Nine Nights Owl Song

On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month in the seventeenth year of Yong'an, in Luoyang.

Su Jiuge returned to Luojing in the evening.

The setting sun burned a dark red across the western horizon, gilding the entire city's silhouette with a blood-red hue.

She stood outside the south gate, looking at the familiar gate, at the pedestrians coming and going, and at the wall eroded by time with countless gaps. Suddenly, she felt that this gate was different from the one she had left for the first time.

It's not the door that's changed, it's her.

When she left, she was alone, with only a knife and a heart devoid of anything but hatred.

When she returned, a carriage followed behind her, inside which sat an old drunkard, and on the carriage shaft sat a ghostly hand. Her heart was filled with many things she didn't know what to call them.

The carriage was hired by Ghost Hand in Liangzhou. It was the best carriage he could find, with three layers of thick cotton quilts laid out to prevent the old drunkard from getting too bumpy on the road.

The old drunkard initially refused to sit, but after being glared at by Su Jiuge, he obediently got into the car.

Throughout the journey, he kept lifting the carriage curtain to look out, looking at the mountains, the water, the trees, and the villages and towns he passed by.

The outside world was both familiar and strange to him.

They entered the south gate of Luojing City on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month. The soldiers at the city gate stopped the carriage for inspection. Su Jiuge took out a waist token from her waist - a guest token of Qianji Tower, which Bai Yu gave her, saying that it was "useful in Luojing City".

The soldier glanced at the token, his expression changed, and he respectfully stepped back, waving to let them pass.

The carriage entered the city and traveled along South Gate Street. The shops on both sides were decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, selling New Year pictures, firecrackers, candied melons, and New Year cakes, with shouts rising and falling.

With the Lunar New Year approaching, a busy yet joyful atmosphere permeates Luoyang.

The old drunkard lifted the carriage curtain, looking at everything outside, something flickering in his cloudy eyes.

For thirty years, he hadn't walked the streets of Luoyang during the Lunar New Year.

He hid in this city for thirty years, hiding in the darkest corners, drinking the cheapest wine, and living the most inhuman life.

He was now sitting in the finest carriage, which was covered with thick cotton quilts. He was wearing a new cotton robe—a dark blue one that Su Jiuge had bought for him in Liangzhou. The material wasn't particularly expensive, but it was warm.

He reached out and touched the cuff of the cotton robe, then withdrew his hand.

The carriage stopped in front of the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence.

Su Jiuge jumped off her horse and stood in front of the Marquis's mansion, looking at the two doors she had once knocked on.

The brass rings on the door are still the same pair, and the plaque above the door is still the same plaque.

But now she stands here, no longer the Night Owl who came to collect debts. She is Su Jiuge, the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Dingyuan, who was lost for sixteen years and then found again. She has returned home.

Ghost Hand jumped down from the carriage shaft and stood behind her.

Today he changed into a clean gray cloth robe, his hair was neatly combed, and his beard was shaved. He looked several years younger than when he was in Liangzhou.

He carried a small bundle containing all his belongings—a few changes of clothes, a short knife, and silver notes he had saved up over the years from killing people.

He stood at the entrance of the Marquis's residence, looking up at the plaque that read "Dingyuan Marquis's Residence." His face remained expressionless, but his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"Are you nervous?" Su Jiuge asked him.

"No," Ghost Hand said.

His voice betrayed him; it was a half-tone higher than usual.

Su Jiuge did not expose him.

She walked to the carriage, lifted the curtain, and saw the old drunkard leaning against the carriage, his eyes closed, his lips trembling slightly.

He clenched his fist and placed it on his knee, his knuckles turning white.

Su Jiuge didn't urge him; she just stood outside the car and waited.

After a long time, the old drunkard opened his eyes.

"Girl, if I come to your manor looking like this, won't I embarrass you?"

Su Jiuge looked at him.

His hair was gray, his face was full of wrinkles, his back was hunched, his body was thin, and he always carried a gourd with him.

She never felt ashamed of him because of his appearance.

I didn't have it when I was three, I didn't have it when I was seven, and I still don't have it now.

"You are my life."

Su Jiuge said,

"Whoever thinks you're shameful, I'll make sure they never lose face again."

The old drunkard's eyes reddened.

He lowered his head, vigorously wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then looked up and smiled.

"Let's go inside."

Su Jiuge reached out to help him out of the car.

The old drunkard put his hand on her shoulder.

The gates of the Marquis's residence opened.

Uncle Fu stood at the door, still holding the broom. The moment he saw Su Jiuge, the broom fell to the ground, his eyes widened, and his lips trembled for a long time before he finally managed to squeeze out a complete sentence:

"Auntie...the young lady is back! The young lady is back!"

His voice boomed over the Marquis's residence like a signal flare.

Soon, the entire Marquis's residence was mobilized.

The maids ran out from the various courtyards, the old women put down their work, and the managers peeked out from the accounting room.

