Nine Nights Owl Song

The training camp was like a meat grinder, crushing those kids who weren't strong enough, fast enough, or ruthless enough, day after day.

By the end of the first month, only twenty-three of the fifty children remained.

By the end of the second month, the number had increased from twenty-three to nineteen.

In the third month, there were sixteen.

Ah Jiu survived.

She was like a stone thrown into a rapid current, inconspicuous and unassuming, yet she could never sink.

She doesn't go out with friends, doesn't cause trouble, and doesn't talk much to anyone.

He trains during the day, goes into the forest at night, and after returning, he shrinks into a corner of the shed to practice his internal energy and regulate his breathing, like a lone wolf that goes about its own business.

Her grades weren't the best, but they weren't among the worst either.

Always running in the middle, always winning in combat but never easy, always coming back alive from survival training but never being the first to arrive.

She was hiding her true abilities.

The butcher could see it, and so could Ghost Hand. But neither of them said anything. In the Dark Pavilion, concealing one's abilities is a skill, but being able to conceal them is an even greater skill.

In the fourth month, things changed.

The training has evolved from "survival" to "collaboration".

The butcher stood in the open space, with sixteen children lined up in front of him.

"From today onwards, you will be paired up," he said. "Two people per team, you will train together, go on missions together, live or die together."

The children looked at each other in bewilderment.

In the Dark Pavilion, trust is the most luxurious thing. Everyone here is scheming against others, waiting to climb over the corpses of others to rise to the top. Suddenly making them team up is like putting two venomous snakes in a cage, forcing them to depend on each other for survival.

"I know what you're thinking," the butcher grinned.

"You think teaming up is suicide. But the Dark Pavilion doesn't want useless lone wolves. Some missions can't be completed alone. Sometimes, you need someone watching over you. Of course, you can choose not to trust your partner—then just wait to be stabbed in the back."

He clapped his hands, and two assistants came up and began reading the list.

"Number one and number sixteen."

"Number two and number fifteen."

……

"Number seven and number ten."

"Number eight and number nine."

Ah Jiu is number eight. Her partner is number nine.

Number Nine was a girl, a few months older than A-Jiu, also seven years old, but a head taller than A-Jiu. She had messy black hair and a dirty face, but you could tell she had good features, with delicate features, especially her eyes, which were big and round, like two black grapes just pulled from the water.

Her name is Ayao.

Ah Jiu remembered Ah Yao. They had trained together a few times in the past four months. Ah Yao's grades were similar to hers, neither outstanding nor at the bottom, existing in the middle of the training camp like a shadow.

Ayao recognized Ajiu too. She turned around and smiled at Ajiu.

That smile was so clean, so clean, that it didn't seem like the smile of a child who had lived in the Dark Pavilion training camp for four months.

Ajiu didn't laugh; she just glanced at her and then looked away.

On the first day of team formation, the butcher gave each team a wooden knife and a whetstone.

"Your task is simple—sharpen this wooden sword until it can cut through hemp rope," he said. "By this time tomorrow, I want to see the results. Both members of the group that fails will be eliminated."

"Elimination means death," he added, as if afraid someone might forget.

The sixteen children dispersed and each found a place to sharpen their knives.

Ayao followed Ajiu to a rock in the corner of the camp and sat down, placing the wooden knife and whetstone in front of them.

"Will you grind it or should I grind it?" Ayao asked.

"Let's all grind them," Ajiu said. "Let each person grind for a while, then take turns, so it won't be too tiring."

"Okay." Ayao nodded and picked up the wooden knife to start sharpening.

Ajiu sat beside her, watching Ayao sharpen the knife. Her technique was precise, with even pressure and a steady angle, indicating that she had sharpened knives before, and many times at that.

"Where are you from?" Ayao suddenly asked.

Ajiu didn't say anything.

"I'm from Bingzhou," Ayao continued, seemingly unconcerned whether Ajiu answered or not. "My family was poor, so my father sold me. The person who bought me then resold me to the Dark Pavilion. And you?"

"I don't remember," Ajiu said.

Ayao glanced at her but didn't ask any further questions.

The two of them sat in the corner, taking turns talking for a while. Occasionally, A-Yao would say a few words, and A-Jiu would reply occasionally, but most of the time they remained silent.

