Nine Nights Owl Song

On the seventh day that Su Jiuge was recuperating at the Marquis's residence, it snowed that night.

The first snow in Luoyang came early, falling gently in early November. First, fine snowflakes pattered against the window paper, making a soft rustling sound, like countless silkworms nibbling on mulberry leaves.

Later, the snow fell heavier and heavier, and goose-feather-like snowflakes fell silently from the gray sky, covering the entire city.

Su Jiuge lay in bed, listening to the sound of falling snow, unable to fall asleep.

The wound on her left shoulder throbbed faintly in the cold weather; the pain was a dull, aching ache, as if someone were repeatedly piercing her shoulder blade with a blunt needle.

She closed her eyes, her breathing was long and shallow, and she remained motionless, like a lifeless shell.

She was thinking.

Thinking about the martial arts style of the three top assassins of the Blood Hall, thinking about how if Blood Blade's horse-slaying saber had cut an inch deeper, her left arm would have been ruined, thinking about how if Poison Scorpion's claws had been a fraction faster, her wound would not have been just a superficial injury.

She was reviewing the battle, going over every move in her mind again and again, like a craftsman repeatedly sharpening a knife, finding every area that could be improved, noting it down, and using it next time.

She killed two of the three late-stage Transformation Realm experts and let one escape. The result wasn't bad, but she wasn't satisfied.

She could have killed three people if her internal energy had been stronger, if her movements had been faster, and if her blade had been sharper.

So she needs to train, she needs to become stronger, and she needs to kill more people.

The drum was struck three times.

It's past midnight.

Su Jiuge's ears suddenly twitched.

The night at the Marquis's residence was very quiet, so quiet that you could hear the faint sound of snow falling to the ground.

But among those subtle sounds, she caught a sound that shouldn't have been there—footsteps.

Extremely faint but undeniably present footsteps.

It came from the rooftop, touching and then disappearing in an instant, like a cat on the night—no, lighter and more stable than a cat, and better at hiding itself in the dark.

Su Jiuge silently reached her hand under the pillow.

There was a short knife there, which she had Su Chengzhi bring back from the Ministry of War's armory. It wasn't her usual straight knife—the straight knife was placed by the bedside, too far away for her to reach in time.

The short knife is only seven inches long, with a narrow and thin blade, making it suitable for close combat and also for hiding under a pillow.

The footsteps grew closer.

From the roof to the eaves, and from the eaves to the windows.

Su Jiuge gripped the short knife tightly, her breathing, heartbeat, and body temperature remaining unchanged.

She is waiting.

The moment that person breaks through the window, the instant he focuses on how to get in, the moment he reveals a weakness. Ten steps, five steps, three steps.

The window was not broken.

The door was gently pushed open.

Su Jiuge was stunned for a moment.

The door was bolted; she bolted it herself and checked it before going to bed.

The latch was opened without a sound, as if someone had used an extremely thin and tough blade to pry it open from the outside, bit by bit, with such precision that it didn't even touch the door frame or make a sound.

Su Jiuge had seen this method before.

The door opened, and a figure slipped in, silently closing the door behind them, standing there in the darkness.

Moonlight streamed through the window paper, outlining his silhouette as a long, slender shadow.

He was dressed in a dark night-clothes, but a section of a moon-white undergarment was visible through the collar of the night-clothes. A dark ribbon was tied around his waist, and his hair was not tied up, but was draped over his shoulders. He did not look like a night-walking assassin, but more like a young master who got up in the middle of the night to stroll in the garden and went out after casually putting on a coat.

The sixth prince, Xiao Yan.

Su Jiuge loosened her grip on the dagger.

She lay in bed, looked at Xiao Yan, and asked:

"How did you get in?"

Xiao Yan walked to the bedside, sat down in the chair that Su Chengzhi often sat in, crossed his legs, placed his hands on his knees, and answered in a casual tone:

"Go through the door."

Su Jiuge looked at him without saying a word.

Xiao Yan smiled and took something out of his pocket—a thin wire as thin as a hair—and waved it in front of her.

"Made by the locksmiths of Qianji Tower, there is no door in the world that this wire cannot open."

Su Jiuge's room is at the very back. You have to walk through the main hall, through the flower hall, around the screen, and through three doors.

He opened each door silently.

None of the guards in the Marquis's mansion noticed him, none of the night patrol servants saw him, and not even the hunting dogs that Su Zhentian kept barked.

The master of the Thousand Machines Pavilion is indeed not a weak prince who only sits in his study reading intelligence.

"How is your injury?" Xiao Yan asked her.

"He won't die."

Xiao Yan nodded, his gaze falling on his left shoulder, which was wrapped in bandages.

"Of the three top assassins from the Blood Hall, you killed two and one escaped. Blood Blade, late-stage Transformation Realm expert, wielded a 37-pound horse-slaying saber. Poison Scorpion, late-stage Transformation Realm expert, had fingernails coated with seven kinds of mixed poisons. Ghost Shadow, late-stage Transformation Realm expert, possessed lightness skills among the top ten in the world. You, a mid-stage Transformation Realm expert, killed two of them."

