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

A celestial messenger on behalf of someone? Nothing special.

These words were like a needle, piercing the Taoist's carefully maintained dignity. His face instantly darkened, and his eyes no longer held a condescending scrutiny, but rather the rage of someone provoked by a mortal.

"court death."

The Taoist priest let out a cold shout. He held nothing back, his hands forming hand seals as he chanted obscure incantations. The ground beneath his feet began to glow, and the previously dimmed runes lit up one by one. The entire pit seemed to transform into a giant furnace, radiating scorching heat.

Zhou Yang could feel the spiritual veins beneath his feet being forcibly mobilized by this force. The opponent intended to completely detonate this place, turning him and Qin Shuang into ashes.

He didn't hide.

At this point, hiding is useless. The opponent is standing on this spiritual vein, like a fish in water, with endless stamina. The more you try to hide, the more passive you become.

Zhou Yang instead took a step forward, becoming more stable.

He focused all his attention on the Dragon Spine Sword at his waist.

This sword was his last trump card, and also his biggest investment.

"drink."

Zhou Yang roared inwardly.

He didn't use any mysterious techniques or perform any complicated actions. He simply issued a straightforward command using his purest will.

--suck!

Inhale everything beneath your feet!

The Dragon Spine Sword was like a ferocious beast that had been starving for a thousand years, now fully awakened. The blade emitted a soft hum, as if responding to its master's command.

The next instant, an energy storm far more terrifying than before erupted from Zhou Yang's center.

The crack beneath their feet was completely torn open, and the spiritual veins buried deep underground were no longer trickles, but transformed into roaring rivers, surging madly toward the Dragon Spine Sword.

Zhou Yang's body is a conduit.

"puff--"

He could no longer hold back and spat out a mouthful of blood. This power was too violent; it was completely beyond his control. His meridians felt as if countless red-hot wires were piercing through them, and every inch of his skin was cracking. Excruciating pain surged from every part of his body, almost tearing his consciousness apart.

His vision began to blur, and everything in front of him was distorted.

The Taoist's spell had taken shape; a gigantic hand formed from black mist descended from the sky, striking down towards Zhou Yang. This single blow was powerful enough to reduce a small mountain to dust.

Just then, a flash of silver light appeared.

Qin Shuang moved.

She didn't attack the Taoist priest, as that would be tantamount to throwing an egg against a rock. Her figure appeared in front of Zhou Yang like a ghost, the Embroidered Spring Blade held horizontally above her head, a layer of cold white frost on the blade.

"Bang!"

The giant black palm slammed down on the blade. Qin Shuang groaned, her feet leaving the ground as she was thrown backward, crashing heavily against the pit wall before sliding to the ground.

But she ultimately managed to block that fatal blow.

She bought herself and Zhou Yang a precious moment of time.

And this one breath is enough.

Zhou Yang's body swayed precariously, but the Dragon Spine Sword in his hand had reached its limit.

The sword no longer hummed, but emitted a piercing shriek, as if something was trying to break free from it. Cracks spread across the dark blue scabbard, as if it would shatter completely at any moment.

A hint of surprise flashed in the Taoist's eyes. He didn't know what Zhou Yang was doing, but the feeling made him very uncomfortable. It was as if his treasure trove was being brutally robbed by someone else.

He made another hand seal, preparing to launch a second attack.

But it was too late.

The shriek of the Dragonspine Sword abruptly ceased.

The whole world seemed to have been muted at that moment.

The tunnel was deathly silent.

Even the wind has stopped.

Immediately afterwards, a pure blue light shone through the crack in the scabbard. The light was faint, yet it possessed a quality that could penetrate everything.

The blue light grew brighter and brighter.

"Click..."

A crisp sound rang out. The scabbard shattered.

Fragments scattered everywhere. A longsword, its entire body shimmering with a cyan aura, appeared in Zhou Yang's hand. The ancient patterns on the sword seemed to come alive, slowly moving.

A dragon's roar.

It didn't come from the throat, nor from the vibration of the sword. The sound seemed to resonate directly in the depths of everyone's mind, clear, resonant, and carrying an arrogant air of looking down upon the world.

The Taoist priest's incantation, halfway through, was abruptly cut off. His expression changed several times, finally settling into utter horror. He stared intently at the sword in Zhou Yang's hand, his lips trembling.

"This is... a dragon..."

He wanted to say something, but couldn't finish a single word.

Because Zhou Yang moved.

He raised his head and looked at the altar behind the Taoist priest, which was made of countless black stones. That was the source of the other party's power.

Zhou Yang's face was expressionless, only displaying extreme calmness.

He dragged his sword and took a step forward.

Raise your arm and tense your muscles.

Then, it fell.

There are no moves, no variations. It's just the simplest, most direct slash.

A streak of cyan sword light flashed and disappeared in the dark tunnel.

The sword light was quiet, without the whistling sound of tearing through the air or the earth-shattering roar.

It just passed by.

The Taoist priest stood there dumbfounded, even forgetting to dodge. He watched helplessly as the streak of blue light swept past him and struck the altar behind him.

Time seemed to slow down.

A thin black line appeared in the center of the altar.

The black line quickly extended upwards and downwards, running through the entire altar.

next second.

"Boom—"

The entire altar, constructed of black stone, split in two. The evil runes on it, like burning paper, instantly turned to ash. The black stone that made up the altar continued to crumble and shatter, eventually turning into a pile of useless debris.

The foundation upon which the Taoist relied to act with impunity was utterly destroyed by this single sword strike.

"impossible……"

The Taoist muttered to himself, his eyes vacant. He couldn't understand how his altar, which he had painstakingly built up over many years, could be so easily cleaved in two by a single sword strike.

Zhou Yang sheathed his sword and leaned on the ground.

He was panting heavily, sweat mingling with blood from his mouth, dripping onto the ground. Each breath brought excruciating pain to his entire body. The forced energy recharge had nearly drained him dry.

But he stood very straight.

He looked down at the Dragon Spine Sword in his hand, which was humming incessantly. The azure light on the sword gradually subsided, returning to its ancient appearance, but the incomparably sharp aura remained real.

This deal is a good one.

He raised his head and looked at Qin Shuang.

She was leaning against the wall, slowly standing up. There was a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes showed the same shock as the Taoist priest.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

Zhou Yang grinned.

That smile, still as carefree as ever.

crushing force

The laughter echoed in the empty pit.

It carries blood, but also an undisguised sense of pleasure.

The fake immortal envoy looked at Zhou Yang, and the contempt and arrogance in his eyes completely vanished. In their place was a shock that even he himself could not believe.

He looked down at the wound on his chest.

The Taoist robe there was charred, leaving a fist-sized hole. The edges of the wound were blackened, and wisps of black smoke were still rising from it. It was no ordinary wound. The sword energy of the Dragon Spine Sword, like a leech clinging to bone, was frantically eroding his magical power.

He was a dignified celestial messenger who descended to the mortal realm on divine orders; how could he have ever suffered such a severe injury?

The human opposite was clearly just an ant. A mortal who had just stepped into the threshold of cultivation and whose meridians were not even fully opened yet.

