The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 32: You’re Not Listening

Chapter 32: You’re Not Listening

Sun Longzi didn’t like entering enemy villages alone.

He hated even more leaving his second-in-command behind with an unknown woman. But at this point in time, what he hated most... was not knowing.

This village was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

The quietness was like an itch between his shoulder blades that he couldn’t quite reach. The last time he felt it was when he had been ambushed in battle.

There were no guards on the streets. No armed patrols, and not even the usual restless young men lurking near alleys, itching for a fight. Everyone here was older... or female. Men with bad knees and worse backs, women with babies strapped to their backs, merchants too worn down by time to care who ruled what.

But everyone who was of age to fight in a war? They were nowhere to be seen.

Yelan had a purpose for this village. That was clear. The only question was what were they planning?

He stepped away from the fancier end of the market, where the restaurant’s polished wood and white stone gave way to clay walls and crooked stalls. The air smelled of boiled herbs and burnt ash, less curated, more real.

His eyes scanned the rooftops, the shadows, the doors left slightly ajar. He didn’t like how quiet it was. It was like something was going to jump out at him, and without a weapon, Sun Longzi felt naked and vulnerable.

"You’re on the wrong side of the mountain," came a voice a little ways in front of him.

Sun Longzi picked up his pace until he was beside where the voice had come from.

An older man stepped out from beneath a crooked canopy. Pale eyes, gray beard, a spine that refused to bend even though time clearly wanted it to. He wore plain brown robes dusted with pollen and mortar powder. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, his hands stained with root oils.

"You got lucky," the man continued, looking down at his withered hands. "Managed to land on the Witch’s good side. I underestimated you, Demon Lord."

Sun Longzi narrowed his eyes. "You know me."

"Not hard," the man said, shrugging as he wiped his hands on a cloth. "You’re nearly as infamous as her. The only difference is that you leave people alive at the end of the day."

"And she doesn’t?" Sun Longzi grunted, not at all surprised by that revelation. After all, she didn’t give a shit about his men who died because of her traps, why would she care about anyone else?

The man chuckled, a dry rasp of sound. "Only when it suits her. Still, with her on the mountain, we haven’t had to worry about your army either, so I guess there is a silver lining to everything."

He turned and walked back into the shadowed doorway of what looked like an old apothecary. Quickly, before the man could close the door behind him, Sun Longzi followed.

The shop was cramped but clean. Shelves were lined with dried roots, crushed blossoms, and small clay pots marked in both Daiyu and Yelan script. A copper basin bubbled in the corner, steeping something so bitter Sun Longzi could smell it from across the room.

"Ask your questions," the man said with a long sigh as he crouched down to stoke the fire beneath the basin. "Then get back to your side of the mountain. The last thing we need is the King thinking he can take on the mountain again."

"Why are you helping me?" Sun Longzi asked, suspicion filling his voice as he narrowed his eyes on the old man. He never accepted anyone at face value, and the very idea of such a long-standing enemy willingly offering up the information was enough to make him twitchy.

The apothecary gave him a flat look. "Because apparently, there’s something here the Witch wants you to see. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be alive to have this conversation."

Sun Longzi stiffened at that slight. He was still sure that even without her help, he would have been able to make it through the mountains just fine on his own.

The man gestured lazily, easily reading the look of disgust on Sun Longzi’s face. "Don’t take it personally. If she’d wanted you dead, you’d be fertilizer."

There was a long pause as Sun Longzi stepped closer to the shelves, scanning the vials and jars.

"What’s keeping your army from trying again?" he asked finally, starting with the most important question. Daiyu was fighting a war on three fronts right now; the last thing they needed was to be attacked on all sides.

The man didn’t look up. "The same thing that’s keeping yours out," he scoffed. "The ability to not get through the mountains. We’re too scared of what she can do."

"You’re scared of her," announced Sun Longzi, somewhat startled. While he had seen the power of the traps, at some point in time, they had to run out.

"We’re scared of what happens to those who ignore the warnings," replied the old man.

Sun Longzi’s hand tightened on his waist where his sword used to be. "What is the weapon?" he demanded, moving on to the next question he had. His Emperor needed the weapon, and clearly, this man, these people, knew exactly what it was.

The apothecary stood and wiped his hands, shaking his head. "Are you stupid? Or just ignorant? You’re still not listening. She is the weapon. Even the other countries around us have heard the whispers about her and stay away. They take us as the example. You don’t mess with the mountain, and you don’t mess with the Witch."

"Explain."

"She makes traps from metal that wasn’t there yesterday. She moves like mist. Her wolf—huge thing, black as midnight—doesn’t bark. Doesn’t growl. Just stares until grown men start crying. It merges with the shadows and takes you out with a single bite. Knowing all that, seeing all that, why would you chance it?"

"You’ve seen her then?" asked Sun Longzi, his voice becoming softer.

"Once," the man said. "We met at a restaurant. She asked if I had some wild ginseng. I did, but I don’t think that was what she was really after."

"Why do you say that?" mused the general, raising an eyebrow.

"Because it grows in abundance in the mountains. She has more ginseng than I ever could hope to have," said the man, a smile on his face.

"Are you upset about that? About losing all the resources from the mountain?"

"Why should I? The next time I saw her, I said I didn’t have any if she was still looking. The next day, there was enough ginseng, perfectly preserved, on my doorstep. She might be brutal, but she has her own code." He poured something into a cup and offered it to Sun Longzi, but the other man didn’t take it.

"The one man she let live," the apothecary continued, almost like an afterthought. "The one who told us about her all those years ago—he killed himself a few months later."

Sun Longzi frowned. "Why?"

"Nightmares," the man said simply. "Said he couldn’t sleep without hearing the metal screaming. Said her eyes never left him."

A long silence filled the room.

Then Sun Longzi asked, "Why are there no soldiers here?"

The apothecary chuckled. "Because there’s no point. Yelan’s fighting wars to the north with Baiguang and skirmishes in the south with Chixia. Why throw men at a mountain that kills everything it touches?"

Sun Longzi’s gaze darkened.

"If we can’t fight east, we fight elsewhere," the old man said with a shrug. "The King knows the cost. Daiyu hasn’t sent armies either, have they?"

"No."

"Exactly."

Sun Longzi crossed his arms. "You think she’s worth fearing that much?"

"I think," the apothecary said, stepping forward and meeting his gaze head-on, "that the last person who underestimated her ended up in pieces. And if you’re smart, you’ll leave with your head still intact."

The fire crackled in the corner, a sudden pop startling Sun Longzi out of his thoughts. Turning to leave, he was stopped by the old man.

"Demon Lord," the man called out. "You should know better than to fight battles you know you can’t win. Keep her where she is, and you’ll never have to worry about the western front."

Sun Longzi simply grunted and left, closing the door behind him.