Nine Nights Owl Song

The best restaurant in Qingjiang City is called Zuixianlou.

Qian Shaoqing comes here to drink several times a month, and sure enough, he came today.

Zhao Ying sat by the window on the second floor, with a pot of wine and a plate of peanuts, looking as if she was waiting for someone.

When Qian Shaoqing went upstairs, Zhao Ying was holding a wine glass and looking out at the street scene.

Qian Shaoqing's gaze swept over Zhao Ying and then returned.

Zhao Ying's moon-white brocade robe shimmered softly in the sunlight, her hair was tied up with a jade crown, and the lines of her profile were as sharp as if carved by a knife and axe.

Qian Shaoqing paused for a moment, his gaze lingered on Zhao Ying for three breaths, and then looked away.

Zhao Ying felt that gaze but did not turn around.

He held his wine glass, a slight smile playing on his lips—

The fish has taken the bait.

Qian Shaoqing sat down at the table next to him, ordered a pot of wine and a few dishes, and his gaze kept drifting over.

Zhao Ying pretended not to see it and continued drinking and eating peanuts.

After a few rounds of drinks, Qian Shaoqing came over with a wine glass in his hand.

He was in his early twenties, with a fair complexion, slender eyebrows and eyes, thin and red lips, wearing a black brocade robe, and a long knife hanging at his waist.

She's good-looking, but a bit too effeminate.

"This gentleman looks unfamiliar. You're not from Qingjiang, are you?" Qian Shaoqing's voice was gentle.

Zhao Ying looked up at him and smiled.

"Brother, you have a good eye. My name is Zhao Ying, and I come from Luoyang. I'm doing some small business and was passing through Qingjiang when I heard the wine here is quite good, so I came to try it."

Qian Shaoqing sat down opposite him and poured Zhao Ying a glass of wine.

"From Luoyang? Luoyang is a good place. I am Qian Shaoqing, from Qingjiang. What kind of business do you do, Brother Zhao?"

"Silk." Zhao Ying raised her wine glass and clinked it against Qian Shaoqing's.

Qian Shaoqing's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Silk? The silk business in Luoyang must be tough, right?"

Zhao Ying smiled.

"It's not easy to do business here. That's why I came to the Southern Border to take a look. I heard that the silk from the Southern Border is quite good, and I'd like to buy some to sell back in Luoyang."

He put down his glass and sighed.

"Unfortunately, I'm unfamiliar with the southern region and know absolutely nothing about it. Brother Qian, you're a local, could you perhaps offer some guidance?"

Qian Shaoqing looked at him, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment. "What does Brother Zhao wish to inquire about?"

Zhao Ying picked up her wine glass.

"I want to know everything."

The two drank at Zuixianlou for more than an hour.

Zhao Ying's acting skills are superb; she can be bold when she needs to be, reserved when she needs to be, laugh when she needs to laugh, and sigh when she needs to sigh.

Qian Shaoqing was completely charmed by him, and they talked about everything from the silk business to the scenery of Qingjiang, and then from the scenery of Qingjiang to martial arts and swordsmanship.

Zhao Ying is a master swordsman at the Core Formation Realm, and Qian Shaoqing is obsessed with swordsmanship.

The two chatted back and forth for more than an hour, and Qian Shaoqing's gaze toward Zhao Ying became increasingly different.

As dusk approached, Qian Shaoqing stood up.

"Brother Zhao, I had a very pleasant chat with you today. May I ask where you live? Let's talk again another day."

Zhao Ying cupped her hands in greeting.

"I am staying at the Yuelai Inn. Brother Qian, please feel free to visit me anytime."

Qian Shaoqing nodded and turned to go downstairs.

He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at Zhao Ying.

"Brother Zhao, you are a very interesting person." Zhao Ying smiled.

As Qian Shaoqing left, the smile on Zhao Ying's face gradually faded.

After listening to Zhao Ying's report, Su Jiuge remained silent for a moment.

"Qian Shaoqing should be interested in you."

Zhao Ying's face turned green again.

"Master, could you please rephrase that?"

Su Jiuge looked at him.

"He wants to be friends with you, what do you think?"

Zhao Ying thought for a moment.

He felt that I was the same kind of person as him. I loved knives, I loved wine, and I didn't like being controlled.

He had no friends in Qingjiang. Qian Shigui controlled him too strictly, and the people around him were only after the Qian family's power; none of them were sincere.

He was lonely and wanted to find someone he could speak his mind to.

When I appeared, he thought I was the one.

"Then be his friend. Treat him with sincerity."

Zhao Ying looked at Su Jiuge.

These words carried more weight coming from Su Jiuge than from anyone else.

On the 24th day of the twelfth lunar month, Qian Shaoqing came to the Yuelai Inn to find Zhao Ying.

They brought a jar of fine wine, saying it was the best aged wine from Qingjiang.

