The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis Chapter 269: A Place For Him

Morning ca softer than I expected.

For once, there were no bells ringing, no shouts from the courtyards, no ministers waiting with scrolls thicker than my arms. Just the faint chatter of sparrows in the roof beams and the quiet hiss of the brazier dying down.

I’d been sitting by the window for a while, letting the pale light wash over the pages of a book I wasn’t really reading, when Lin Wei padded over. Barefoot, hair sticking up from sleep, his face still swollen with the kind of dreams children keep to themselves.

He didn’t say anything—he never did—but his fingers tugged at mine, insistent in a way that didn’t need words. I closed the book, slid it aside, and let him lead . His grip was warm, small but unyielding.

"Where are we going?" I murmured, though I knew I wouldn’t get an answer.

He stopped at the edge of the veranda, pointing with all the seriousness in the world toward the garden pond. The koi had begun their lazy circles, the morning light catching the curve of their scales.

I sighed, smiled despite myself. "The fish again?"

His nod was quick, his eyes bright.

So I sat on the steps with him, letting him lean against my shoulder while we watched the orange and gold swish just beneath the water’s skin. He didn’t need to speak for to understand him. The calm in his posture said enough: here, for this mont, the world could stay simple.

-------

Mingyu joined us not long after, his robes half-fastened, hair damp as though he’d washed in a hurry. He crouched low, level with Lin Wei, though he knew no answer would co.

"Which one is your favorite?" he asked, pointing to the koi with the bent tail. "That one looks like a fighter to ."

Lin Wei’s lips twitched in sothing almost like a smile. He pointed toward the smallest instead, one pale and half-hidden by the shadows.

Mingyu didn’t correct him. Didn’t coax him into explaining. He only nodded as if the boy’s choice were the most natural thing in the world. "A quiet one," he said softly. "Strong ones don’t always need to be loud, do they?"

I watched the two of them together, and sothing in my chest loosened. For so long I’d felt I needed to give Lin Wei a voice, to translate him for others, to stand like a shield between him and their questions. Mingyu didn’t press, didn’t ask for more than Lin Wei could give. He simply accepted him as he was.

And that, I realized, was worth more than any words.

------

Later, when the sun had risen higher, Yaozu called to the training yard. I went with Lin Wei, though he darted ahead the mont he saw the wooden practice swords lined up against the wall.

He picked one, far too long for him, and staggered under the weight until Yaozu stepped forward and gently switched it out for a smaller one.

Lin Wei squared his shoulders, raising the blade in a mimicry of Yaozu’s stance. It was clumsy, arms too stiff, legs spread unevenly, but the concentration on his face was sharp enough to cut stone.

Yaozu didn’t laugh. He didn’t correct him harshly. Instead, he lowered his own blade, adjusting his feet until they matched Lin Wei’s awkward spread. Slowly, patiently, he shifted—just enough for Lin Wei to copy. A ga of mirrors.

I leaned against the post and watched them. Sweat beaded on Lin Wei’s forehead, his tongue caught between his teeth in stubborn determination. Yaozu’s patience was endless, the sa steady patience he gave to when my temper threatened to break apart the people I loved.

When Lin Wei’s arms finally drooped, too heavy to hold the wooden blade any longer, Yaozu set his own down and ruffled his hair. The boy’s chest heaved, but his smile was unmistakable, radiant in its quiet way.

"You’ll do," Yaozu murmured, not for praise but for truth.

And in Lin Wei’s eyes, I saw the shine of soone who believed him.

----

By the ti the lamps were being lit, we’d drifted into Longzi’s study. Maps and tokens were spread across the table, the kind of clutter that made my temples ache. Lin Wei didn’t hesitate; he climbed onto the bench, eyes fixed on the neat little wooden circles painted with lines and numbers.

He reached out, rearranging them without hesitation, pulling three into a tight cluster and sliding one farther away.

Longzi raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Lin Wei didn’t answer, of course. He only tapped the lone token once, then twice, as if insisting.

Longzi leaned back, studying the new formation, then huffed a laugh through his nose. "A bold tactic."

Deming, standing in the doorway, scoffed. "What does he know of strategy?"

Longzi’s mouth twitched. "Enough to see what you missed. If the supply lines fall here, the rest crumble."

Lin Wei only blinked, perfectly unbothered, and shifted another piece.

For the first ti in days, I laughed. "You’ve found yourself a new rival, Longzi."

"I’ll take him," he said smoothly. "At least he doesn’t argue out loud."

-------

That night, after dinner, I sat cross-legged on the bed with Lin Wei sprawled across my lap. His breathing had slowed, lashes brushing his cheeks as sleep pulled him under. I ran my fingers gently through his hair, marveling at how soft he still was, how small despite everything he’d survived.

Mingyu entered quietly, his steps softer than usual, as though he didn’t want to wake the boy. He stopped beside , looking down at the sight of Lin Wei curled like a cat across my knees.

Without a word, he bent and gathered him up, careful, steady. Lin Wei stirred only once before settling back against Mingyu’s chest, his little hand clutching the Emperor’s robe.

Mingyu laid him down in the adjoining bed, tucking the blanket up around his chin. Then he turned back to , his expression softened in a way I didn’t often see outside of these private monts.

"He doesn’t need to speak," he said, voice low, ant only for . "We already hear him."

I swallowed past the sudden tightness in my throat. For once, I didn’t argue. I just nodded, letting the truth of it settle deep in my bones.

Because he was right.

Lin Wei was already heard.

And I would make sure that that continued.

I might not have given birth to him, but I was his mother in all the ways that counted.