How could that be?

"You... what exactly are you?" The Taoist's voice was dry and hoarse. With each word he spoke, the sharp pain in his chest caused his face to twitch.

Zhou Yang did not answer.

He simply raised his hand lazily and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. The movement was slow, with a cat-and-mouse-like ease.

He has made up his mind.

As long as the other party remains standing on this spiritual vein, there's no escape. The twenty years of lifespan he burned earlier weren't wasted. His system has already deduced all the information about this spiritual vein and the pseudo-immortal envoy standing on it.

Including his weaknesses in his martial arts, his escape methods, and even... his truest thoughts at this moment.

fear.

"You scum, stop your arrogance!"

The fake immortal finally snapped out of his shock. He roared, his face contorted with rage. He knew he'd met his match; if he didn't leave now, he might really be done for.

He bit his tongue hard and spat out a mouthful of blood.

The essence blood rapidly expanded in the air, transforming into a complex crimson rune. The rune spun rapidly, the surrounding air began to distort, and a pitch-black crack slowly opened.

This was his trump card for survival: a one-time teleportation spell. If he could escape and return to the Heavenly Realm, he would definitely summon the celestial army to crush this continent into dust!

Zhou Yang watched him busy.

There was not a trace of emotion in his eyes.

It's like watching a script with a pre-written ending.

The Taoist felt Zhou Yang's gaze and a chill ran through him; his hands moved even faster. Just three more breaths, and he could escape!

Two breaths.

The crack had widened to allow one person to pass through. A faint, ethereal aura emanated from the other side—it was a spatial interlayer.

One breath!

Just as a hint of joy appeared on the Taoist's face, he prepared to leap in.

"Buzz—"

A soft sound.

It didn't come from a talisman, nor from a crack. It came from the Dragon Spine Sword in Zhou Yang's hand.

Suddenly, a soft blue light shone from the ancient sword blade.

The light wasn't dazzling, but it carried an irresistible rhythm. It was as if the entire spiritual vein awakened at that moment, bowing down to the sword.

A beam of blue light shot out from the tip of the sword, instantly traversing the distance between the two. It did not strike the pseudo-immortal envoy's body, but instead transformed into an extremely thin beam of light that wrapped around his ankle.

Like an invisible rope.

"What?"

The Taoist priest hadn't reacted yet.

An irresistible, immense pulling force came from my ankle.

He was about to leap into the crevice when he was abruptly pulled back.

With a "plop".

He fell to the ground in a sorry state, like a puppet being pulled back by a rope. The spatial rift that was about to form, having lost its energy support, let out a mournful cry and collapsed instantly, turning into specks of black light and dissipating.

The Taoist was completely dumbfounded.

He looked down at his ankle, where there was nothing. But he could clearly feel a chain, a chain formed from the power of the entire spiritual vein, binding him tightly.

All his escape techniques became a joke under the "lock" of the Dragon Spine Sword.

"I told you."

Zhou Yang's voice was calm, yet it was like a blast of ice, piercing the Taoist's very bones.

"Once the meal is served, eat your fill."

He took a step, slowly walking towards the limp, pseudo-immortal envoy. Each step felt like stepping on the Taoist's heart.

"No...don't come any closer!"

The Taoist priest was completely devastated.

He scrambled backward, using both hands and feet to try and get away from the ever-approaching Grim Reaper. But he was locked on; no matter how much he struggled, he could only twist his body in vain.

Fear overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

"Please...spare my life! I know a tremendous secret! It concerns the upper realm! It concerns the gods!"

He screamed, trying to exchange information for his worthless life.

Zhou Yang's steps did not stop.

He walked up to the Taoist priest, lowered his eyes, and looked indifferent.

"Secrets?" He smiled. "There are no secrets in my life that I can't exchange for twenty years of my life. If there are, then I'll add another twenty years."

He raised the Dragon Spine Sword.

The action is very simple.

It was just an ordinary, straight up-and-down slash.

There were no fancy sword moves, no dazzling sword light.

Like a woodcutter chopping wood.

The fake immortal envoy's eyes widened, his pupils reflecting the approaching cyan sword blade. He tried to dodge, but his body was firmly locked in place. He wanted to beg for mercy, but only strange gurgling sounds came from his throat.

He saw death.

So clear, so... cheap.

"Pfft."

The sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh was very soft.

Zhou Yang's hands were very steady.

The sword fell cleanly and swiftly.

A head flew into the air. The look of terror on its face was still frozen. Blood gushed from its cavity, shooting more than three feet high, staining the surrounding ground red.

The headless corpse swayed for a moment before finally collapsing to the ground with a thud.

The world is quiet now.

Zhou Yang stood with his sword in hand, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. The forceful exertion he had just exerted had taken a toll on him. He staggered, bracing himself against the wall to keep from falling.

He was breathing heavily, but his eyes were bright.

This is the feeling of absolute power.

It's not a life-or-death struggle, but a kind of... crushing. A kind of leisurely, satisfying feeling of getting rid of a troublesome item.

This deal was incredibly profitable.

He bent down and began rummaging through the corpse of the false immortal envoy. Soon, he pulled a black jade slip from his sleeve.

The jade slip felt cold to the touch, and two words were engraved on it in a peculiar script: "Blood Sacrifice".

He probed the jade slip with his divine sense.

A massive flow of information instantly flooded my mind.

It was a list. A densely packed list containing tens of thousands of names. Behind each name was their birth date and time, as well as their cultivation level.

At the very top of the list were the words "Dragon Spine Fragment".

It turned out to be the case.

The so-called celestial messengers and blood sacrifices are all for the purpose of using the life force of these people to repair the fragments of the dragon spine, thereby opening a passage to a higher level.

This register is their ledger.

Zhou Yang put away the jade slip, a knowing smile appearing on his face.

This thing is more valuable than killing that fake immortal envoy.

"Are you... alright?"

Qin Shuang's voice sounded behind her. She walked over, looking at the headless corpse on the ground with a complex expression. Shock, lingering fear, and a hint of... a sense of detachment that she herself couldn't quite explain.

The Zhou Yang she knew was always very powerful and cunning.

But today's scene made her see for the first time the pure, emotionless "evil" in him.

That wasn't decisive killing; it was a callous indifference that treated life like dirt.

"good."

Zhou Yang sheathed the Dragon Spine Sword at his waist and straightened up. He grinned at Qin Shuang, reverting to his usual carefree demeanor.

"It's just a piece of trash who died, it's no big deal." He waved the black jade slip in his hand. "But this is a good thing. With it, we can find out how many players are left in this game."

Qin Shuang looked at his smile and nodded gently.

She didn't ask any further questions.

She knew that from this day forward, the difference between her and Zhou Yang would no longer be merely a matter of strength or weakness.

Rather, it is a chasm.

A chasm between gods and mortals.

"Let's go." Zhou Yang stretched, his bones cracking. "Let's go upstairs and settle the accounts. This debt needs to be cleared up."

He was the first to walk towards the slope of the pit.

Qin Shuang stood there, watching his back. In the dim light, that figure appeared exceptionally tall, and... exceptionally lonely.