The wooden knife was sharpened before dark.

The blade gleamed coldly in the moonlight. Ayao lightly sliced ​​the back of her hand with the back of the blade, and a few hairs snapped off.

"It's done," she said with a smile, handing the wooden knife to Ajiu.

Ah Jiu took it, examined the blade, and nodded.

This was the first time she had collaborated with someone to accomplish something.

It feels...not bad.

---

For the next two weeks, Ajiu and Ayao trained together, carried out missions together, and spent the night together in the forest.

Ayao was a chatterbox, always chattering away in Ajiu's ear. At first, Ajiu found it annoying, but she gradually got used to it, and then she realized she was listening.

"You know, I had a dog when I was little," Ayao said while peeling bark from a tree. "It had yellow fur, was really fat, and its belly would touch the ground when it ran. Later, someone stole it and ate it."

"Um."

"I cried for days. My mother said, 'Why are you crying? It's just a dog.' I said, 'It's not a dog, it's my best friend.'"

Ajiu didn't say anything, and she whittled the branch in her hand even faster.

"Ah Jiu, do you have a best friend?" Ah Yao asked.

Ah Jiu's hand paused for a moment.

She wanted to say "old drunkard," but "old drunkard" wasn't a friend. "Old drunkard" was... she didn't know how to define that person.

"No," she said.

"Now I have it," Ayao said with a smile. "From now on, I'm your best friend. And you're my best friend too."

Ajiu raised her head and looked at Ayao.

Under the moonlight, Ayao's smile was bright and open, like a lamp lit in the darkness.

Ah-Jiu wanted to say, "I don't need friends," but the words stuck in her throat.

She simply hummed in agreement and lowered her head to continue whittling the branches.

That was the first time in seven years that she had allowed someone to get close to her.

Ayao didn't lie to her.

In the days that followed, Ayao truly did everything a friend should do.

When Ajiu was injured, Ayao bandaged her wound. When Ajiu couldn't find food, Ayao shared half of hers with her. Once, Ajiu was bitten by a poisonous snake in the forest, and Ayao carried her for three miles to find the butcher to get the antidote.

"Don't die," Ayao said breathlessly, her face streaked with tears and snot. "You promised to live with me."

As Ajiu lay on the ground, looking at Ayao's tear-streaked face, a part of her heart stirred.

That place has been sealed off ever since the old drunkard died, and it's as cold as a block of ice.

At that moment, a crack appeared in the ice.

"I won't die," Ah Jiu said.

She survived.

From that day on, she began to truly regard Ayao as a partner, a friend, and the only person in the world besides the old drunkard she could trust.

She even began to think that perhaps the Dark Pavilion wasn't just about darkness. Perhaps something warm could grow even in the darkness.

She was wrong.

---

The ninth month.

The final test of the training camp.

The butcher stood in the open space, with only thirteen children in front of him.

Six pairs of partners, plus one lone individual—the boy who lost his left arm. His partner died during the seventh month's trial, and the Dark Pavilion made an exception and allowed him to continue as a solo individual.

"Today's test is the final one." The Butcher's voice echoed across the open space. "There is an abandoned mine on the north side of Cangwu Mountain, and deep within the mine lies a black token. Each group has two hours. Those who obtain the token and return here alive pass the test. Those who fail to obtain it, or do not return, are eliminated."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across each child's face.

"There are many branching paths inside the mine. Some are dead ends, and some contain... other things. The Dark Pavilion has placed some 'obstacles' in the mine, so be careful."

Nobody asked what the "obstacle" was.

In the Dark Pavilion, "obstacles" are never obstacles, but deadly threats.

The thirteen children were divided into six groups and set off one after another.

Ajiu and Ayao walked at the very back.

Before entering the mine, Ayao suddenly grabbed Ajiu's hand.

"Ah Jiu." Her voice sounded strange.

"Um?"

"If I do something wrong, will you forgive me?"

Ajiu glanced at her, finding her words somewhat inexplicable, but didn't think much of it.

"You won't do anything wrong," Ah Jiu said. "Let's go."

The mine was deep, growing darker and darker the further in you went, the more humid the air became, filled with a smell of sulfur and decay. Occasionally, phosphorescent lights could be seen on the walls, their eerie blue glow flickering in the darkness like malevolent eyes.

