Release that witch

"Your Highness, wake up..."

He turned his head, but the voice didn't disappear; instead, it grew louder. He felt someone reaching out, gently pulling at his sleeve.

"Your Highness, Prince!"

Cheng Yan suddenly opened his eyes. The familiar screen was gone, the office desk was gone, and the wall covered with notes was also gone. In their place was a strange scene: low brick houses, a bustling circular square, and a gallows erected in the center of the square. He was sitting on a high platform across from the square, not in a comfortable swivel chair but on a cold, hard iron chair. There was a circle of people around him, staring at him intently. Some women dressed like medieval European noblewomen were giggling behind their hands.

Where am I? Shouldn't I be rushing to meet the deadline for the blueprints? Cheng Yan's mind was in a daze. Three consecutive days of overtime had pushed him to the limit, and all he remembered was that he couldn't hold on any longer. His heart rate had become irregular, and he wanted to rest for a moment on his office desk.

"Your Highness, please announce the judgment."

The person speaking was the one who had discreetly tugged at his sleeve. He looked old, about fifty or sixty years old, dressed in a white robe, somewhat resembling Gandalf from "The Lord of the Rings."

Am I dreaming? Cheng Yan licked his dry lips. Judgment, what judgment?

But he quickly found out. The people in the square were all looking towards the gallows, waving their fists and shouting. Occasionally, a stone or two would be thrown towards the gallows.

Cheng Yan had only seen such ancient instruments of punishment in movies—two tall pillars on both sides, about four meters high, with a wooden beam at the top. In the middle of the beam was a rusty iron ring, and a yellowed coarse rope passed through the ring, with one end fixed to the gallows and the other end looped around the prisoner's neck.

In this eerie dream, he realized that his vision had become astonishingly sharp. Normally, he couldn't see the words on a computer screen without his glasses, but now he could clearly see every detail on the gallows fifty meters away.

The prisoner wore a hood, and her hands were tied behind her back. Her rough gray dress was as dirty as a rag. She was slim, and her ankles looked fragile enough to be snapped with just a hand. Her chest was slightly swollen; it seemed she was a woman. She shivered in the wind but still tried to keep her body upright.

Alright, what crime could this person have committed that so many people were eagerly awaiting her execution?

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Cheng Yan's memories seemed to suddenly connect, and the answer almost simultaneously appeared before his eyes.

She was a "witch."