She was silent for a moment, then quickly followed.

At the bottom of the pit, only a gradually cooling corpse and congealed blood remained.

The cost of lifespan

As Zhou Yang emerged from the pit, the sunlight was so bright that he squinted.

He walked very slowly, each step feeling like his leg bones were battling, incredibly heavy. Although he had won the battle, the forced charging of the Dragon Spine Sword felt like a dull saw, repeatedly pulling and tugging inside his body. The system kept flashing red numbers in his mind, and his lifespan value fluctuated wildly, like a broken dial, going up and down.

This feeling is awful. It's not just simple tiredness, but a hollow feeling as if all the vitality has been drained away.

Qin Shuang followed behind him, her brows furrowed. She looked at Zhou Yang's slightly trembling back, patted his arm gently, and whispered, "Hold on, we'll be in the room soon."

Zhou Yang didn't speak, only managing a weak smile. He wanted to tell Qin Shuang it was nothing, but the words turned into a low cough. A mouthful of thick, dark blood sprayed directly onto the bluestone slab beneath his feet, its color a deep purple.

His body suddenly went limp, he lost his balance and fell backward.

Qin Shuang reacted quickly, grabbing his waist and holding him tightly in her arms. She could feel Zhou Yang's body temperature dropping rapidly, his skin as cold as ice, and his heart beating erratically, each beat seeming extremely labored.

"Zhou Yang!" Qin Shuang's voice became urgent, this was the first time in a long time that she had lost her icy composure.

Zhou Yang's eyes were half-open, his consciousness beginning to blur. He felt the surrounding sounds fading away, and Qin Shuang's face kept overlapping in his vision. He cursed inwardly; this deal was indeed worthwhile, but the aftereffects were too great. Trading twenty years of lifespan for one explosion had certainly made that proxy see ghosts, but now he felt like a shriveled orange that had been squeezed dry.

Without hesitation, Qin Shuang helped Zhou Yang into the inner room, locked the door, and settled him on the large sandalwood bed.

A faint scent of sandalwood filled the room, but it couldn't mask the stench of blood emanating from Zhou Yang. Qin Shuang looked at his pale face and gently placed her fingers on his pulse. She sensed that Zhou Yang's heart was in disarray, like a tangled mess of rope. If it wasn't stabilized quickly, even if he didn't die this time, he would suffer long-term health problems.

Qin Shuang took a deep breath and slowly took off her outer black robe.

She possessed the Xuan Yin Body, a constitution that, in the eyes of outsiders, was an anomaly that suppressed masculinity, but at this moment, it was the best medicine. She gently lay down beside Zhou Yang, her cool skin pressed against his chest, one hand covering his heart, and began to guide the cold true energy within her body to slowly seep in.

In his half-awake state, Zhou Yang felt a cool sensation creep into his heart. The feeling was strange, like drinking a mouthful of ice-cold well water under the scorching sun. His previously turbulent and chaotic heartbeat calmed down the moment he came into contact with the chill.

He instinctively reached out and grabbed Qin Shuang's collar, his fingertips turning slightly white from the force.

The two were pressed tightly together in the quiet room. Qin Shuang could hear Zhou Yang's heavy breathing. At this extremely close distance, she could feel the ruthless determination in him, and the vulnerability hidden behind that determination.

She looked down at Zhou Yang, her eyes filled with complex emotions. This man was used to calculating everything as a business deal, used to gambling his life on his future, but every time he gambled, she was always the one who ended up losing.

This relationship is strange. She originally thought she was just raising a knife, but now, this knife has become the only thing she wants to protect.

Time passed in silence, and Zhou Yang's complexion gradually regained some color. But just then, his brows suddenly furrowed sharply, and his body convulsed violently.

Deep within my consciousness, the system's cold notification sounded again.

[Warning: Post-recharge side effects triggered. Life essence damaged; current lifespan deficit: thirty years.]

[Status: Weak. If not replenished in time, it will enter a long-term period of weakness.]

Zhou Yang suddenly opened his eyes, his forehead covered in cold sweat. He looked at his hands and found his fingers trembling slightly. This was the price. The power gained by burning one's lifespan would leave behind a vast abyss after the tide receded.

He pushed Qin Shuang away, propped himself up on the edge of the bed, and sat up, panting heavily.

Qin Shuang put on her clothes, looking at him with worried eyes: "What's wrong? Still not calm?"

Zhou Yang didn't answer directly. He looked down at his palm, where a faint trace of black energy still lingered. He knew he couldn't rest now. The real crisis wasn't weakness, but that "gap." If his lifespan couldn't be quickly replenished, his body would gradually wither away until it became an empty shell ready to collapse at any moment.

"It's nothing." Zhou Yang's voice was hoarse. He habitually tried to hide it, but this time he couldn't.

He looked out the window, his gaze deep and thoughtful. The rare and precious materials he had obtained before were no longer fast enough; he needed a higher concentration of energy, a way to directly gain lifespan through killing.

A new set of information flashed through his mind.

[Suggested solution: Hunt down high-level blood sacrificers.]

[Target Characteristics: Blood Sacrifice beings extend their lifespan by consuming the lives of others; upon killing one, their accumulated lifespan years can be directly plundered.]

Zhou Yang's expression changed instantly.

The previous weariness transformed into the sharp gleam of a hunter spotting his prey.

Although he is weak now, it means he has a clear goal. In this world, there is another group of "long-lived people" like him, but with even more despicable methods. These people survive through blood sacrifices, but in Zhou Yang's eyes, they are no longer enemies, but "life-saving batteries" walking in the world.

He turned his head and looked at Qin Shuang. Qin Shuang was looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze, as if trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"Sister Shuang," Zhou Yang suddenly spoke, his tone returning to its usual carefree manner.

Qin Shuang raised an eyebrow slightly: "What, have you decided how to thank me?"

Zhou Yang chuckled, his face still pale, but the greed in his eyes was impossible to conceal. He pointed out the window and said softly, "I want to go out for a stroll. I've heard there are some 'long-lived' distinguished guests around here, and I'd like to go and discuss a business deal with them."

Qin Shuang looked at him, finally sighed softly, and reached out to straighten his disheveled collar.

"Rest for a day first." Qin Shuang's voice regained its usual decisiveness. "You're not allowed to sneak out. Once you can walk a hundred steps steadily, I'll accompany you to 'discuss business'."

Zhou Yang didn't refute. He lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

In the darkness of his consciousness, he could feel the Dragonspine Sword resonating within him. The sword was reminding him that the price of power was heavy, but as long as he could survive in this cruel world and live a more enjoyable life than others, then any price was worth it.

He closed his eyes, already calculating in his mind how many blood sacrificers he needed to kill to make up for the deficit and, incidentally, accumulate several more decades of wealth for himself.

After all, in Zhou Yang's dictionary, there is no such thing as sacrifice, only equivalent exchange.

List of names in shock

Zhou Yang stayed in bed for two whole days.

For the past two days, Qin Shuang has been by my side almost constantly. She changed my dressing several times and brought me porridge a few times, moving very gently and speaking very little.

