Nine Nights Owl Song

Su Jiuge stayed in the Marquis's residence for five days.

The wound on my left shoulder has started to scab over. The new skin is tender, red, and itchy, like countless ants crawling under my skin.

The doctor came to change the dressing every day, and he would always stroke his beard and marvel at how quickly the wound healed, saying that martial arts practitioners have vigorous blood and energy, and recover much faster than ordinary people.

Shen stayed by her bedside every day, bringing her soup and medicine, and showing concern for her well-being.

Every day after court, Su Chengzhi would come over and sit for a while, without saying a word, just sitting there like a motionless statue.

Su Chengen would come every few days, bringing some fresh seasonal fruit each time. He would smile and ask her if her wound still hurt, if she wanted to change her lying position, and if there was anything she wanted to eat.

Su Chengxun came twice, but each time he stood at the door, too afraid to come in. He would put the things he brought on the threshold and then run away quickly.

Su Jiuge didn't know how to react to the care these people showed her.

She is not used to being taken care of.

If you get injured in the Dark Pavilion, you have to bandage yourself and heal yourself. No one will bring you soup or medicine, and no one will ask if you're in pain. She felt something that made her uncomfortable all over, like wearing ill-fitting clothes, making her feel awkward everywhere.

She neither refused nor accepted; she simply let it all happen, like a fish washed ashore, lying on the beach, letting the waves lap against her body.

On the sixth day, Su Wan'er arrived.

Su Jiuge was leaning against the headboard, drinking her medicine.

The medicine was still very bitter, but she was used to it. She tilted her head back and gulped it down, then placed the empty bowl on the table without changing her expression.

Hearing faint footsteps coming from the doorway, her ears twitched slightly—it wasn't Shen's footsteps. Shen walked steadily and slowly, each step carrying a reassuring sense of security.

It wasn't Su Chengzhi. Su Chengzhi walked with large, hurried strides, as if he had an endless road to travel.

It wasn't Su Chengen. Su Chengen walked at a steady pace, each step perfectly in sync with the rhythm, like a smooth melody.

The footsteps outside were light and fragmented, like a timid rabbit, taking two steps and then stopping, taking two steps and then stopping again, hesitating for a long time, unsure whether to come in or not.

Su Jiuge knew who it was.

She didn't speak or look at the door; she just leaned against the headboard, closed her eyes, and waited.

The door was pushed open.

Su Wan'er stood at the door, carrying a food box in her hand. She was wearing a pale yellow jacket, and her hair was adorned with no pearl flowers, only a silver hairpin. Her face was unmade-up.

Her eyes were red and swollen. She stood blankly at the door, looking at Su Jiuge on the bed. Her lips moved a few times, as if she wanted to say something, but the sound was stuck in her throat and she couldn't make a sound.

Su Jiuge opened her eyes and looked at her.

That look again.

Exactly the same as last time in the main hall—disgusting.

Su Wan'er's body trembled violently.

She lowered her head, not daring to look into Su Jiuge's eyes again, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the handle of the food box.

She felt she shouldn't have come; she had made a mistake. She should have stayed in her room in the west courtyard, just like she had for the past five days, keeping the door and windows tightly shut, hiding herself so that neither she nor she could see her.

But her legs didn't move.

"Mother... Madam said to send you some food." Her voice was very soft, almost inaudible.

"These are osmanthus cakes made by Madam herself. She said you said they were delicious last time, and asked me to bring them over while they're still hot."

Su Jiuge looked at the food box in her hand, and then at her lowered head.

"Put it down." The voice was completely flat.

Su Wan'er hurriedly walked in, placed the food box on the table, opened the lid, and took out a plate of osmanthus cake.

The pastries were exquisitely made, each piece cut into uniform small squares, sprinkled with golden osmanthus flowers, and still steaming slightly. The sweet aroma permeated the air, mingling with the medicinal smell throughout the room, creating a taste that was hard to describe as either sweet or bitter.

Su Wan'er placed the plate within Su Jiuge's reach, then took two steps back, standing with her hands at her sides, like a maid who had done something wrong waiting for her mistress's punishment.

She dared not sit, dared not walk, and dared not speak.

She just stood there, head down, looking at the tips of her shoes.

Su Jiuge did not touch the plate of osmanthus cake.

She looked at Su Wan'er and remained silent for a long time.

She didn't speak, and Su Wan'er dared not speak either.

The room was extremely quiet, with only the sound of water dripping from the water clock in the corner, drop by drop, like the slow but steady footsteps of time.

Are you afraid of me?

Su Jiuge finally spoke.

Su Wan'er's body trembled.

"I...I'm afraid you'll hate me."

The voice trembled, as thin as a spider's silk being blown by the wind.

Su Jiuge did not answer.

