it perfect for housing those three thousand elite soldiers.

But some people are unwilling.

"Lord Qin, this is an invitation from the Marquis of Linhai's residence."

A servant ran up quickly, head bowed, and handed over a red name card sprinkled with gold with both hands. His tone was somewhat uneasy. "The Marquis said that Eagle Beak Peak was designated as his hunting ground for his villa in the early years. He said that the territories overlapped and asked us to go somewhere else."

Qin Shuang didn't accept the invitation; she just glanced at it coldly.

"A hunting ground?" Her voice was soft, revealing neither joy nor anger. "Of the hills near Dongdu, eighty percent are owned by people with the surname Linhai. He can't bear to part with a rocky place like Eagle's Beak Peak?"

The attendant shrank back: "I heard... I heard that the Marquis saw us breaking ground here yesterday and got an idea. He said he was afraid that our military training would disturb the feng shui of his ancestral graves."

Qin Shuang scoffed and slammed the map onto the table: "Feng shui? If his ancestral graves are really on Eagle's Beak Peak, they were dug up by wild dogs."

She turned around and instructed the steward behind her, "Prepare the carriage and horses. I'm going to the Embroidered Uniform Guard to check the records and see how the land deed was drawn up back then. If the Marquis of Linhai wants to make a move, we'll have to see if he has the guts."

"etc."

A lazy voice came from the corner of the pergola.

Zhou Yang was twirling two iron gallbladders in his hand, which he had just swindled from a smuggler who was trying to escape yesterday. He wasn't wearing official robes, but a loose blue cloth long gown, and his hair was casually tied in a bun, making him look like an idle rich old man.

He walked over, casually picked up the name card, and without even looking at its contents, wiped the tea stains from the corner of his mouth.

"Checking the records is so slow." Zhou Yang threw the name card into the charcoal brazier at his feet, watching the flames swirl the red paper and turn it to ashes in the blink of an eye. "The longer this kind of thing drags on, the more trouble it becomes. Since he wants to take it, let him know this is hot stuff."

Qin Shuang frowned: "Are you going to force him? He is, after all, a marquis, with a group of veteran officials backing him up in court. If things escalate, what will happen to those above..."

"The higher-ups?" Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow. "The one up there isn't blind. Besides, this is about building an army, a matter of military secrets. Would a mere marquis who plays with falcons and dogs dare to interfere?"

Without waiting for Qin Shuang to speak again, he turned around and walked out of the shaded pavilion.

"Chen Daozi!" Zhou Yang shouted.

In the distance, a bald man with a face full of scars strode towards them, followed by twenty equally strong and burly assassins. Although these men had not yet fully adapted to the chilling aura of death, the ruthlessness in their eyes was already unmistakable.

"Young Master, what are your orders?" Chen Daozi replied in a muffled voice.

Zhou Yang pointed to the lone watchtower on the mountainside. It was just erected by the Marquis of Linhai's men the day before yesterday. The wooden frame was crooked and a few red flags fluttered listlessly on it, right in the middle of the main road leading to Eagle's Beak Peak.

"It's an eyesore." Zhou Yang uttered two words. "Tear it down. If there are people inside, throw them out, but don't kill them. Keep them as witnesses."

Chen Daozi grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth: "Alright. I'm good at this kind of demolition work."

With that, he waved his hand and led twenty assassins charging up the mountain. Their speed was like that of a pack of hungry wolves smelling meat.

Qin Shuang, watching from behind, twitched her eye: "Zhou Yang! That's the Marquis's private sentry post. Your actions have completely changed the nature of the situation!"

"It's good that things have changed." Zhou Yang waved his hand without turning his head. "If they don't change, they'll think we're easily scared."

……

Inside the watchtower halfway up the mountain, several servants from the Marquis's mansion were warming themselves by a brazier, cursing under their breath.

This godforsaken place is so windy it could blow a person away. The Marquis insisted they come here to keep watch, saying it was to prevent the Embroidered Uniform Guards from expanding their territory.

"That woman surnamed Qin still hasn't made a move?" A guy who looked like a leader spat into the fire.

"No, I heard they're going to check the land deeds." Another servant yawned. "Let them check. By the time they come back, our barracks will be built. The Marquis's idea is to drag it out until they can't take it anymore."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

It wasn't the kind of casual walking, but rather the sound of synchronized running, deep and powerful, shaking the dust off the ground.

The leader paused for a moment, then grabbed the long sword beside him: "Who? There's a sign for the Marquis of Linhai hanging at the entrance, are you blind...?"

"Bang!"

The wooden door was kicked open, and half of it flew in, hitting the brazier and scattering sparks all over the room.

Chen Daozi stood at the door, holding a thick jujube wood stake in his hand, which he had just chopped down from a tree by the roadside. He looked at the people inside the house as if they were chickens waiting to be slaughtered.

"The Marquis's nameplate?" Chen Daozi chuckled. "Can you eat this nameplate?"

The servants were startled and instinctively drew their knives and rushed forward.

"court death!"

Instead of retreating, Chen Daozi advanced, swinging the jujube wood stake like a windmill, and smashed it directly onto the shoulder of the person in front.

A crisp "crack" sounded as bone broke, the sound particularly jarring in the cramped wooden hut.

The man screamed and flew out, crashing into the table behind him.

The remaining servants' legs went weak. This wasn't a brawl among servants; it was the ruthlessness of someone who had killed someone.

Before they could react, the twenty assassins who followed them in swarmed forward. No one drew their swords; it was all fists, feet, and elbows—the movements were swift and clean, without any unnecessary flourishes.

A few breaths later, several servants were stripped down to their underwear and thrown into the muddy ground outside like dead dogs.

"Don't smash anything inside, it's wood," Chen Daozi ordered, then aimed at the main pillar of the watchtower.

He took two steps back and then rammed into it.

"Boom!"

The poorly constructed watchtower swayed, then let out a mournful cry, tilted to one side, and finally collapsed with a crash, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Amidst the dust and smoke, Chen Daozi patted the sawdust off his clothes and gave a thumbs-up towards the gazebo below.

Zhou Yang stood below and nodded in satisfaction. He took out a piece of silver from his pocket and casually tossed it to his stunned attendant.

"Go and have Chen Daozi level the ground. Tell the Marquis's men that this is called 'clearing illegal structures,' saving them maintenance costs. You're welcome."

The attendant held the silver, his hands trembling, and looked at Zhou Yang as if he were a madman.