Zhou Yang slept most of the time. His sleep was light, filled with dreams of burning lifespans and the glint of broken swords. Occasionally, he would wake up to see Qin Shuang sitting at the table, polishing her embroidered spring knife. The blade reflected the candlelight, and also her serene profile.

On the morning of the third day, Zhou Yang sat up.

The sharp pain in his chest turned into a dull, aching ache, and a chill seemed to seep into his bones. But he could feel his strength slowly returning.

"Can you get out of bed now?" Qin Shuang put down the knife and came over to help him.

Zhou Yang waved his hand. He stood there and took a couple of steps. His legs were a little weak, but he managed to stand up.

"He's not completely dead yet," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Qin Shuang handed over a glass of warm water. "I've kept all of that Taoist's things safe."

"Okay." Zhou Yang took the cup, drank it all in one gulp, and said, "Give it to me."

Qin Shuang took several items out of the package. A compass, its needle broken. Several yellowed Taoist scriptures. And a small, locked iron box.

"The box can't be opened," Qin Shuang said.

Zhou Yang picked up the box. It was icy cold to the touch. He gently ran his fingernail across the keyhole, and with a "click," the lock spring popped open.

There was no gold or silver jewelry in the box, only a roll of parchment wrapped in oilcloth.

He untied the oilcloth, and a musty smell of blood filled his nostrils.

On the parchment were names written in cinnabar. One by one, line by line. The ink was dark and somber, as if it had been mixed with blood.

Qin Shuang leaned over for a look, and her expression instantly changed.

"This is……"

"The Blood Sacrifice Register." Zhou Yang's voice was calm. "Each name represents a child who was sacrificed."

His finger scrolled down the list.

There were many names, densely packed together. There were wealthy merchants, landlords, and some military men. These were all cannon fodder, provided as sacrifices and money.

Zhou Yang's gaze lingered on the last few pages of the list.

There are few names here, but each one carries immense weight.

The first name: Zhang Zhengxing, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel.

The second name: Chen Bowen, the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner.

Zhou Yang's breathing paused for a moment. His fingers continued to move downwards.

The third, the fourth... the twelfth.

When his fingertips landed on the last three names, even the air in the room seemed to freeze.

Grand Tutor, Duke of Wei, Xu Chengen.

Grand Tutor, Grand Secretary of the Inner Cabinet, Wang Shouxin.

Grand Tutor, Duke of Zhenguo, Li Changfeng.

Three Grand Tutors.

Of the four Grand Tutors of the current dynasty, the names of three lie quietly on this blood-stained parchment.

Qin Shuang gasped, instinctively taking a half-step back. She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes filled with disbelief and horror.

Born into a prominent family, she was immersed in the world of literature from a young age and understood better than anyone what those three names meant. They were not just three officials; they were the pillars of half the Great Zhou Dynasty. They were the revered figures of countless scholars.

How could they possibly be associated with this kind of cult blood sacrifice?

Zhou Yang did not speak.

He rolled up the roster and put it back in the tin box. The sound of the lid closing was particularly clear in the quiet room.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window lay the ordinary streets and alleys of Anyang County. Vendors hawked their wares, and children chased and played. It was a scene of peace and tranquility.

No one could have imagined that such a terrifying conspiracy was hidden beneath this peaceful facade.

"Zhou Yang..." Qin Shuang's voice trembled slightly, "This matter... is too big. We can't touch it."

"Why?" Zhou Yang turned to look at her, his face expressionless.

"They are the Grand Tutor! To touch them is to go against the entire court! It's treason!" Qin Shuang's voice was urgent. "Even the Embroidered Uniform Guard can't investigate this kind of thing. This will drag us all down with them."

Zhou Yang smiled.

He smiled slowly, but there was no smile in his eyes.

"Treason?" He walked to the table, picked up his Dragonspine Sword, and slowly wiped it with a cloth. "Look at me now, who am I?"

Qin Shuang was stunned.

"He's the demon who slaughtered three thousand Imperial Guards," Zhou Yang said. "He's the madman who massacred the Heavenly Principle Sect's branch altars. He's the peerless evil god who even dared to slay the Immortal Envoy's proxy."

He emphasized the words "peerless evil god" very heavily.

"Does an evil god need a reason to do anything?" He looked at Qin Shuang, a hint of mockery in his eyes. "Does a madman need the court's permission to kill?"

Qin Shuang fell silent. She looked at Zhou Yang and suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity.

The man before me is using a name that everyone fears. He's using this infamy as his best armor and his sharpest blade.

"They want to use me as a weapon, a shield to take their place." Zhou Yang sheathed his sword with a crisp sound. "Now, I'm going to use the sword they gave me to kill them one by one."

He walked to the table, reopened the tin box, and spread out the roster.

His finger pointed to the name of Zhang Zhengxing, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel.

"Let's start with him," Zhou Yang said.

"What do you plan to do?" Qin Shuang finally asked. Her eyes changed, from shock to calm. She knew Zhou Yang had made up his mind. At this point, there was no point in trying to dissuade him. The only thing she could do was follow in his footsteps.

"It's very simple." Zhou Yang tapped his fingertips lightly on the roster. "We won't investigate whether they are Grand Tutors; we'll only investigate whether they are remnants of the blood sacrifice case."

He raised his head and looked at Qin Shuang.

"Aren't you a centurion of the Embroidered Uniform Guard? Now, you hold the core evidence in the case of the Heavenly Principle Cult's blood sacrifice. It's only right and proper for you to be ordered to investigate and track down the remaining members."

"Find one, kill one. Find a group, kill the group." Zhou Yang's tone was as calm as if he were commenting on the weather. "We are acting on behalf of Heaven, eliminating the future threat of cults. It's perfectly legitimate."

Qin Shuang's heart skipped a beat.

She instantly understood Zhou Yang's plan.

An incredibly crazy, yet incredibly meticulous plan.

Using their identities as imperial guards as cover, they carried out the legal elimination of those on the list under the guise of eradicating the remnants of the blood sacrifice.

Even if someone eventually discovers something is amiss, they'll simply assume it's the Embroidered Uniform Guard overstepping their bounds, or that Commander Qin Shuang acted rashly. Who would connect all of this to the legendary "Peerless Evil God"?

They would think that evil gods only lurk in the shadows, enjoying slaughter. Why would they use methods from the mortal realm like the Embroidered Uniform Guard?

This label of "evil god" has become the best smokescreen at this moment.

"This Zhang Zhengxing is greedy and lecherous, and his son is the lackey of that Commander Chen we encountered in Anyang County." Zhou Yang's lips curled into a cold smile. "It's easiest to tear a hole in him."

Qin Shuang looked at Zhou Yang.

He was no longer the man lying in a hospital bed, so weak he could barely walk. Now, he was like a calm chess player, setting up a deadly scheme that could overturn the entire political landscape.

She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and picked up the roster on the table.

"Zhang Zhengxing recently acquired a villa in the south of the city, a place to keep a mistress." Qin Shuang's voice regained its usual composure. "His guards number about thirty men, all skilled soldiers."

Zhou Yang looked at her and smiled.