Zhao Ying opened the door and invited him in. The two sat by the window, drinking and chatting.

Qian Shaoqing said a lot—

They say his father was too strict with him, that he had no friends growing up, and that he liked knives but even more so, people who were good at wielding them.

Zhao Ying listened, occasionally agreeing and occasionally sighing, just as a true confidante should do.

Halfway through the meal, Qian Shaoqing suddenly asked:

"Brother Zhao, do you have someone you like?"

Zhao Ying paused slightly in the hand holding the wine glass.

A figure flashed through my mind, but I couldn't make out the face—

He had never seen this person before.

But he knew she was there.

He put down his wine glass and smiled.

"Yes. She doesn't know."

Qian Shaoqing looked at him.

Why didn't you tell her?

Zhao Ying remained silent for a moment.

"It's not the right time yet. I'll tell her after I've finished what I need to do."

Qian Shaoqing picked up his wine glass and drank it all in one gulp.

"Brother Zhao, you are a devoted lover."

Zhao Ying smiled but didn't reply.

On the 25th of the twelfth lunar month, Zhao Ying found a secret report in Qian Shaoqing's bedroom.

Qian Shaoqing got drunk, and Zhao Ying helped him to bed. While he was asleep, she discovered secret letters between Qian Shigui and the Crown Prince in a hidden compartment on his desk.

The letter was short, but every word was precious.

Qian Shigui promised to tie down the imperial forces in the southern border, and the crown prince promised to appoint Qian Shigui as the King of the Southern Border if the matter was accomplished.

Zhao Ying memorized the contents of the secret letter and put it back where it belonged.

Qian Shaoqing rolled over and muttered something under his breath:

"Brother Zhao...one more cup..."

Zhao Ying looked at him, covered him with the blanket, and turned to leave.

Su Jiuge finished reading the contents of the secret letter written by Zhao Yingmo.

"Qian Shigui is in cahoots with the Crown Prince."

Zhao Ying nodded.

This time, the Crown Prince's plan to send Su Jiuge away wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision; it was pre-arranged with Qian Shigui.

With Su Jiuge's arrival in the Southern Territory, the Crown Prince lost one rival in the court, while Qian Shigui gained another bargaining chip in the Southern Territory to deal with the imperial court. It was a win-win situation.

Su Jiuge folded the secret letter and tucked it into her waistband.

"The contents of this letter could bring down the Crown Prince in court. But now is not the time; we must continue our investigation."

Su Jiuge stood up and looked at the map.

They've figured out Qian Shigui's background and obtained evidence of his collusion with the Crown Prince.

Zhao Ying stood in front of the map, looking in the direction of Qingjiang City.

These past few days, he's been playing another version of himself—a version that isn't an assassin, a version that laughs, drinks, and calls people brothers. It's been as tiring as fighting a real battle.

But Qian Shaoqing was not a bad person.

He wasn't his friend; he lied to him.

He took advantage of him.

Zhao Ying clenched her fist, then relaxed it, turned around, and walked out.

The 26th day of the 12th month of the 18th year of Yong'an.

Qingjiang, Yuelai Inn.

Qian Shaoqing has come again.

This is the third time in five days.

He didn't bring any alcohol today, but he brought a knife.

The scabbard was black and undecorated, and the blade was narrow and straight, somewhat similar to Su Jiuge's.

Zhao Ying opened the door and saw the knife; her eyes lit up.

Qian Shaoqing stood at the door and raised the knife in his hand.

"Brother Zhao, let's not talk business or drink today, let's only discuss swords."

Zhao Ying stepped aside to let him in, her gaze never leaving the knife.

Qian Shaoqing placed the knife on the table very gently and slowly, as if he were handling a fragile treasure.

Zhao Ying sat down and examined the knife, reaching out to touch the scabbard.

It's not ordinary iron; it's cold iron, much heavier than ordinary iron, and several times sharper than ordinary swords. It's made of the same material as Su Jiuge's straight sword.

There are no more than five blacksmiths in the entire Liang Dynasty who can forge weapons made of cold iron. Who made this knife?

Qian Shaoqing smiled when he saw Zhao Ying's expression.

"Brother Zhao, you have a good eye. This knife was purchased by my father from a merchant in the Western Regions; it's said to be forged from meteorite iron. I've had it for three years, and I still haven't found a worthy opponent." He looked into Zhao Ying's eyes.

"Brother Zhao, where's your knife?"

Zhao Ying remained silent for a moment, then pulled a short blade from her boot.

The blade is short and narrow, with a thin, eerie sheen in the candlelight.

He usually only uses a short blade, whether for killing or sparring, he never uses any other weapons. This short blade has been with him for many years, he has killed many people, and it has never left his side.

Qian Shaoqing looked at the short blade, examining it from head to toe for a long time.

"A fine knife," he said.

Zhao Ying nodded.

"It's a good knife."