Qin Shuang walked to his side, looked at the pile of ruins, took a deep breath, and seemed to be suppressing some kind of emotion.

"You've blocked the way with this move," she said, her tone neither blaming nor helpless.

"The road was never going to be passable to begin with." Zhou Yang turned around, looking at the faint outline of Dongdu visible below the mountain. "They want the territory, not for those few stones, but to test my bottom line. They'll only be afraid if I don't give it to them."

……

The next day, in the Golden Palace.

Marquis Linhai was so angry that his beard was trembling. He pointed at His Highness Zhou Yang, his finger almost poking Zhou Yang's nose.

"Your Majesty! Zhou Yang is utterly lawless! That was my watchtower, where my private soldiers were stationed! He actually led his men to forcibly demolish it and severely injured someone! This is rebellion, this is insubordination!"

The old emperor sat on the dragon throne, rubbing his temples, looking exhausted. The borderlands had been unsettled lately, and these old fogies were also locked in a fierce power struggle in court, giving him a headache.

"Zhou Yang, what do you have to say?" The emperor glanced at Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang was dressed in a sixth-rank school uniform, his back ramrod straight, with his signature smile on his face, looking both humble and irritating.

"Your Majesty," Zhou Yang cupped his hands in greeting, "this humble subject did not forcibly demolish the structure, but was acting out of duty to defend the city."

"Nonsense! You think you can defend the city like this?" Marquis Linhai roared.

Zhou Yang turned to look at him and said slowly, "Your Excellency is mistaken. Eagle Beak Peak is a crucial point guarding the east gate of the Eastern Capital. Yesterday, I led men to survey the terrain and found that the watchtower was built extremely haphazardly and in a tricky location, blocking the view. If the enemy attacks, the tower will become their cover."

He paused, then raised his voice slightly: "I inquired with the guards inside the tower, and they claimed to be servants of the Marquis. I thought that since the Marquis is deeply favored by the Emperor, he must also be thinking of defense. Since the tower was not in accordance with regulations and blocked the way, I took it upon myself to dismantle it completely for the Marquis, so that the enemy might use it to attack the Eastern Capital in the future, thus preventing the Marquis from being accused of 'colluding with the enemy.'"

The Marquis of Linhai was so angry he almost choked: "You...you're just making excuses! I was just..."

"If Your Excellency is worried about those few rotten pieces of wood, I will compensate you." Zhou Yang interrupted him, taking out a stack of silver notes from his sleeve, which he had prepared in advance. "Here is five hundred taels, enough to build ten towers like that. But Your Excellency, remember next time, if you're going to build one, make sure it's far away from the main road. That's called 'keeping public and private matters separate'."

He threw the silver notes on the ground, and several white pieces of paper fluttered down in the hall.

The entire court was in uproar.

This week, Yang not only demolished the tower but also humiliated the Marquis of Linhai, and finally used the serious charge of "defending the city" to put him in a position that left everyone speechless.

That's five hundred taels of silver. For a marquis, it's not a lot of money, but it's a huge loss of face. Moreover, Zhou Yang's charge of "treason" is extremely insidious. In a world where military generals hold sway, this is a crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations of one's family.

The old emperor couldn't help but twitch his lips as he looked at Zhou Yang's righteous and awe-inspiring appearance.

That kid is rotten to the core.

But the emperor knew in his heart that Zhou Yang's actions were indeed for training troops. These three thousand elite soldiers were tacitly approved by the emperor; they were a trump card to deal with the northern barbarians. For the Marquis of Linhai to reach out at this moment was indeed touching a nerve.

"Enough." The emperor waved his hand, stopping the Marquis of Linhai who was about to retaliate. "Zhou Yang was only acting for defense. Since it was a mistake, the Marquis of Linhai should not hold it against him. As for the land, I will decide. It will be allocated to the Embroidered Uniform Guard for training."

Marquis Linhai opened his mouth, but seeing the emperor's indifferent gaze, he could only glare fiercely at Zhou Yang before flicking his sleeves and retreating.

Zhou Yang calmly picked up the silver notes from the ground and put them back in his pocket.

"Thank you for your wisdom, Your Majesty." He bowed and his smile widened.

……

As we stepped out of the palace gates, the sun shone brightly.

Qin Shuang's carriage was parked by the roadside. Zhou Yang walked over, lifted the curtain, and got in.

The carriage was spacious. Qin Shuang was looking at the accounts when Zhou Yang entered. Without even looking up, she asked, "You won beautifully?"

"Not bad, it took a bit of talking." Zhou Yang picked up the teapot on the table and poured himself a cup. "That old man is probably going to be so angry he won't be able to sleep tonight. I need to find someone to keep an eye on him, so he doesn't get sick from holding it in."

Qin Shuang put down the account book, looked at Zhou Yang's smug look, and couldn't help but smile.

"Are you so certain the emperor will help you?"

"It's not that I'm certain, it's that the emperor needs a knife." Zhou Yang pointed to his chest. "This knife needs to be sharp, so it needs to be sharpened. The whetstone that Marquis of Linhai has, although it's a bit hard, can still remove rust."

He put down his teacup, looked at the bustling crowd outside the window, and his gaze gradually calmed down.

"We've got Eagle's Beak Peak. Next up is that batch of weapons. Once our elite soldiers are trained, we'll truly stand tall in Dongdu."

Qin Shuang nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at him.

"Then I'll give you back the five hundred taels you just threw out?"

"That was a show of 'sincerity' for the Emperor and his officials, so it had to be thrown away." Zhou Yang chuckled. "But later, I'll have Chen Daozi go to the Marquis's mansion and collect some 'compensation for emotional distress.' This money can't be wasted."

Qin Shuang shook her head helplessly.

The car started moving, its wheels making a soft sound as they rolled over the cobblestones.

Zhou Yang leaned back on the cushion and closed his eyes. The counter on his chest wasn't ticking; everything was proceeding as planned.

There were no thrilling life-or-death battles, only these seemingly trivial games of interest. But that's exactly what he wanted—to maximize his profits while controlling everything.

This is the true path of the "evil god".

He doesn't establish his authority through killing, but through meticulous calculation that makes people afraid to provoke him.

"Let's go to the blacksmith's shop." Zhou Yang suddenly opened his eyes. "I want to see if that batch of new swords is ready yet. If they dare to cut corners, I'll dismantle their forge too."

Qin Shuang chuckled softly, "I understand."

The carriage traveled through the streets of the eastern capital, heading west. Sunlight streamed in at an angle, casting long shadows on the floor.

