The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 21: The Third Prince

Chapter 21: The Third Prince

Despite the arrival of the Red Demon Army, life in Zhou Village began to return to a quiet, measured rhythm. Suspicion lingered, but the villagers were nothing if not practical. They had seen war, starvation, and worse. A few tents on the outskirts and soldiers who mostly kept to themselves—well, it wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t cause for panic either.

They had the time and the patience to wait the army out. After all, the army would be called away at some point in time.

Children played once more in the village square while the farmers went to the fields. The hunters went into the wood every morning and returned before dusk. It wasn’t peace, not truly, but it was tolerable.

Zhu Deming, for his part, didn’t act like a prince. He spoke softly to the villagers, helped draw water from the well, and even split firewood beside the blacksmith’s apprentice one morning. He asked no questions, made no demands. In fact, his presence was calm, almost forgettable—except for the mask that still caught the light like a blade.

Zhou Cunzhang observed him carefully, hammering at red-hot iron on his anvil as the Second Prince approached once more.

"Do you need help clearing the brush along the western path?" Zhu Deming offered, his voice steady.

The village chief didn’t even glance up from his forge. "No brush to clear," he muttered. "Not unless you’re planning to plant something in the woods, waiting long enough, and then clearing it out when it gets too big."

Zhu Deming chuckled under his breath at the sarcastic comment before he nodded, unbothered, and left him to his work.

It might’ve been enough to keep the fragile balance—if not for the Third Prince.

Zhu Lianhua strutted through the village like a rooster in a yard full of hens. His silk robes fluttered behind him, his smirk wide enough to draw slaps if the villagers were a little less disciplined.

"Fools," he muttered one afternoon, watching a woman with her arms full of herbs return from the edge of the trees. "They’re lying. There’s no way they’re surviving out here without help. There is nothing in this place for them to survive on without outside help."

"They’re surviving just fine," came Zhu Deming’s cool voice behind him.

Zhu Lianhua turned sharply, the twisted sneer on his face letting his older brother know exactly what he thought of him. "You’ve been sniffing around them for weeks. Found anything useful yet?"

"Better than sitting on my ass in a silk tent not doing a damn thing. What do you think our Imperial Father will say when we tell him that you did nothing to help find the weapon? In fact, you made sure that the villagers hate us so much that even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t tell us anything just to spite you."

"That’s because Sun Longzi has forbidden me from taking a villager," snarled Zhu Lianhua. "I maintain that if we put a knife to their throats. That’ll loosen a few tongues."

However, before Zhu Lianhua could move to do just that, Zhou Cunzhang emerged from the smithy, wiping his hands on a cloth already soaked in soot. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp as flint.

"You’ll find," he said with a soft smile on his face, "that we don’t scare easy. But we have long learned a lesson that it appears Princes haven’t yet."

Zhu Lianhua laughed, his head tilting back. "You think I’m scared of a hammer-wielding pig farmer?"

"No," replied Zhou Cunzhang simply. "But maybe you should be."

--------

It happened sometime before dawn.

No one saw Zhu Lianhua leave. No one noticed the absent guards or the lack of smug complaints. But by midmorning, his tent stood empty—its silk canopy fluttering in the breeze.

When the commotion first happened, Zhou Cunzhang didn’t look surprised. He sat sharpening a blade outside the smithery, the rasp of stone on steel steady and unhurried, even as chaos erupted around him. The soldiers shouted, searched, and tore through the rice paddies and chicken pens. But even then, the village chief didn’t so much as lift his head and look away from the blade.

"You," barked one of the commanders, pointing his finger at Zhou Cunzhang. "Have you seen the Third Prince?"

"Nope," he replied without looking up. "But if he’s gone into the mountains, you’d best start preparing for a funeral."

It took only minutes for the sheer insanity of a missing prince to reach the center of the square. General Sun Longzi emerged from the command tent, his armor half-fastened, and his expression unreadable as the soldiers formed around him like panicked bees.

"The Third Prince is missing," a scout confirmed. "We’ve searched both the camp and the nearby fields. There’s no signs of a struggle, and no demand for a ransom."

Zhu Deming folded his arms, his half-mask gleaming under the morning sun. "He went into the mountains," he said quietly with a long sigh.

"How can you be so sure?" one of the younger officers asked, his eyes wide with fear. But the longer they stayed in Zhou Village, the more... respect... they had for the mountains. And whatever was in it.

"Because he was impatient," scoffed Zhu Deming. "And he probably wanted to prove that he was more than just a prince in perfume and silk."

Sun Longzi turned toward the villagers, who had begun gathering around the square. They were calm, too calm for the situation. It was clear that they didn’t understand what would happen to them if Zhu Lianhua ended up dead or missing.

"Zhou Cunzhang," he called out, his voice echoing around him.

The village chief looked up at last. He placed the blade aside and wiped his hands on a cloth before standing. "General?"

"You’re not concerned," pointed out Sun Longzi, his eyebrow raised as if demanding an answer for his unasked question.

Zhou Cunzhang tilted his head to the side as if considering the statement. "Concern is for people who have control over a situation. I have no control over the situation. I warned you there was no path through the mountain. If the prince ignored that... well, that’s between him and the mountain."

A hush fell over the gathered soldiers. The casual tone. The absolute dismissal of a royal life. It was madness.

"I mean, if you want him back that bad, you can always go get him yourself," Zhou Cunzhang added with a casual shrug. "But I can’t afford to lose any villagers trying to look for your man. So, to be perfectly clear, you’ll be on your own."

"I have no problem getting him back on our own," Sun Longzi said slowly. "But unless you want the entire Daiyu military camping on your front door, you’re going to need a very alive prince."

"The capital is a long way from here," Zhou Cunzhang pointed out, crossing his arms in front of himself. "The Gods only know what could happen to any army that tried to take over this area here. But, if you think sending more men is going to help, by all means—try. I’ll wait."

Zhu Deming let out a short breath, half a laugh, half a scoff. "You’re not worried at all? We aren’t talking about another few hundred men. If the Third Prince disappears or is killed, then all the military, the hundreds of thousands of men who are bound by duty and loyalty to the Emperor, will come and lay waste to your village and mountain. And if that happens, then you have no chance of keeping hidden whatever it is that you are hiding."

"I’m not hiding anything." Zhou Cunzhang’s voice didn’t rise; it didn’t even so much as betray a hint of the amusement that he was feeling at the threat. "And if the mountains decide not to give your prince back... that’s their decision. Your Emperor will have to come to terms with that."

Sun Longzi’s eyes narrowed. Without a word, he turned away from the square, motioning for Zhu Deming to follow.

They walked in silence past the edge of the fields, where the villagers had already resumed their daily routines. There were no signs of fear; no sign that a prince had gone missing—just business as usual for them.

Finally, when he got far enough away, Sun Longzi stopped. "Why isn’t he scared?" he asked, voice low and concerned. "Why is no one scared?"

Zhu Deming’s mouth twisted behind his mask. "For the same reason that the Yelan army stopped coming through the mountains. They are working on the assumption that whatever’s keeping the Yelan army away... will do the same to us."

The general nodded slowly. "So, that means that whatever their weapon is, they assume it can easily take out hundreds of thousands of highly trained men."

"So, what do we do?" asked Zhu Deming, waiting for his next order.

"We go into the mountain," Sun Longzi said, taking off his armor and tossing it into his tent. "And we pray to all the gods that the Third Prince is still alive."