Su Jiuge remained silent.

"According to the intelligence from the Thousand Machine Tower, you are the first case in the Great Liang Dynasty in the last twenty years where someone with a lower cultivation level killed an assassin with a higher cultivation level."

Xiao Yan's voice remained unchanged, still that nonchalant tone, but his eyes, those perpetually sleepy eyes—were now open, holding a light unlike any other.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Su Jiuge asked.

"I wanted to say..."

Xiao Yan leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

"You're quite an interesting person."

Su Jiuge didn't know how to respond to that sentence.

Xiao Yan took out an oil paper package from his bosom, opened it, and inside was a package of still warm roasted chestnuts.

"It's from Old Zhang's family in Luojing East City, fresh out of the pot, eat it while it's hot."

He placed the chestnuts on the small table beside the bed, then took out a gourd, uncorked it, took a sip, and handed it to Su Jiuge.

"Want a sip? The strong liquor from the North can ward off the cold."

"I'm injured, I can't drink alcohol," Su Jiuge said.

"Yes, that's what the doctor said."

Xiao Yan put away the wine gourd and took another swig.

"But when have you ever listened to a doctor?"

Su Jiuge remained silent.

She was completely stumped by Xiao Yan's words.

She never took the doctor's words seriously—on the third day of recuperating at home, she secretly practiced internal energy cultivation, almost causing her newly healed wound to burst open.

When Su Chengzhi found out, his face was as black as the bottom of a pot. He scolded her by the bedside for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, but she didn't listen to a word he said.

Su Jiuge reached out, took a chestnut from the oil paper package, peeled it, and ate it.

The chestnuts are sweet and soft, and have the fragrance of osmanthus.

Old Zhang's roasted chestnuts were indeed delicious. She had smelled them when she passed by the East Market when she lived in her small courtyard in the north of the city, but she had never bought any. She couldn't bear to spend those few coins.

"Qianji Tower has found new information."

After eating a few chestnuts, Xiao Yan got down to business.

"The Zhou family has offered a reward of 100,000 taels of silver for your head. The money was transferred in three installments from the Zhou family's three silk shops in Luoyang. The person in charge was Zhou Wenyuan's confidant, an accountant named Sun Maocai. Zhou Wenyuan is a very cautious person; all the accounts pass through Sun Maocai's hands, and he never handles them directly himself. If you want to bring down Zhou Wenyuan, you must first take down Sun Maocai."

Su Jiuge peeled another chestnut.

"And..." Xiao Yan continued.

"There's one more thing," Xiao Yan's tone suddenly changed.

"At yesterday's court assembly, the Second Prince Xiao Jingyan publicly impeached Marquis Dingyuan Su Zhentian for 'lax household management and allowing his daughter to commit murder,' saying that he allowed assassins of unknown origin to come and go in his mansion, which disgraced the dignity of an official of the court. The impeachment memorial has been submitted, but the emperor has kept it under wraps and has not yet issued it. However, the Second Prince's people have already begun to build momentum in the court."

Su Jiuge paused for a moment while peeling chestnuts.

The phrase "lax household management leads to the daughter's violent acts" does not refer to her killing the Blood Hall assassin.

The imperial court was unaware of the Blood Hall's affairs. What they did know was that the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Dingyuan, who had been missing for sixteen years, had suddenly returned. This eldest daughter was an assassin who had killed many people.

The truth will eventually come out; her identity will be revealed to everyone sooner or later.

When the news gets out, the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence will become a target in the imperial court.

Her enemies will use her to attack Su Zhentian, the Marquis of Dingyuan's mansion, and everyone connected to her.

"What do you think?" Xiao Yan asked.

"The Second Prince's intention to target the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence is not because of me."

Su Jiuge placed the chestnut shells on the table.

"The Marquis of Dingyuan's mansion holds military power, and the Second Prince has always wanted to win over Su Zhentian. Su Zhentian doesn't take sides and doesn't give the Second Prince any face, so the Second Prince has wanted to get rid of him for a long time. My appearance just gave him an excuse."

Xiao Yan looked at her without saying a word.

"As for my identity..."

Su Jiuge raised her head and looked at Xiao Yan.

"It will have to be made public sooner or later. The more it is, the better. Once it's public, I will be the rightful eldest daughter of the Marquis of Dingyuan's family. Anyone who tries to harm me is harming the Marquis of Dingyuan's family. And anyone who tries to harm the Marquis of Dingyuan's family will be dealt with by me."

Xiao Yan remained silent for a moment, then picked up a chestnut and slowly peeled it.

His chestnut-peeling technique was clumsy; it took him a long time to peel a whole chestnut, with the skin still stuck to the flesh. He didn't mind and just ate it.

Sometimes you seem like a normal person. Other times you're not. I can't tell which one is the real you.

Outside the window, the snow is still falling.

Xiao Yan sat there and suddenly said something completely unrelated:

Your birthday is coming up soon, isn't it?

Su Jiuge didn't know why he suddenly asked her that, but she still hummed in response.