This battle over site selection is just the beginning. A much larger scheme is just unfolding. But Zhou Yang isn't in a hurry; he still has plenty of leverage.

As long as you have the resources, there's no business you can't do.

Divine Artifacts Thirst

In the blacksmith's shop in the west of the city, the heatwave distorted the air.

As Zhou Yang stepped across the threshold, a wave of sweltering heat, mingled with the smells of coal and rust, hit him. He raised his hand to fan himself, his brow furrowing slightly, but the gesture quickly relaxed. The environment here was a bit rough, but he liked the raw, energetic atmosphere of the place.

The shopkeeper was a thin, old man. When he saw Zhou Yang enter, his cloudy eyes immediately lit up. He hurriedly dropped the hammer he was holding, wiped his hands haphazardly on his apron, and jogged over to greet him.

"Mr. Zhou, you've finally arrived! I've been working through the night for three nights straight to get this batch of goods ready."

The shopkeeper looked ingratiating, his back bent so low it almost touched the ground.

Zhou Yang didn't reply and walked straight to the weapon rack.

Fifty longswords were neatly stacked on the shelf, their blades gleaming with a faint bluish light and their edges as thin as cicada wings. These were the weapons provided to the assassins; they didn't need to be the best, but they had to be fast and ruthless.

He casually pulled out a knife and flicked his finger along the spine.

"Buzz—"

The crisp vibrato echoed through the shop, its lingering sound resonating long afterward.

Zhou Yang nodded. The sound wasn't muffled; it was ready. He pulled out two more, placed them side by side in front of him, and squinted to compare them. The three lines were perfectly straight, without the slightest deviation. The workmanship was solid; no corners had been cut.

"Not bad." Zhou Yang sheathed the knife and tossed one to Qin Shuang, who was waiting beside him.

Qin Shuang caught it with one hand, twirled the knife, and casually pulled it toward the ironwood stake used for testing the knife.

"brush."

With a flash of light, the thick ironwood stake slid down silently, the cut as smooth as a mirror.

"This knife is quite interesting," Qin Shuang commented casually, then hung it on her waist.

Seeing this, the shopkeeper's wrinkles blossomed into a wide smile: "I'm glad Mr. Zhou is satisfied. As for the remaining money..."

"You'll get your share." Zhou Yang pulled out a stack of silver notes from his pocket, didn't even count them, and slapped them directly onto the table covered in iron filings.

The shopkeeper, holding the silver notes, bowed even lower, muttering words of gratitude, and stepped aside.

Zhou Yang didn't leave. His hand reached for another sword at his waist—Dragon Spine.

This is not the same hundred-refined steel knife as before. This is a divine weapon that he repaired at great expense. It is no exaggeration to say that it can cut through iron like mud.

This sword really stole the show in the big battle a few days ago. But he still felt that something was off.

"May I borrow a light?" Zhou Yang beckoned to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper was taken aback for a moment, then quickly handed over the red-hot iron tongs.

Zhou Yang didn't take the iron pliers. Instead, he drew his Dragon Spine Sword and brought the tip of the sword directly to the red-hot pliers.

There was no sound of metal melting.

Not even a spark was thrown up.

Zhou Yang's heart skipped a beat. Logically speaking, when these red-hot iron pincers touched a divine weapon of the Dragon Spine Sword level, they should either be cut off directly or shattered by the sword energy emanating from the sword.

But now, the sword tip just rests there quietly, like an ordinary block of iron.

He flicked his wrist and used the tip of his sword to pry open the red-hot pincers.

"when."

A muffled thud.

The pincers were pried open, but a tiny notch, the size of a grain of rice, appeared on the tip of the Dragon Spine Sword.

This is a divine weapon. Let alone red-hot iron pliers, it shouldn't even bend when cutting into fine steel.

Zhou Yang's expression darkened. This sword is hungry.

The previous chapter mentioned that he overdrawn his lifespan to repair the sword, but he forgot the most important thing—repair is repair, and recharging is recharging. It's like fixing a carriage but not feeding the horses; the carriage still won't run.

He sheathed his sword, and that familiar hunger traveled from the hilt to his palm. It wasn't pain, but an emptiness, like a bottomless pit desperately sucking away his body heat.

In my mind, that cold, mechanical voice rang out at just the right moment.

[Dragon Spine Sword's energy depletion detected.]

Current intensity: 15%

[Warning: If not charged in time, the artifact will degenerate into ordinary iron, accompanied by irreversible damage.]

Zhou Yang cursed inwardly.

"How do I top it up?" he asked.

The system didn't waste any words and directly provided a solution.

[Host detected as currently located within the Dongdu area.]

[The nearest psionic node: Nine Ghost Veins.]

[Current Location: Underground of the Ministry of Personnel, North of the Eastern Capital.]

[Node Status: Occupied.]

Zhou Yang paused for a moment.

It's been occupied? These days, even underground spiritual veins can be seized and occupied?

He turned around and looked at Qin Shuang, who was testing the knife. Qin Shuang seemed to notice his gaze, stopped what she was doing, and looked back at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Zhou Yang didn't answer directly, but walked to the door and looked up at the sky.

As the sun began to set, its light bathed the streets of Dongdu in a blood-red glow. The northern part of the city was a gathering place for the powerful and wealthy, and the Minister's residence was the most conspicuous presence in that area. The current Minister of Rites, Sun Changle, appeared refined and cultured, possessing beautiful calligraphy, but little did anyone know that his family held a powerful dragon vein beneath their borders.

"I want to go for a walk in the north of the city," Zhou Yang said, pointing in that direction.

Qin Shuang looked in the direction he pointed, her brows furrowing slightly. "That's the Ministry of Rites' territory. Sun Chang Le is deeply trusted by the Emperor; his residence is heavily guarded, with several skilled fighters stationed there. We were just hiding from Commander Chen's spies; isn't it too reckless to provoke him now?"

"Fortune favors the bold," Zhou Yang smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

He rubbed his nose. The Dragon Spine Sword was now just a pile of scrap metal. If he didn't quickly find a place to "feed" it, this life-saving weapon would fail him at the crucial moment next time danger struck. Zhou Yang never did anything he wasn't confident about, much less put a defective product at the gambling table.

Moreover, since the system has given a prompt, it means that this matter can be handled.

"Has Sun Changle been unwell lately?" Zhou Yang suddenly asked an unrelated question.

