The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 93: The Manor Has Leaks

Chapter 93: The Manor Has Leaks

After an impossibly awkward dinner, I went to hunt down Zhu Mingyu to see what was going on.

I looked for him in his formal study, but all I found was yet another one of his concubines outside the door with a bowl of soup or something in her hands.

Turning away, I went to the only other place that I knew he went to for peace.

I found him in the inner study—one of the hidden rooms tucked between the library and the archive hall. It smelled faintly of ink, burnt oil, and old sandalwood. The brazier in the corner glowed low, casting long shadows over the silk scrolls and lacquered cabinets.

Here, there were servants, no guards, just silence thick enough to drown in.

Zhu Mingyu was standing at the back, his hands folded behind him, shoulders tense. He didn’t look at me when I entered.

"You dismissed the garden staff," he grunted when I closed the door behind me.

"I did," I agreed, coming deeper into the room. "Would you like me to reinstate them?"

"No," he muttered. "I just didn’t expect it to be handled so quickly."

I walked across the room, running my fingers over the spines of the ledgers. "You knew I would come back."

"I hoped." His voice was soft. "There’s a difference."

He finally turned, and I saw it then—the sharp lines around his mouth, the bruise-colored exhaustion under his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping. Not well, anyway. And something had shifted in his posture.

Not fear.

Paranoia.

"There’s a leak in this manor," he said quietly, his eyes darting around like he was expecting someone to be standing in the shadows.

"Only one?" I scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

His lips twitched like he was trying to hold back a smile and his posture relaxed. "You know what I mean."

I did. But I let him speak.

"There were scrolls. In this room. Written by my own hand and in code. I had them hidden in a compartment that no one was supposed to know about. Not even my personal steward knew of the scrolls or where I put them." He walked toward a cabinet tucked into the far wall and pulled it open. The inside was hollow, double-walled. "They were taken four days ago."

"While you were distracted by the war."

He nodded. "Not a break-in. No signs of disturbance. Whoever it was had access—and enough understanding of my routines to know when this room would be left unguarded."

I ran my fingers along the edge of the table. "I assume that you have a long list of suspects," I said softly, my brain already going. " Do you suspect Lady Yuan?"

"I do." He sat heavily on the bench near the map case. "She’s not a fool. Her family ties to the Third Prince are too deep. Imperial Consort Yi, THE Consort Mei, is her aunt. She knows everything that leaves this estate and makes sure to pass it on to her father and then her aunt. But I never thought she’d act so boldly. I assumed that she was just passing on rumors and whispers. Not national secrets."

"She’s more than just her family," I murmured, shaking my head. "She’s playing her own game." If what I knew about Lady Yuan was right, then she would do anything in her power to become the Empress. That meant she was either trying to help Mingyu in some way or she was already planning her exit from him.

"She’s not the only one." Mingyu looked up then, and for the first time, I saw the hesitation behind his eyes.

"Zhao Meiling," I scoffed. That one came as no surprise. I think we both knew it was coming the moment the Left Prime Minister insisted that she move in here to help me ’adjust’ to court life.

He nodded once. "She was supposed to be married into the Third Prince’s residence days ago, the day after the incident, but the date keeps changing. Every time I ask why, I’m given some vague excuse—ritual timing, auspicious omens, an outbreak of illness."

"You think she’s staying to gather information."

"I know she is. I just don’t know if the information is going to the Left Prime Minister or some other prince I didn’t see coming."

I exhaled slowly and took a seat beside him, not touching, but near enough that he knew I was listening. "What was in the scrolls?"

"Names," he said. "My names. Coded references to the guards and scouts I’ve personally vetted. Most of them in the outer provinces or posted along the eastern border. And troop placement strategies—mine. Not official records. I wrote them myself after my last inspection tour."

"And someone stole them."

"Not just stole them. Used them. Two supply lines were hit last week. Surgical strikes. Whoever planned them knew exactly which path the caravans would take."

I let that sink in for a moment. "Who do you think is involved? It doesn’t really seem like something the Third Prince is smart enough to pull off."

"I don’t know," he admitted. "But there is more than just the Third Prince to worry about. The Fourth Prince has appeared out of the woodwork and he’s been hosting feasts. Small ones. Private. His household has doubled in the past two weeks, and several mid-tier officials are now attending his tea salons."

"Building allies," I mused. "Quietly."

"And he’s clean," Mingyu said bitterly. "Too clean. He’s never had a scandal, never taken a concubine, never even left the capital. He’s either playing a long game... or someone else is using him as a mask."

A long pause followed.

Then he said it.

"There are sixteen princes," he announced.

I blinked. "You’re joking."

He gave a humorless smile. "Not in the slightest. And nineteen princesses."

"By how many mothers?"

"Too many to count. Only twenty-three consorts still live inside the inner palace. The others were demoted or sent to temples. Or died. I think at one point in time, before Consort Mei became the Imperial Consort Yu, there were a few hundred women in the harem. That number greatly decreased after she arrived."

I crossed one leg over the other. "And of those sixteen?"

"Seven are dead," he said. "One disappeared seven years ago on a naval campaign. No body was ever recovered. One vanished as a child—no trace. Most died of some type of childhood illness, and the Eleventh Prince..."

He hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Officially, he died in a fire," Zhu Mingyu said slowly. "But his body was never displayed. The death ceremony was sealed. And oddly enough, just before he died, the Third Prince showed up with you in tow."

My fingers went still on the edge of the bench. "I see," I purred, a slight smile on my lips. So it wasn’t the fact that my traps failed to live up to my expectations, it was that the Third Prince was worse than I thought.

"What do you see?" asked Mingyu, his eyebrow raised.

"The Third Prince was caught in one of my traps on the mountains. The scaring from the birds pecking at him was bad. I guess he was told that he would forever be scared on his face and shoulders..." I trailed off.

"He had no scars," pointed out Mingyu, taking a seat at his desk.

"Now he doesn’t," I agreed with a nod.

"You think—"

"I think that everyone wears a mask to hide parts of themselves that they don’t like," I smiled. "And I don’t think all masks are made of silver or gold."

He laughed once, dark and bitter. "Of course not. He’s always been the Emperor’s favorite. The beautiful one. The perfect one. If what you are saying is true... then no one would dare say his face wasn’t his."

"And the Eleventh Prince is dead and can’t accuse him of anything."

A long silence followed.

Finally, I asked, "What do you want from me?"

His answer came without pause.

"Help me find the leak. Before they tear this manor apart from the inside."

I rose, smoothing my sleeves. "Then I’ll need full access, and the ability to handle everything how I see fit. That means staff lists, all the information on your concubines’, and even their attendants."

"You’ll have it," he chuckled low. "What happened to teaching them how to garden?"

"They’ll help me garden in a different way," I shrugged. "Most plants do well with bonemeal, they can volunteer for that. On a side note, I’ll move the remaining scrolls to my residence. Somewhere only Yaozu and I can reach."

He nodded. "Done."

I paused at the door. "There’s one more thing."

"Yes?"

"You can’t protect everyone, Mingyu."

His eyes met mine.

"And I won’t try," he said quietly. "Not this time."

Good.

I opened the door and stepped into the hall.

Because if they wanted war in whispers, I was more than ready to whisper back.