Nine Nights Owl Song

The Luoyang Prison was located in the southwest corner of the Imperial City, next to the Ministry of Justice. It was a square building made of bluestone, with high walls on all four sides, covered with iron spikes, and watchtowers at the four corners, guarded by soldiers day and night.

The prison has only one entrance, on the south side, with two heavy iron doors that require a winch to open.

Behind the iron gate was a long corridor, with densely packed cells on both sides, holding all kinds of prisoners—there were death row inmates awaiting execution in the autumn, suspects who had not yet been convicted, and important criminals of the imperial court who were being held in secret.

The person Xiao Yan asked Ajiu to save was named Shen Zhixing, an imperial censor from Jiangnan Circuit. He was imprisoned on the ground floor of the Luoyang prison for impeaching the second prince, Xiao Jingyan, for embezzling border military funds. He was placed in solitary confinement.

The Second Prince's men are fabricating evidence and plan to secretly execute him within half a month.

Shen Zhixing had an account book that meticulously recorded every transaction the Second Prince had made over the years, including embezzling military funds, reselling military rations, and colluding with smugglers in the northern border.

This ledger is the key evidence to bring down the Second Prince, and Shen Zhixing is the only one who knows its whereabouts.

Ajiu spent two days figuring out the layout of the Luojing prison, the pattern of guard shift changes, and every possible route in and out.

The defenses of Luoyang prison were far inferior to those of Zhao Tianhu's military camp, but there was a thorny problem—the prison was located on the edge of the imperial city, and if the guards were alerted, the imperial guards would arrive within half an incense stick's time.

With experts at the Core Formation Realm in the Imperial Guard, Ajiu's current strength is insufficient to confront them head-on.

Therefore, she needed to go in silently and come out silently.

October 20th, midnight.

Ajiu crawled into the drainage ditch on the north side of the prison. The drainage ditch in Luojing prison was a bit wider than the one in Yanzhou City, but it was no better. The sewage was waist-deep, rats scurried around on the pipes overhead, and occasionally an unknown insect would swim by, touch her leg, and then quickly swim away.

Ah Jiu walked through the sewage for about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea until he reached an iron fence.

The lock on the fence was rusted, but she tapped it lightly with the back of her knife and it broke.

She pushed the fence open a crack and crawled inside.

At the end of the drainage ditch was a water storage tank on the first basement floor of the prison.

Ah Jiu climbed out of the reservoir, squatted on the edge of the pool, and wrung out the dirty water from her body.

The night-clothes are specially made; they don't absorb water and dry quickly with a few wringing motions.

She pulled a black cloth from her waist, wrapped it around her wet hair, and then moved silently toward the depths of the cell, close to the wall.

The underground passage was much narrower than the ground floor, with thick stone walls on both sides. Every ten feet along the walls was an oil lamp, its dim light flickering in the damp air, illuminating the passage in a half-light, half-dark manner.

Every two lamps, a guard leans against the wall and dozes off.

The prison guards were divided into three shifts. Midnight was the time between shift changes. The old guards were already tired, and the new guards had not yet arrived, which was the most relaxed time.

As Ajiu passed by the first guard, he was dozing off with his head down, chin resting on his chest, breathing heavily. She didn't disturb him, silently slipping past him like a snake slithering through the grass.

The second guard was awake, but he was talking quietly to a prisoner in the next cell, his attention completely elsewhere. When Ah Jiu passed by him, he didn't even turn his head.

The third guard was not at his post—there was an empty wine jug on the ground in the corner, and the man was nowhere to be seen. Ajiu wasted no time and went straight over.

Shen Zhixing's cell was at the end of the corridor, a solitary room with three iron locks on the door, and a faint light shining through the crack in the door.

Ah Jiu took a thin wire from her sleeve, inserted it into the first keyhole, and gently turned it; the lock opened. The second key, three breaths. The third key, two breaths.

She pushed open the iron gate, slipped inside, and silently closed the door behind her.

The cell was small, about four steps square, with a stone bed, a wooden table, and a chair.

There was an oil lamp on the table, its wick already burned very low, with only a tiny flame the size of a soybean clinging to life.

A man in his forties sat on the stone bed. He had a thin face, high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a chin covered with bluish-gray stubble.

He was wearing a dirty prison uniform, with bloody marks from the shackles on his wrists and ankles.