Qin Shuang thought for a moment: "I heard that's how it is. He didn't attend the banquet in the palace a few days ago. It's said that he has contracted a strange illness and is coughing up blood all day long. He has consulted countless famous doctors, but none of them can figure out what's wrong with him."

Zhou Yang snapped his fingers.

"That's right."

The Nine Nether Veins, as the name suggests, have a cold and gloomy underground atmosphere. How could a mortal body withstand being boiled under such a cauldron every day? Sun Changle thought this was a feng shui treasure land, but he didn't know that he was risking his life to prolong this land.

He's got a treasure, but he's going to exhaust himself trying to get it.

"Shall we go now?" Qin Shuang hung up the knife without asking any further questions. She was used to Zhou Yang's sudden whims and to following him.

Zhou Yang shook his head.

"No rush. Let's look around first and find a teahouse to sit in."

After leaving the blacksmith's shop, the two did not ride horses, but strolled leisurely to the north of the city like an ordinary couple.

The streets here were noticeably wider than those in the west of the city, with neatly paved bluestone paths and willow trees drooping their branches on both sides, creating a peaceful and serene atmosphere. But Zhou Yang knew that beneath this calm surface, undercurrents were swirling.

He found a window seat on the second floor of a teahouse diagonally opposite the Minister's Mansion.

I ordered a pot of cheap tea and two plates of melon seeds.

Zhou Yang cracked sunflower seeds while staring at the vermilion gate across the street.

The gate was tightly shut, with only two stone lions crouching there, looking majestic. But if one had the "heavenly eye," one could see the black mist seeping out from the crack in the gate.

The black mist was so thick it seemed to be alive, coiling around the stone pillars in front of the door and seeping into the wall. This was no ordinary residence of a high-ranking official; it was clearly a den of ghosts.

"Look at that person." Zhou Yang pointed to the doorway with his chin.

A middle-aged man in a blue long gown hurried out of the door, carrying a medicine box in his hand. He was pale and his steps were unsteady.

That was Liu Yishou, the famous doctor in the city.

This Liu Yishou is usually very arrogant and it's common for him to refuse to help those in need. The fact that he came out of the Sun family looking so disheveled shows just how serious the situation inside was.

"That doctor won't live more than three days," Zhou Yang said calmly.

Qin Shuang glanced at him: "You poisoned it?"

"I don't have that kind of free time." Zhou Yang spat the sunflower seed shells into his hand. "He was affected by the evil energy. He stayed in that room for too long, and the yin energy entered his body. Even a god couldn't save him."

As they were talking, Zhou Yang suddenly felt a burning sensation in his waist.

The Dragon Spine Sword was trembling.

It sensed the presence of its kind, the energy it craved. That hunger amplified several times over, as if urging it to act quickly.

Zhou Yang pressed down on the hilt of the sword, trying to calm the volatile weapon.

Don't rush, the meat is practically in your mouth, it can't possibly run away.

He turned to Qin Shuang and said, "Since Sun Chang Le is so ill, there must be loopholes in the mansion's defenses. Especially at night, when the yin energy is at its strongest, the guards' senses will become dulled."

Qin Shuang instantly understood his meaning: "Shall we make our move tonight?"

"Tonight," Zhou Yang nodded, "but I'm not going there to kill that Minister or anything."

He pointed to the ground beneath his feet.

"I'm here to move."

He moved that vein buried underground into his sword.

Sun Changle's death is no big deal, but if this spiritual vein is severed, the feng shui of Dongdu will be in chaos. Chaos is good; it gives him a chance to fish in troubled waters. Anyway, once the spiritual vein is in his sword, it belongs to Zhou Yang.

This is a good deal.

Trading one life for the power to charge a divine weapon, plus the chaos in Dongdu, is worth it.

Zhou Yang grabbed another handful of melon seeds, his gaze sweeping over the high walls of the Minister's residence.

He had already planned the route in his mind. He would climb over the blind spot in the back wall, avoid the guards in the front yard, and head straight for the artificial hill in the back garden. That was the core of the entire mansion, and also the convergence point of the spiritual veins.

As for whether it will be discovered.

Zhou Yang touched the still-beating counter on his chest.

As long as the price is right, there's no place in this world he can't get into.

"This tea is a bit bitter." Zhou Yang picked up the teacup, took a sip, and smacked his lips.

Qin Shuang didn't speak, but just quietly looked out the window.

The clock tower in the distance struck three times.

As darkness fell, the black aura swirling around the Minister's residence seemed to grow even thicker.

Zhou Yang put down his teacup, the bottom of which made a soft tapping sound on the table.

"Let's go."

He stood up, straightened his clothes, and his nonchalant expression softened, his eyes becoming sharp as knives.

Qin Shuang followed closely behind.

The two left the teahouse and instead of heading towards the main entrance, they slipped into a dark alleyway next to it.

A night breeze blew, swirling up fallen leaves. With a rustling sound, two figures quickly disappeared into the darkness.

Inside the Minister's residence, a single candle had just been lit.

Zhou Yang stood at the base of the wall, listening to the suppressed coughs coming from inside, and a smile appeared on his lips.

That cough sounds really cheerful.

That was the sound of gold coins falling into a bag.

The Ledger of the Evil God

The main hall of the Qin Mansion was brightly lit.

On the gleaming golden beams and pillars, embroidered patterns rippled.

Hundreds of officials sat in rows, their eyes fixed on the stage.

Qin Shuang, dressed in an embroidered robe, stood at the very front.

Behind her is the Qin family, the most prominent family in the world today.

In the distance, hurried footsteps echoed through the passageway.

An envoy dressed in dark silk, with a silver ring around his neck.

His name was Shen Yuan, and he served as the Vice Envoy of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

A few days ago, he obstructed the Qin family from allocating funds and secretly extorted money from them.

Today, he was summoned with the intention of provoking us.

Shen Yuan stepped into the palace, his smile unable to conceal his sharp edge.

He raised his hand and pointed to Qin Shuang's golden seal.

"This seal may be dazzling, but it is not the right path."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone frowned.

Zhou Yang stood behind the hidden pillar, holding a small wooden box in his hand.

Inside the box was a roll of thin paper with densely dotted writing on it.

Those were the ledgers of embezzlement accumulated by Shen Yuan over several years.

Each entry records the gold and silver he embezzled.

Zhou Yang stepped forward lightly, his voice cool and clear.

"Gentlemen, please listen to what I have to say."

He spread out the account book and placed it on the mahogany table.

The pages turned, the handwriting sharp as a knife.

