Nine Nights Owl Song

The scorpion is dead.

His body lay on the rubble at the bottom of the ravine, in a contorted position that no living person could possibly be in.

A deep gash was cut into his neck, and the blood had already drained, soaking into the sand beneath him and leaving a dark red, damp stain.

His eyes were still open, his pupils dilated to almost fill his entire eye sockets, frozen with the fear of his last moments before death.

He couldn't understand how a mid-stage Transformation Realm assassin could suddenly accelerate so fast that he had no time to react just before his fingernail pierced her skin.

Su Jiuge knelt beside the scorpion's corpse, panting heavily.

There was a faint bloodstain on her left arm, which the scorpion had scratched with its fingernail before it died.

The wound wasn't deep; it only broke the skin a little, and a few drops of blood seeped out.

But those few drops of blood were black.

The scorpion's claws are highly venomous; if the skin is broken, death is imminent—this is what Bai Yu's intelligence report stated.

Su Jiuge looked down at the black bloodstain on her left arm, glanced at it, then took out a short knife from her waist and, without hesitation, cut off a small piece of flesh around the wound.

The knife tip cut into her flesh. She gritted her teeth, the veins on her forehead bulged, and sweat streamed down her face, but she didn't make a sound.

She ripped the flesh off and threw it on the ground. The black blood droplets turned bright red, and fresh blood gushed from the wound, flowing down her forearm and dripping onto the gravel.

Blood Blade stood not far away, holding his horse-slaying sword, watching her cut her flesh to heal her wounds, without taking the opportunity to attack.

It wasn't because he valued martial ethics; it was because he was intimidated. It wasn't that he hadn't seen ruthless people before; what kind of ruthless people hadn't he seen in the Blood Hall?

But he had never met anyone like that before.

A sixteen-year-old girl cuts flesh from her own body as if it were a piece of dead pig meat, without even flinching. This ruthlessness isn't something you learn; it's innate, ingrained in your bones.

The ghostly figure hung motionless on the ten-zhang-high stone wall. She had been pinned there by the arrow from the top of the ravine.

The moment she moves, that arrow will shoot from who-knows-where.

She wasn't afraid of the arrow—she could dodge it before it hit her. But what she feared was the opening she'd create in that split second.

Su Jiuge was waiting for her to make a mistake. In just a moment, she would fall off the stone wall and into Su Jiuge's blade.

Su Jiuge stood up.

Her left arm was still bleeding, but she could no longer feel the pain. Under the combined effects of adrenaline and internal energy, her body entered a state beyond pain.

She held the knife, its blade still stained with scorpion blood, which dripped down onto the gravel with a soft, ticking sound.

She looked at the blood-stained knife.

Blood Blade looked at Su Jiuge.

Neither of them spoke.

Blood Blade's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

His hand holding the broadsword was trembling slightly.

It's not fear, it's an instinctive physiological reaction.

His body was telling him: This person is dangerous, much more dangerous than Chen Beixuan said.

Chen Beixuan said that Night Owl was at the mid-stage of the Transformation Realm and that one person could deal with him.

Chen Beixuan was wrong. Utterly wrong.

Su Jiuge took a step toward him.

Blood Blade took a step back.

A top assassin at the late stage of the Transformation Realm was forced back a step by a sixteen-year-old girl at the mid-stage of the Transformation Realm.

If this got out, Blood Blade would be finished. But he backed down because he didn't want to die.

"Ghostly Shadow!" Blood Blade's voice was tense.

"Come down and help!"

There was no response from the stone wall.

"Ghostly!"

Still no response.

Blood Blade raised his head and saw that the ghostly figure was still hanging in the same spot, motionless.

He suddenly understood—the ghost wouldn't come down. Not because she couldn't come down, but because she didn't want to.

She witnessed Su Jiuge's fatal blow to the scorpion, and she didn't want to become the second one.

Blood Blade gritted his teeth and gripped the horse-slaying sword tightly.

He is the hammer, and the hammer's destiny is to smash. Whether it breaks or not, it must still smash.

He rushed forward.

The saber, accompanied by a whistling sound, slashed towards Su Jiuge's head.

