The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 114: The Not-So-Veiled Threats

Chapter 114: The Not-So-Veiled Threats

The lunch that followed morning court was nothing short of suffocating.

Zhu Mingyu sat at the head of the table, his wine untouched, his food barely disturbed. Across from him, Lady Yuan poured tea with the precision of a trained courtesan, her every movement graceful—but her face a mask of forced grief.

To her left, her father, General Yuan Han was silent, chewing each bite like it might hold a hidden message. His heavy brows furrowed with unspoken accusation. At his side, Commander Yuan Lixing radiated a fury so cold it felt like ice beneath the sun. He hadn’t touched his food.

The silence had stretched too long.

"You’ve barely eaten," Lady Yuan said softly to the Crown Prince, her voice sweetened but brittle. "You haven’t been sleeping well, either. All this mourning... it must be difficult for you."

Zhu Mingyu didn’t look up. "I didn’t kill your uncle."

"Of course not," she said quickly, but her eyes slid to her father. "No one is suggesting that."

"No one needs to," Commander Yuan said darkly. "There are ways to stain your hands without lifting a single finger. Inaction is just another form of permission."

Zhu Mingyu set his chopsticks down. "If you came here to accuse me, say it plainly."

General Yuan Han placed a hand on his son’s arm—a quiet warning. "We came here for answers, not blood. Minister Yuan was a servant of the throne, and now he’s ash and rot on his own chamber wall. We want to ensure that no further harm comes to our kin."

Lady Yuan placed a hand on her stomach, though there was no longer a child there. "Our family has suffered enough."

Zhu Mingyu leaned forward, finally meeting her gaze. "Your family has suffered. So has mine. So has the court. The only one who hasn’t lost anything is the one woman this entire palace refuses to touch."

Everyone knew who he meant.

Lady Yuan flinched.

General Yuan’s jaw tightened. "Then perhaps it’s time someone touched her."

That earned a flicker of surprise from the Crown Prince.

"You believe she had something to do with it?" he asked.

"I believe you have allowed a wolf to curl up beside your fire," Commander Yuan said coldly. "And now the house is burning."

Zhu Mingyu didn’t answer. He simply stood, the scrape of his chair loud in the brittle silence.

"You came for lunch. You’ve had it. If you find yourself suspicious, then investigate. But do not come into my manor with threats disguised as etiquette."

He turned and walked out without another word.

Lady Yuan’s eyes filled with tears, and she dabbed them with her sleeve. "He doesn’t understand. I’m still grieving. I need him..."

"You need a spine," Commander Yuan snapped. "And a title worth fighting for."

His father, however, was watching the empty doorway thoughtfully. "No. She needs something better. Or rather—someone better."

Commander Yuan arched a brow. "You mean the woman who walks like a commoner and stares down nobles like wolves? We have no proof that she did anything. All we know is that if anyone had the... complete disregard of the Yuan family to do it, it would be her."

General Yuan stood. "I think it’s time I paid a visit. Maybe get those answers."

-----

The soft rustle of leaves in Zhao Xinying’s courtyard was a rare kind of peace.

She was kneeling by her garden bed, not in her heavy outer robes, but in something lighter, more breathable. Her sleeves were rolled, her hair loosely tied. In one hand, she held a pair of shears. In the other, a stalk of chrysanthemum she’d been trimming with casual precision.

She didn’t look up when she spoke.

"You’re either very brave," she said, "or very stupid to walk unannounced into the inner harem."

General Yuan stood at the edge of the garden path, his arms folded behind his back.

"You’re as quiet as they say," he said. "And more vulgar than a woman should be."

She clipped another flower, then set it aside. "You say that like it’s an insult."

"Isn’t it?"

She finally looked up.

"I’m vulgar, General, because this world listens more closely when a woman speaks like a man. And I have no interest in being ignored."

He stepped closer, boots crunching lightly against the stone. "My daughter has suffered."

"I’m aware."

"She’s broken."

"She always was."

His eyes narrowed. "You have a way of making enemies."

"I have a way of finishing them, too. I told your daughter that she needed to act more like a mother than a pawn, it’s not my fault that she chose not to listen to me."

They stared at one another.

And then, quietly, a shadow shifted across the doorway behind her.

Shi Yaozu.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

He was already there, dressed in black with both blades sheathed at his side, his stance relaxed—but eyes locked on the General with a predator’s calculation.

General Yuan’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Xinying. "You don’t keep many guards around you."

"I don’t need many."

Yaozu stepped forward, not drawing a weapon, not bowing. Just there. Unyielding. A wall of quiet warning.

"You’re trespassing," he said simply. "This is part of the Crown Prince’s inner harem. Uninvited male guests are not allowed. Even if they come wearing gold."

"I’m not just anyone," General Yuan replied coolly. "I’m family to the Crown Prince’s wife. And I’m here for answers."

Yaozu’s smile was polite. Thin. Dangerous. "You’ll have none from her."

But Xinying rose to her feet, brushing her hands off. "Actually, I don’t mind the question."

Yaozu’s eyes cut to her, just briefly. "Xinying—"

"It’s fine."

She stepped forward until she was just a few feet from General Yuan.

"You want to know if I killed your brother," she said. "I didn’t."

"Do you know who did?"

"I do."

"Then why do nothing?"

She tilted her head. "Because the rot in your family didn’t begin with one man. But not to worry. I’ll remove the rest in time."

His jaw flexed.

"You speak as if you’re judge and executioner."

"No," she said. "I speak as someone who’s been very patient with people too stupid to know when to leave a sleeping tiger alone."

Yaozu moved closer, his hand brushing hers—casual to the eye, but unmistakable in its meaning. Protection.

General Yuan’s voice dropped to a dangerous level. "If my daughter is not given the respect and position she deserves, we may find ourselves on opposite sides of a field neither of us can control."

Xinying’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. "And if your daughter continues playing the grieving mother while setting fire to everything that doesn’t bow to her, she’ll burn before you do. Trust me, you don’t want to see me on a field. Ask the Red Demons if you doubt my words, but there is no war that I will not win."

A long, thick pause.

And then, General Yuan gave a nod—not of agreement, but of acknowledgement. A soldier’s nod.

"You remind me of my late sister," he said.

"Was she also this charming?" Xinying asked.

"She also thought herself untouchable."

He turned and walked away, boots crunching softly against the path.

Yaozu waited until the gate closed behind him before he exhaled. "He wanted blood."

"He wanted control," she replied. "He’ll settle for fear."

"And if he doesn’t?"

Xinying glanced back at the flower bed and picked up her shears.

"Then I’ll prune a little deeper next time."