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

Black Tiger is gone.

The smell in the room hadn't dissipated. The smell of sweat, the sourness of cheap liquor, and a faint trace of blood.

Zhou Yang sat behind the ledger, without moving.

The table in front of him was a worn-out eight-immortal table. The surface was covered with scratches, as if someone in the past had casually scratched it with a knife. His fingers slowly traced the deepest scratch.

Imperial Advisor.

Seriously injured.

Blood pool.

blood sacrifice.

A member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard surnamed Qin.

These words, like hooks, hung together in his mind. The news Black Tiger brought was fragmented, yet like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, they could be pieced together to form a complete picture.

A very sinister pattern.

Zhou Yang's mind was clear. The Imperial Advisor wasn't at the Demon Suppression Division. That place was a decoy. A flypaper, specifically designed to catch hot-tempered people like himself. He had almost run right into it while pretending to sneak in tonight.

The real chessboard is in the palace.

The Imperial Advisor is about to undertake a major task. This task requires a "Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) officer surnamed Qin" as the chief strategist.

Qin Shuang.

He closed his eyes. The image of her hanging in the prison, covered in wounds, yet her eyes still hardened, flashed through his mind. And there she was, at the bottom of the dry well, reaching out to touch her wounds. Her fingertips were warm.

This woman became an ingredient in someone else's prescription.

Zhou Yang's eyelids twitched. He opened his eyes, but there was no warmth in them.

It wasn't to save her, he told himself. It was for himself. The Imperial Advisor had his eye on Qin Shuang, and he wouldn't let it go easily. He and she were in the same boat; if the boat sank, neither of them could escape.

This is a transaction. He saved her, and she provided value. Now that she is in danger, that value is threatened.

He must deal with this threat.

But blood sacrifice… Zhou Yang's fingers stopped. What lay behind that word was far from simple. Who was the Imperial Advisor? A powerful figure who stirred up storms. His elaborate blood sacrifice was definitely not just for healing.

Treating the injury was just an excuse.

What is the real purpose then?

Zhou Yang stood up. He paced back and forth in the small room. The floorboards creaked. He walked to the window and pushed it open a crack. It was dark outside, and the few stars were dimmed by the distant lights.

He needs a higher place. A place where he can see the whole game clearly.

In the courtyard of the mortuary, several thin-skinned coffins lay. They were prepared for the poor in the city. Moss grew thickly in the corners of the walls, making them damp. A lingering smell of decay filled the air.

Zhou Yang didn't go through the door. He glanced at the roof beam, then with a light step, he silently climbed up. Like a cat, he walked a few steps on the beam, found a corner, and gently pushed aside a tile.

A cold wind blew in.

He crawled out and stood on the roof of the mortuary.

The roof tiles were slippery and chilly with the night air. He crouched down, his entire being blending into the silhouette of the roof.

From here, you can see most of the capital city.

The shadows cast by the eaves stretched like black waves all the way to the horizon. The watchman's clapper sounded from afar, striking again and again in the silent night.

But Zhou Yang's gaze did not fall on these things.

He looked up at the sky.

Something's not right in the night sky over Beijing.

It wasn't dark clouds. It was a pale red, like someone had spilled a basin of blood, seeping into the black curtain of darkness. The blood wasn't intense, yet it spread, enveloping the entire city. Ordinary people couldn't see it clearly; they only felt that the moonlight tonight was somewhat strange.

But in Zhou Yang's eyes, this red cloud was alive.

It flows slowly, like a giant, invisible monster breathing above the city. With each breath, it draws away a barely perceptible breath from below.

Anger. Or rather, resentment, malevolence.

This is the Imperial Advisor's "Heavenly Net and Earthly Trap".

A massive net has been cast over the entire capital city.

Zhou Yang's face darkened. He sensed that he wasn't the only one caught in this web.

A shadowy figure flashed past in the alley. So fast it was almost an illusion. It was the Blood Shadow Guard, the Grand Preceptor's henchmen, searching every nook and cranny.

On some rooftops, people crouched low, moving under the cover of night. Their movements were more stealthy, reminiscent of those of martial arts practitioners. Were they bounty hunters, or rogue cultivators driven by profit?

Even more sinister auras emanated from inconspicuous corners. Zhou Yang recognized those auras; they belonged to the remnants of the Heavenly Principle Sect. They too had caught the scent of blood and swarmed over like hyenas.

Everyone is aiming for the same goal.

Qin Shuang.

No, that's not right.

Zhou Yang's mind raced. Everyone thought the target was Qin Shuang. Could this also be a decoy?

The Imperial Advisor spread rumors that Qin Shuang was a sacrifice. Everyone went to find Qin Shuang. Chaos ensued. Meanwhile, the Imperial Advisor was doing something else.

A true hunter will first use a hare to lure out all the wolves in the valley.