"This man has embezzled seven thousand taels of silver since he took office in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."

"He also secretly sold gold bars from the government treasury for personal gain."

A murmur rippled through the room, and the atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Shen Yuan's expression changed, and anger flashed in his eyes.

He tried to explain, but Zhou Yang pressed his finger down on his lips.

Zhou Yang raised his hand and pointed to the silver ring on Shen Yuan's chest.

"A silver ring records his lifespan."

He chanted a spell in a low voice, and the life-life lines on his chest lit up.

"I'll exchange my lifespan for his cultivation level, and let's see how he protects himself."

Zhou Yang's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were calculating.

He held the flame of life in his palm, the flame a blinding blue.

In an instant, Shen Yuan's internal energy was drained away.

Shen Yuan took a step back, his chest trembling violently.

He screamed in agony as his inner energy collapsed like a tidal wave.

The entire scene was filled with the clash of swords, and the silence was instantly shattered.

The officials retreated in terror, their eyes filled with bloodlust.

"This person has lost his cultivation, and the evidence of his crimes is obvious."

Zhou Yang sneered, his voice echoing throughout the hall.

He folded the account book and gently placed it on Shen Yuan's chest.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the silver ring shattered, and the remaining light faded away.

Shen Yuan coughed up blood in front of everyone.

His hands trembled, and blood dripped from his fingertips onto the mahogany.

He leaned down and whispered, "I...still...want...money."

But he could no longer speak.

The flickering lights inside the hall cast shadows on everyone.

Qin Shuang stood at the front, her eyebrows only showing a faint green hue.

She nodded gently, a hint of satisfaction flashing in her eyes.

"The government's allocation has been received."

Her voice was like cold iron, piercing the heart.

The entire room fell silent, with only the faint hissing of the candlelight.

Shen Yuan's body was carried off the stage, and fragments of the silver ring scattered around.

Then, the Qin ministers praised in unison:

"With the Qin family acting this way, who in the world would dare to disobey?"

The ruler's brows relaxed, but his eyes were fixed on the sharp blade.

Zhou Yang stood in the shadows, looking towards the center of the hall.

A faint smile played at the corners of his lips, as if he were calculating his next move.

As night deepened, the palace gates closed.

The Qin family's prestige was solidified with this trial.

As for Zhou Yang, he had already sealed away the ledger of lifespan consumption in his hand.

He knew that the real game had only just begun.

Qin Mansion completed

The foundation of the Qin Manor was lifted in the dawn mist. The massive stones trembled slightly under the ropes of the craftsmen, dust swirling in the wind. The foreman shouted, "Hold on!" Footsteps echoed in the empty courtyard. Several burly men braced the stones with their shoulders, sweat dripping down their backs. Zhou Yang stood behind the railing of the high platform, squinting as he observed. His gaze wasn't just on the stones, but also on every busy figure.

The bell tolled ten times, announcing the start of the ceremony. Qin Shuang wore a light gray robe with dark silver embroidery on the collar. Her steps were unhurried, her toes lightly touching the bluestone, the sound exceptionally clear in the silence. She walked to the stone base and raised her hand for her attendant to hand her a jade tablet with a wide handle.

"The Qin family, after a century of ruin, has reappeared today." Qin Shuang's voice was deep yet penetrating. She lightly tapped the jade tablet, the metallic clanging echoing in the air.

Immediately, three thousand soldiers lined up in perfect formation. Each soldier's armor gleamed in the rising sun. The color of the armor changed from dark iron to a newly forged indigo, and the emblem on their chests regained its red glow. The army drummers raised their drumsticks, and the rapid drumbeats echoed through the courtyard. The soldiers' steps were powerful and resounding with the drumbeats, kicking up dust that formed a gray-white wave.

Zhou Yang walked sideways to the command platform. Scrolls on the platform were covered with new orders. The swordsman Liu Han looked up, raising an eyebrow slightly: "General, are there any new missions today?"

Zhou Yang smiled and took out a copper coin, gently placing it on the scroll. "First, ensure the troops are properly organized." His words were few, yet they carried weight with each person. Qin Shuang nodded, her gaze sweeping across the entire area. "Every soldier will change into new armor today, embroidering the Qin family emblem." Her command was like an iron key, directly etched into everyone's minds.

The changing of armor was completed in a few short hours. The old armor was removed, and the new armor was piled up to the side. The smell of steel and leather mingled, and the air was filled with the chill of rust. The soldiers stood at attention, the insignia on their shoulders gleaming blood red, like sparks from a fire.

The drumming stopped abruptly, and Qin Shuang walked to Zhou Yang's side. She whispered, "This is just the beginning."

Zhou Yang raised his hand and pointed to the distant mountain peaks. The mountains were shrouded in a thin mist, and points of light seemed to shimmer on the summits. His voice was faint in the wind, yet everyone around him could hear it: "We need to find a true place of destiny. Without a foundation, a building will eventually collapse."

Qin Shuang frowned slightly: "Where exactly is this place of destiny?"

Zhou Yang pulled a piece of parchment from his sleeve, on which ancient runes were drawn. At the center of the runes was a star-shaped stone, surrounded by blood-red cracks. He pointed to the star-shaped stone: "This records the burial site of the ancient 'Dragon Spine Fragments.' If we can collect them all, the Qin family will possess an indestructible shield."

The strategist beside him nodded: "It is said that the fragments are scattered in three places. The first is in the cold valley of the Northern Desert, the second is at the bottom of the water in Jiangnan, and the third is in the ruined temple of the Western Ridge."

Qin Shuang turned her gaze to Zhou Yang and said softly, "This road is dangerous; old grudges may follow."

Zhou Yang's smile remained unchanged as he pulled out a golden token: "Past debts have been settled. Though this body has sacrificed its lifespan, it can be exchanged for an instant breakthrough. We can use time as a bargaining chip."

His voice echoed in the wind. Then, he raised his hand to signal to the crowd: "Starting tomorrow, we will set off in three groups. The cold winds of the northern desert, the deep waters of the south, and the ruins of the western mountains will all fall beneath our feet."

The soldiers responded in unison, and the drums sounded again. The beat was more rapid than before, like heartbeats pounding in their chests. Qin Shuang stood on the high platform, watching Zhou Yang's shadow lengthen in the morning light. She gently touched the badge on her chest, her fingertips feeling the cool metal.

"The Qin family has been revived today," she murmured to herself, "and tomorrow, they will surely rule the world."