Ajiu walked ahead, holding a tinderbox in her left hand and a wooden knife that had been sharpened countless times in her right hand—although the butcher said it was a wooden knife, after more than half a year of polishing and soaking in tung oil, its hardness was no less than that of iron.

Ayao followed behind, her footsteps so light they were almost inaudible.

They walked for about half an hour in the mine, passing through three forks in the road and avoiding two traps, before finally finding the black token behind a pile of rubble.

The token was small, about the size of a palm, and was engraved with a black lotus from the Dark Pavilion.

"Found it." Ayao's voice was filled with excitement.

Ajiu picked up the token and stuffed it into her bosom.

"Walk."

They turned and walked back.

When they reached the first fork in the road, Ajiu stopped.

She heard a sound.

It didn't come from the front, it came from the back.

It was an extremely faint, metallic scraping sound—someone was drawing a knife.

Ajiu's instincts were faster than her brain. Her body jerked to the side, and a wooden knife stabbed from behind her, grazing her ribs and slicing through the flesh on her side.

Blood splattered out.

Ajiu turned around, and the tinder in her hand illuminated the face of the man holding the knife.

Ayao.

A smile still lingered on her face, but it was no longer the clean and bright smile Ah Jiu was familiar with. The smile carried tension, guilt, and a resolute "I know what I'm doing, but I can't not do it" attitude.

"I'm sorry," Ayao said, her voice trembling. "They said only one person can survive in a group. The one who survives can become a silver-level assassin."

Ajiu looked at her without saying a word.

Her side was bleeding and burning with pain. But what hurt even more than the wound was the area on her chest—the ice she thought had cracked was now refreezing at an even faster rate.

"Ah Yao," Ah Jiu finally spoke, her voice eerily calm.

You said I was your best friend.

Ayao's tears flowed down her cheeks.

Her hands were trembling, and the tip of the wooden knife was quivering slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said again, then gritted her teeth and swung the knife once more.

Ajiu did not dodge.

It's not that you can't avoid it.

They don't want to hide anymore.

She stood there, watching the wooden knife come down on her neck, her heart turning cold.

Then she moved.

Her speed was far superior to A Yao's. Just as A Yao's wooden sword was about to strike her neck, she dodged the blade to the side, reversed her grip on her own wooden sword with her right hand, and slammed the hilt of the sword into A Yao's wrist.

A crisp "crack" sounded from A Yao's wrist as the wooden knife flew out of her hand.

Ayao screamed and fell backward, landing on the ground with her left hand clutching her right wrist, tears and snot streaming down her face.

Ah Jiu walked over and looked down at her.

The light from the tinderbox shone on Ajiu's face, but her expression remained unchanged.

She just looked at Ayao, as if she were looking at an object.

"They're lying to you," Ajiu said. "How many people survive in a group is decided by me, not by the rules."

She took the black token out of her bosom and waved it in front of A Yao.

"I'll take this back. Both of them have passed. No one needs to die."

Ayao's tears were still flowing, but the expression on her face changed from pain to astonishment, and then from astonishment to something more complicated—regret, but regret mixed with resentment.

"Do you still consider me a friend?" Ayao asked, crying.

"I have no friends," Ah Jiu said.

She turned around and walked towards the mine exit.

After walking a dozen steps, she heard a sound coming from behind her.

Ayao is picking up a knife.

Ajiu closed her eyes and stopped walking.

She gave Ayao a chance.

Two opportunities.

The first time A Yao drew her sword, she didn't retaliate; she simply dodged.

The second time, after defeating A Yao, she told her that they could go back together alive.

Ayao missed both opportunities.

Now, does she want to give it a third time?

I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Ayao, gripping a wooden knife, lunged at Ajiu's back.

Ajiu did not turn around.

Her body swayed like a bamboo stalk in the wind, shifting slightly to the side, and A-Yao's wooden knife missed its mark. She seized the opportunity to grab A-Yao's wrist, which was holding the knife, and pulled her, causing A-Yao to lose her balance and fall forward.

Ahead lay a bottomless crevice.

It was a natural fissure in the mine, about three feet wide and bottomless, with darkness below that you couldn't see anything.

