Nine Nights Owl Song

Autumn of the fourteenth year of Yong'an.

Ah Jiu is thirteen years old.

Her status as a silver-ranked assassin brought her not only higher pay and better treatment, but also more missions.

From the spring of the thirteenth year of Yong'an to the autumn of the fourteenth year, in a year and a half, Ajiu completed twenty-three assassination missions. On average, he carried out more than one per month, sometimes traveling to two different places and killing two different people in a single month.

All twenty-three missions were completed without a single failure.

Such a success rate ranks first among the silver-ranked assassins of the Dark Pavilion.

Her methods of killing became increasingly simple, efficient, and devoid of unnecessary movements.

Initially, she would spend time studying the target's lifestyle, designing complex infiltration and escape routes, and using various methods to create the illusion of "accidental death."

She doesn't need it anymore.

All she needs to know is where the target is, how many guards are around, and what the weakest point is. Then she'll appear at that time and place, solve the problem with a single strike, and then disappear.

The entire process, from her appearance to her disappearance, usually takes no more than ten breaths.

Some people started calling her "The Night Owl Who Kills" in the underworld.

This name wasn't given to her by the Dark Pavilion; it was given to her by people in the martial arts world. Those who had heard of the name "Night Owl" knew what it meant—a knife without emotion, without weakness, and that never misses its mark.

Whoever is targeted by the night owl is essentially dead.

---

September 17th, Luoyang.

Ajiu sat in a room on the second floor of an inconspicuous inn in the east of the city, with a dossier spread out in front of her.

This is her 24th silver medal mission.

Target: Zhou Mingyuan, 54 years old, Vice Minister of Revenue, in charge of the national treasury's revenue and expenditure, embezzled hundreds of thousands of taels of silver, and secretly befriended the Second Prince Xiao Jingyan, intending to cultivate power in the court.

Remuneration: 50,000 taels of silver.

The Dark Secretariat rarely accepts assassination missions for court officials, not because they dare not, but because the cost is too high. Killing a high-ranking official would trigger an investigation and a manhunt by the court, causing unnecessary trouble for the Dark Secretariat. However, if the reward is high enough, the Dark Secretariat doesn't care about any trouble.

Fifty thousand taels is worth it.

Ajiu read through the file from beginning to end, then closed her eyes and began to visualize Zhou Mingyuan in her mind—54 years old, of medium build, slightly overweight, with an old injury on his left leg, and walking with a slight limp.

He would rise at dawn every day, practice a set of health-preserving boxing techniques in the garden of his mansion, leave for court at dawn, and return to his mansion at dusk. He had thirty-six guards in his mansion, six of whom were veterans he had brought back from the northern border, and they were quite skilled.

The mansion was located in Chongrenfang, east of Luoyang. It was a three-courtyard complex with a back gate next to a dead-end alley and a front gate facing the main street. There were high walls on both sides, and the tops of the walls were covered with broken porcelain shards.

Ajiu opened her eyes.

She had already identified three places to infiltrate, two opportunities to make her move, and four escape routes in her mind.

All that's left is to wait.

Wait until it gets dark, wait for Zhou Mingyuan to return home, wait for him to lower his guard.

---

At 3:45 PM, Chongrenfang.

Zhou Mingyuan's sedan chair returned from the direction of the imperial city and stopped in front of the mansion gate. He climbed out of the sedan chair, took the hand warmer handed to him by the steward, rubbed his hands together, and stepped into the mansion gate.

It was already chilly in Luoyang in late autumn. The wind blew in from the alleyway, making the two lanterns at the gate of the mansion sway back and forth.

The guards filed in, the gates closed behind them, and the bolts fell with a dull thud.

Ah Jiu squatted on the rooftop across the street, staring at the closed door, without moving.

She had no intention of making a move tonight.

It wasn't that she couldn't find an opportunity, but rather that she needed more time to confirm one thing—whether any of Zhou Mingyuan's guards were experts at the level of internal strength or above.

The silver-ranked assassin had limited sensory abilities; she could only assess a target's martial arts level when they were in close proximity. From a street away, she sensed nothing.

So she needs to test the waters.

Tomorrow morning, Zhou Mingyuan will be practicing boxing in the garden of his residence. That's when he's most relaxed, and also when his guards are least vigilant. She can take advantage of that opportunity to approach, quickly assess the guards' strength, and then decide whether to attack on the spot or wait for another chance.

Ah Jiu slid down from the rooftop, landing silently in the alley, then turned and disappeared into the night.

---

The next day, at dawn.

