Nine Nights Owl Song

My name is Zhao Ying, and I am twenty-six years old.

Orphaned, homeless, and without a home, I roam the world with only a short blade. Those in the martial world who respect me call me "Shadow," while those who don't call me "that madman."

I don't care, they can't beat me anyway.

I've been involved in the underworld since I was a child. I had my finger broken when I was seven for stealing steamed buns, my leg was bitten when I was nine for fighting with wild dogs for food, and I killed my first person when I was twelve—a gambler who owed debts and refused to pay them back. I stabbed him in the heart, and his blood splattered all over my face.

I wasn't scared; I was even a little excited.

From that day on, I knew that this was the line of work I was born to do.

When I was fifteen, I met an old man who taught me martial arts for three years.

He said I was exceptionally talented and a martial arts prodigy.

I told you to stop flattering me and just teach me what you need to teach.

He was so angry he was blowing his beard and glaring, but he still passed on all the knowledge he had acquired in his life to me.

I completed my apprenticeship at eighteen and started taking on jobs in the martial arts world.

Start by killing the cheapest hidden strength masters, and gradually work your way up to the transformation strength level and then to the elixir formation level.

He fought until he was twenty-five, reaching the Core Formation Realm.

There are no more than twenty experts at the Core Formation Realm in the entire Great Liang Dynasty, and I am the youngest.

I made a lot of money, but I spent it all too quickly.

Without a home or roots, the money felt heavy on my person, and I didn't feel safe keeping it in a money exchange, so I simply spent it.

Drink the finest wine, eat the best meat, buy the best knife. Live life to the fullest, and die a worthy death.

A deal worth two million taels of silver? To be honest, I've never seen such a sum in all my years as an assassin.

The employer is the Second Prince's man, and his target is Su Jiuge—Night Owl, the head of the Dark Pavilion, and the legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Dingyuan.

I have never met Su Jiuge, but I know her.

The legends in the martial arts world are incredibly exaggerated, such as "taking the head of a general amidst ten thousand troops" and "the deadly night owl never misses its target."

I wanted to laugh when I heard this. A girl at the late stage of the Transformation Realm is being praised like this? There must be no one left in this martial arts world.

I took the job not for the money, but to see just how capable this woman really was.

On the night of my wedding, I led six brothers to climb over the roof into the Prince Zhao's mansion.

The courtyard was filled with red lanterns, and the character "囍" (double happiness) was pasted everywhere.

Su Jiuge emerged from the bridal chamber, dressed in a light purple cotton robe, her hair casually tied up, a straight sword hanging at her waist. She wasn't the murderous figure I had imagined; she was simply a very thin, tired-looking girl with bright eyes.

I fought her.

He is at the late stage of the Transformation Realm, with good swordsmanship and decent agility, making him one of the top performers among the younger generation.

But they're not good enough for me.

At the late stage of the Core Formation Realm, I could crush her with one hand.

She was defiant; even when she couldn't win, she would fight. If her knife broke, she'd use her fists; if her fists were injured, she'd use her teeth, like a wolf cub driven to the brink. I thought to myself, "This woman is interesting."

Then Xiao Yan made his move.

Xiao Yan, the sixth prince, was a notorious wastrel and good-for-nothing in the court.

When I took the order before, I saw the information, which said, "Xiao Yan, the sixth prince, titled Prince Zhao, is uneducated, a womanizer, and has mediocre martial arts skills."

Those words now seem like a joke.

He stood in front of Su Jiuge and grabbed my short blade with his bare hands. The blade embedded itself in his palm, and blood dripped from between his fingers—the Core Formation Realm. A profound, majestic, and unfathomable Core Formation Realm.

My hand gripping the short blade trembled. Not from fear, but from excitement.

Over the years, I've killed many people and seen quite a few experts. I've fought against those at the Core Formation stage and killed countless peak Transformation stage experts, but there has never been a single person who made me feel—I can't beat them—just by looking at them.

But Xiao Yan was different. He stood there, holding the knife in his bare hand, and looked at me, saying, "You hurt her." I wanted to fight him, fight until the end of time, until a winner was decided.

I took off my mask.

Beneath the mask is a face I've almost forgotten.

For years I've worn a mask, and after wearing it for so long, I thought the mask was me. At that moment, I wanted him to see my face—my name is Zhao Ying, I'm twenty-six, and I challenge you.

Su Jiuge agreed to let me join the Dark Pavilion.

The condition is that I have to fight him once every six months.

I bowed before Su Jiuge and addressed her as Pavilion Master, my eyes fixed on Xiao Yan.

Six months is too long, how about three months?

Su Jiuge said no.

Half a year, not a single day less.

Xiao Yan said the same thing; the couple were in cahoots.

After leaving Prince Zhao's residence, I took my brothers out for drinks.

The wine wasn't good, but it was enjoyable to drink.

My brothers asked me why I wanted to join the Dark Pavilion.

I told you you don't understand, encountering someone you can't beat is much more interesting than killing someone you can.

The brothers looked at each other, saying that a madman is indeed a madman.

I said yes, I am crazy.

In mid-March, the Dark Pavilion assigned me a new identity—Commander of the Guards of Prince Zhao's Mansion.

He was responsible for the safety of the Sixth Prince and his wife.

To put it bluntly, he was a defeated general of Xiao Yan who served as his doorman and bodyguard.