Su Wan'er bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I know you shouldn't like me. I've occupied your place for over ten years, called you 'mother' for ten years, and enjoyed everything you were entitled to. It's understandable that you don't forgive me; it's something I owe you. I... I came here today not to ask for your forgiveness, but just to tell you..."

Her lips trembled so badly that she couldn't continue speaking.

She paused, took a deep breath, and used all her strength to force the rest of the words out of her throat:

"sorry."

Su Jiuge looked at her, still without any expression.

"And..." Su Wan'er's voice trailed off, becoming so soft it sounded like she was talking to herself.

"Believe it or not, my feelings for Madam are genuine. I don't call her 'Mother' because she's a Marquis's wife or because she wears gold and silver. I truly... truly regard her as my mother."

Her tears finally fell silently, sliding down her pale cheeks.

Su Jiuge remained silent for a long time.

So long that Su Wan'er thought she wouldn't answer anymore, so long that Su Wan'er felt she should leave.

Su Wan'er turned around and walked towards the door.

"Su Wan'er".

Su Wan'er's feet were rooted to the spot.

This was the first time Su Jiuge had called her by her name.

She didn't know what awaited her.

"It's not your fault that you were used by Aunt Zhou."

Su Jiuge's voice came from behind, not loud, but every word was clear.

"You had no choice. You called me 'mother,' and that's it. Her feelings for you are real, and your feelings for her are real too. Real is real, and it doesn't change because you're not her biological mother."

Su Wan'er's tears flowed even more fiercely, her shoulders shaking violently like a leaf in a storm.

"But I don't like you."

Su Jiuge said,

"I will not acknowledge you as my sister. But you are the madam's adopted daughter, and I have no right to deny that."

Su Wan'er stood at the door, her back to Su Jiuge, trembling with sobs, unable to utter a single word.

She wanted to say thank you, to say sorry, to say so many things, but her throat felt like it was blocked by something, and she could only let out suppressed, broken sobs.

She wanted to say, "I never intended to take anything from you."

But she did nothing; she just stood there crying, like a sapling that had been bent by the wind and was about to break.

Su Jiuge lowered her head and looked at the plate of osmanthus cake.

I picked it up and took a bite.

The osmanthus cake was still warm, soft, sticky, and sweet.

Her left shoulder still ached, the medicine was still churning in her stomach, and the bitter taste of the medicine lingered in her mouth. The sweetness of the osmanthus stood out against the bitterness, like a lamp suddenly lit in the darkness.

"The cake is delicious," Su Jiuge said.

"Please thank you for me, madam."

Su Wan'er nodded frantically, not daring to turn around, afraid that if she did, she would kneel down, and if she did, she would never want to get up.

She walked out with weak legs, and the door closed behind her.

She did not return to the west wing, but went to the main house of Madam Shen.

As soon as she entered the door, she threw herself into Shen's arms, crying uncontrollably.

Shen held her, patted her back, asked nothing, said nothing, just let her cry.

Su Wan'er cried for a long time.

After crying, she lifted her head from Shen's embrace, her eyes swollen like peaches, her nose red, and said in a hoarse voice:

"Mother said the cake was delicious."

Shen was taken aback for a moment, then smiled.

As I laughed, tears started to fall.

She pulled Su Wan'er into her arms again, holding her very tightly.

In the room, Su Jiuge leaned against the headboard, finished the last piece of osmanthus cake, and licked the osmanthus crumbs off her fingertips.

She looked at the bare pomegranate tree outside the window, remained silent for a long time, then took out the copy of the Diamond Sutra written by Su Chengxun from beside her pillow, unfolded it, and read the words on it again.

"All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, dew, and lightning; thus should they be viewed."

Like a dream, a bubble. Were her sixteen years a dream, a bubble? Was the Marquis's mansion a dream, a bubble? Were Shen's tears, Su Chengzhi's crossbow, and Su Wan'er's apology all just dreams, bubbles? She didn't know.

All she knew was that osmanthus cake was delicious.

It's at least tastier than the dry rations provided by the secret government.

Su Jiuge placed the paper roll back beside her pillow, closed her eyes, and continued to recuperate.

Her left shoulder still hurt, but the pain was accompanied by an itch. The itch was a sign that the wound was healing, and that her body was telling her that she was alive.

Just live.

As long as I'm alive, I can take revenge; as long as I'm alive, I can pay off my debts; as long as I'm alive, I can eat a whole plate of osmanthus cake without having to share it with anyone.

The corners of her mouth curved slightly.

It was something she herself couldn't quite explain.

Perhaps out of satisfaction, the plate of osmanthus cake was hers, and she ate it all by herself, without sharing it with anyone. The provisions in the secret quarters always had to be shared; if you didn't share with others, they would try to take them.

There's no need to divide the osmanthus cakes at the Marquis's residence; you can eat as much as you want, and any leftovers can be saved for tomorrow.