Before dawn, Chongrenfang was shrouded in a thin layer of morning mist. In the Zhou family garden, Zhou Mingyuan, dressed in a loose silk training suit, was slowly practicing a set of health-preserving boxing.

His movements were slow, as slow as rowing a boat on water, each move precise and methodical, suggesting he had practiced for many years. But Ajiu could tell that this set of punches only had form, lacking power—Zhou Mingyuan knew martial arts, but his level was not high, at most the early stage of Ming Jin.

His guards were positioned around the garden. There were six men, three in the open and three in the shadows. The three in the open stood at the garden entrance and the two side gates, while the three in the shadows hid behind the artificial hills and bushes.

Ah Jiu hid in a large locust tree on the outer wall of the garden, observing the guards through the gaps in the branches and leaves.

Her gaze moved from one person to another, observing their posture, breathing, eyes, and the position of their hands.

The three in the open stood loosely, breathing heavily, with unfocused eyes, their hands on the hilts of their knives but not gripping them tightly—they were not experts.

The three hiding in the shadows had chosen good positions, but their breathing was too rapid, and they would move every now and then, giving away their presence. One of them had particularly long, deep breaths and a slow heartbeat, and his hand remained on the hilt of his knife at his waist, not relaxing even when he was hiding.

This person is a master.

At least at the mid-stage of Dark Strength.

Ah Jiu memorized the person's location and characteristics, then silently slid down from the locust tree and left Chongrenfang.

She needs to readjust her plans.

With a mid-stage Inner Strength expert present, she couldn't make a move during the day. It wasn't that she couldn't defeat him, but rather that the commotion would be too great.

A master of internal energy possesses perception far exceeding that of ordinary people; she will be detected as soon as she gets close enough. Once detected, a prolonged fight will ensue, attracting more guards and more people, leading to mission failure.

The first rule of the Dark Pavilion's missions is: mission failure equals death.

It wasn't the target who died, it was the killer.

Ajiu returned to the inn, reopened the file, and wrote down a new plan in the blank space.

She needs Zhou Mingyuan to leave the mansion.

Only outside, in crowded places, would that master of internal energy lower her guard. Only outside could she possibly carry out the assassination without alerting anyone.

The file states that Zhou Mingyuan will go to Fayuan Temple outside the city to offer incense three days later.

That was her best chance.

---

Three days later, at Fayuan Temple.

Fayuan Temple is located on Phoenix Mountain, ten miles south of Luoyang City. It is an ancient temple with a thriving incense offering tradition, attracting a large number of believers to offer incense every autumn.

Zhou Mingyuan's wife is a Buddhist and comes to Fayuan Temple to burn incense every month. Zhou Mingyuan occasionally accompanies her, but not often.

Ajiu learned from the intelligence from the Dark Pavilion that Zhou Mingyuan would not only accompany his wife to offer incense this time, but would also meet with someone in the temple.

The case file doesn't say who that person is, and the secret police haven't been able to find out either.

But Ajiu didn't care. All she needed to know was that Zhou Mingyuan would be at Fayuan Temple.

Phoenix Mountain is not very high, but the mountain road is rugged, and it takes almost half an hour to walk from the foot of the mountain to the temple gate.

Zhou Mingyuan rode in a sedan chair, while his wife rode in another sedan chair. They were accompanied by twenty guards, including the expert at the mid-stage of internal strength.

Ajiu went up the mountain a day early.

She hid in a pine forest behind Fayuan Temple, from where you could see the temple's back gate and one side of the wall.

Her plan was simple—after Zhou Mingyuan entered the temple, she would climb over the back wall, avoid the guards' sight, and lie in ambush outside the room where Zhou Mingyuan was meeting with that person. She would make her move the moment the meeting ended and the guards relaxed their guards.

A simple plan means fewer variables, and fewer variables mean a higher success rate.

This is the experience Ah Jiu has summarized over the past year and a half—the more complex the plan, the more likely it is to go wrong. The best way to kill is the simplest way.

Find the target, approach the target, kill the target, and leave.

Four steps, each requiring no extra movements.

---

At 9:00 AM, Zhou Mingyuan's sedan chair stopped in front of Fayuan Temple.

He alighted from the sedan chair, straightened his clothes, and walked into the temple gate with his wife.

The guard, a mid-stage internal strength practitioner, followed three steps behind him, his hand always on the hilt of his sword, his gaze constantly scanning the surrounding worshippers and monks.

Ah Jiu witnessed this scene from the pine forest and noted the guard's position and gait.

She is waiting.

I waited for about an hour.