He used all his strength in this strike; before the blade even arrived, the wind from it had already scattered the pebbles on the ground.

Su Jiuge didn't take the blow head-on. She dodged to the side, and the saber slashed at the spot where she had just stood, sending shards of stone flying and carving a half-foot-deep trench in the ground.

Blood Blade's second strike followed immediately with a horizontal sweep.

Su Jiuge ducked down and slipped under the blade, thrusting her straight sword toward Blood Blade's side.

He parried the blood-stained knife with the hilt, the tip of which grazed the hilt, leaving a bloody mark on the back of his hand.

The two men clashed and fought fiercely on the flat ground at the bottom of the ravine. Their blades flashed and sparks flew.

Blood Blade's every strike was powerful and heavy, while Su Jiuge's every strike was fast and accurate.

Ten moves, twenty moves, thirty moves.

Su Jiuge's speed began to slow down.

It wasn't because she was tired—although she was indeed tired, her left arm was still bleeding, and the blood loss was making her body feel cold—but because the Blood Blade had adapted to her rhythm.

The internal energy of a late-stage Transformation Realm cultivator is nearly twice as strong as that of a mid-stage Transformation Realm cultivator. Blood Blade can maintain this high-intensity attack indefinitely, while Su Jiuge's internal energy is being rapidly depleted. At this rate, she can only last for another fifty moves at most before her internal energy runs out.

She needs to act quickly.

When the blood-red blade struck for the forty-seventh time, Su Jiuge did not dodge.

She stood there, motionless, watching the saber come crashing down on her shoulder.

Blood Blade paused for a moment.

He didn't understand why Su Jiuge didn't hide.

But he had no time to think; the knife had already come down—

The sword cleaved into Su Jiuge's left shoulder.

The blade was embedded in the bone, stuck in the shoulder blade.

Blood gushed out, splattering all over Blood Blade's face.

Su Jiuge gritted her teeth and didn't make a sound. Her right hand gripped the straight sword, and at the same moment the saber struck her shoulder, she thrust the straight sword into the chest of the blood-stained sword.

The knife tip pierced between the ribs, precisely through the heart, and emerged from the back, with drops of blood and bits of flesh clinging to the tip.

Blood Blade's eyes widened suddenly, his pupils shrinking to the size of pinpoints.

He looked down at the knife stuck in his chest, then looked up at Su Jiuge.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but blood welled up in his throat, silencing him.

He slowly loosened his grip on the horse-slaying saber, and the saber slipped from his hand, falling down along with the blade embedded in Su Jiuge's shoulder bone, tearing the wound open even wider.

Su Jiuge swayed and almost fell.

She gritted her teeth, pulled out the straight knife, and left a dark, gaping wound on her chest, from which blood gushed out.

Blood Blade's body slowly collapsed like a mountain, crashing to the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

His eyes were still open, his pupils were dilated, a trace of blood foam hung from the corner of his mouth, and the expression on his face was frozen in the moment before his death—unwillingness.

He was unwilling to die at the hands of someone weaker than himself.

Su Jiuge stood there, covered in blood.

His left shoulder was cleaved open by the sword, revealing his shoulder blade, which was white and showed the marks of the blade.

Blood gushed from the wound, flowing down his left arm, past his wrist, past his fingertips, and dripping onto the gravel.

Her clothes were soaked in blood, turning black and clinging to her body, making it impossible to distinguish which blood was from the scorpion, which from the blood-stained knife, and which was her own.

She looked up at the ghostly figures on the stone wall.

The ghostly figure still hung there, motionless.

Her face was covered by a black veil, so her expression couldn't be seen, but her eyes looked at Su Jiuge through the veil, and the look in those eyes had changed.

It wasn't fear, but something deeper than fear—awe.

A mid-stage Transformation Realm assassin, single-handedly, killed two late-stage Transformation Realm experts.

This person is not human, he is a monster.

Su Jiuge looked at her and spoke.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear:

"Go back and tell Chen Beixuan. I'll get his head sooner or later. Tell him to wash his neck clean and wait."

The ghost did not answer.

She slid silently down the rock face, landed at the bottom of the ravine, took one last look at Su Jiuge, then turned and disappeared into the shadows at the mouth of the ravine.