While the wolves chase the rabbit, the hunter can safely pick up the mushrooms he truly desires.

Qin Shuang... is that the rabbit?

What kind of mushroom did the Grand Preceptor really want?

Zhou Yang's breath hitched slightly. He remembered Black Tiger's words: The Imperial Advisor was seriously injured.

What kind of injury requires a city-wide blood sacrifice to heal? What is the Grand Preceptor's cultivation level? There are very few people in the world who can harm him.

This blood sacrifice was not for healing wounds.

Is it for... consecration?

The thought popped into my head, crystal clear.

What needs to be consecrated? It requires the bloodline of a Jinyiwei (Imperial Guard) member surnamed Qin, and a blood sacrifice that engulfs the entire city.

The Qin family...

Zhou Yang remembered Qin Shuang's identity. She wasn't an ordinary Imperial Guard. She was a member of the Qin family—a descendant of the previous dynasty, a family burdened with a certain secret.

What are they hiding?

Imperial seal.

An almost impossible answer, yet perfectly logical, surfaced in his mind: the Imperial Seal of the State. That thing said to carry the fate of the nation. If such a thing truly existed, tainted with the purest blood of the previous dynasty's royal family, and then purged with the murderous aura of the masses…

What will happen?

Zhou Yang dared not think any further. He only felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight up to the top of his head.

The Grand Preceptor's ambitions are not for the Ming Dynasty.

His goal is the heavens.

Just then, a cold, emotionless voice rang out in his mind.

[Critical node detected...]

[Hidden quest triggered.]

[Mission Name: Stop the Blood Sacrifice and Seize the Fragment of the Imperial Seal]

[Mission Description: The Imperial Advisor intends to use the bloodline of Qin Shuang, a member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, as a catalyst, and borrow the malevolent energy of the capital's inhabitants to "consecrate" a fragment of the Imperial Seal, thus plotting against Heaven. Stop him and seize the fragment of the Imperial Seal.]

[Mission Reward: Fifty years of lifespan.]

[Failure penalty: Death.]

Zhou Yang's pupils suddenly contracted.

Lifespan of fifty years.

This number struck him like a heavy hammer. He had always been burning his life force to gain power. Every second, he was getting closer to death. And now, a full fifty years of life was before him.

There is only one thing that needs to be accomplished.

Stop the Imperial Advisor.

Kill the Imperial Advisor.

To seize the imperial seal.

Zhou Yang's lips slowly curled upwards. But it wasn't a smile. It was the ferocious and excited expression of a wild beast when it sees its prey.

Risk and reward are always directly proportional.

The risk of this mission is to provoke a near-spiritual imperial advisor, and to go against the entire world order. Failure means death.

But the benefits are limited to fifty years of life.

Fifty years of life. It means he no longer needs to be so stingy with his lifespan. It means he can burn his life force without restraint, developing stronger techniques and martial arts. It means he can truly transform from a pawn into a player.

This deal.

Well done.

A fire was burning in Zhou Yang's chest. Not the fire of excitement, but the fire of greed. A greed for survival, for a better life, for a longer life.

He looked down at the window of the mortuary. It was pitch black inside. Qin Shuang was probably still healing. She didn't know where the real mesh of this intricate web outside was. She was even less aware that she had transformed from a "sacrifice" into a "key."

A key that unlocks the imperial advisor's shocking conspiracy, and also unlocks his own fifty years of lifespan.

Zhou Yang exhaled a long breath of white air.

"We need to help these wolves in the city find the rabbit first," he muttered to himself.

Only when everyone thinks that the target is still Qin Shuang can he free up his hands to overturn the Grand Preceptor's card table.

How do I lift it?

He needs chaos. Even greater chaos.

The Black Tiger Gang is a good starting point. But it's not enough.

He needed a reason, a reason that would allow him to stand in the open and fight everyone.

Zhou Yang's gaze returned to the blood-red sky.

He remembered the Blood Shadow Guards he had killed in the Demon Suppression Bureau prison. He remembered the mask that had been peeled off his face and the blood-stained token.

He smiled.

A plan quickly took shape in his mind.

Sometimes, the best hiding place is in the enemy's ranks. Sometimes, the best way to attack is... to take their place.

He stood up, and the wind on the roof grew stronger, making his black robe flutter loudly. He looked down at the Blood Shadow Guard uniform he had taken from someone else.

Starting today.

He is no longer just Zhou Yang.

He is also a Blood Shadow Guard who is searching for "fugitive Qin Shuang".

His fingers tapped lightly and rhythmically on the roof tiles.

笃.

笃.

笃.

The sound carried far in the quiet night.

It's like sending a signal in a certain direction.

Below, the capital city resembled a sleeping behemoth. Zhou Yang stood on its back, his eyes flashing with a cold light as if he were about to dissect its chest.

The game has only just begun.