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

Zhou Yang pushed open the window.

The courtyard was in chaos. Chen Qianhu's men were like headless flies, running around aimlessly. Some ran away crying, some cursed, and many more were ransacking the place. The corpse on the ground was still lying there, unattended. The bloodstains turned dark red in the sunlight.

He turned around.

Qin Shuang was sitting at the table, grinding ink. Her movements were steady, as if the commotion outside had nothing to do with her. The ink she ground was very thick, as black as a river in the dead of night.

"They found the ledger," Zhou Yang said.

"It's fake." Qin Shuang didn't even look up, her voice calm. "I know what you did."

"Fake account books, just enough to throw them into chaos." Zhou Yang closed the window, shutting out the noise from the courtyard. "The real stuff, they've hidden it all well. We have to get it out before them."

Qin Shuang put down the inkstone and looked up. Her eyes were bright, like freshly washed gems. "The Salt Gang and Commander Chen's hideout—where do you want to begin?"

"Chen Qianhu's residence." Zhou Yang said without hesitation, "He's the kind of person who trusts no one. He always keeps his most valuable possessions under his own nose."

Neither of them said anything more. Qin Shuang changed into a centurion's uniform, with a sword at her waist. Zhou Yang was still wearing his captain's uniform, looking like her follower. This suited them perfectly.

They led several dozen reliable yamen runners straight to the Chen residence.

The gates of the Chen residence were wide open. The inside had been ransacked. All valuables were gone, likely taken by his men in the chaos. They didn't care about those things.

Zhou Yang went straight to the backyard. He remembered that Commander Chen had a habit of spending time in his study. His study was connected to his bedroom.

The study door was locked. A constable was about to kick it down when Zhou Yang stopped him.

He crouched down and examined the lock closely. This wasn't an ordinary lock. Next to the lock cylinder was a tiny, almost invisible hole. He pulled a thin wire from his pocket and inserted it. He gently turned it.

Click.

The lock is open.

A hint of surprise flashed in the eyes of the constables. Qin Shuang watched from the side, and the corner of her mouth seemed to twitch slightly.

The study was very tidy. It was a completely different world from the chaos outside. There was a musty smell mixed with a hint of sandalwood. This was Chen Qianhu's favorite scent.

Zhou Yang didn't look for the bookshelf. He walked to the wall and knocked on it. A dull, solid sound. He then walked to a landscape painting. It depicted high mountains and flowing water, quite vulgar. He took the painting down.

Behind the wall was a blue brick.

He pressed down on the brick and pushed it hard.

The wall slid open silently, revealing a dark, gaping room.

The smell inside was even stronger. A metallic, metallic odor mixed with dust.

The constables lit torches and went inside. It was larger than they had imagined. Boxes of silver ingots were stacked neatly. The top layer was blackened, a sign of oxidation. Several wooden crates lay nearby. They opened them. They were full of jewels—red, green, and blue. Even in the dark room, they glowed on their own.

An old yamen runner swallowed hard, his voice trembling, "Zhou...Zhou, this...this must be over ten thousand taels of silver, right?"

"Not just that." Zhou Yang said calmly. "This is just what's visible. Look for hidden compartments."

Sure enough, beneath the innermost chest of gold, they found a hidden compartment. Inside were no gold or silver, only a few thin booklets and a land deed.

The names recorded in the register were all prominent figures in Anyang County. Each name was followed by a string of numbers. This was Chen Qianhu's real leverage. The land deed belonged to a pawnshop in the south of the city.

"Let's call it a day." Zhou Yang put the booklet away. "Seal these things away and take them back to the yamen."

Next up is the Salt Gang.

The Salt Gang's headquarters were at the docks in the east of the city. That place had been burned to the ground. This wasn't the place Zhou Yang was looking for. The Salt Gang's true lair was underwater.

They found a small boat and rowed to the middle of the river. Zhou Yang took out a map he had found on the body of the salt gang leader and, following the map, positioned the boat in a safe spot.

He found a long rope, tied a large rock to the end, and threw it down to test the depth. Then, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular upper body. There were a few shallow scars on his skin.

"Are you going down?" Qin Shuang asked.

"Hmm," Zhou Yang said, "Things underwater can't be taken away by others."

He took a deep breath and plunged into the water. The water was cold. He opened his eyes and swam downstream. The water was murky, and he couldn't see very far. Guided by his senses, he found a protruding rock underwater. On the rock was an iron ring.

He put the rope around the iron ring, giving a signal to the people on the shore.

Several people pulled together. As the rope tightened, a dull thud came from the water. A huge iron cage was slowly pulled out of the water. The cage was covered with seaweed and silt.