"It seems my sugar daddy is all set."

He stopped calling her "Lord Qin" and reverted to his original form of address.

Qin Shuang's cheeks flushed slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.

She carefully put the roster away and placed it in her personal bag.

"Wait for my message." She finished speaking, turned around, and left without the slightest hesitation.

The door was closed.

Zhou Yang was left alone in the room again.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes.

The deficit in his lifespan was still enormous, and his body still ached faintly. But in his heart, there was an unprecedented peace and passion.

He began to calculate.

How much lifespan can one gain by killing Zhang Zhengxing?

How much more can you gain by killing the other eleven?

This deal was destined to be a complete loss from the very beginning.

But now, he wants to turn it into a highly profitable venture.

He opened his eyes and looked out the window. The sunlight was perfect, shining on his face and casting half light and half shadow.

"The game has begun," he said softly.

Lure the enemy deep into our territory

Zhao Yang stood on the cliff beside the spiritual vein, the wind lifting the hem of his blood-red robe. He raised his hand, pointing to the distant city, and whispered a few coded words. The sound traveled through the valley, followed the river, and finally turned into shouts at the market at the city gate.

"I've heard that the Lord of the Spirit Vein will be slaying his enemies tonight by the Spirit River. Once the Golden Core is plucked, who will dare to stand in his way?"

The tavern owner by the roadside looked up, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

The laughter and chatter of the drinkers abruptly ceased, replaced by hushed whispers.

Zhao Yang's voice was like a hidden arrow, piercing straight into the ears of the officials. The news spread to the Imperial Treasury, the Ministry of Personnel, and even the Emperor's study in a matter of moments.

The emperor was sitting side by side with Qin Shuang, enjoying the beautiful spring sunshine, when a sudden gust of wind disturbed their peace. Qin Shuang frowned slightly, raised her hand, and gestured for a eunuch to hand her a scroll of memorial.

"Your Majesty," the memorial read in steady handwriting, "recently, there have been unusual movements in the spiritual veins. Zhang Zhengxing, the Minister of the Northern Court, and several high-ranking officials of the Donglin Academy have secretly formed a faction, intending to take advantage of this turmoil to seize the entrance to the spiritual veins."

Qin Shuang pursed her lips, a cold glint flashing in her eyes. She neither denied nor agreed, but simply said softly, "If that's truly the case, how should we defend ourselves?"

The eunuch whispered, "Your Majesty, I suggest that we recall all the envoys to prevent foreign enemies from taking advantage of the situation."

From the lamplight atop the mountain, Zhao Yang saw the lanterns on the city wall light up one by one. He knew that panic had already been sown in the hearts of the officials.

Inside the city, Zhang Zhengxing's mansion was brightly lit, and the civil officials frowned deeply. Zhang Zhengxing stood before his desk, an unrolled scroll in his hand, revealing a densely packed sheet of coded messages.

"If I don't let the power of the spiritual veins come to me, it will surely be taken away by others in the future," he muttered to himself.

A palace attendant quietly entered and asked in a low voice, "Minister, the Emperor has summoned you and ordered that you...?"

A calculating glint flashed in Zhang Zhengxing's eyes, then he waved his hand: "Suppress the news for now, and make a decision after I've investigated."

Meanwhile, Liu Mingyuan, the leader of Donglin Academy, was whispering with Liu Qi of Beifu.

Liu Mingyuan pointed to a notice in the market: "The rumors about Zhao Yang have already caused panic among the people."

Liu Qi nodded and replied in a low voice, "This is precisely the opportunity we can take advantage of."

The guards outside the city gates had changed; the veterans had been replaced by newly arrived armored soldiers. The guards' eyes held unease, and the blades in their hands were sharper.

Qin Shuang stood up in the main hall, her steps light yet carrying an unapproachable aura. She raised her hand, and a writing brush lightly tapped the table, writing four characters: "Beware of internal strife."

The emperor looked at her, his brows slightly relaxed: "Shuang'er, do you have a plan?"

Qin Shuang smiled faintly and said, "Your Majesty, I believe that letting these officials suspect each other and suffer losses is the best defense."

The emperor nodded and turned to summon Xiao Yi, the Grand Secretary. Xiao Yi was a seasoned minister well-versed in intrigue, and he immediately began to devise a plan.

"Steal Zhang Zhengxing's secret letter and hand it over to the palace spies," Xiao Yi instructed in a low voice.

The night was as dark as ink, and the palace lanterns flickered slightly. A secret agent sneaked into the Zhang residence and searched for confidential letters. He found the table covered with silver paper, on which were written the coordinates of the spiritual vein and the sacrificial ritual.

The spy quietly put away the scroll and returned to the palace.

Standing beside the emperor, Qin Shuang said softly, "If this paper falls into the wrong hands, I'm afraid the spiritual veins will be used to force the emperor to abdicate."

The emperor remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Immediately issue an order to seal off all roads leading to the spiritual veins."

Inside the city, Zhao Yang's torch was still burning.

Looking down from the mountaintop, he saw the soldiers lined up outside the city gate, the officials' eyes gleaming, and Qin Shuang's composure in the main hall.

Zhao Yang smiled, but his smile was tinged with calculation.

He turned, stepped off the cliff, and walked into the night.

The next day, the emperor's edict was posted in the government offices of all counties. The text was brief: "Unauthorized trespassing on the sacred vein is strictly prohibited. Violators will be beheaded."

At the same time, a muffled thud came from Zhang Zhengxing's residence.

His secret letter was discovered, the pages were burned, leaving only charcoal marks.

Zhao Yang's news had already reached the ears of every official.

They began to suspect each other, and even secretly sent people to spy on each other's plans.

Liu Qi of the Northern Prefecture sat opposite Liu Mingyuan of the Eastern Forest in the restaurant, their tense expressions reflected in the wine between their cups.

Liu Qi said softly, "If Zhao Yang really comes to seize the spiritual vein, we can strike first."

Liu Mingyuan nodded: "Let them kill each other first, then deal with the rest."

On the city wall, the guards' whistles sounded intermittently.

The night wind whipped up dust, burying it in the cracks of every roof tile.

Qin Shuang returned to her bedchamber and opened a book on military strategy. Her fingertips traced the words, her eyes sharp as knives.

She secretly noted it down: Zhao Yang's every step was forcing the enemy to tear each other apart.

The eunuch came in and handed over a secret letter.

The letter stated, "The entrance to the spiritual vein has been secretly locked; we need to send someone there immediately."

Qin Shuang looked up, her brows slightly relaxed: "Let them lock the door themselves first."

She pressed the envelope tightly to her chest, then left her bedchamber and entered the court.

The emperor stood on his high throne, his gaze sweeping over his ministers.

He heard the golden bells of the city gate outside, the exclamations of the people in the marketplace, and Zhao Yang's mocking laughter from the mountaintop.

"The current situation needs to be calmed down first," the emperor said in a deep voice.

Qin Shuang nodded slightly and turned to walk towards the inner palace. Her figure cast a long shadow in the lamplight, like a sharp knife.

Zhao Yang's plan has already stirred up waves in the officialdom.