"The ninth day of the twelfth lunar month marks the beginning of the first year of Yong'an. There is still one month left."

Xiao Yan took out another chestnut and began to peel it.

"The Marquis's residence should hold a coming-of-age ceremony for you."

Su Jiuge did not answer.

"For the coming-of-age ceremony, one must wear formal attire, have one's hair styled in a bun, and wear a hairpin." Xiao Yan was still clumsily peeling chestnuts.

Have you ever worn a skirt?

Su Jiuge remained silent.

She wasn't wearing a skirt.

I've never worn this before, not even as a child.

In the abandoned residential area, he wore tattered clothes picked up from the garbage dump; in the Dark Pavilion, he wore uniform black short khakis; and after becoming a top assassin, he wore night clothes and tight-fitting outfits.

She walked through coarse cloth, through linen, through cotton, through silk—but she did not wear a skirt.

"No," Su Jiuge said.

Xiao Yan ate the pitted chestnut, patted the crumbs off his hands, and stood up.

"On the day of your coming-of-age ceremony, I'll have someone send you a dress."

"unnecessary."

Whether you wear it or not is your business; whether I give it to you or not is my business.

Upon hearing this, Su Jiuge was speechless.

Xiao Yan walked to the door and opened it.

Outside, heavy snow was falling in, and the cold wind, carrying snowflakes, rushed into the room, almost extinguishing the oil lamp on the table.

He stood at the doorway, turned around, and the moonlight and snowlight shone on his face at the same time, making his features exceptionally clear—sword-like eyebrows, bright eyes, handsome face, and a half-smile on the corner of his mouth.

His eyes shone brightly in the moonlight, as if they held some unspeakable secret.

"Night Owl," he called her by her codename, his voice very soft.

"You're a really interesting person."

he's gone.

The door closed behind him, and his footsteps disappeared into the wind and snow.

Su Jiuge sat alone on the edge of the bed, still holding the unfinished chestnut in her hand, watching the swirling snow shadows reflected on the window paper, remaining motionless for a long time.

She reached out, took the bag of roasted chestnuts, and peeled and ate them one by one.

The chestnuts were still warm, sweet and soft, with the fragrance of osmanthus.

After eating the last chestnut, she licked her fingers, wrapped the chestnut shell up, and put it in the drawer by her bedside.

I'll throw it away tomorrow; she doesn't want to move today.

Su Jiuge lay down, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and looked at the lotus pattern embroidered on the curtains.

Coming-of-age ceremony. Formal dress. Hair bun. Hairpin. Skirt.

These words swirled in her mind like a swarm of moths that couldn't find their way, hovering around the nearly burnt-out oil lamp, rushing back and forth, unable to find a way out.

She closed her eyes, rolled over, and pressed her left shoulder onto the bed, causing her to gasp in pain. She then rolled back over.

Coming-of-age ceremony.

Her birthday.

She never celebrates her birthday.

The old drunkard is nothing, the Dark Pavilion is nothing, and she alone is nothing either.

For her, her birthday was just an ordinary day, without any special meaning.

But now someone wants to hold a coming-of-age ceremony for her.

Ms. Shen said that for the past sixteen years, she has made her a new set of clothes every year and put them in the wardrobe, waiting for her to come back and wear them.

There are sixteen sets of clothes in the wardrobe, from infancy to sixteen years old. Each set was made by Shen herself, and each set is neatly folded and stored in the best camphor wood chest. Every summer, they are taken out to air and put back in the autumn. This has been done without interruption for sixteen years.

Su Jiuge was unaware of these things.

If she knew, she wouldn't know how she would feel.

She simply lay there with her eyes open in the darkness, listening to the sound of snow falling outside the window.

"interesting."

She softly repeated Xiao Yan's words, her tone flat and straightforward, without any questions or exclamations, simply repeating them.

The snow outside the window fell heavier and heavier, covering the city of Luoyang with a soft white layer.

Su Jiuge closed her eyes.

There's still a lot to do tomorrow: bring down the Zhou family, eliminate Zhou Wenyuan, investigate Zhao Wenchang, recover from injuries, practice martial arts, and kill.

She can't sleep in.

But she allowed herself to lie down a little longer tonight, just a little while. Because she had finished the osmanthus cake and the roasted chestnuts, her stomach was full and warm, and she didn't want to move.

Su Jiuge turned over. Her left shoulder still hurt, but the soreness seeping from the bone was much less than during the day.

I don't know if it was the medicine that worked or the warmth from the chestnuts.

Moonlight streamed through the window paper, casting a hazy white glow on the curtains.

She stared at the white mass, staring and staring, until her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

On the verge of losing consciousness, she suddenly remembered something—Xiao Yan had come all night, said so much, and peeled so many chestnuts, but from beginning to end, he hadn't asked a single question about the Blood Hall assassins.

I didn't ask you how you won, I didn't ask how badly you were hurt, and I didn't ask what you planned to do next.

He just came, sat for a while, peeled a bag of chestnuts, said "You're an interesting person," and then left.

Su Jiuge thought that she couldn't figure this person out.