But his eyes were bright, not with the sharpness of a martial artist, but with the clarity of a scholar, as if being locked up here for months had not dulled them.

Shen Zhixing looked at Ajiu without shouting or panicking, simply watching her quietly, as if trying to determine whether she was friend or foe.

"Shen Zhixing?" Ajiu asked.

"It's me." His voice was hoarse, but not trembling.

"Who are you?"

"The people who came to save you."

Ah Jiu walked up to him, squatted down, drew a straight knife from his waist, and aimed the tip at the iron shackles on his ankle.

The chains of the iron shackles were as thick as a thumb, made of fine iron, and could not be cut by ordinary knives.

But Ajiu's straight sword was no ordinary sword; it was quenched with a layer of cold iron, making it far sharper than ordinary weapons.

With a flick of her wrist, the blade struck the chain, sending sparks flying, and the chain snapped.

The shackles were broken, and the hand shackles were broken too.

Shen Zhixing moved his wrists, and the bones cracked. He had been sitting on the stone bed for too long, and his joints were stiff.

"Can we walk?" Ajiu asked.

"Yes." Shen Zhixing stood up, his legs were a little weak, and he had to hold onto the wall to steady himself.

"Stay close to me, don't make a sound, and don't fall behind."

Ah Jiu walked to the cell door, pushed it open a crack, and glanced outside.

The passageway was deserted. The third guard hadn't returned yet, and the other two remained in their original positions. She opened the door, slipped out, and Shen Zhixing followed behind.

When they reached the second guard, he was still talking to the prisoner and didn't notice the commotion behind him.

When they reached the first guard, the man was still dozing off, snoring loudly.

Ajiu led Shen Zhixing back to the reservoir.

She jumped in first, splashing water and wetting the edge of the pool.

Shen Zhixing hesitated for a moment, looking at the waist-deep sewage, a hint of disgust showing on his face.

"Jump," Ah Jiu said, her voice not loud, but unquestionable.

Shen Zhixing gritted his teeth and jumped down.

The sewage was up to his waist, and he shivered, but made no sound.

Ah Jiu led the way, and he followed behind. The two of them moved slowly forward in the dark drainage ditch, one in front and one behind.

The outlet is in a river outside Luojing City.

Ajiu climbed out of the water and reached out to pull Shen Zhixing ashore.

The two of them stood on the riverbank, soaked to the bone, as the night wind blew, chilling them to the bone.

Shen Zhixing trembled, his arms crossed, his lips turning purple, but he didn't complain. He just stood there, panting heavily.

"Where are the ledgers?" Ah Jiu asked.

Shen Zhixing looked at her, remained silent for a moment, and then said:

"At the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence."

A-Jiu's movements stopped.

She was wringing water out of her clothes, her fingers frozen in mid-air, completely motionless.

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice a few decibels lower than usual.

"The account books are in the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence."

Shen Zhixing repeated it.

"Before I went to prison, I entrusted the account books to Marquis Dingyuan, Su Zhentian. He is an old minister left by the late emperor, loyal and steadfast, and would not side with the second prince. The account books are safer in his hands than in mine."

Marquis of Dingyuan, Su Zhentian.

The Marquis of Dingyuan's Residence.

Her father.

Ajiu stood there, the night wind blowing her wet hair, which clung to her pale face.

Her eyes were fixed on Shen Zhixing, her gaze so sharp it seemed she wanted to dissect him.

"What is the relationship between Su Zhentian and the Second Prince?" she asked.

"It's alright," Shen Zhixing said.

"Lord Su is a neutral party member; he doesn't take sides or form factions, and he is loyal only to the imperial court. That's why I dared to entrust the account books to him."

Ajiu remained silent for a long time.

She remembered the old drunkard's dying words—

"You are from the Marquis of Dingyuan's household. You were born in the Marquis of Dingyuan's household on the ninth day of the twelfth lunar month in the first year of Yong'an. Your mother was Lady Shen, the Marquis's wife. You were switched at birth and thrown into a mass grave."

The Marquis of Dingyuan's Residence.

Her family.

A place she had never set foot in before.

Her father, her mother, her brothers and sisters—relatives she had never met and might never recognize.

Now, they've been drawn into this case.

No, I wasn't dragged into it.