Zhou Yang turned and left, his footsteps echoing clearly on the newly paved bluestone. In the distance, on the mountain peaks, points of light seemed to roll within the clouds, as if waiting to be ignited.

He glanced back at the newly completed gate, the "Qin" character carved on the lintel gleaming in the sunlight. Then, he looked up at the sky, the blood-red markings on his chest trembling slightly, as if in response to the journey about to begin.

In the wind, Qin Shuang's long robe fluttered, the rolled-up sleeves gently tapping against the stone wall. She stood in the doorway, holding a dark silver key in her hand, its tip gleaming faintly. She gently inserted the key into the groove on the door and turned it softly.

The stone door slowly opened, its wooden doors creaking softly. Behind the door was a wide corridor, at the end of which lamps cast pale yellow light, the shadows dancing on the stone walls.

Qin Shuang stepped into the corridor and turned back to see that Zhou Yang had already left. She stopped under the light and said softly, "Let's go. The true chapter of the Qin family begins here."

The corridor lights illuminated her resolute profile, the interplay of light and shadow creating a silent scene. She turned and walked towards the door, her footsteps leaving clear marks on the stone slabs. The morning mist had been carried away by the wind, and the Qin residence appeared exceptionally solemn in the sunlight.

The gate slowly closed behind her, its doors slamming shut, echoing across every brick and tile of the courtyard. The Qin family's forces were ready to depart; a new journey was about to unfold behind this city.

Chapter 671 Infiltrating the Spiritual Vein

The wind in the mountain pass carried a rusty smell.

Qin Shuang stopped and wrinkled her nose. "The smell of blood is faint, but it can't be washed off."

Zhou Yang nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist. The Dragon Spine Sword had been lying there quietly ever since its last repair, like a lazy lion that had eaten its fill and was now sleeping.

"The Nine Nether Veins used to be just a place with heavy Yin energy." Zhou Yang's gaze swept over the dark forest in front of him. "Now it seems that someone has changed its purpose."

The two exchanged a glance and said nothing more. With a flash, they disappeared into the forest.

There were no paths in the woods. Everywhere were tangled tree roots, darker than ink. The light was completely blocked by the intertwined branches overhead, making it as dark as dusk.

The fallen leaves beneath my feet were thick, yet they made no sound. They seemed to have been dead for a long time, crumbling at the slightest touch into finer black powder.

The metallic smell in the air grew stronger. It was mixed with another odor, like herbs that had been overcooked and turned bitter.

"Something's not right." Qin Shuang's voice was very low. "The spiritual energy here is too chaotic. It's violent and carries a murderous intent."

Zhou Yang closed his eyes and carefully sensed the surroundings. Unlike Qin Shuang, he wasn't sensitive to spiritual energy, but he could sense "vitality." There was almost no vitality here. The entire mountain resembled a corpse drained of blood.

"Follow the source of the scent." He opened his eyes. "Such a large altar must have a core."

The two continued deeper. The further they went, the damper the ground became. The black soil turned into dark red, hard clumps that were sticky underfoot.

The view ahead suddenly opened up. A huge basin appeared. In the center of the basin was a deep, sunken pit. At the bottom of the pit, a faint red light flickered.

"We're here." Zhou Yang crouched behind a rock, his eyes sharp.

The pit had been artificially modified into a huge circle. The ground was paved with black stone slabs, covered with densely packed patterns. These patterns, though crooked and twisted, formed a strange, interconnected network. The entire basin was a giant altar.

At each point of the altar stood wooden stakes. Hanging from these stakes were desiccated corpses, no longer recognizable as human, resembling strings of dried, cured meat.

In the center of the altar, the red light flickered, like a beating heart.

"What a grand scheme." Zhou Yang clicked his tongue. "This method... they probably want to turn this Nine Nether Vein into a completely malevolent place. What are they planning to do?"

"Whatever they want to do is none of our business," Qin Shuang said coldly. "What we need to do is find the remaining fragments of the Dragon Spine and then destroy this place."

"No rush." ​​Zhou Yang stopped her as she was about to get up. "Look."

He pointed to the edge of the altar. In the glow of the red light, shadows flickered. These shadows had no substance, like pools of flowing blood. They patrolled slowly along the altar's patterns.

"A Blood Shadow Puppet." Zhou Yang recognized it. "Something forged from a large amount of flesh and resentment. Brainless, it only follows orders. Difficult to kill, and it's not afraid of pain. A troublesome watchdog."

"What should we do?" Qin Shuang asked.

"Of course, we should catch one first and see what it's capable of." Zhou Yang's face showed that familiar smile. "Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated. Before doing business, you always have to find out what the other party is capable of."

As he spoke, he casually picked up a small pebble from the ground. With a flick of his finger, the pebble, accompanied by a soft whooshing sound, shot towards the nearest blood-red figure.

The pebble wasn't moving fast, but its angle was tricky. It hit right in front of the Blood Shadow's patrol route.

laugh.

The stone landed on the ground.

The flowing blood-red shadow suddenly stopped. It halted, like a startled leech, its body writhing violently. Then, it changed direction and slid towards where the pebble had landed.

The speed is several times faster than before.

"Here I am." Zhou Yang lowered his body, concealing his aura to the extreme.

The blood-red shadow slid to the rock and stopped. It had no facial features, and a blurry outline protruded from its front, as if it were "observing".

Just then, Zhou Yang made a move.

His figure flashed out from behind the rocks like a ghost. There was no fancy opening move, just a simple thrust of the sword. The Dragon Spine Sword drew a black line in the air, pointing straight at the core of the Blood Shadow.

scoff!

The sword tip pierced Blood Shadow's body, as if it had pierced a piece of incredibly resilient tendon. A tremendous force rebounded, and Zhou Yang's wrist sank.

The blood-red shadow was pierced, yet no sound was made. Its body writhed violently, trying to shred the Dragonspine Sword. Thick blood spread upwards along the blade, emitting a corrosive odor.

"This is indeed interesting." Instead of retreating, Zhou Yang advanced, making a sword gesture with his left hand.

hum-

The Dragon Spine Sword emitted a clear ringing sound. The ancient patterns on the sword blade glowed faintly. A burst of pure sword energy erupted from it.

Click!

On Blood Shadow's body, cracks appeared centered on the sword tip. But instead of dissipating, more black blood gushed from the cracks, and its body swelled up.

"Ordinary sword energy won't hurt it," Qin Shuang's voice came. She had already appeared behind Zhou Yang, her Embroidered Spring Blade unsheathed, its blade flashing like snow, slashing towards the base of the blood shadow.

