webnovel

American female writer dreams back to ancient Tang Dynasty China.

A modern American female writer is carried to the Tang Dynasty by a profound dream. There, she is bestowed with another life, and in a foreign land's customs and emotions, she falls in love with a handsome and gallant knight. Their love quietly blooms in the ancient Tang Dynasty, yet is also filled with the bitterness of separation. The protagonist in the book endures parting from her family, portraying the sincerity and warmth of familial love. In the arena of power, she charts a course to the pinnacle of authority with the unique tenderness and wisdom of a woman. In that era, she writes her rise as a woman relying solely on her own strength, through twists and turns, finding confidants, and weathering betrayal. Bravely and wisely she navigates through the intricate fog, expanding territory and governing the people in peace. After enduring the wear and tear of time and the torment of spirit, it seems to have been destined in the stars, and she ultimately becomes an Empress. Seated high upon the throne, looking over the bustling Chang'an, she always remembers that all this may have started from a dream about time travel, but with her fresh strokes, she continues the legend of women, etching her name in the bronze plaques of history.

alexnovelman · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
26 Chs

Chapter Fourteen: The Witch's Melody

When she removed her mask, to my surprise, I saw a familiar face—it was the clairvoyant Lysandra who had traveled through time with me. Overwhelmed with joy, I cried out her name. She paused, looking at me, a stranger of ancient times, bewildered by how I could have known her name. She appraised me with curious eyes.

"I am Anna," I quickly explained.

"Ah! How can you be Anna, you look completely like a Chinese person!" Lysandra expressed in astonishment.

"I don't understand why I appear like this either, why I'm in the body of a Chinese woman upon coming here, and why you look exactly the same as you did—all of this is truly miraculous." The situation defied all logic, and I was just as confused about the reasons behind it.

Li Hao was completely stunned. He didn't understand what was happening, nor could he comprehend our conversation. Lysandra and I shared a knowing smile; we thought it best to keep our secret concealed. For Li Hao, the thought of such an inconceivable event was beyond his grasp.

I could only tell him that we had known each other previously.

Lysandra and I embraced tightly, grateful not only for our escape but also because she was someone from my own world, a familiar face and somewhat family by now.

She shared the werewolves' inner secrets—how they relied on ancient beliefs to live and hunt. Her stories allowed Li Hao and me to understand the deeper layers of the werewolf culture and history of this land. We exchanged smiles after enduring a series of harrowing adventures, treasuring our friendship and the miracle of life all the more. The trust and resonance between us spoke volumes of unspoken profound camaraderie.

In simple and halting words, Lysandra explained to us that she was actually a werewolf. In the past, certain reasons stopped her from revealing this, but since our last departure, she had come here. Living among them for many days allowed her to learn how to blend in, yet she never forgot her own identity. With her help, Li Hao and I gradually came to understand the rules and culture of the werewolf tribe—it turned out that within this seemingly savage tribe lay a strict and complex system of inheritance and belief. On every full moon, they as children of the moon, held grand ceremonies hoping for the prosperity and well-being of their tribe.

Lysandra emphasized to us that despite the tribe's fierceness, they deeply respected tribal law, especially the sacrificial ceremonies. So, we had to escape that day no matter what, or surely we would end up as offerings.

Finally, Lysandra, Li Hao, and I managed to escape the confines of the werewolf tribe. We navigated by the stars Li Hao had noted during the daytime, avoiding direction mistakes at night or unwittingly entering into more hazardous territories. We had to continue through the forest, and once we reached the perimeter, we would use hunting to stock up on dry food and water, swiftly crossing any open lands to eventually vanish into the vast grasslands or deserts, making it difficult for the werewolves and trackers from Chang'an to follow. In every step of our escape, we planned to avoid unnecessary noise and presence, evading leaving any traces easily found.

For long-term planning and considering potential chases, we even prepared winding and deceptive routes to mislead any werewolves or other potential threats that might come after us. With these meticulous path plans and tactical applications, we hoped to successfully escape from the control of the werewolf tribe and regain our freedom.

Plans, however, often fall short of changes. Shortly after we started our move, an elder werewolf guard noticed the anomaly in our area and let out a sharp, piercing alarm cry. The searching werewolves, seizing upon the opportunity, rapidly converged on the zone.

Beneath the moonlight, with sparks flying, the entire werewolf tribe was mobilized; every member grabbed their weapons and started scouring every corner. The wilderness, where life and death are intertwined, became a stage for pursuit and escape on this windy night. Lysandra proposed that as the tribe's witch, the werewolves hadn't yet noticed she was with us; she decided to part ways with us, setting a meeting place for a few days later, so she could assist us if we were captured. As long as we weren't caught, we were to rendezvous at the predetermined location. After separating from Lysandra, Li Hao and I made a dash for the deeper forest, with the trees becoming our sole cover.

The footsteps and roars of our pursuers rose behind us, chilling like the phantoms that chase life in the darkness. At this critical moment, Li Hao's bravery came to the fore; he tore through the obstructing vines, laying misleading trails, and then pulled me along as we continued to run. We dashed over streams and mounds of unnameable foliage, braving thorns tearing at our clothes, all for the hope of escape.

The deeper we ventured into the wilderness, the more we felt our insignificance and uncertainty. The frigid moonlight was our only companion, illuminating the path ahead, as well as the figures of the pursuers and the pursued.

Climbing over hillocks, skirting through bushes, we could almost sense each other's breath and heartbeat. But the swift silhouettes and the noises of the chasing soldiers behind us constantly reminded us that the road of escape would not be smoothly sailed. Directed by the moon's glow, we continued to break free from one constraint after another, stubbornly prolonging our flight.