It was Shen Zhixing who brought them in. The fact that the account books were in the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence meant that the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence had become a thorn in the Second Prince's side.

Once the Second Prince discovers the whereabouts of the account books, all several hundred people in the Marquis of Dingyuan's household will become his targets for annihilation.

Ajiu closed her eyes.

She cursed inwardly.

She didn't care about the fate of the Marquis of Dingyuan's mansion.

Those people had nothing to do with her; they had never raised her, never searched for her, and were unaware of her existence.

She has no obligation to protect them.

However, the account books are in the residence of the Marquis of Dingyuan.

The account books are key to bringing down the Second Prince, and bringing down the Second Prince is part of Xiao Yan's plan.

Only if Xiao Yan's plan succeeds can she obtain his promised support, fight against the Dark Pavilion and the Blood Hall, and avenge the old drunkard.

Therefore, she did not go to rescue the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence.

She went to get the account books.

Ajiu opened her eyes and looked at Shen Zhixing.

"Take me to the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence," she said.

Shen Zhixing looked at her, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes.

He didn't know why the assassin who came to rescue him reacted that way when he heard the words "Dingyuan Marquis's Mansion," but he didn't ask.

A wise person knows that some questions should not be asked.

They walked for half an hour, and when they arrived at the Marquis of Dingyuan's residence, it was still dark.

The Dingyuan Marquis's Mansion is located in Chongrenfang, east of Luoyang City. It covers an area of ​​forty acres and has three courtyards. It is made of blue bricks and gray tiles. There are two stone lions in front of the gate. The eyes of the stone lions are polished to a shine, which is the result of countless people touching them as they pass by.

The mansion gate was tightly closed, and a plaque hung above the gate with the four large characters "Dingyuan Marquis's Mansion" written in a vigorous and powerful style, which was personally inscribed by the late emperor.

Ajiu stood at the alley entrance opposite the mansion gate, staring at the plaque for a long time.

This was a scene that had appeared in her dreams countless times.

A very, very large door, with copper rings on it, engraved with patterns she had never seen before.

She stood outside the door, wanting to push it open and go in, but every time her hand touched the door knocker, the door disappeared.

The door hasn't disappeared. It's still there, real and tangible, with its blue bricks, gray tiles, copper rings, and vermilion lacquer, exactly the same as in her dream.

"Climb over the wall and get in," Ajiu said, turning her gaze away, her voice returning to its usual coldness.

"Don't alert anyone, just take the ledger and leave."

Shen Zhixing shook his head: "Lord Su wouldn't just leave the account books lying around. I must see him and explain the situation to him in person before he will hand over the account books."

Ajiu looked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

Are you sure?

"Sure."

Ah Jiu was silent for a moment, then said, "I'll go in with you. Once we get the account books, I'll take you away. Don't say anything unnecessary, and don't do anything unnecessary."

She led Shen Zhixing around to the side of the Marquis's residence, found a corner where no patrolling watchmen passed by, and climbed over the wall to enter.

The wall of the Marquis's mansion was less than 15 feet high, which was easy for Ajiu to walk on. She climbed up first, made sure there was no danger inside the wall, and then reached out to pull Shen Zhixing up. The two of them landed silently in the garden inside the wall.

The garden is not large, but it is exquisitely laid out, complete with artificial hills, streams, stone bridges, and pavilions.

Although it was late autumn, a few chrysanthemums were still blooming in the garden at night, their petals glistening with dew and shimmering with a faint white light under the moonlight.

Shen Zhixing knew the way. He led Ajiu through the garden, around a rockery, and across a covered walkway, until they arrived at the main house of the second courtyard on the central axis of the Hou Mansion.

This is the study of Marquis Dingyuan, Su Zhentian.

The lights were still on in the study.

Ah Jiu's ears twitched slightly.

She heard two people in the study—one with steady, long breaths, a martial artist, probably Su Zhentian. The other's breathing was lighter and finer, carrying a barely perceptible weakness, like someone in poor health.

Shen Zhixing stepped forward and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" A middle-aged man's voice came from inside, deep and alert.

"Lord Su, it is I, Shen Zhixing."

There was a moment of silence in the study, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

The door opened from the inside, and a man in his forties stood in the doorway. He had a square face, thick eyebrows, and a resolute expression. He was wearing a dark-colored house robe with a cloth belt tied around his waist.