He stood on the rocks atop the mountain, observing this game of human nature.

At this time, the capital was shrouded in panic and suspicion.

Officials plotted against each other, and spies exchanged intelligence in dark alleys.

Qin Shuang, under the guise of "concern," secretly guided the emperor's decision-making in court.

Zhao Yang's voice echoed through the valley, like an invisible dagger piercing the hearts of every powerful minister.

As night faded, the sun rose.

On the city wall, no weapons were used, but in everyone's heart, a fire had been ignited.

Zhao Yang stopped and returned to the streets and alleys of the capital.

He stepped into a small tavern and ordered a cup of tea.

The tavern owner looked up, saw him, and was first startled, then smiled faintly.

"If I had known this would happen, why did I do it in secret?" the boss said in a low voice.

Zhao Yang pursed his lips and nodded faintly: "That's just how things are."

He got up and walked out of the tavern; the streetlights were just coming on.

His silhouette was stretched long in the morning light, like a road leading to an abyss.

The closed loop of the conspiracy

The wind was strong at the Qin family's military training ground.

Located in the northwest corner of the capital, this place is usually only filled with shouts of battle and the clashing of weapons. Today, however, it is eerily quiet. The wooden stakes and archery targets stand silently in the dim light, like silent tombstones.

Zhou Yang sat on a stone bench at the edge of the training ground. He wasn't holding a sword, but rather half a half-eaten sesame seed cake.

The person he was waiting for arrived.

The carriage, kicking up dust, stopped outside the fence. The curtain was lifted, and a middle-aged man in a purple robe stepped out. Zhang Zhengxing. The current Minister of Revenue, holding half a purse of the Great Qi Dynasty in his hand, and also the biggest mole of the Heavenly Principle Sect in the capital.

Zhang Zhengxing patted the dust off his sleeves, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly. He looked around, but apart from the sound of the wind, he couldn't see a soul.

"Zhou Baihu?"

Zhang Zhengxing's voice trembled slightly. He didn't believe Zhou Yang would dare to touch him. This was the capital, and he was a second-rank official in the imperial court. Even if Zhou Yang was insane, he would have to consider his own strength.

Zhou Yang stuffed the last bite of the sesame seed cake into his mouth and patted the crumbs off his hands. He stood up slowly, as if he hadn't fully woken up.

"Lord Zhang, this place is quiet," Zhou Yang pointed to the open space in front of him. "It's suitable for discussing business."

Zhang Zhengxing sneered. He took two steps forward and stopped. He stood ten steps away from Zhou Yang. This was the distance he considered safe. The two bodyguards following behind him also stopped, their hands on their sword hilts, their muscles tense.

"Business?" Zhang Zhengxing straightened his collar. "You asked me out just to see this dilapidated training ground? Where's what I wanted?"

Zhou Yang pulled a cloth bag from his pocket. The bag was heavy.

"The dragon spine fragment you requested, and the secret letter from the Heavenly Principle Sect." Zhou Yang casually tossed the cloth bag onto the ground. The bag hit the hard earth with a dull thud.

Zhang Zhengxing's eyes lit up, but he didn't move. He was too cunning. In times like these, the easier something is to obtain, the more dangerous it is.

"Open it." Zhang Zhengxing gestured with his chin.

Zhou Yang shrugged, took two steps forward, bent down, and lifted a corner of the cloth bag.

A faint blue light emanated from the dragon's spine.

Zhang Zhengxing's breathing faltered. It was true. If he could obtain this, combined with his influence in the court, he could not only suppress the Qin family army but also use it as leverage to extract even greater benefits from the Heavenly Principle Sect. Even that position wasn't out of the question.

Greed grew wildly in his heart like weeds.

He gave a wink to the guards behind him. The two guards understood and slowly moved to surround Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang didn't turn around. He looked at Zhang Zhengxing, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Lord Zhang, have you forgotten to settle the accounts?"

"What?" Zhang Zhengxing was taken aback.

"This fragment can bring you power, but what will you use to buy it?" Zhou Yang's voice was very soft, and it was blown away by the wind.

"Fate!" Zhang Zhengxing suddenly roared.

The two guards drew their swords, their cold glint aimed straight at Zhou Yang's back.

Zhou Yang didn't move. Only when the blade was within three inches did he move.

It's not dodging, it's taking a step forward.

This step was extremely strange, as if he had shrunk the distance to an inch, and he crashed directly into Zhang Zhengxing's arms. Zhang Zhengxing was startled and was about to step back when he felt a tightness in his throat.

Zhou Yang's hand gripped his neck like an iron clamp.

puff.

Two lines of blood appeared on the necks of the two guards behind him. They didn't even see how Zhou Yang made his move before their bodies went limp and they collapsed.

Zhang Zhengxing's eyes widened, his legs kicked wildly, and his face turned a deep purplish-red. He tried desperately to pry Zhou Yang's fingers apart, but it was as if he were trying to bend two steel bars.

Zhou Yang lifted him up with one hand, like he was carrying a chicken waiting to be slaughtered.

"Now, it's quiet."

Zhou Yang pressed Zhang Zhengxing down onto the stone pier. Zhang Zhengxing's elegant purple robe was covered in mud, and his hair was disheveled; he no longer resembled a minister at all.

"You...you dare not kill me..." Zhang Zhengxing managed to squeeze out a few words, "I am an official appointed by the imperial court...if you kill me, even Qin Shuang cannot protect you..."

Zhou Yang didn't speak. He stared at Zhang Zhengxing's brow.

He was looking at what was inside the body.

On the surface, Zhang Zhengxing was just an ordinary man who rose to power through flattery. But in Zhou Yang's eyes, there was something more to this guy than meets the eye.

That was the core secret of the Heavenly Principle Sect—the "Blood Sacrifice Seal".

Only the truly high-ranking officials possess this thing. It's usually hidden deep within their flesh and blood, only unleashed when it's unleashed as a devastating attack that destroys their entire lineage. Once this is forced out, Zhang Zhengxing's crimes of treason and practicing evil arts will be confirmed. Even if he had ten mouths, the emperor wouldn't forgive him.

But this thing is well hidden. It can't be detected by ordinary means.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes.

In his mind, the turntable that only he could see began to spin wildly.

Lifespan deduction.

ten years.

This is a huge deal. Forcing the Blood Sacrifice Seal requires deducing dozens of hidden nodes in the human body's meridians. If he miscalculates even one step, Zhang Zhengxing will explode and die, and then the evidence will be lost.

It must be precise. As precise as performing surgery.

In his mind, countless lines intertwined. Zhang Zhengxing's body was being peeled away layer by layer in Zhou Yang's consciousness. Skin, muscles, bones, blood vessels...

found it.

In the third vertebra of the spine, there is a cluster of reddish-black energy, like a venomous snake coiled there.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes. A glint of green light flashed in his eyes.

"Lord Zhang, bear with the pain."

Before Zhang Zhengxing could understand, Zhou Yang's finger had already pointed down.

This finger was pressed on the Dazhui acupoint on Zhang Zhengxing's back.

