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The woods are dark and full of dangers, but Nie Mingjue is not afraid. He can’t afford to be, not in such lean times and not if he wants to care for those who depend on him. He and Huaisang wandered long and far to find a place that would take them in, and this latest village has been wary but welcoming enough. They have only lived at this particular village for five months, but in those scant few months he’s become engrained in the little ecosystem and the villagers have begun to see his use.
He may only be a humble woodcutter, but he is tall and strong and his axe is swift and sure enough that he is one of the few who can safely venture into the edges of the forest to set traps and gather firewood. As winter approaches and the elders begin to shiver, these trips have become more and more frequent, but Nie Mingjue always makes sure not to overhunt or strip the forest of too many of its treasures. He knows better than to do anything that will force him to venture too deep into the treacherous thicket.
It is a good, if meager, life, kept just shy of lonely by Huaisang’s presence.
The careful equilibrium of his simple existence is disrupted, however, when he returns one morning with a bundle of wood to find Granny Zhao’s six-year-old granddaughter crying and covered in scratches and bruises.
Nie Mingjue carefully tucks his axe away and bends down to the child’s eyelevel.
“What’s wrong, little one?” he asks as kindly as he can, placing a large, callused hand on top of the girl’s head.
What she shares shakes him to his core. Through hiccupping tears, she recounts a story of a terrifying, hook-nosed witch who eats children. The witch lures children in with a house of mouthwatering candy deep in the forest, working dark magics of fire and bones once the children are there to trap them. The girl barely escaped from the witch with her life. She says that she’s heard that children from the other villages have been disappearing when they’ve played a little too far into the woods.
Nie Mingjue’s blood boils when he thinks of these innocent lives taken before their time. He straightens, determined. The girl should know better than to play in the woods, but if there’s an evil witch preying on children he needs to do something about it. The witch must be stopped and the village’s young must be kept safe.
He tells the girl to go straight home to her pohpoh and to listen to her when she says never to play in the woods. Pausing only to pack a small rucksack, he vows to prevent the evil witch from taking another life.
For the first time since he arrived, Nie Mingjue heads deep into the forest, deeper than he’s ever been before and then deeper still. He doesn’t stop when he can no longer see the town and he doesn’t stop when he can no longer see the sun’s light. He pauses only to drop polished white stones behind him, creating a makeshift path that he can follow safely home.
It’s a treacherous journey, thorns ripping at his clothing and skin and roots threatening to trip him at every turn. Twice he has to fight off wolves, the sharp blade of his axe the only thing that saves him from their snapping jaws. He rests only briefly in a small cave, drinking from his skein of water and hoping that he’ll find his destination soon.
When day breaks the next day, Nie Mingjue is exhausted but still steadfast in his quest. Luckily, he is a keen tracker and he discovers traces of two footprints leading in one direction: one set small and one set large, he realizes with a bone-chilling shiver. He follows them cautiously and is rewarded when he arrives at a small clearing, trees sparse enough that rays of light land dappled on grass and moss.
Here the forest seems gentler, the moss soft and inviting rather than creeping and spongey. At the center of the little clearing is a house—no, a cottage, really. It is unimpressive in size, but in construction… Nie Mingjue has never seen anything like it. It is as the child said, entirely made of alluring sweets, thick gingerbread walls and sugar work windows. In front is a small garden, the healthy pumpkins and strawberries and squash growing there a sharp contrast to the sugary confection of a home behind it.
The more Nie Mingjue stares, the more surprising details he discovers. The candy materials are cut neatly and the angles are all joined with precision, ensuring shocking structural integrity. There are small candy details about the walls and house, cotton candy clouds and etched sugar, but it still manages to be tasteful, with a limited color scheme largely comprised of pastel pink and lavender.
A door creaks open ominously and Nie Mingjue crouches behind a nearby bush just in time, the dense foliage providing him with camouflage even as the holes in the leaves allow him an unobstructed line of sight to the house. He holds his axe at the ready, crouching low and poised to surprise and defeat the evil witch once and for all.
A man (the witch!) steps into view and Nie Mingjue barely suppresses a gasp. He’s not what Nie Mingjue anticipated from the child’s description, not at all.