The blade sliced ​​through the stone, leaving a large gash in the blood-red shadow. But just like before, the wound healed instantly. Black blood splattered onto the ground, corroding small pits into the stone.

"The core of this thing isn't inside the body," Zhou Yang immediately determined. He withdrew his longsword and held it horizontally in front of him. "It's within the patterns of the altar. These blood shadows are merely a terminal."

The red light on the altar seemed to brighten slightly due to their attack. More blood-red figures were alerted and slid in from all directions.

"We must finish this quickly," Qin Shuang said in a deep voice.

"I know." Zhou Yang's eyes grew brighter as he watched the encirclement tighten. He enjoyed the challenge. It was like a cleverly designed lock; you had to find the one and only keyhole.

He stared at his feet. The patterns on the altar stretched out from beneath them, connecting to a wooden stake in the distance. The black blood was flowing along those patterns.

"Sister Shuang, please buy me three breaths of time," Zhou Yang said.

"it is good."

Qin Shuang didn't ask why. She moved. Her swordsmanship became wide and sweeping, no longer aiming to injure the enemy, but instead using the wind from her blade to stir up the rubble and dust on the ground, disrupting the senses and perception of those blood-red figures. In an instant, dust filled the air.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes. Suddenly, the Dragon Spine Sword in his hand trembled slightly.

It's not a vibration, it's a longing.

Like a hungry beast smelling the aroma of meat.

He "saw" the flowing black blood. In the Dragonspine Sword's perception, that stuff was no longer simply filth, but a kind of... energy. A mixed, violent, yet vibrant energy.

He understood instantly.

This sword needs to "eat".

Zhou Yang opened his eyes, a strange light in them. He raised the Dragon Spine Sword, but instead of stabbing at any of the blood shadows, he plunged the tip of the sword into the patterns on the altar beneath his feet.

"Give it to me...suck it!"

He gave a low shout.

buzzing-

The Dragon Spine Sword emitted an unprecedentedly intense hum. All the patterns on the sword lit up, more than ten times brighter than during the assassination.

A tremendous suction force emanated from the tip of the sword. The flowing black blood on the ground seemed to have found an outlet, frantically converging towards the Dragon Spine Sword.

The surrounding blood-shadow puppets emitted a silent shriek. Their bodies began to rapidly wither and shrink. The black blood that made up their bodies was being forcibly drawn out, flowing into the patterns beneath their feet, and then surging towards the Dragon Spine Sword.

The entire process lasted only two breaths.

As the last Blood Shadow Puppet turned into a wisp of ashes, the red light in the center of the basin suddenly dimmed.

Zhou Yang felt a warmth in his palm. A warm current flowed along the sword and into his body.

It's not a technique, nor an insight, but a purer form of feedback.

A clear image surfaced in his mind: the phantom of a dark longsword. And on the hilt of the sword, a very thin red progress bar appeared.

A tiny, faint segment lit up at one end of the progress bar. It was only about one percent of the total length.

"This is... the charging progress?" Zhou Yang was stunned for a moment, then grinned.

He looked down at the Dragonspine Sword in his hand. The blade had returned to its calm state, but it felt warmer and smoother in his grasp than before. It seemed content, as if it had eaten its fill.

"This sword is hungry. We need to find it something to eat," Zhou Yang said to Qin Shuang, weighing the sword in his hand.

Qin Shuang looked at him, her eyes filled with surprise. That move just now had exceeded her understanding of ordinary martial arts. But she didn't ask any further questions. She knew Zhou Yang always had his secrets.

"The core of the altar is still down there," she said, pointing to the deep pit.

"Then let's go down and take a look." Zhou Yang sheathed the Dragon Spine Sword back at his waist. "Now that we've started eating, we should eat our fill. We can't afford to lose money on this deal."

The two jumped into the deep pit. It was colder at the bottom than above. The air seemed to freeze. In the very center, the fading red light originated from a black crystal embedded in the ground.

A few wisps of faint black energy remained on the crystal. That was the energy that hadn't been fully absorbed earlier.

Zhou Yang stepped forward, intending to pry the crystal out.

Just then, a crack suddenly appeared in the ground beneath his feet.

An aura far colder and more immense than before surged forth from the crack.

The fake immortal envoy appears

The aura emanating from the crack wasn't just pure power. It was a coldness, a coldness that could seep into your bones. It carried the smell of rotting earth and old, decaying wood. Zhou Yang's breath caught in his throat; he felt as if he had been thrown to the bottom of a deep well. The light above him vanished in an instant.

Qin Shuang reacted even faster. Instead of retreating, she took a half-step forward. The soft sword at her waist clattered open, its cold light even brighter than the chilling air at the bottom of the pit. Her gaze locked onto the widening crack, and every muscle in her body tensed.

The crack didn't widen further. It simply lay there silently, like a dark mouth. A figure slowly emerged from the darkness.

He wore a light blue Taoist robe, the edges of which were embroidered with dark gold cloud patterns. The cloud patterns were faded from washing, as if he had worn it for a long time. He looked to be no more than middle-aged, with a thin face, but the lines under his eyes were deep, as if he was always squinting at something. He carried no weapons, only a string of dark black Buddhist prayer beads in his hand.

He walked to the bottom of the pit, his feet landing on solid ground without making a sound. It was as if he had never walked out, but had always been there.

His gaze swept over Zhou Yang, then over Qin Shuang, finally settling on the black crystal embedded in the ground. His eyes were devoid of emotion, like a butcher examining two pieces of meat on a chopping board.

"This piece of Xuan Yin Marrow is mine," he said. His voice was flat and even, as if he were stating something perfectly natural.

Zhou Yang remained silent. He was observing the man. Peak True Essence Realm. That was the level he could sense. But what concerned him even more was the subtle connection between the man's aura and the spiritual vein beneath his feet. Like vines connected to their roots. Standing here was equivalent to standing at the source of the spiritual vein.

Qin Shuang spoke coldly: "Who are you? Unauthorized excavation of the capital's spiritual veins is a capital offense."

The Taoist priest seemed to have heard a joke. He twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing an expression that was hardly a smile. "Death penalty? In this Eastern Capital, what I say is the rule." He raised his eyes, finally looking directly at Qin Shuang. "I am an agent of the Celestial Envoy, ordered by the Immortal to cleanse this place of impurity. You are the impurity."

"A Celestial Envoy?" Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow. That term was intriguing. It sounded even more powerful than the emperor.

