Nine Nights Owl Song

In the late October of the eighteenth year of Yong'an.

Luoyang, Prince Zhao's residence.

Lin Mo has locked himself in for three days.

Since returning from the Northern Border, he has devoted himself to the workshop in the west courtyard of Prince Zhao's mansion, eating and sleeping there, and never leaving except to use the outhouse.

Zhao Xiaohe brings him food every day. The food is hot when she brings it to him, but it gets cold when she takes it away. He hardly touches it.

As Zhao Ying passed by the workshop entrance, she heard the clanging and clattering of hammering and gears turning coming from inside, interspersed with Lin Mo's mutterings—

"No, the angle is wrong."

"So close, so very close"

"Why just not?"

Xiao Yan stood at the entrance of the workshop, looking at the tightly closed door.

Su Jiuge stood next to him.

"What's wrong with him?" Su Jiuge asked.

"Something's been off ever since we came back from the North. The ballistae and catapults are so well made; they should be full of energy and high spirits. Instead, they're holed up in the workshop and won't come out. Something must be wrong." Xiao Yan shook his head.

Su Jiuge looked at the door.

"Go in and see. You are his master, you speak to him."

Xiao Yan looked at her. "I am his master, you are his sect leader. Your words carry more weight than mine."

Su Jiuge remained silent for a moment.

She pushed open the workshop door.

The workshop was in a mess, with parts, blueprints and tools piled on the floor, semi-finished products on the table, and scrap materials piled in the corner.

Lin Mo sat on the ground, holding a gear in his hand and examining it repeatedly under the light, without even raising his head when he heard the door open.

"Just put it on the table."

Su Jiuge walked up to him.

Lin Mo looked up and saw it was her. He was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head like a child who had done something wrong.

"Pavilion...Pavilion Master."

Su Jiuge squatted down and looked at him.

He had lost weight; his round face had become long; there were dark circles under his eyes; his hands were covered in grease; several wounds had scabbed over; and his fingers were trembling slightly—not out of fear, but because he was obsessed with something he couldn't control.

"Let's go for a walk."

Su Jiuge's tone left no room for argument.

Lin Mo shook his head.

"Walk."

Su Jiuge stood up.

Lin Mo looked at her unquestionable gaze, swallowed hard, put down the gear, and stood up.

In October, the city of Luoyang is blessed with clear skies and crisp air, with the wind blowing from the west, carrying the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms.

The streets were bustling with people, the cries of vendors rose and fell, and children chased and played at the alley entrance.

Su Jiuge walked in front, and Lin Mo followed behind, neither of them speaking.

Su Jiuge took him to Tingyuxuan.

Xiao Yan was already in the private room on the second floor, with a pot of tea and a plate of osmanthus cake in front of him. Zhao Ying was yawning while sunbathing by the window, and Shen Qing was standing at the door with a blank expression.

Xiao Yan poured Lin Mo a cup of tea.

"sit."

Lin Mo sat down with his head down.

Zhao Ying walked over from the window, pulled up a chair, sat down, crossed her legs, and sighed as she looked at Lin Mo.

"You've been stuck in the workshop for three days and haven't produced anything. What setback did you encounter? Tell us."

Lin Mo's lips moved slightly.

"The things I did killed a lot of people."

The private room fell silent.

"In the battle in the North, the ballistae, catapults, and siege engines I built killed many soldiers. I know that people die in war, but those soldiers also had families. When the crossbow bolts I made pierced their bodies, I saw their eyes."

Xiao Yan put down his teacup.

"You don't want to make weapons anymore?"

Lin Mo remained silent for a long time.

"It's not that I don't want to build, it's that I can't keep going. Every time I draw blueprints, those people's eyes flash through my mind. I can't hold the pen steady, I can't draw the blueprints, I can't calculate the gears accurately, and no matter how I build it, it's wrong. It wasn't like this before. Before, drawing blueprints was fun, and building things was a skill. Now, drawing blueprints is torture, and building things is like being an accomplice to murder."

Zhao Ying suddenly smiled.