Her footsteps grew fainter and fainter until they were swallowed up by the wind.

The bottom of the ravine fell silent.

There was only the sound of the wind and Su Jiuge's heavy breathing.

Su Jiuge stood there, staring in the direction the ghostly figure had disappeared, without moving for a long time.

Only after confirming that she was truly gone and would not be coming back did Su Jiuge's body begin to sway.

She had lost too much blood; blood was still gushing from the wound on her left shoulder. Her vision blurred in waves, her ears were ringing, and the ground beneath her feet seemed to be shaking.

She staggered and knelt on one knee.

The knife slipped from his hand and fell onto the gravel with a crisp sound.

She reached out to pick it up, but her fingers couldn't reach the hilt.

"Sister Jiuge..."

Su Chengzhi's voice came from afar, urgent and panicked.

He ran down from the top of the ravine, his dark blue robe covered in dust and gravel. He still held the crossbow in his hand, the wound on his fingers reopened, blood and sweat mingling, making the handle of the crossbow slippery.

He was running very fast when he tripped and fell on the road, hitting his knee on a stone. He winced in pain, but he didn't stop. He got up and kept running.

He ran to Su Jiuge's side, squatted down, and reached out to help her.

His hand touched her shoulder, feeling the warm, sticky blood on his hand. In an instant, all the color drained from his face.

"You're hurt," he said, his voice trembling.

Su Jiuge did not answer.

She lowered her head, breathing heavily, her chest heaving violently.

Her consciousness was gradually fading, and her vision was gradually shrinking, as if someone had drawn a black curtain from all directions.

Su Chengzhi tore off his sleeve and hurriedly wrapped it around Su Jiuge's wound.

He didn't know how to bandage it—

He had only ever bandaged the finger he cut himself while practicing swordsmanship; he had never treated such a serious injury before.

His hands were trembling; he wrapped the cloth around her and then loosened it again. He was afraid of hurting her if he used too much force, and he wouldn't be able to stop the bleeding if he used too little.

Su Jiuge used the last of her strength to reach out and press his hand down.

"Tighten it," she said, her voice as soft as a wisp of smoke.

"A strangulation knot".

Su Chengzhi gritted his teeth, tightened the cloth strip, and tied a knot that wouldn't come off.

Su Jiuge's body tensed up for a moment, then went limp.

She rested her head on Su Chengzhi's shoulder and closed her eyes.

Su Chengzhi held her tightly, afraid to move.

He didn't know if she was still awake, whether he should talk to her, or whether he should pick her up and carry her away.

There was nothing he could do but kneel there, letting her lean on his shoulder and listening to her increasingly weak breathing.

"Sister Jiuge," he called softly, his voice hoarse.

"Talk to me. Don't sleep. Talk to me."

Su Jiuge did not answer.

"Talk to me." His voice grew softer and softer, almost as if he were talking to himself.

"You haven't called me 'Big Brother' yet. That day you called Chengzhi 'Big Brother,' but not me. Call me 'Big Brother.' Once you do, I won't be afraid anymore."

Su Jiuge's eyelashes trembled slightly.

"Big brother," she said.

Su Chengzhi's tears fell.

He didn't know why he was crying.

He was not a person who cried easily. He was ostracized, looked down upon, and told that "a child born out of wedlock is a child born out of wedlock" in the Ministry of War, but he never cried.

Even when he was suppressed by Aunt Zhou in the Marquis's mansion and treated as a member of the Zhou family by everyone, he never cried.

At this moment, he knelt on the broken stones of Eagle's Sorrow Stream, covered in blood, holding his younger sister whom he had only recently met, crying like a child.

"I'll take you back." He wiped away his tears and carefully carried Su Jiuge on his back.

"I'll take you home."

He carried her on his back, walking step by step towards the outside of the ravine.

Su Jiuge lay on his back, blood still seeping from the wound on his left shoulder. The blood flowed down his back, spreading a dark red map on his dark blue short-sleeved brown clothes.

She was very light, lighter than a sixteen-year-old girl. Su Chengzhi carried her on his back, walking steadily, each step firm and deliberate. He was afraid of dropping her.