Sure, the man is clothed in the customary heavy dark black cloak and hat, but his features are also surprisingly… fetching. His nose is indeed hooked, but just slightly, and there’s a light dusting of freckles across its bridge. The pointy black hat on his head accentuates its curve in such a way that it manages to make him look somehow innocent, even cute. A dark purple ribbon is braided into long wavy hair that lies softly about his shoulders. The witch is tall (not as tall as Nie Mingjue, of course, but closer than most) and slim, and younger than Nie Mingjue had assumed.
Nie Mingjue frowns. Something is wrong. He remembers stories from his youth of sirens, of glamour spells and stolen beauty. Could that be this witch’s scheme, leeching supple skin and soft dark hair from his victims? Nie Mingjue can only assume so; the witch has seen into Nie Mingjue’s soul, seen his most secret desires, and cast a spell to embody them.
A powerful and effecting enchantment, for sure, its ability to adapt to the eyes of the viewer impressive. Nie Mingjue hasn’t been distracted by another person’s beauty in quite some time, yet he is drawn to hold and be held by this exquisite creature.
But it’s not effective enough. Nie Mingjue has a strong mind and he’s not so easily fooled by smoke and mirrors and base desires. If this is the best trick the witch has to offer, Nie Mingjue will not falter in taking him down.
Nie Mingjue is more than ready to ignore how… cute, this witch looks, even as the witch’s brow knits adorably and he conjures a delicate puff of magic to carefully fix a small crack in the pink candy cane windowsill.
The witch leans back with his hands on his hips to consider of his work and is apparently pleased with what he sees. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a contended smile. As his brow flattens and his features open with the satisfied expression, it transforms his face into something still more lovely.
An involuntary gasp escapes from Nie Mingjue, his breath stolen by the simple expression.
It’s a crucial mistake.
The witch whirls to face in the direction of the sound, all traces of a smile gone and hand reaching for his gnarled wand. His narrowed eyes blaze fiercely as they scan the woods.
“Show yourself!” the witch calls into the forest. Cursing the strength of the witch’s glamour that caused him to slip, Nie Mingjue stays as still as he can, praying that the witch will think it was just a breeze or some wild animal.
Alas, luck does not appear to be on Nie Mingjue’s side. The witch takes a cautious step towards the woodcutter’s bush. “If you’re another child, it’s too dangerous for you to be in the woods! Hurry and return to your parents immediately before ill befalls you!”
The witch’s frown deepens, and Nie Mingjue is perplexed to hear him mutter, “honestly, who is raising these mannerless idiots?” The witch’s hatred for children must run deep.
He’s only a few strides away now, and Nie Mingjue knows that in just a couple more, Nie Mingjue will be caught and the element of surprise lost. His skin tingles from adrenaline and his blood pounds loud in his ears. Nie Mingjue makes the hasty decision to attempt to retreat further into the woods, despite the risk the movement brings.
His hopes are dashed, however, when a twig behind him breaks in two with a sharp snap.
He turns to run, a last ditch effort to escape the witch’s clutches, but the witch is too powerful. With a wave of the witch’s wand, vines from the front garden’s pumpkin patch snake up and wind themselves around his limbs. A vine squeezes at his right wrist, forcing him to drop his axe with a curse. The vines are thick, stronger than rope, and for each that Nie Mingjue manages to break, three more appear in its place. They are gentle but firm and slowly, steadily, they drag him back until he’s exposed by the light in the clearing, a scant few feet from the witch.
The witch’s eyes widen as he stares at Nie Mingjue. From here, Nie Mingjue can see they’re an unusual and soft grey. Pretty and catlike, like the rest of him.
“You’re not a child,” the witch frowns, clearly dissatisfied with his quarry.
Nie Mingjue growls, still straining futilely against his bonds. “I’m not. Sorry to deprive you of your next meal,” he snarls. He may yet die, but he will do so with his pride intact.
The witch only looks more confused. “What are you speaking about?” He shakes his head, more a twitch of his jaw than a proper movement. “No, never mind. Have you come to ruin my house?”
It’s Nie Mingjue’s turn to be confused. He can’t move his head with the vines around his neck, so he settles for speaking. “No? Why and how would I ruin your house?”