His gaze first fell on Shen Zhixing, then quickly shifted to Ajiu, looking her up and down.

This is Su Zhentian. Marquis of Dingyuan, her father.

Ajiu looked at him, her heartbeat unchanged.

Su Zhentian was older than she had imagined.

It's not age that's the problem, it's the weariness of life.

His temples were already white, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deep, as if they had been repeatedly folded by something. His hands were calloused, the result of years of holding a knife, but his posture was not like that of a military general—his left leg was slightly bent, as if it had been injured and could not be fully straightened.

"Lord Shen, you've escaped from prison?" Su Zhentian lowered his voice, his tone filled with surprise but not blame.

"Someone rescued me." Shen Zhixing stepped aside, making way for Ajiu behind him.

"This is the young lady."

Su Zhentian's gaze fell on Ajiu again, this time lingering longer.

His gaze shifted from alertness to scrutiny, and then from scrutiny to something as if he were trying to identify a vague memory.

"The young lady is...?"

"The one who took the account books," Ah Jiu interrupted him.

"Where are the ledgers?"

Su Zhentian frowned, did not answer, and turned to Shen Zhixing:

"Can this girl be trusted?"

Shen Zhixing hesitated for a moment, glanced at Ajiu, and then said:

"She risked her life to rescue me from the Luojing prison. If she wanted to harm me, she could have done so while I was still in prison."

Su Zhentian was silent for a moment, then stepped aside to clear the doorway:

"Come in."

The study was small, with bookshelves on three walls, filled with books and official documents.

In the very center was a rosewood desk, on which lay an unfinished memorial, the ink still wet.

Behind the desk stood a woman, around forty years old, with a dignified face and graceful demeanor. She wore a lotus-colored jacket, and her hair was tied up with a jade hairpin, with a few strands falling beside her ears.

Her face was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept well for a long time.

This is Lady Shen, the wife of Su Zhentian.

Ajiu's mother.

Ajiu's gaze lingered on Shen's face for a moment.

That glance was so brief, so fleeting, that no one noticed. But in that instant, she saw Shen's features—the curve of her brow bone, the height of her nose, the thickness of her lips. She had seen those features in the mirror before; they were exactly the same on her face.

She is the daughter of the Shen family.

This doesn't require any evidence. Her face is the evidence.

Ajiu looked away.

"Madam, please step aside for a moment," Su Zhentian said to Madam Shen.

Madam Shen glanced at Ajiu, nodded, and walked out from behind her desk toward the door.

As she passed Ah Jiu, she paused for a moment, as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately said nothing and walked out. The door closed behind her.

Su Zhentian walked behind the desk, squatted down, and took out a box wrapped in oilcloth from a hidden compartment under the desk, placing it on the table.

The box was small, about a foot square, made of wood, and had no markings on its surface.

He opened the box, inside was a thick ledger with a blue cover and worn edges, as if it had been read many times.

"These are the account books that Lord Shen entrusted to me for safekeeping," Su Zhentian said, taking the account books out of the box and placing them on the table.

"All the evidence of the Second Prince embezzling border military funds is in there. Every single instance is crystal clear."

Ah Jiu reached out to take the account book.

Su Zhentian placed his hand on the account book, blocking her view.

"Young lady." He looked at A-Jiu, his gaze steady and firm.

"I can give you the ledgers, but you must tell me who you are, who you work for, and where the ledgers are to be sent."

Ajiu looked at the hand resting on the account book—its knuckles were distinct, its fingers long and slender, and calloused at the base of its thumb; it was a hand that had wielded a knife for many years. She didn't answer Su Zhentian's question, but instead asked him a question in return:

Why are you helping Shen Zhixing?

Su Zhentian was taken aback by her question, paused for a moment, and then said:

"Because he was a loyal subject."

"A loyal subject?" Ajiu's voice carried a hint of almost imperceptible sarcasm.

"Does the Great Liang still have loyal ministers?"

"Yes," Su Zhentian said.

"Not many, but there are some."

Ajiu looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then said:

"My name is Night Owl. I work for the Thousand Machines Pavilion. The account books need to be delivered to the Sixth Prince, Xiao Yan."

Su Zhentian's pupils contracted slightly.

"The Sixth Prince?" he repeated, his voice clearly showing surprise.

"That good-for-nothing playboy?"