As they walked out of Eagle's Sorrow Gorge, the sunlight shone on the two of them.

Su Jiuge's eyes twitched, but she didn't open them.

She felt warmth, the warmth of the sun on her skin.

There is also a kind of unfamiliar warmth—

It came from the person who carried her on his back.

It was something she didn't know what to call it.

Su Jiuge buried her face in Su Chengzhi's shoulder and smelled the blood, sweat, and a faint scent like pine wood.

She didn't know what kind of fragrance it was.

The road back to Luoyang is long.

Su Chengzhi carried her for more than an hour without stopping to rest.

His legs were trembling, his knee was still aching, and his arms were so sore they were almost numb.

But he didn't stop, because he was afraid that if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to walk anymore.

As they approached the south gate, Su Jiuge finally opened her eyes.

She saw the towering city walls of Luojing, the pedestrians coming and going at the city gate, and Su Chengzhi's hair, damp with sweat at the back of his head.

"Big brother..." she said softly.

Su Chengzhi stumbled and almost fell, but his hands instinctively tightened, holding her even more firmly on his back.

He stood there, panting heavily, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"Yes," he said. "I'm here."

Su Jiuge closed her eyes and was plunged into darkness once again.

Her lips twitched slightly, not in a smile, but in something she couldn't quite explain herself.

It's like the cracks on the ice have widened, like the rock candy in my arms has warmed up a little, like someone who has walked in darkness for sixteen years has finally seen the light—not that it's farther away, but that it's closer.

Su Chengzhi carried her into the south gate of Luojing City.

The soldier at the city gate glanced at the young man covered in blood and the girl on his back, who was also covered in blood. He opened his mouth as if to ask something, but when he saw the Ministry of War badge on Su Chengzhi's waist, he shut his mouth again.

Upon entering the city gate, Su Chengzhi had a soldier call a carriage. He endured the pain and carried Su Jiuge into the carriage, urging the driver to speed up.

He suddenly felt that the road was very, very long.

They crossed South Gate Street, passed through West Market, went through the gate of Chongrenfang, walked past the main gate of Dingyuan Marquis's Mansion, and stopped at the side gate.

When Uncle Fu saw them, he dropped the broom in his hand.

He opened his mouth wide, trying to call out, but couldn't; it felt like something was choking him.

He stumbled in and ran to deliver the message.

When Su Chengzhi carried Su Jiuge into the Marquis's mansion, the entire mansion was in an uproar.

Shen ran out of the main hall, tripped over her skirt, and fell. She got up and continued running. When she reached Su Chengzhi, she saw Su Jiuge lying on his back, covered in blood. Her face was as white as paper, her lips were trembling violently, and she couldn't utter a single word.

Su Zhentian rushed out of the study and his face darkened when he saw the haphazardly bandaged strip of cloth on Su Jiuge's left shoulder and the blood seeping from beneath it.

Without saying a word, he stepped forward, took Su Jiuge from Su Chengzhi's back, held her in his arms, and strode towards the backyard.

"Call a doctor!!!!" His voice boomed like thunder across the Marquis's residence.

"Quickly, go and call a doctor!"

The servants were in a panic; some ran to fetch a doctor, some ran to boil water, and some ran to find medicine for the wounds.

The Marquis's residence was like a pot of boiling porridge, teeming with people, sounds, and hurried footsteps.

Su Chengzhi stood in the courtyard, watching Su Zhentian carry Su Jiuge and disappear behind the moon gate in the backyard.

His legs finally gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

He looked down at the blood covering him—her blood—and at how the bloodstains on his short brown shirt had mostly dried, turning a dark brown, in patches like mountains marked on a map.

Shen knelt down, grasped his hand, and her voice trembled: "Chengzhi, Jiuge... she might not..."

"No." Su Chengzhi raised his head, looking at Madam Shen. His eyes were still red, but his voice was firm.

"She won't die, she promised me."

Shen's tears fell, but she didn't ask any more questions. She simply held Su Chengzhi's hand, sat down next to him, and waited together.

Waiting for Su Jiuge to walk out of that room alive.