Ayao's body traced an arc in the air before plummeting straight down.

She didn't scream.

Perhaps it was because there wasn't enough time, or perhaps she knew that screaming wouldn't help.

She only looked up at Ah Jiu one last time as she fell.

Ah Jiu couldn't see what was in that glance.

The light from the tinderbox was too dim; it couldn't even reach the crack in the ground.

She only heard a sound coming from the depths of the ground, growing farther and farther away, fainter and fainter, until it was finally swallowed by the darkness.

thump.

Then came silence.

Ah Jiu stood at the edge of the crevice, looking down into the bottomless darkness, motionless.

Blood was still flowing from her side, warm blood trickling down her thigh and dripping onto the rocks in the mine, making a soft, pattering sound.

She reached out and touched the wound on her side.

The wound wasn't deep, but it was long, stretching from the ribs all the way to the waist, like a crooked, smiling face.

Ah Jiu rubbed his hands on his clothes to remove the blood, then turned around and continued walking towards the mine exit.

She walked slowly, each step steady.

The mine was quiet, with only the sound of her own footsteps and dripping water.

As she walked, she suddenly stopped.

She noticed something on her face.

It's cold.

She reached out and touched it, her fingertips feeling a damp patch.

It's not blood.

It is tears.

Ah Jiu stared blankly at the tiny speck of clear liquid on her fingertip.

She thought she wouldn't cry.

When was the last time she cried? She couldn't remember. Maybe it was the night the old drunkard died, or maybe even earlier.

But now she's crying.

It wasn't because of fear, it wasn't because of pain, it wasn't because Ayao died.

It was because she realized something in that instant—

From this day forward, she will no longer trust anyone.

The old drunkard is right.

It's better to rely on yourself than on anyone else.

And she even has to question her own qualifications—because just now, she could have turned around, she could have grabbed A-Yao's hand, she could have given her a third chance.

She didn't.

She let go.

It's not because I can't do it, it's because I don't want to do it anymore.

This thought hurts more than any wound.

Ah Jiu wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and continued walking forward.

The mine exit was just ahead, emitting a pale light.

When she walked out of the mine, the sunlight was so bright that she squinted.

The butcher stood at the entrance of the cave and raised an eyebrow when he saw her come out alone.

Where is your partner?

"He's dead," Ajiu said.

"How did he die?"

"I fell into a crack in the ground."

The butcher looked at the wound on Ah Jiu's side and then at her calm, almost numb expression, and didn't ask any more questions.

He held out his hand: "The token."

Ajiu took out a black token from her bosom and placed it in his palm.

The butcher took the token and put a checkmark next to Ajiu's name.

"Approved," he said. "Go back and rest. The final list will be announced tomorrow."

Ajiu nodded and walked past him.

She took a few steps, then suddenly stopped and asked, "Only one person can survive in a group, is that a lie?"

The butcher remained silent for a moment.

"It's fake," he said.

Ah Jiu didn't say anything more and continued walking forward.

As the butcher watched her retreating figure, he suddenly felt that the child's back looked even thinner than it had a month ago, as thin as a piece of paper that would crumble in the wind.

But he knew the paper wouldn't tear.

The back of the paper is iron.

It is something more indestructible than iron.

---

That night, Ajiu did not return to the shed.

She sat alone on the hillside outside the camp, looking at the stars in the sky.

The starry sky over Cangwu Mountain is beautiful. The Milky Way stretches across the sky like a flowing ribbon of light. The stars are densely packed together, like countless eyes, indifferently watching everything on the ground.

Ajiu took something out of her bosom.

It was the wooden box that the old drunkard left for her.

She held the wooden box in her hand, feeling its heavy weight.

"Old drunkard," she said softly.

"You're right. Relying on yourself is better than relying on anyone else."

She tucked the wooden box back into her bosom, placing it close to her skin.

Then she lay down, resting her head on her arms, looking at the starry sky, and slowly closed her eyes.

This time, she wasn't dreaming.

Or rather, her dream has ended.

Starting tomorrow, she will have no partner, no friends, and will not allow anyone to come near her.

She will be the sharpest blade in the Dark Pavilion.

A knife devoid of any emotion.

This was the last lesson A-Yao gave her.

She learned very well.