Ajiu looked at him, her lips twitching slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was a smile.

"He's not a piece of trash," she said.

Su Zhentian stared at her for a long time, then slowly released his hand from the account book.

Ajiu picked up the account book and stuffed it into her bosom.

"Let's go," she said to Shen Zhixing.

Shen Zhixing cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to Su Zhentian:

"Lord Su, I am deeply grateful and will not thank you enough. Until we meet again."

Su Zhentian nodded, his gaze shifting from Shen Zhixing to Ajiu, lingering on her face for a long time.

He looked at her face as if he were looking at a familiar painting, feeling like he had seen it somewhere before, but he just couldn't remember where.

"girl."

Just as Ajiu turned to leave, Su Zhentian suddenly spoke.

"How old are you?"

A-Jiu paused for a moment.

"Sixteen," she said.

"Sixteen." Su Zhentian repeated the number, his eyes suddenly becoming somewhat unfocused.

"I also have a daughter, who would be sixteen this year if she were still alive."

The study was quiet for a moment.

Ajiu did not turn around.

She pushed open the door and went out.

Outside the door, Madam Shen was still standing under the eaves, not having gone far.

She leaned against a pillar, her hands clasped in front of her, her fingers twisting a handkerchief as if waiting for something.

When she saw Ajiu come out, her gaze immediately fell on her face, and a light suddenly shone in her somewhat tired eyes.

It's like the light a mother gives when she sees her child.

Ah Jiu walked past her without looking at her.

Shen Zhi walked behind, nodded slightly to Madam Shen, and then followed Ajiu into the shadows of the garden.

Shen stood under the eaves, looking in the direction where Ajiu had disappeared, and remained motionless for a long time.

"Zhentian," she suddenly spoke, her voice trembling slightly.

"Don't you think that girl's appearance...?"

Su Zhentian came out of the study and stood beside her without saying a word.

"Her features are exactly the same as mine when I was young." Madam Shen's voice grew softer and softer, almost as if she were talking to herself.

"Do you think it's possible that...?"

"Madam," Su Zhentian interrupted her, his voice low and restrained.

"Our daughter died sixteen years ago."

Shen closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks and silently dripping onto the bluestone slabs under the eaves.

Su Zhentian reached out and took her hand.

Both of their hands were cold; neither could offer the other warmth.

At the other end of the garden, Ajiu led Shen Zhixing over the wall of the Marquis's mansion and landed in an alley outside.

The account book was heavy in her arms, like a red-hot iron, burning her chest with pain.

Shen Zhixing noticed her unusual behavior.

"Young lady, are you alright?" he asked.

Ajiu didn't answer. She stood in the alley, leaning against the cold wall, looking up at the moon in the sky.

The moon was round and bright, like a cold eye, watching over all the joys and sorrows of humankind.

"Let's go," she said.

She turned around and walked towards the Shili Pavilion. Shen Zhixing followed behind without asking any further questions.

The account book was in his arms, next to the wooden box and the gold medal; the three things were huddled together, colliding with each other and making a soft sound.

As Ah Jiu walked along, she suddenly remembered something.

Su Zhentian said that he has a daughter who would be sixteen years old this year if she were still alive.

He didn't know that his daughter was not dead.

His daughter was walking in the alley outside his manor, carrying an account book that could decide the life and death of countless people in her arms, wearing a night outfit soaked in sewage, and a knife that had drunk the blood of countless people at her waist.

His daughter's name is Night Owl.

Ajiu quickened her pace.

Xiao Yan was waiting for her.

The ledger was in her hands.

From tonight onwards, the Marquis of Dingyuan's mansion will be unable to extricate itself from this vortex.

She didn't care whether they lived or died.

But she knew that from now on, the affairs of the Marquis of Dingyuan's mansion were her affairs.

It wasn't because she wanted to acknowledge them, but because they had something she wanted. They were involved in the case she was handling, and they and she were connected by an invisible thread.

That thread is called bloodline.

Ah Jiu doesn't like this thread.

But she can't let go of it yet.

Someday.

She told herself that one day she would cut all the threads, live a clean life, owe no one anything, and be owed nothing by anyone.

But for now, she can only move forward.

Upon reaching Shili Pavilion, hand the account book to Xiao Yan, and then await the next task: kill the next person.

This is her life.

This is the path she chose.

There is no turning back.