Ultimately, after a bout of nearly hopeless fleeing, we found ourselves in an open field, realizing the vast grassland lay before us. In this uninhabited boundary, we halted our pace, knowing we were doomed. Simultaneously, the Wolf Priest discovered our escape tracks, and we were rendered inescapable.

Just then, a deafening howl cut through the sky, and the tribal werewolves rushed towards us like arrows. Li Hao and I tightened our grasp on each other's hands, recognizing that this moment demanded courage in the face of life and death.

Amidst the exhilarating chase and the brutal struggle for survival, an unprecedented clarity and calm arose within me. While I was thinking of a way to break through, a werewolf warrior's palm fiercely pressed against Li Hao's chest. In a moment of desperate action, I threw a punch at the werewolf but was easily subdued due to exhaustion. Our futile resistance only added to the ridicule; two struggling prey ultimately fell into the hunter's grasp.

The composed werewolf warriors bound us tightly with rough hemp ropes, completely ignoring our resistance and pleas, dragging us back to the tribe. After a heart-stopping chase, reality cruelly knocked us down. As the howls of the pursuers faded away, the forest was left only with the whispers of the wind and the sorrow of the moon, while Li Hao and I faced the fate that lay ahead.

It was midnight, and the howls of the werewolf tribe mingled with the beating of drums echoed through the forest. After a heart-racing pursuit, Li Hao and I were dragged back before the altar. Our hands were bound with ropes, and behind us stood the werewolf warriors with their fangs bared, eyes full of arrogant cruelty and triumph.

Being heavily surrounded at the altar, Li Hao and I understood that we might be facing the end of our lives. The tribe's crowd surged towards the altar, the werewolf priest clutching a sacrificial knife, its blade glinting in the moonlight as a harbinger of the impending sacrifice of offerings.

Silent prayers ran through my mind as I searched for a glimmer of hope in desperation. Disregarding the damp foliage scraping my cheeks, I gazed steadfastly at Li Hao. Amid these pivotal moments of life and death, I felt an uncanny calm, as if all fears had vanished.

Li Hao clenched his teeth, glaring at the onlooking werewolf warriors with rage and helplessness filling his heart. As a warrior, he could not accept such a humiliating end. Yet even with all his might, in this outnumbered situation, every effort seemed futile. Turning to see my resolute expression, our tenderness and firmness intertwined within.

The Wolf Priest, proclaiming cryptic incantations, made his way to the center of the altar, the firelight dancing on his face, poised for action. Our eyes met, silently bidding farewell, as if the years we experienced together had turned into splendid sparks, soon to dissipate with the wind.

However, just as the priest was about to lift the knife for the offering, an untimely shout shattered the night's stillness. From afar, it seemed someone was approaching. The tribe's crowd became restless; the priest's arm halted mid-air, and the entire tribe was suspended in a moment of pause. Li Hao and I, unsure what was happening, were granted a sliver of a chance to survive.

From the depths of the forest came rushing footsteps accompanied by her whispering murmurs. The fire around the altar flickered in the wind, as if revealing an uncertain fate of life and death. In our hearts, Li Hao and I silently pleaded, hoping to turn danger into safety and to be reborn. In this howling land of werewolves, shrouded by an enigmatic veil, our emotions for one another required strength and trust more than ever before.

As the mystical voice resonated through the air, space seemed to stretch. That figure emerged from the crowd, her silhouette billowing as if cradled in the hands of a mysterious cradle, her voice seemingly wrapped in the cold light of the moonlight—witch Lysandra had appeared. My heart leaped, knowing she was about to outwit these werewolves with her wits.

Adorned in animal furs, her head was crowned with a crescent-shaped headband, and her voice melded with the drumbeat, singing out a mysterious and captivating melody. All fell silent; every wary gaze turned towards the witch, even those of the warriors, who could feel her powerful essence.

The witch Lysandra's song carried enigmatic powers, an ethereal tune resonating deeply as if outlining the vastness of the stars and the stillness of the forest, enchanting all who listened. Each beat was laden with tense atmospheres, hinting at the full story and expectations hidden in her song.

Her song, particularly special, interwove tunes and words unheard by the werewolf tribe; she sang of their rustic history punctuated by occasional blessings and commands, adding layers of mystery to the message.

Before the werewolf tribe's altar, all eyes focused on the priest with the raised sacrificial knife, but the sudden arrival of the witch broke through the somber air of the ritual. She slowly advanced to the center, her innate charisma setting her apart from the rest of the tribe.

The witch Lysandra's voice floated as if descending from the heavens, permeating hearts. She danced amidst the firelight, her steps as light and enigmatic as if in unison with nature's forces. All who watched were captivated, even Li Hao and me, on the brink of despair and drawn into this unforeseen twist.

Suddenly, the witch's dance halted, and she sang aloud, her voice filled with impactful power. She declared that a celestial will had been revealed, claiming to have received a vision from the moon spirit. Pointing at Li Hao and me, bound upon the altar, she proclaimed that we were not ordinary captives but emissaries chosen by the gods, not to be sacrificed.

Every word she uttered seemed embedded with an authoritative power that werewolves exchanged looks of confusion, the priest's sacrificial blade trembling involuntably. The witch chanted previously unheard prophecies, asserting that offering the wrong sacrifices would bring misfortune to the tribe, while releasing us, the chosen emissaries, would gain the gods' favor and a bountiful year.