On the day I reported to Prince Zhao's residence, Su Jiuge was practicing her sword skills in the training ground. When she saw me, she only said one sentence: "You know the rules?" I said I knew.

She nodded and continued practicing her swordplay, ignoring me.

I told Xiao Yan that I would defeat him in six months. Xiao Yan was brewing tea and didn't even look up, speaking to me as if he were coaxing a child.

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you in six months."

Then they handed me a cup of tea, saying it was newly arrived pre-Qingming Longjing. I picked it up and took a sip, which burned my tongue.

And so life went on.

They're no longer the assassins of freedom; they're from the Dark Cabinet.

He lived in a side courtyard of the Prince Zhao's mansion, getting up early every day to practice martial arts, patrol the mansion, eat, and sleep, occasionally giving his subordinates a few words of instruction.

Su Jiuge doesn't assign me any tasks, and Xiao Yan doesn't care about me either. I've become the most idle person in the Zhao Prince's mansion.

When he was free, he would go and fight Xiao Yan.

He brewed tea while I drank it. Halfway through the fight, he said, "No, we can't fight now; the six-month period hasn't ended yet." He just laughed, a laugh that made my teeth itch.

Su Jiuge heard the commotion in the training ground, picked up her knife, and stood at the door watching us.

She always watched with a blank expression, as if she were watching two children fight.

Then they would say, "Zhao Ying, go and take over the silk shop in the East Market. The Dark Pavilion needs funds."

I didn't want to go, but she looked at me and said, "It's an order," her voice not loud, but I didn't dare disobey.

She is the head of the pavilion, and she has the final say.

Zhao Xiaohe is the person in the Dark Pavilion who is least afraid of me.

This little girl is so naive and arrogant. She's only fourteen years old, but she's timid like a little rabbit, always smiling at everyone she meets.

She doesn't get angry when Shen Qing ignores her, she doesn't mind when Ghost Hand doesn't talk to her, and she even dares to talk back when I tease her.

Once, I was practicing my skills in the yard when she ran over and squatted down to watch. After watching for a while, she said, "Your swordsmanship is so fancy."

I put the knife away, saying it was flashy, but it worked.

She thought for a moment and then said, "Brother Shen Qing's swordsmanship isn't as flashy as yours, but his sword is faster than yours."

I choked for a moment, wondering who this little girl was to Shen Qing.

Later I noticed that Zhao Xiaohe's gaze towards Shen Qing was strange.

Every time Shen Qing appeared, her eyes would light up, as if a lamp had been lit.

Shen Qing's gaze followed her wherever she went.

Shen Qing was injured, and she was more anxious than anyone else, sobbing uncontrollably while clinging to his arm.

Shen Qing has a crippled arm and doesn't like to talk; he's like a block of wood.

Zhao Xiaohe didn't care and stayed around him every day, bringing him water, food, and handkerchiefs. Shen Qing ignored her, but she still smiled happily.

Sometimes I think this girl is silly, and sometimes I think she's not silly at all.

She knows what she wants, better than most people.

One evening in April.

I went to the study to find Xiao Yan, and he was sitting behind his desk reviewing official documents.

These weren't official documents from the imperial court; they were intelligence summaries from the Thousand Machine Tower, a thick stack every day.

I sat down opposite him, quietly without saying a word.

Xiao Yan spoke first. "Speak your mind."

I asked him why he pretended to be a good-for-nothing back then, and wasn't he tired of doing it for over twenty years? Xiao Yan remained silent for a long time. I looked at his tired face—he couldn't be not tired; he was just holding on.

Xiao Yan said, "I was only eight years old when my mother died. The night she died, I went to see my father, but he was reviewing memorials and told me to go back first. When I got back, my mother had already passed away. No one told me she was so ill, and no one let me see her one last time. From that day on, I no longer wanted to fight."

Xiao Yan's voice was very soft.

"What's the point of fighting for that position? Even if you get that position, you won't have time to be there for your mother in her final days. It's better to be a useless person; at least you'll still be alive."

I don't know what to say.

I have no father or mother, and no one taught me these things. All I know is that he has been carrying this burden alone since he was eight years old, for more than ten years.

I stood up and walked to the door.

"Xiao Yan".

"Um."

"The six-month period is up, and I won't show any mercy."

Xiao Yan smiled. "I don't know either."

I went outside.

The moonlight was beautiful in the courtyard, and the pomegranate tree had sprouted buds.

I think I should go practice my martial arts.

In April of the eighteenth year of Yong'an, I stayed at Prince Zhao's residence for a month. I became the commander of the guards of Prince Zhao's residence.

I completed the tasks assigned by Su Jiuge, but she didn't know about the ones she didn't assign—there were people secretly watching the Zhao Prince's residence, and it wasn't just one group.

I walked to the door of the study, and Xiao Yan was still reviewing official documents.

Su Jiuge was practicing her sword skills in the training ground, while Shen Qing stood under the corridor, holding a scabbard and waiting for her.

Zhao Xiaohe peered out the window at Shen Qing, her eyes shining.

Ghost Hand handles affairs at the Dark Pavilion branch.

An old drunkard was drinking in a side courtyard.

Zhao Tiesheng manages a silk shop in the East Market.

I think this is home—not a house, but people.

For these people, the Prince Zhao's residence is their home.

This is the first time in twenty-six years I've felt this way. It's good.