Nine Nights Owl Song

On the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month of the eighteenth year of Yong'an, on New Year's Eve, in Qingjiang City.

Zhao Ying was at the Yuelai Inn, and Qian Shaoqing was opposite him.

The two men sat facing each other, drinking wine, while fireworks burst one after another outside the window. They clinked glasses under the fireworks.

Zhao Ying did not tell Qian Shaoqing who he was, and Qian Shaoqing did not ask.

Some things don't need to be said explicitly; tacit understanding is enough.

The first day of the first month of the nineteenth year of Yong'an.

Qingjiang, Yuelai Inn.

On the first day of the new year, Qingjiang City was still immersed in the afterglow of New Year's Eve.

The streets were covered with firecracker debris, and the air was thick with the smell of sulfur.

Children dressed in new clothes chased and played at the alley entrance, while adults carried gift boxes to visit relatives and friends.

Su Jiuge stood by the window of the inn, looking at the bustling scene on the street below.

Winters in the South are much warmer than in Los Angeles. There is no snow, no biting north wind, only a damp chill seeping up from the ground.

She was dressed in a dark blue, close-fitting outfit, with a straight sword hanging at her waist. She didn't return to Luoyang on New Year's Eve; this was the first time she had spent the New Year away from home.

Zhao Ying sat at the table wiping her short blade, her movements much slower than usual.

Su Jiuge noticed this but didn't say anything.

Some things you have to figure out yourself; no matter how much others say, it's useless.

"Sect Master," Zhao Ying suddenly spoke.

Su Jiuge turned around and looked at him.

"I think it's time to settle things with Qian Shaoqing." Zhao Ying's voice was calm, and her fingers, which were wiping the dagger, paused for a moment.

Su Jiuge looked into his eyes. There was no cynical mockery or ruthless cunning in those eyes, only a seriousness she had never seen on Zhao Ying's face before.

"How do you want to end this?"

Zhao Ying remained silent for a moment.

"Give him the truth."

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, at the Qian residence.

Qian Shaoqing was wiping the cold iron knife in the dormitory courtyard.

I drank with Zhao Ying until midnight on New Year's Eve, and I couldn't fall asleep after I got back.

He was thinking about Zhao Ying—his swordsmanship was excellent, he could hold his liquor well, and he was witty. He didn't ask who his father was or whether he had money.

Being with him is very relaxing; I don't have to put on airs or worry about being schemed against.

He claimed to be in the silk business, but that was a lie.

His swordsmanship was far superior to mine, at least at the Core Formation stage.

A master at the Core Formation Realm could not possibly be a merchant who deals in silk.

Qian Shaoqing put down his knife and looked out the window. The plum blossoms in the garden were in bloom, bright red, like clusters of burning fire.

"Zhao Ying, who exactly are you?"

"He's from the Dark Pavilion." A voice came from outside the door.

Qian Shaoqing gripped the hilt of the knife tightly.

The door was pushed open.

Su Jiuge stood at the door, dressed in a dark blue outfit, with a straight sword hanging at her waist.

Zhao Ying stood behind her, looking at Qian Shaoqing with a complicated expression.

Qian Shaoqing's gaze moved from Su Jiuge's face to Zhao Ying's face, and then back from Zhao Ying to Su Jiuge.

He recognized the knife—a straight knife, narrow and straight, with a black lacquered scabbard. Only one person in the entire Liang Dynasty used this kind of knife.

Su Jiuge entered the room, Zhao Ying followed behind, and the door closed behind them.

"Who are you?" Qian Shaoqing looked at Su Jiuge, his fingers gripping the hilt of his knife tightly.

"Sect Master of the Dark Pavilion, General Anxi of the Imperial Court, Princess Consort of the Sixth Prince, I am Su Jiuge."

Su Jiuge sat down in the chair and looked at Qian Shaoqing.

"Zhao Ying is the Dark Pavilion's top assassin, and she was ordered by me to approach you."

Qian Shaoqing's expression did not change.

He already knew; he knew Zhao Ying wasn't in the silk business from the first time he appeared at Zuixianlou.

In the tiny city of Qingjiang, a stranger arrived. His father was a military governor, so it was impossible for his son not to know him.

He had someone investigate Zhao Ying's background, but they couldn't find any information about her, no records of trade routes, or proof that she was running a silk business in Luoyang.

Zhao Ying seems to have appeared out of nowhere, and there are only two possibilities for why his background is so unclear—either he is a genuine ordinary person, or his identity has been deliberately concealed.

Zhao Ying's swordsmanship told him that he was no ordinary person.

From that day on, he knew that Zhao Ying had ulterior motives for approaching him, but he didn't expose her.

Qian Shaoqing looked at Zhao Ying.

"I know you're not a businessman. I'm not waiting for you to tell me this on your own initiative, I'm waiting for you to consider me a friend." Qian Shaoqing's voice was hoarse.

"I know you consider me a friend. When we're drinking, discussing knives, or admiring the view from the mountaintop, you're sincere. I can tell."

Zhao Ying's eyes reddened.

Su Jiuge looked at Qian Shaoqing, then at Zhao Ying.

"I need your help. Not to betray your father, but to save him. The court already knows about his collusion with the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince can't protect him; only the court can."

Su Jiuge took out the secret letter from the waist seal—the contents of the secret letter between Qian Shigui and the Crown Prince that Zhao Ying had seen in the hidden compartment of Qian Shaoqing's desk. The letter was written very clearly.

Qian Shaoqing looked at the letter.

"You saw it in the hidden compartment of my desk?"

Zhao Ying's voice was a little strained.

"The night you got drunk."

Qian Shaoqing fell silent.

He got drunk that day, and Zhao Ying helped him to bed. He thought Zhao Ying had left, but unexpectedly, he rummaged through a hidden compartment in the desk.

He should have realized it sooner. A top assassin from the Dark Pavilion approaching the son of a military governor couldn't be doing it just to drink and chat with him. He had his mission, his duty. He was a member of the Dark Pavilion, not Zhao Ying, but a top assassin of the Dark Pavilion.

Qian Shaoqing clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it.

"What do you want me to do?"

Su Jiuge looked at him.

"More than one person in the court knows about Qian Shigui's collusion with the Crown Prince. As long as the Crown Prince doesn't fall, Qian Shigui will be silenced sooner or later. Once the Crown Prince falls, Qian Shigui will be an accomplice."

She took a folded booklet from her waistband and placed it on the table.

"This is a secret memorial from the Sixth Prince, Xiao Yan. As long as Qian Shigui voluntarily surrenders to the court and relinquishes his military power in Qingjiang Town, the court will not hold him accountable for his past actions. Qian Shigui will remain the military governor of Qingjiang, and Qingjiang will still be under the Qian family's control. The court will not send any officials, collect any taxes, or station any troops. It will be the same as before, only nominally submitting to the court."

Qian Shaoqing looked at the folded document.

The sixth prince, Xiao Yan, was the pacification commissioner of the northern border and the most unassuming prince in the court.

He had heard before that he was a good-for-nothing, but now he knows he is not.

A good-for-nothing couldn't write such a memorial, and a good-for-nothing wouldn't dare promise that the court wouldn't send officials, collect taxes, or station troops.