“By eating it,” the witch says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Or by melting it or something of that ilk.”
Nie Mingjue curses himself. He should have done that, let it go up in flames with this evil witch inside it using the tinder in his sack, rather than gawking at the perfect details and fine construction. But that’s a regret for another time. He can at least answer the first part honestly.
“I don’t care for sweets, witch,” Nie Mingjue asserts.
The witch hums for a second, eyes giving him a quick once over.
“No, I don’t suppose you do,” the witch muses, before the tips of his ears turn a light pink. The witch coughs awkwardly, and Nie Mingjue finally feels the vines around him relax, slithering back to the garden patch from which they emerged.
The witch turns from him stiffly, picking up a bucket of sugar glaze and starting to add a coat to the window awning. With his back to Nie Mingjue (and the backs of his ears still an appealing rosy shade), he says quietly, “I apologize for restraining you. I have had a number of unwelcome intruders of late who meant to nibble at my hard work. My name is Jiang Cheng and I am a witch, but I simply wish to be left alone. Please be on your way.”
Nie Mingjue stretches gingerly, testing his freed limbs. Satisfied that there doesn’t seem to be any real damage, he considers his next move. Could he have gotten something wrong? It’s true that six-year-olds are not the most… reliable of sources, and a witch who bakes children to eat is a bit far-fetched. Perhaps the girl just wanted to escape her grandmother’s wrath for sneaking into the forest where she wasn’t meant to be and dirtying her clothes.
He moves forward to offer apologies of his own, to know more about this curious house and man, when he glimpses a hint of movement through the window. There, seated at a small table, is a young boy, maybe five years old.
An innocent child, trapped by this evil witch.
Instantly, Nie Mingjue snaps out of his daze, cursing himself for almost falling for another of the witch’s foul tricks. His axe is still too far to reach, lost some distance away in the brush, but he has the considerable strength of his bare hands at his disposal. He charges the witch and, with the witch’s back to him, it’s easy work to overpower and pin him against the biscuit walls.
The witch’s wand and bucket of sugar glaze tumble to the ground, the viscous liquid seeping slowly into the moss and trimmed grass. Against him, the witch struggles. There’s surprising power in his slender build, but Nie Mingjue is stronger.
This close, Nie Mingjue can see how good the glamour is. He can count each long, sweeping lash and see the tempting curve of sugar-glossed, full lips. It’s more mouthwatering than any part of the house behind him, and it’s certainly not helping his concentration.
“I see through you, witch!” Nie Mingjue commands. “Drop the enchantment and stop clogging my brain with your sorcery or I will end you now!”
“What—” the witch continues to try and twist free. The motion knocks his hat slightly askew, but his spell does not recede. “What enchantment are you speaking of?”
“I know what you’re doing!” Nie Mingjue accuses, “so don’t lie! If you think I won’t kill you just because of how you look, you’re wrong.”
The witch blanches at that, opening his mouth to retort again.
Before another word can be spoken, however, they’re interrupted by the young boy Nie Mingjue saw through the window. The child runs clumsily, but quickly, until at Nie Mingjue’s side. Instead of thanks or tears, however, the boy starts kicking viciously at Nie Mingjue’s legs.
“Let go of jiujiu!” he wails, landing blow after furious blow to Nie Mingjue’s ankles and shins.
The boy is short—the top of his head doesn’t even reach Nie Mingjue’s waist—and the assault of his small feet barely registers with Nie Mingjue. The word “jiujiu,” however, does; it shocks him into loosening his grip enough for the witch to wriggle free.
The witch—Jiang Cheng—scoops his boy into his arms. He backs away quickly from Nie Mingjue, grabbing his wand on the way. An uneasy pit of uncertainty begins to form in Nie Mingjue’s stomach. A nephew and family member? Was the boy never trapped at all?
“You shouldn’t have come out here, Jin Ling!” Jiang Cheng scolds, even as he continues to retreat. “It’s dangerous and there’s a violent man. What if you were hurt, you brat?”
The child is unrepentant. “I saved you, jiujiu!” he pouts, chubby cheeks puffed.