There was no earth-shattering sound. But Zhang Zhengxing's entire body convulsed violently as if he had been electrocuted. His eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets, and his mouth was wide open, but no sound came out.

That was the loss of voice from extreme pain.

Zhou Yang's fingers tapped his back seven times, as if he were playing a piano.

Each strike was accompanied by a cracking sound as bones dislocated.

puff!

Zhang Zhengxing suddenly spat out a mouthful of black blood. The blood sizzled and emitted white smoke as it hit the ground.

At the center of that mass of black blood, a red mark was slowly wriggling.

It was a strange rune, resembling both a human face and a demon.

This is the evidence.

Zhou Yang released his grip. Zhang Zhengxing collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. He stared at the pool of blood on the ground, his eyes filled with despair. He knew it was over. If this thing came to light, it would be a crime punishable by the extermination of his entire family.

"Qin Shuang," Zhou Yang called out to the empty training ground.

A window was opened on a watchtower in the distance.

Qin Shuang stood there, holding a bronze mirror in her hands. This was no ordinary mirror; it was the "Cloud-Gazing Mirror," a secret artifact of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, capable of projecting images within a ten-mile radius onto the "Reflection Wall" in the palace in real time.

At this very moment, inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

The old man in the dragon robe stared at the large wall in front of him. The scene on the wall was clearly displayed: Zhang Zhengxing's disheveled appearance, the pool of blood emitting black smoke on the ground, and the slowly writhing demonic rune.

The emperor's face was so gloomy it seemed to drip water.

Zhou Yang had no idea what the emperor was thinking. He didn't care. He only knew that this move was enough to forever brand Zhang Zhengxing with shame.

He crouched down and looked at Zhang Zhengxing.

"Tell me, if I were to offer your Blood Sacrifice Seal's operating diagram to the Emperor, how many years of life could I exchange for it?" Zhou Yang seemed to be talking to himself.

Zhang Zhengxing trembled. He wanted to beg for mercy, to promise ten thousand taels of gold and high-ranking official positions. But looking into Zhou Yang's emotionless eyes, he knew it would all be in vain.

This man is a madman. A madman who only cares about making deals.

"Zhou Yang..." Zhang Zhengxing's voice was hoarse, "You think you're safe just because you helped the Emperor? The Heavenly Principle Sect... won't let you get away with this..."

"The Heavenly Principle Sect?" Zhou Yang laughed. "I was just worried about not being able to find them. Now they've delivered themselves to my door, saving me the trouble of running around."

He stood up and clapped his hands.

At that moment, on the distant watchtower, Qin Shuang put down the bronze mirror. She made a gesture towards Zhou Yang.

It became.

The emperor has already seen it. The imperial edict is probably already on its way.

Zhang Zhengxing collapsed to the ground and suddenly burst into laughter. The laughter was shrill and grating.

"You think you've won? This world... is rotten to the core... kill one, and there will be thousands more..."

Zhou Yang looked down at him.

"I don't care if the world is a mess or not." Zhou Yang took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his fingers. "I just want to live a better life. Whoever is in my way, I'll move aside. If I can't move aside, I'll find another way."

The wind stopped.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside the drill ground.

The Black Riders of the Embroidered Uniform Guard have finally arrived.

The leading centurion dismounted and, upon seeing Zhang Zhengxing on the ground and the strange blood, his expression changed drastically. He glanced at Zhou Yang, then at Qin Shuang in the distance, and ultimately chose to remain silent.

He walked up to Zhou Yang and clasped his hands in greeting.

"Commander Zhou, this is an imperial edict."

Zhou Yang didn't kneel. He just stood there, and even had the leisure to straighten his collar.

"speak."

"Zhang Zhengxing colluded with a cult, harboring treacherous intentions. His crimes are heinous. He is to be immediately dismissed from his post, investigated, and imprisoned in the imperial prison, where he will be presided over by Zhou Yang."

The centurion paused, then lowered his voice: "His Majesty also said that Centurion Zhou has rendered meritorious service in protecting the Emperor, and will be rewarded with... a Thousand-Year Pill."

Thousand-Year Elixir.

It's a wonderful thing that can add ten years to your lifespan.

Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow.

This business is well done.

He watched as Zhang Zhengxing was dragged away, bound hand and foot by the Black Riders. Zhang Zhengxing was pulled behind the horse like a rag doll, his eyes glazed over, looking utterly lifeless.

Zhou Yang touched his chest. There, the Dragon Spine Sword seemed to sense something, and it became slightly warm.

This link is now complete.

But this is just the beginning. The Heavenly Principle Cult's network is far larger than imagined. Zhang Zhengxing is merely a loose thread. Who knows how many monsters and demons will be unearthed if this thread is pulled along?

However, no matter how many people are implicated, he will kill them all.

As long as the lifespan is sufficient.

Zhou Yang turned around and walked towards Qin Shuang.

The setting sun cast long shadows of them, which intertwined on the training ground.

"Let's go?" Zhou Yang asked.

"Let's go," Qin Shuang replied.

"Where to?"

"Imperial Prison. Zhang Zhengxing still has some unexpelled stuff in his stomach."

"Okay." Zhou Yang grinned. "Perfect timing. My lifespan is severely depleted; I need to find a place to replenish it."

The two walked out of the training ground side by side.

The wind rose again, stirring up the yellow earth and slowly covering the pool of black blood. Like countless other secrets in this capital city, it was buried beneath a glamorous surface.

But today, someone tore a hole in this layer of soil.

Zhou Yang glanced back.

The stone pier is still there.

He remembered that he had just sat there and finished eating half a sesame seed cake.

That was the most delicious sesame seed cake he had ever eaten in his life.

Wrath of the Evil God

In the morning in the capital, the fog had not yet completely dissipated.

Zhou Yang sat astride his horse, the Dragon Spine Sword in his hand. The scabbard gleamed with a cold, bluish-green hue in the morning light, like a block of solidified ice. Behind him followed two hundred elite Imperial Guards, their hooves striking the cobblestone pavement with a dense, heavy thud, like a long-planned thunderstorm pressing towards the Grand Tutor's residence.

Qin Shuang rode on the flank, the sword at her waist trembling. She didn't speak, but stared at Zhou Yang's profile.

She noticed that Zhou Yang had changed. He used to always calculate things meticulously before taking action, and would even haggle for a long time over a mere tael of silver. But now, his eyes no longer held so many of these subtle calculations; instead, they held an almost cruel calmness.

That tranquility was like a bottomless ancient well, drawing in all the surrounding air.

"arrive."

Zhou Yang reined in his horse in front of the gate of the Grand Tutor's mansion.

A row of imperial guards stood on either side of the gate, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. The leading captain stepped forward, raised his spear, and said in a low voice, but with an undeniable air of authority: "Lord Zhou, this is the Grand Tutor's residence. No one is allowed to enter without an imperial decree."

Zhou Yang ignored him and didn't dismount. He looked down at his fingers, his fingertips gently tapping the saddle in a slow rhythm.

"Imperial decree?" Zhou Yang chuckled, took out a roll of bright yellow silk from his pocket, and threw it directly at the other person's face.