Su Chengen was the first to arrive. He was wearing a moon-white house robe, his hair held up with only a hairpin. He looked like he was reading in his study when he heard the noise and rushed out. He walked much faster than usual, almost running, and stopped in front of Su Jiuge, panting. He looked at her and smiled.

"Jiuge, you're back. Earlier than expected."

Su Jiuge nodded.

"I'm back now that I've finished my business."

Su Chengzhi was the second to arrive.

He had just returned from the Ministry of War; he hadn't changed out of his official robes, and the sword at his waist was still on. He walked in with long strides, each step carrying a gust of wind. He stopped in front of Su Jiuge and looked her up and down.

His gaze lingered on her left shoulder—where there was no longer any sign of injury. Then he reached out and gently patted her shoulder.

"It's good that you're back."

He couldn't finish those four words; his Adam's apple bobbed twice, and he turned and left.

He took two steps and then came back, stood to the side, and stopped moving. He stood there like a gun stuck in the ground.

Su Chengxun was the last to arrive. He had heard the news and ran all the way over, his face flushed red. He was clutching a roll of paper in his hand. When he saw Su Jiuge, his face turned even redder, red to the roots of his ears.

"Nine... Sister Jiuge!"

He shouted, his voice twice as loud as usual.

When Shen arrived, everyone made way for her.

She wore a deep purple jacket, her hair was neatly combed, she wore a set of white jade headdresses, and she had applied light makeup.

She walked from the direction of the main hall, her steps quick, almost running, but she suddenly stopped when she reached Su Jiuge.

Shen stood there, looking at Su Jiuge, tears silently streaming down her face.

She reached out, wanting to touch Su Jiuge's face, but her hand trembled in mid-air for a long time before finally landing gently on her shoulder.

"You're back." Shen's voice was hoarse but gentle.

"I'm back," Su Jiuge said.

Shen's tears flowed even more fiercely. Her shoulders were shaking violently, her lips were trembling incessantly, and she wanted to speak but could not utter a sound.

Su Jiuge looked at the tears on Shen's face, at her slightly trembling shoulders, at her bloodshot, teary eyes, and suddenly felt something surging in her chest.

It wasn't ice cracking, it was melting. The ice and snow melted into water, the water formed streams, and the streams rushed forward, trying to break through the dam she had built over sixteen years.

She didn't let it rush out.

She simply reached into her bosom, took out a handkerchief, and handed it to Madam Shen.

The lotus-root-colored handkerchief was a new one she had bought, with an orchid embroidered on the corner, exactly the same as the one Shen had embroidered for her.

Madam Shen took the handkerchief, clutched it tightly in her hand, and placed it against her chest.

Su Zhentian stood in the shadows of the veranda, not coming over.

He stood with his hands behind his back, watching everything unfold. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were red.

He stood there, watching from afar, like an old tree watching birds return to their nests and land on its branches, unmoved, yet beneath that unmoved expression lay emotions he didn't know how to express.

Su Jiuge did not forget the people she brought back.

She turned around, walked to the carriage, and helped the old drunkard.

Only then did the people of the Marquis's residence notice the old man—his hair was white, his back was hunched, and his face was full of wrinkles.

His legs were a little weak when he got out of the car, and he had to hold onto Su Jiuge's shoulder to steady himself.

Su Chengen and Su Chengzhi exchanged a glance; neither of them recognized the old man.

Su Chengxun peeked half his head out from behind a pillar, looking on curiously.

When Shen saw Su Jiuge's gestures as she helped the old man, and saw that this was the first time someone who never helped anyone was so carefully supporting someone, she knew that this person was very important.

Su Jiuge helped the old drunkard up the steps and stood in front of everyone from the Marquis's residence.

"His name is Yin Wuji."

Su Jiuge's voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the front courtyard of the Marquis's mansion could hear it clearly.

"It was him who found me in the snow at the mass grave. He raised me for seven years, taught me to read and write, taught me martial arts, and gave me the name A-Jiu. Without him, I would have died sixteen years ago."

The front yard was eerily quiet. Shen covered her mouth with her handkerchief, and her tears flowed even more freely.

Su Jiuge looked at Madam Shen, Su Zhentian, Su Chengen, Su Chengzhi, Su Chengxun, Uncle Fu, and the servants she didn't know but would get to know in the future.

"He is my family. From today onwards, he will live in the Marquis's residence. His food, clothing, and daily necessities will come from my ration. The Marquis's residence will support him for as long as he lives. Anyone who has objections, speak now."

No one speaks.

Su Chengen was the first to step forward and bow deeply to the old drunkard. Su Chengzhi was the second, bowing even deeper than Su Chengen. Su Chengxun emerged from behind a pillar, his face flushed, and bowed once more.

Shen stepped forward, without bowing, and reached out to grasp the old drunkard's hand.

That withered, scarred hand, the hand that picked up her daughter from the snow sixteen years ago.

"Mr. Yin."

Shen's voice was hoarse but clear.

"Thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter. Thank you for raising her. Thank you for letting her come back to me alive. The Marquis of Dingyuan will remember your kindness for a lifetime."

The old drunkard stared at Shen for a long time.

His lips were trembling, his eyes were red as if on fire, and a suppressed sound, like a sob or a cough, came from his throat.

"lady."

His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

"I raised her for seven years, and you waited for her for sixteen. I can't compare to you. Now that the girl has a family, I can rest easy."

The old drunkard released Shen's hand, turned around, raised his head, and looked at Su Zhentian.

The two elderly people looked at each other across the front yard, one standing on the steps and the other in the shadow of the veranda.

Su Zhentian emerged from the shadows of the veranda, walked up to the old drunkard, clasped his hands in a fist salute, bowed deeply.

"Mr. Yin, please accept my bow."

The old drunkard quickly reached out to help Su Zhentian up, but Su Zhentian didn't get up.

"This bow is to thank Mr. Yin for saving my life."

His voice was deep and hoarse.

"You saved my daughter's life, which means you saved the life of the Marquis of Dingyuan's household. From today onwards, you are an honored guest of the Marquis of Dingyuan's household. Your food, clothing, and daily necessities will not come from Jiuge's allowance, but from mine. As long as you live, the Marquis's household will support you."

The old drunkard's hand froze in mid-air, his lips moved a few times as if he wanted to say something, but his throat felt like it was blocked by something.

As Su Jiuge watched this scene, something surged within her.

She didn't speak, laugh, or cry.

She simply stood there, watching the old drunkard being surrounded by people as he entered the Marquis's residence, watching Madam Shen wipe away her tears while instructing the servants to prepare the best guest room, and watching Su Chengen personally arrange the old drunkard's food and lodging.

She stood at the main gate of the Marquis's residence, but did not go in. It was almost dark.

"Not going in?"

The voice of the ghost hand came from behind.

He was still standing at the door, carrying that small bundle on his back, watching the bustling yet warm scene inside the Marquis's mansion. His face was expressionless, but the light in his eyes was different.

"Enter."

Su Jiuge said. She stepped across the threshold.

Behind him, the gates of the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence slowly closed.

The sound of the latch falling was dull and long, like a sigh, or a promise.

It was the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month in the seventeenth year of Yong'an, at night.

Su Jiuge, dressed in a light purple house robe, sat in front of the bronze mirror in Shen's room.

Shen stood behind her, holding a comb in her hand, and combed her hair gently, stroke by stroke.

Tomorrow is her coming-of-age ceremony, and Madam Shen wants to try out her hairstyle in advance.

Those hairstyles she had never seen before in her life, Shen's fingers moved through her hair very lightly and slowly, as if performing a sacred ritual.

"Nine Songs".

Shen's voice was very soft as she looked at her in the mirror.

"You'll be sixteen tomorrow. After your coming-of-age ceremony, you'll be an adult. Do you have any wishes?"

Su Jiuge looked at herself in the bronze mirror, and then at Shen Shi's red and swollen eyes, which were brighter than ever before.

"Yes," she said.

"Tomorrow I want to eat three plates of osmanthus cake. I'll eat one, give one to the old drunkard, and save one for the day after tomorrow."

Shen was taken aback for a moment, then smiled.

She laughed until her eyes curved into crescent moons, and tears streamed down her face, but she didn't wipe them away.

"Okay, three dishes. Mom will make you three dishes."

She continued combing her hair, very slowly, as if she were combing it for a lifetime.

The sound of the night watchman's gong came from outside the window; it was past midnight, and the night was deep.

One by one, the lights in the Marquis of Dingyuan's mansion went out, except for the kitchen light, which remained on.

Shen was kneading dough in front of the stove, while her maid Chunyue was tending the fire. The firelight from the stove reflected on their faces, bathing everything in a warm orange-red hue.

Tomorrow is the ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, Su Jiuge's birthday. Madam Shen is going to make three dishes of osmanthus cakes by hand, as promised.

In the guest room of the east courtyard, the old drunkard lay on the bed, staring at the unfamiliar tent ceiling, unable to fall asleep for a long time.

He touched the lotus-root-colored handkerchief in his arms; the handkerchief carried a faint scent of osmanthus.

Footsteps came from the courtyard, very light and steady.

"Senior brother, still awake?"

The voice of the ghost hand came from outside the door.

"I can't sleep," the old drunkard said.

There was a moment of silence outside the door.

"Me too."

The two people were separated by a door, and neither of them spoke again.

The wind whistled through the eaves, like an old song whose lyrics no one remembers.

Su Jiuge lay on her bed with her eyes open.

She reached out and touched the knife on the bedside table, then touched the wooden box under the pillow.

The knife is still there, as are the wooden box, jade pendant, gold medal, and iron medal.

She closed her eyes and waited in the darkness for tomorrow to arrive.

Tomorrow is her birthday. It's been sixteen years, and this is the first time she's celebrating her birthday. She's a little nervous.

It was even more nerve-wracking than killing Chen Beixuan.