The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 95: What I Came To See

Chapter 95: What I Came To See

I hadn’t even managed to summon the motivation to get out of bed when Zhao Meiling sent me a handwritten invitation. Shi Yaozu stopped the maid before she could enter my chambers, but I could still hear her voice echoing in my head as she sputtered an explanation.

Rolling my eyes, I let out a big yawn and called out to Yaozu to bring it to me.

Seriously, people didn’t seem to appreciate sleep nearly as much as they should.

Yaozu returned quickly and stood beside me as I opened the envelope.

The ink was pressed delicately, as if the brush had barely dared to touch the paper. Polite, formal, full of empty words about sisterhood and harmony. She requested my presence at tea later that morning, claiming she wished to "ease the atmosphere" between the Crown Prince’s women.

Calling on my flames, I didn’t even have to get out of bed as I held the paper up, letting the edges curl and turn black. When it was nothing more than ash, I dusted off my hands and rolled back over.

Whatever she was planning, whatever scheme she had cooked up, she was more than welcome to try and test my patience.

Let her smile.

Let her play nice.

And when I finally figured out what was going on in her head, I would show her why it was important to let sleeping demons lie.

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I arrived fifteen minutes early to the tea party. I wanted to see what she would do with the extra time and hopefully send her off balance just a bit.

Shi Yaozu stood in the shade beneath the plum trees, almost invisible. I didn’t need to ask if he was ready. He always was.

The tea room was newly furnished—soft pillows, open windows, incense already lit. Gold-painted butterflies hovered across the screens. Too sweet. Too careful. Nothing in this room felt like Meiling.

She was wearing white again, of course. Pale and unadorned. A widow’s palette, except there was no grief in her expression when she rose to greet me.

"Older sister... I mean, Crown Princess," she said with a deep bow. "You honor me."

"Mm." I swept past her and sat near the head of the table. "I’m told you’ve been very busy lately. You haven’t visited in days."

Her smile didn’t flicker. "I’ve been unwell, and I didn’t want to make you sick, too."

"How unfortunate. And yet, you are well enough now to be able to host such a lovely event."

"Some things are worth the effort," she said sweetly, taking her seat. "I wanted to mend our relationship. There’s been so much... misunderstanding between us."

"Misunderstanding," I nodded my head even as I raised a brow. "Was it misunderstanding when you tampered with my tea at the banquet? Or is that another symptom of your illness?"

Zhao Meiling’s smile tightened. "That was a mistake. I was emotional. I let others influence me."

"Then I assume you’ve removed those others from your household?"

She said nothing.

I leaned forward slightly. "Because if I find out they’re still there—still writing letters, still whispering at night—you and I will have a very different conversation."

The door slid open. A few of the other women trickled in. Lady Yuan’s cousin, soft-voiced and blank-eyed. A few others who had aligned themselves with the quieter factions of the estate. Zhao Meiling served tea herself, smiling all the while.

I let her pour mine.

Let her see I wasn’t afraid.

But just because I wasn’t afraid, didn’t mean that I drank it.

Instead, I studied her hands.

No tremble. No hesitation.

She believed she’d won something.

As the others chatted about nothing—fabrics, the spring festival, a new embroidery pattern—I let my gaze drift to the servant girl who’d entered last. Too young. Too clean. Her shoes had no wear, her apron didn’t match the estate pattern.

She was new.

And she was delivering more than tea.

I nodded once. Shi Yaozu vanished from the garden.

Within the hour, she would be intercepted with a silk-wrapped note pressed beneath the tea tray. She wouldn’t even know it was missing until it was too late.

Let Meiling write her secrets.

Let her tie the noose herself.

The conversation shifted again—Meiling was speaking now, voice light, threading barbs between compliments.

"It’s such a joy to see the household becoming so organized," she said. "So harmonious under our Crown Princess’s watchful eye. Some say she even reorganized the ledgers herself."

"They say she has an eye for numbers," someone added.

"Oh, an eye for everything, I imagine," Meiling said, sipping delicately. "I’ve heard even the garden birds sing differently when she passes."

I smiled. "They sing out of fear."

A few of the women laughed.

Meiling tilted her head. "Fear? But why should they fear their mistress?"

"Because sometimes, the only thing more terrifying than cruelty is precision," I replied calmly. "A clean death is worse than a slow one. At least the slow ones let you say goodbye."

The tea in Meiling’s cup trembled slightly. Her hand had flinched.

"Don’t worry," I said lightly. "This isn’t that kind of gathering."

I stood then, brushing invisible dust from my sleeve. "Enjoy the rest of your tea."

She forced a smile. "You’re not staying?"

"No. I’ve already seen what I came to see."

I left them sitting there, their cups untouched.

By the time I returned to my wing, Yaozu was waiting with a folded letter.

He handed it to me silently. The seal had already been broken.

Inside: troop movement guesses, speculations on Zhu Mingyu’s health, and a request for confirmation of a rumor that the Red Demons were being stationed outside the capital walls.

Signed in a false hand. But the cadence was unmistakable.

Zhao Meiling.

I set the letter aside.

"She’s getting bold," I murmured.

"She’s getting desperate," Shi Yaozu replied. "Bold people play to win. Desperate ones play to survive."

"Then let’s make her feel safe," I said. "Let her think she’s outmaneuvering us. I want her to believe she has the upper hand."

"To what end?"

"To see how far she’ll crawl before she realizes she’s already in the grave."

His mouth twitched into something like a smile.

I turned toward the window, watching the wind shift the branches of the cherry tree outside.

Let Meiling keep smiling.

Let her laugh and gossip and serve her poison-laced tea.

Because she wasn’t the only one who knew how to smile and lie.

And the next cup?

The next one would not be a warning.