The silk, like a tattered cloth, was slapped onto the captain's helmet with a thud.

The captain froze, instinctively reaching out to take it. But as he unfolded the imperial edict, his expression instantly changed. The handwriting was dry and crisp, the imperial intent chilling, containing only eight characters: "Investigate the Grand Tutor thoroughly, without hesitation."

"Get out of the way." Zhou Yang's voice was very soft, but it sounded like a knife scraping bone.

The captain wanted to say something more, perhaps because he felt that the Grand Tutor's influence in the capital was too deep, and even with an imperial decree, Zhou Yang couldn't be allowed to lead his troops in so easily. He had just opened his mouth when he felt a cold wind brush against his neck.

Zhou Yang moved.

No one saw how he made his move. The horse remained in place, but the Dragon Spine Sword was already unsheathed.

A streak of cyan light flashed through the air; there were no fancy moves, just a pure, unadulterated slash.

"boom!"

With a deafening crash, the once heavy vermilion gate was cleaved in two like a block of tofu. The massive door panels rolled to the sides, kicking up clouds of dust.

The captain reacted extremely quickly, instantly parrying with his spear. But the moment the Dragon Spine Sword touched the spear tip, it unleashed a terrifying suppressive force.

The gun barrel was split into three pieces, just like a hemp stalk.

The captain was thrown more than ten meters away by the huge impact, like a tattered sack, and crashed heavily onto the artificial rockery in the mansion. He spat out a mouthful of blood and passed out before he could even scream.

The surrounding guards were stunned. They had seen skilled fighters, but never such irrational violence.

Zhou Yang slowly dismounted, his long sword pointing diagonally at the ground, the tip of the sword leaving a deep mark on the bluestone.

"Anyone who tries to stop them will die."

He glanced back at the Imperial Guards who were still in a daze, a strange smile playing on his lips.

The Imperial Guards immediately understood and, with a roar, surged into the mansion like a tidal wave.

The Grand Tutor's mansion, which should have been a quiet and elegant place, has now become a slaughterhouse.

Those trusted confidants who had served under the Grand Tutor for many years were now the most desperate. They tried to resist, but under Zhou Jijian's sweeping attacks, all their defenses were a joke. Zhou Yang walked through the mansion, and with each step, another corpse appeared around him.

He wasn't wasting time; he had only one goal.

The Grand Tutor's study was located at the deepest part of the backyard.

When Zhou Yang kicked open the heavy sandalwood door, he saw the Grand Tutor slumped in his armchair. The Grand Tutor, who was usually so elegant in the imperial palace and followed by countless scholars, was now trembling uncontrollably, his eyes unfocused, and his hand clutching a yellowed ancient book tightly.

"Zhou Yang...you...you can't do this." The Grand Tutor's voice was trembling, like a bellows about to die.

Zhou Yang didn't reply. He walked up to the Grand Tutor and slowly placed the Dragon Spine Sword on the table.

The heavy metallic clang caused the teacups on the table to shake violently, spilling tea all over the floor.

"Let's talk business." Zhou Yang pulled over a chair, sat down backwards, and leaned back with a languid expression.

The Grand Tutor stared intently at him, a glimmer of hope in his eyes: "If you let me go, I can give you... I can give you all the hidden treasures of the Grand Tutor's mansion! And three lost internal energy cultivation manuals—just ask, and they're all yours!"

Zhou Yang smiled.

He laughed heartily, as if he had heard an extremely funny joke.

"Treasure? Cultivation techniques?" Zhou Yang shook his head, his eyes gradually turning cold. "Grand Tutor, you haven't grasped the situation. I have no interest in those scraps of metal; what I lack is lifespan."

The Grand Tutor was stunned, clearly not understanding what he meant.

Zhou Yang stood up, leaned forward, and instantly cast a shadow over the Grand Tutor.

"I know the evil art you practice that allows you to extend your lifespan by sacrificing blood relatives," Zhou Yang's voice turned low and dangerous. "You should have accumulated quite a bit of 'years' by now, right?"

The Grand Tutor's face turned deathly pale instantly. He instinctively tried to shrink back, but his back was already pressed against the cold chair back.

He realized that the young man in front of him hadn't come to carry out the imperial decree at all; he was there to steal. And what he was trying to steal was his most vital possession.

"Please... I can help you find more people to sacrifice, I can help you..." The Grand Tutor began to beg for mercy incoherently, large beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.

Zhou Yang looked at his pitiful appearance without any pity in his eyes.

In his logic, begging for mercy is the cheapest thing. Faced with absolute power, if the value offered by the other party is insufficient to sustain its survival, then the most reasonable course of action is to convert it into value.

"The deal is done."

Zhou Yang said softly.

Before the Grand Tutor could even react to what those words meant, Zhou Yang's right hand had already transformed into a blur, precisely gripping the Grand Tutor's crown.

"you……!"

The Grand Tutor's fear froze in an instant.

Zhou Yang closed his eyes, and deep within his consciousness, the pointer of the lifespan system spun wildly. He felt a warm energy being forcibly drawn from the top of the other person's head, like a rushing river suddenly pouring into his body.

The Grand Tutor's body was rapidly withering away.

His once plump cheeks quickly became sunken, his skin clung to his bones like dried tree bark, his eyes gradually lost their luster, and finally he became a withered shell.

[High-purity lifespan energy detected; current lifespan increased by thirty years.]

A cold, impersonal system notification echoed in my mind.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes and let out a long sigh of relief. He felt that some of the deficiencies in his body had been filled, and the meridians that had been aching slightly became smooth again.

He released his grip, and the Grand Tutor's body, like a dried-up piece of wood, fell backward lifelessly.

Zhou Yang looked down at his hands, then looked out the window.

Outside, the clamor of the Imperial Guards purging the remaining forces filled the air, the stench of blood mingling with the fragrance of blooming peonies in the courtyard, creating an indescribably eerie atmosphere.

This is the scene that Qin Shuang saw when she pushed the door open and came in.

She looked at the desiccated corpse on the ground, then at Zhou Yang's calm expression, and her heart clenched suddenly.

She knew Zhou Yang was no ordinary man, but she didn't realize that he had already embarked on a path of no return.

"Clean it up." Zhou Yang turned around, sheathed the Dragon Spine Sword again, his tone as indifferent as if he were discussing the weather.

Qin Shuang remained silent for a moment, then bowed her head and replied, "Yes."

Zhou Yang stepped out of the study, and the sunlight shone on his face again. He looked up at the blue sky of Beijing and suddenly felt that the sunlight was a bit too bright.

He pulled out half of the remaining sesame seed cake from his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed it vigorously.

The sesame seed cake had gone cold and had little flavor, but he ate it very slowly, as if he wanted to swallow the dry, hard food completely in order to suppress the bloody taste from before.

He walked back to his residence, with wreckage scattered all around him.

No one knew what he was thinking, and no one dared to ask. In people's eyes, he was now a ruthless god of war who held absolute power, the sharpest knife in the emperor's hand.

But Zhou Yang knew that he was still the businessman who survived by scheming.

The only difference now is that the stakes have become human lives.