Lin Mo looked at him, and Zhao Ying said:

"You're really something. You've already killed him, and now you're regretting it?" Lin Mo's face flushed red.

Su Jiuge glanced at Zhao Ying.

Zhao Ying raised her hands. "Okay, okay, I won't say anything more."

Xiao Yan poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of Lin Mo.

Lin Mo looked at him.

Xiao Yan picked up his teacup.

"The things you created killed people, and you feel like an accomplice. If you hadn't created those things, the North wouldn't have been conquered. If the North hadn't been conquered, even more people would have died. The rebels occupied the North, and the people were displaced. You saved far more people than you killed."

Lin Mo fell silent.

Su Jiuge placed her hand on the table.

"Lin Mo, your craftsmanship can save many lives. The crossbows you built can repel foreign enemies and prevent the Qiang cavalry from advancing south. The catapults you built can reclaim the northern border and prevent the rebels from harming the people. The siege engines you built can save our soldiers from dying."

Lin Mo looked up and gazed into Su Jiuge's eyes.

There was no comfort or sympathy in those eyes.

Su Jiuge looked at him, word by word.

"What kills is not your tool, but your heart. Tools have no good or evil, but the heart does."

Lin Mo's tears fell silently, streaming down his face. Xiao Yan pushed the osmanthus cake in front of him.

"Eat a piece of cake, and you won't want to think about it anymore."

Lin Mo picked up the osmanthus cake and took a bite.

It was sweet, so sweet that it made his throat tighten and his tears fell even harder.

He ate while crying, finishing the entire plate of osmanthus cake.

Zhao Ying watched from the side and muttered something.

"What will we eat after we finish eating?"

Shen Qing glanced at him. Zhao Ying shut up.

Su Jiuge stood up.

"Return to the residence."

The setting sun cast long, long shadows of them on the streets of Luojing.

Su Jiuge walked in front, Lin Mo followed behind, Xiao Yan walked next to Lin Mo, and Zhao Ying and Shen Qing walked at the very back.

Lin Mo suddenly stopped. "Sect Master."

Su Jiuge turned around and looked at him.

"I've figured it out. Tools themselves are neither good nor evil; it's people's hearts that are. The weapons I create will save lives if used by good people, and harm people if used by bad people. I can't stop making them just because bad people can use them. Even if I don't make them, bad people will. I might as well make them for good people to use."

Su Jiuge looked at him.

Lin Mo wiped his face.

"I'm going back to the workshop." He turned and ran towards Prince Zhao's residence, running very fast.

Zhao Ying watched his retreating figure.

"That chubby kid is alive again."

Xiao Yan smiled.

Su Jiuge stood there, watching Lin Mo's retreating figure.

Xiao Yan walked to her side.

"What you just said really resonated with him."

Su Jiuge did not answer and continued walking.

Xiao Yan followed beside her.

The setting sun shone on them.

Xiao Yan suddenly spoke.

"When did you learn to comfort people?"

Su Jiuge did not answer.

She wasn't trying to comfort people; she was telling the truth.

Tools are neither good nor evil; it is the human heart that creates them.

That's what the old drunkard taught her.

It was late at night. The lights in Lin Mo's workshop stayed on very late.

A newly drawn blueprint lay on the table; the angles of the gears had been recalculated and were more precise than the previous one.

Lin Mo held the pen and drew intently, muttering to himself, "If I improve it a bit more, the range can reach six hundred paces."

Zhao Xiaohe stood at the door with a late-night snack in her hand. Seeing Lin Mo's focused expression, she didn't go in, but left the snack at the door and walked away.

The moonlight in the courtyard was like water.

Shen Qing stood under the corridor, sword in hand, watching Zhao Xiaohe's retreating figure.

Zhao Ying emerged from the shadows. "What are you looking at?"

Shen Qing didn't answer. Zhao Ying followed his gaze and a smile appeared on her face.

"Oh—I understand." Shen Qing gave him a cold look.

"roll."

October of the eighteenth year of Yong'an.

Lin Mo overcame the hurdle in her heart.

The workshop lights came on again.