The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 40: A Gift From Home

Chapter 40: A Gift From Home

The Crown Prince’s mansion was awash in red.

Lanterns hung from every archway, swaying with the breeze. Crimson banners fluttered along the courtyard walls, embroidered with golden phoenixes. Music drifted softly through the air as the guests gathered in elegant lines, fanning themselves against the summer heat. Nobles murmured, ministers sat with straight backs, and the Crown Prince’s estate had never looked more imperial.

Everything was perfect.

And yet, no one smiled.

Everyone in attendance had heard the rumors. That the woman chosen to marry the heir was a used woman from a bandit camp, a ghost from the mountains, a disgrace brought in from the shadows. She had no family name that they were willing to acknowledge, no noble mother; nothing that marked her as fit for a prince. Let alone the Crown Prince of the entire Daiyu Empire.

But still, here she was.

Zhao Xinying entered beside the Crown Prince, her movements fluid, her posture flawless. She was veiled in red silk so fine it floated when she walked. Her robes matched his—layered scarlet with embroidered phoenixes, simple but proper. Her steps were silent. Her silence, louder still.

She didn’t act like someone who had spent the past 11 years in a bandit camp. In fact, she presented herself better than the majority of the noble women currently in the room. Each step was perfect, and each gesture made the audience want to see more.

They were completely enchanted, unable to look away no matter how hard they tried.

Zhu Mingyu kept his expression neutral as they crossed the length of the ceremonial hall. He did not look at her, nor did she look at him.

He didn’t have to force his expression. The pity in the room was nearly suffocating. Everyone already knew that he had been forced into this. This woman wasn’t fit to be a farmer’s wife, let alone the Crown Princess of the nation. No one doubted that the Crown Prince was sacrificing himself for the sake of court politics. That he would now be bound to a woman no one would ever accept.

Xinying heard it in the whispers behind fans.

"Poor Crown Prince..."

"She doesn’t even have a family name."

"Maybe she’s beautiful under the veil. I mean, there has to be some reason why the Emperor granted the marriage."

"Maybe she isn’t."

She kept walking forward, step by step, calm and steady. She didn’t need to defend herself. Not to these people who knew nothing but thought they knew everything. They were so tightly bound in chains of etiquette and traditions that they stopped seeing them.

Soon enough, they reached the altar. The matchmaker stepped forward and began reciting the rites with a polished cadence. The musicians struck a low, elegant note in the background.

In the front row sat the Emperor’s favored ministers—some smug, some curious. Beside them, Sun Longzi stood at parade rest, his arms behind his back, and his eyes locked on her.

He didn’t pity her.

He pitied the ones who would underestimate her.

Zhao Xinying knelt when she was told. Accepted tea when it was offered. Bowed when required. A perfect bride in every way. Not a hair out of place.

And still, the weight of the entire room pressed down on her like she was something to be ridiculed, like she was a stain on the Crown Prince’s robes.

As they rose for the final bow, a ripple of quiet spread through the front entrance.

Someone was late.

The guards stiffened, but no alarm was raised. It wasn’t an attack. Just... unexpected.

Two men stepped through the front gate, slow and unbothered. They wore traveling clothes, a weird black shirt of some kind, and pants that didn’t look normal. Dust clung to their sleeves as they walked down the aisle, their entire attention focus on the woman in red.

When the Emperor cleared his throat to get their attention, neither of them bowed nor even acknowledged him.

"I heard that the Little Wolf is getting married," announced one of the men, his arms crossed in front of his massive chest as the bride and groom turned around to look at the newcomers. "Now, I be knowin’ dat ain’t right. My Little Wolf woulddna be getting married without invitin’ her favorite uncle... now would she?"

Zhao Xinying’s shoulders dropped at the familiar cadence of an accent she hadn’t heard in over a decade. "I would have sent you an invite, but I didn’t know where to deliver it to," she chuckled softly, walking forward.

Zhu Mingyu, not wanting to make a scene, kept pace beside her, but the closer he got to the two men, the more the warning bells were going off inside his head.

"You know better than that," said the second man, a soft smile on his otherwise impassive face. "All you had to do was make a wish, and we’d be here."

"I’ve been making a lot of wishes over the past 11 years, and I don’t remember even one of them coming true. What have you been doing while I’ve been here?"

"Mostly laughin’ our assess off," chuckled the first man, his eyes glowing red as he took in Zhu Mingyu. "I bet you’re now thankful for all those lessons me and de others put you through, especially ton papa."

"Yes, yes, yes," Zhao Xinying sighed before walking into the man’s open arms. "How could I not be grateful for you, Uncle Dimitri?"

"See, Chang Xuefeng," laughed Dimitri, wrapping his arms around the girl. "I told you I was her favorite."

"Actually," smirked Xinying, the expression hidden beneath her veil. "I never said that you were my favorite. Uncle Tank sent me a present. What have you given me lately?"

With a booming laugh, Dimitri tilted his head back. "Now you’re sounding a bit too much like your Uncle Luca," he laughed with a shake of his head. "But I guess since you are married now, I should have brought a gift. Tell me, little one, what do you want?"

Zhu Mingyu took the moment to cut into the conversation before Xinying could answer. "May I ask where you gentlemen are from and how you know my wife?"

"Dante would approve of that one," sneered Dimitri, looking Zhu Mingyu up and down. "He has a little too much pride in him, don’t he?"

"He’s the Crown Prince," sighed Zhao Xinying. "If he doesn’t have a bit of pride in him, he wouldn’t be worth his title, now would he?" Turning to Zhu Mingyu, she continued. "These are two of my Aunt’s husbands. You can call them Uncle Dimitri and Uncle Chang Xuefeng."

Zhu Deming walked over to stand on the other side of his brother, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Two of your Aunt’s husbands?" he repeated, his head cock to the side as his eyes flashed. "How many husbands does she have?"