Just past noon, Zhou Mingyuan emerged from the temple, his expression much more somber than when he entered, his brow furrowed, his steps hurried. His wife did not come out with him; she remained inside, presumably to continue offering incense.

The guards followed behind him, in the same position, at the same distance, with the same vigilance.

Ah Jiu's chance has come.

Zhou Mingyuan did not ride in a sedan chair, but walked down the mountain. He walked very fast, as if he was in a hurry, and the guards had to quicken their pace to keep up with him.

The mountain road is narrow, with dense bushes on both sides, obstructing the view and scattering the sound with the wind.

Ajiu emerged from the pine forest and moved along the ridgeline parallel to the mountain path, always maintaining a distance of about thirty zhang from Zhou Mingyuan.

She was looking for that location.

That spot on the narrowest mountain path, with the densest bushes, and no other pedestrians in front or behind.

found it.

It was a mountain path about twenty zhang long, with a steep slope on the left and a dense thicket of bushes on the right.

The path was less than five feet wide, allowing only two people to pass side by side. Zhou Mingyuan walked in front, with the guard following behind, about four steps apart.

Ajiu silently slid out of the bushes and appeared behind Zhou Mingyuan.

She did not use a knife.

It was too open here; using a knife would leave bloodstains, and bloodstains would attract pursuers. She used another method—a thin wire, as thin as a hair, with two small wooden handles tied to both ends, which she made herself.

The wire was wrapped around Zhou Mingyuan's neck, crossed, and tightened.

Zhou Mingyuan's eyes widened suddenly, and he opened his mouth to shout, but his throat was constricted by the wire, and he couldn't make a sound. He flailed his hands wildly in the air, grabbed the wire, and tried to pull it away, but the wire was already embedded in his flesh, and his fingers couldn't exert any force at all.

Hearing the strange noise behind him, the guard turned around abruptly.

What he saw was Zhou Mingyuan's body slowly falling down, and a black shadow disappearing into the bushes.

"There's an assassin—"

The guard drew his sword and chased after the dark figure. He hadn't gone more than ten paces when he lost sight of it. The bushes were too dense; the shadow moved like a snake through the branches and leaves, silent and unseen.

When he turned back, Zhou Mingyuan was already dead.

A deep, bone-revealing ligature mark ran down his neck; his face was bluish-purple; his tongue was sticking out long—his death was extremely gruesome.

The guard knelt down, examined Zhou Mingyuan's wounds, and his expression turned grim.

iron wire.

Using wire to kill is a clean, efficient, and traceless method used by professional assassins.

He looked up at the path disappearing into the bushes and murmured a name: "Night Owl."

---

Ajiu has already come down the mountain.

As she walked back to Cangwu Mountain, she fiddled with the wire in her hand, rolled it up again, and put it into a small leather pouch at her waist.

There was blood on the wire. She wiped the blood off with her thumb and then wiped her fingers on the grass by the roadside.

Twenty-three missions, plus this one, making it twenty-four.

Not a single mistake was made.

In the martial arts world, she is known as "The Night Owl Who Kills," while in the secret society, she is called "The Merciless Blade."

Some say she is a heartless killing machine, some say she is a demon crawled out of hell, and some say she is not a living person at all, but a demonic sword held in the hands of the Dark Pavilion.

Ah Jiu didn't care.

She didn't care what others thought of her, how the Dark Pavilion used her, or whether her targets begged for mercy or cursed her before they died.

She only cares about one thing—becoming stronger.

Every mission is a practical training exercise. Every kill is a refinement of her martial arts skills. She can feel her progress in real combat—her movements are faster, her swordsmanship is more accurate, her internal strength is deeper, and her intuition for danger is more acute.

She is getting closer and closer to that goal.

The Dark Pavilion.

She had not forgotten the old drunkard's grudge, nor the debt that the Dark Pavilion owed her.

It's just that the time hasn't come yet.

She's not strong enough yet.

Hades' martial arts skills are unfathomable, and each of the Dark Pavilion's top assassins is a master of deception. She, a silver-ranked assassin at the early stage of Dark Force, is no match for him at all.

She needs time.

We need more tasks, more practical experience, and more accumulation of knowledge.

When that day comes, she will stand in the headquarters of the Dark Pavilion and use the knife in her hand to collect the debts owed to her, one by one.

Ajiu looked up at the setting sun gradually sinking in the sky and quickened her pace.

Owls don't need to rest.

The owl only needs its prey.

She was both the hunter and the prey.

They hunt others, and are also hunted by the Dark Pavilion.

This merciless knife will one day sever the hand that holds it.

That day is not far away.