The Taoist ignored them and walked straight towards the black crystal. He stretched out his hand, fingers spread, as if to grasp the crystal.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the crystal, Zhou Yang moved.

There was no warning or announcement.

He moved like a shadow, skimming the ground as he rushed forward. The Dragon Spine Sword was drawn silently, its tip aimed straight for the Taoist's back. This strike was swift and ruthless, carrying a sharp whistling sound that tore through the air. He never believed in nonsense. Action was more tangible than anything else.

However, the Taoist priest did not even turn around.

He simply stepped back with his left foot and casually stomped it.

"Thump."

A dull thud, not the sound of footsteps, but more like something striking the ground. The ground beneath Zhou Yang's feet trembled violently, and an invisible pressure surged in from all directions. It wasn't airflow, but pure, overwhelming energy. The air seemed to turn into viscous syrup, and every movement felt like it was tearing at his entire body.

His forward momentum suddenly slowed, as if he had sunk into a quagmire. The sword, which had been moving with lightning speed, slowed down, and its trajectory shifted almost imperceptibly.

The Taoist priest stood there, letting the sword tip slowly approach.

"Buzz".

The tip of the Dragon Spine Sword stopped three inches from the Taoist's back. It could not penetrate any further. The pressure layered upon layer, forming an invisible wall. Zhou Yang exerted all his strength, but the tip of the sword only stirred up invisible ripples on this wall.

"Relying on the spiritual veins, you think you're invincible?" Zhou Yang said in a deep voice. He could sense that his opponent's power was almost inexhaustible. Every bit of power could be instantly replenished from the crystal beneath their feet. This battle was unwinnable.

The Taoist priest finally turned around. A hint of pity flickered in his eyes, as if he were looking at a presumptuous insect. "An ant, you don't even have the right to shake a great tree. You shouldn't have interfered."

He pointed his fingers into a sword shape and casually pointed at Zhou Yang's Dragon Spine Sword.

A far more chilling and domineering energy than before rebounded from the sword. Zhou Yang felt a violent tremor in his hand, his arm went numb, and the Dragon Spine Sword nearly slipped from his grasp. He groaned, pushed off with his feet, and floated back several feet before managing to dissipate the force of the rebound.

The Taoist withdrew his finger, his tone remaining calm: "Your sword is not bad. Unfortunately, the person wielding it is too weak. Now, leave your life behind."

Before he finished speaking, he vanished.

No, he didn't disappear. He just moved too fast.

Zhou Yang's pupils suddenly contracted. All he could see in his vision was a single blue finger. That finger was pointed directly at his brow. There was no earth-shattering force, no dazzling light effects. Just a finger. Fast, precise, and ruthless.

The shadow of death instantly enveloped my entire body.

This finger strike was unavoidable.

In the Taoist's view, this one finger gesture signifies the end.

But just as her fingertips were about to touch Zhou Yang's skin...

The system's voice suddenly rang in Zhou Yang's mind.

[A deadly threat detected. Consume lifespan for instantaneous estimation?]

Yes.

This thought wasn't even a thought, but an instinct.

Lifespan reduction: 20 years.

[Deduction begins...]

[Deduction complete.]

In an instant, a massive flow of information rushed into Zhou Yang's mind. It was as if an entire martial arts encyclopedia had been poured into him. The Taoist's finger techniques, power generation skills, the routes of true energy circulation, the flow of every bit of power, every subtle movement... all became crystal clear.

More importantly, he saw a point.

In a perfect move, there is only one discordant point.

The Taoist's peak True Essence Realm was forcibly built up using the power of spiritual veins. His power was immense, but his control was slightly off. It was like a person who wasn't drunk trying to act like they were drunk; there would always be a moment when they forgot which way they were swaying.

And that moment is now.

It is this fingertip that points to the sky and pierces the earth, seemingly perfect.

Its power was so concentrated that the meridians three inches behind the fingertips stiffened for a moment.

Zhou Yang's body reacted in a way that went beyond instinct.

He neither retreated nor blocked.

His head tilted sharply to the left. The movement was so small that it just barely avoided his brow. His body leaned to the right at an odd angle. The movement was so subtle that it was almost imperceptible.

That fatal finger grazed the corner of his right eye.

"laugh--"

A thin line of blood appeared on Zhou Yang's cheek. Warm blood flowed down.

The sensation of a fingernail gliding across the skin is incredibly clear.

But he dodged it.

Between the smallest fractions.

For the first time, the Taoist's gaze changed. The calm that accompanied his observation of the dead was shattered. His fingertips froze in mid-air, his pupils filled with disbelief.

How is that possible?

This "annihilation" technique was activated by him using the power of the spiritual veins. Let alone a True Yuan Realm cultivator, even someone stronger would only be reduced to ashes. How could he possibly dodge it? And yet he only suffered such minor superficial injuries?

Zhou Yang didn't give him time to think.

In the instant he dodged, his hand moved.

He gripped the Dragonspine Sword in a reverse grip, flicked his wrist, and thrust the blade upwards along his arm. It wasn't a thrust, nor a slash, but a sweeping motion.

The sword was not aimed at the Taoist's body, but at his wrist, which was frozen in mid-air.

The sword light, like the fangs of a venomous snake, bit at the only opening the Taoist priest had made.

"court death!"

The Taoist priest was shocked and furious. He abruptly withdrew his hand and stomped down again.

"boom!"

A force ten times stronger than before erupted. The entire bottom of the pit shook, and the black crystal emitted a humming sound as if it could not bear the weight.

Qin Shuang, standing some distance away, looked extremely pale. She was about to rush forward to help, but was forced back seven or eight steps by the force, her blood churning.

Zhou Yang, being at the center of the power, was the first to bear the brunt.

He felt as if he'd been struck head-on by a runaway carriage. He was thrown backward, slamming hard against the pit wall. Gravel rained down. He felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat out a mouthful of blood.

But he smiled.

His face was stained with blood, but his smile was particularly jarring.

"An agent of the immortals?" Zhou Yang wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, straightened his body by leaning against the wall, and said, "Nothing special."

He looked at the Taoist priest with the same gaze he would give to a prey that had just revealed a weakness.

Although that sword strike missed, it made him absolutely certain of one thing.

This so-called "celestial messenger agent" is not invincible.

As long as he stands on this spiritual vein, Zhou Yang will be able to find his weakness.

The twenty years of the system's lifespan were not wasted.

This deal is a good one.