In spite of his exasperation, Jiang Cheng gives the boy a smile, and… heavens . While the previous smile Nie Mingjue witnessed was just a hint at the corner of his mouth, this one is bigger, and all the more devastating for it.
“Jiujiu?” Nie Mingjue echoes, and Jiang Cheng’s gaze snaps to him, glare back in full force. “You’re not going to eat him?”
“This is my foolish nephew,” Jiang Cheng answers warily, “why would I eat him?”
As Nie Mingjue pieces together the new information with the old, the pit in his stomach grows so large that it threatens to consume him whole.
“…you don’t eat children.”
“What about all of this makes you think I would eat children? If anything, I wish they would stay far away.”
“And… the glamour?” Nie Mingjue wonders, gesturing at the witch’s face. Jiang Cheng only looks further perplexed.
Jin Ling interrupts again. “Jiujiu is a food witch,” he announces proudly. “He can only do magic with food like vegetables and fruits and candy! No glamours!”
Nie Mingjue’s brain reels with the information that maybe this man just looks like this, that a man like this can exist at all, faint red on his high cheekbones and mussed soft hair with a now-slightly askew hat. He had thought only royalty could have such fine features, and perhaps not even them. And now he's not only mortally offended him but mortally threatened him.
His shame at his unwarranted attack on this man based on faulty assumptions is overwhelming and he drops to his knees in repentance for his misdeeds. The humiliation of it burns, but it is the right thing to do so he doesn’t hesitate.
“This humble woodcutter offers his sincerest apologies. I trusted my instincts and the words of a frightened child over common sense.” Nie Mingjue dares not to look up as he admits the next part. “I didn’t realize anyone could look so… alluring… so I assumed you had cast a spell and I had heard a rumor of disappearing children. Still, that is no excuse for my actions.”
Nie Mingjue risks a glance up, and he catches Jiang Cheng reddening further and adjusting Jin Ling onto one of his hips. The child looks down at him with narrowed eyes, imperious and appropriately unforgiving.
“Don’t—you can’t say things like that!” Jiang Cheng snaps. “And have you considered that the children are disappearing because their useless parents let them play in a dangerous forest alone without supervision? I’ve had to scare off a few rude children who try to eat my house and with the hopes they’d stop wandering alone in the woods, but… never with violence! I may have yelled a little and made some empty threats about how they’d like it if I ate their homes, but that is all.”
Nie Mingjue recalls the wild beasts he encountered on his journey to the house and the dangers the woods pose, even without an evil witch. “I was short-sighted and acted before fully considering the situation. I will accept what punishment you deem fit,” Nie Mingjue promises, voice steady with sincerity as he bows his head.
“Punishment? I—” Jiang Cheng cautiously approaches Nie Mingjue and helps him stand again with a hand on his elbow. “Look, I came out here to be left alone and leave others alone. I can see how you thought what you did about the missing children given my threats to them, even if you were misguided and your actions premature. I know it’s not… normal to have a house made of candy, but with my magic it’s what’s easiest. My sister and I used to fantasize about a candy house when we were young and I finally became powerful enough to realize that dream.”
“And you like candy!” Jin Ling pipes up, clearly put out by being excluded from the conversation.
Jiang Cheng’s blush returns and he coughs. “And I like candy,” he admits. “A silly weakness for a grown man.”
It’s quite the contrast, the scowling man in dark colors next to his pastel candy house, but it doesn’t seem silly to Nie Mingjue, so he shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s silly. You should be able to like what you want. It strikes me as rather…” Nie Mingjue flounders for the right word, until the one he’s been thinking since he first saw the other man pops out, “…cute.”
Suddenly, they’re both blushing.
Nie Mingjue clears his throat, considering the enchanting man not two feet from him who fills him with a burning curiosity to know more. It is more than he ought to ask or than he deserves, but he dares to hope the witch will grant him one further kindness.
“Please, allow me to atone for my transgression... perhaps I can build you a strong, inedible fence to keep out intruders, be they children or animals?” Nie Mingjue offers tentatively.
The witch hesitates, but eventually he slowly nods and agrees. “…I suppose that would be helpful.”
As a broad grin breaks across his face and he moves to explain his vision for the fence to Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue is rewarded with a shy smile and a fresh wellspring of hope in his heart.