The cage was opened, revealing several boxes tightly wrapped in waterproof tarpaulins. Upon opening them, they were found to be filled with top-quality government-supplied salt. In those days, salt was more precious than gold. This batch of salt was enough to supply half of Anyang Prefecture for a year.

By the time they returned to the county government office, it was already dark.

Everything was piled up in the interrogation room: gold, silver, jewelry, land deeds, salt, and those few black ledgers.

By candlelight, Qin Shuang gazed at the mountain of wealth, her eyes filled with complex emotions. "How should we divide all this?"

"Three copies." Zhou Yang picked up an account book, flipped through a couple of pages, and put it down again. "The first one, which is also the largest, must be 'confiscated'."

Qin Shuang looked at him.

Zhou Yang explained, "We have to hand over this batch of salt, along with most of the gold and silver, to the national treasury. The figures have to be reported accurately. This way, the credit for the major case in Anyang Prefecture will fall entirely on our shoulders. Your position as a centurion will be secure, and my position as a captain will be legitimate. Those in higher positions will have nothing to say and will even praise our competence."

"This is an achievement," Qin Shuang nodded. She understood.

"The second one is for bribing officials." Zhou Yang picked up a silver ingot and weighed it in his hand. "We can't forget Lord Zhi, and that 'noble person' in the capital. They helped with this case. We have to be sensible. Also, we need to give some rewards to those in the yamen who helped us. We have to win people's hearts."

Qin Shuang's gaze softened. She hadn't expected Zhou Yang to think so deeply.

"And what about the third one?" she asked.

Zhou Yang smiled. He took the several black ledgers and the land deed in his hands.

"The third share is ours," he said. "Chen Qianhu's money came from illegitimate sources. If we take it, it'll be a hot potato. But using his money to buy his properties is perfectly legitimate."

He pointed to the land deed. "The pawnshop in the south of the city is a good start. We'll take it over and convert it into another business. That money will then go from black to white."

"Change it to what?"

"A teahouse," Zhou Yang said without hesitation. "Let's call it 'Sanwei Tea House.' On the surface, it's a place to drink tea and listen to storytelling. In reality, it's our base. Pawnshops usually have dark rooms underground. Perfect for storing things that can't be exposed to the light."

Qin Shuang understood. The "things" he was referring to were those corpse puppets.

"Where's the black tent?" she asked again.

"The Black Book," Zhou Yang's eyes gleamed in the candlelight, "is a talisman. The people in the book are all terrified now. We don't need it; just holding this book in our hands will make them obedient. From now on, Anyang County will be ours."

He paused, looking at Qin Shuang.

"Of course, you'll be in charge of all these things. I'm just a junior officer working for you." He said sincerely, but his eyes were full of calculation.

Qin Shuang didn't reply. She walked to the pile of gold and silver and picked up a string of pearls. The pearls were round and shimmered in the firelight.

She handed the beaded string to Zhou Yang.

"Here, take this," she said. "Consider it a gift from me."

Zhou Yang was taken aback. He looked at Qin Shuang. Her face was half in light and half in shadow in the flickering candlelight. He couldn't see it clearly.

He didn't refuse and took it. The bead was cold to the touch and very heavy.

"Okay." He only said one word.

The next day, Zhou Yang acted swiftly.

He drafted a list detailing the salt and silver that had been "confiscated." The amounts were slightly less than the actual value, but still staggering enough. He personally led his men to deliver the list and a portion of the confiscated goods to the prefect.

The magistrate looked at the list and couldn't stop smiling. In front of Zhou Yang, he praised Qin Shuang for her "keen eye for talent" and Zhou Yang for his "promising young age." He even approved on the spot to award a reward to the entire Anyang government office.

Back at the yamen, everyone's gaze towards Zhou Yang changed. Respect and obsequiousness filled the air. He became the de facto second-in-command of the yamen.

Then, he secretly sent a small wooden box to Lord Zhi's steward. Inside were several gold bars. He simply said it was "a small token of Lord Zhi's appreciation." The steward accepted it without saying a word.

A few days later, the pawnshop in the south of the city got a new owner and hung up a new signboard—"Sanwei Tea House".

The decor is simple, even somewhat shabby. But the backyard of the tea house is a completely different world.

The dry well in the courtyard was reopened. The well was dry and spacious. Zhou Yang personally went down and carefully placed the corpse puppets used in the killings inside. He then sealed the well opening with a stone slab, piling up miscellaneous items on top.

From the outside, it looks like an abandoned well.

Late at night, Zhou Yang sat alone in the back room of the teahouse.

He lit an oil lamp. The light was dim. He spread out the several secret manuals he had taken from the corpses of the Heavenly Principle Cult members on the table. The pages were brittle and carried a strange smell of blood and herbs.

He stretched out his finger and gently touched one of the runes on it.

It was cold.

He smiled.

Money can buy many good things.

For example, fate.