My Lover is A Werewolf

Cilantro sometimes wonders if she's cursed. Cilantro's real name isn't actually Cilantro; the woman adopted her, named Amber, bought her from a merchant ship from the East. She was an abandoned baby crying for food. But even a crying baby is a commodity on the ship, and after bargaining with shrewd Eastern merchants, Amber finally agreed to a deal, exchanging two dozen jars of cilantro spice for her. The woman who couldn't be bothered to name her henceforth called her Cilantro. Under Amber's half-playful, half-serious upbringing, Cilantro grew up relatively safely. The fragmented memories left her more mature than any other girl her age, beginning to fumble her way through this strange world. Amber made Cilantro call her "madam" and taught her everything about this world. Returning to the present, Amber finally remembered her role as a mentor after laughing enough. She casually pulled out a small bronze spyglass with a long handle from one of her many pockets, the lens can enhancie the witch's vision, allowing her to see through all interference of blessings and curses, and even the truth of things. Grasping the handle, Amber carefully examined the potion at the bottom of the cauldron with the spyglass; then she raised her head and teased Cilantro: "Ah, my disciple, you really lack confidence if you need to perform a ceremony for brewing a labor-inducing potion." Cilantro didn't have time to stop her, and she instinctively glanced out the window, indeed seeing a cat darting by, followed by a girl shouting sharply: "Cilantro is practicing potion-making again!" Then came the chaotic clattering of pots and pans outside, accompanied by a flurry of footsteps, as if a call had been issued, summoning everyone from the village. Amber, who is usually carefree, understood what was happening and couldn't help but show a hint of apology on her face. Seeing her apprentice burying her face in her hands, it was easy to imagine that all the women in the village were now coming towards them with soup bowls in hand, their expressions fierce. The dream of Cilantro's magic did come true, but with a slight deviation. This deviation is probably like thinking you're majoring in the most popular mechanical engineering program, only to find out it's actually an exotic program called Agricultural Machinery and Biological Engineering. Magic is not free. Weak witches exchange sacrifices to the goddess for inspiration in casting spells. Cilantro's first encounter with magic was to replicate the ancient sacrificial ritual of the Greek witch Medea, symbolizing the renewal of all things, the never-ending cycle of life. The witches threw a dismembered old goat into the cauldron and resurrected the goat with its blood and flesh, a ritual every young witch must undergo. While other witches quickly had lively lambs in their hands, Cilantro, on the other hand, was sweating profusely, stirring the cauldron with a large spoon, but there was no sign of any living creature emerging from the steaming pot. Instead, as the cauldron boiled and the steam rose, a tantalizing aroma filled the air, making everyone's mouth water. Finally, as the other witches scrambled to grab pieces of lamb from the pot, a disheartened Cilantro began to doubt her own magic. However, she soon realized she was just focusing her skills in the wrong areas. When it came to the essential flying potion, while other witches were already flying around in the moonlight or plucking bird eggs from trees, Cilantro was busy trying to catch the flying potion, which resembled soft cotton candy, as it floated away. One witch managed to catch some and tasted it, finding it sweet and delicious. If it weren't for a careful senior witch who tasted the cotton candy and discovered its ability to make the body float, barely qualifying it as a flying potion, Cilantro might have been deemed unworthy by the goddess and lost her status as an apprentice witch. Currently, Cilantro's most successful magic was turning a cup of water into wine, with a scent so intoxicating that it almost led several wine-loving witches to start a banquet, causing a temporary chaos. She had once thought she was like Harry Potter, but it turned out she was like a cook. But Amber and the other senior witches didn't see it that way. They once suspected Cilantro was cursed, subjecting her to various strange potions and spells, almost pickling the poor girl. In the end, they came to a somewhat plausible conclusion: Cilantro wasn't cursed but had received too many "bountiful" blessings from the goddess, causing her magic to malfunction. So, before Cilantro could become a great witch, she became the witches' chef instead. Every time she opened a pot, a group of witches would gather eagerly, and when she failed, they would start their meal. "Is that today's soup base?" A girl popped up below the window, her head adorned with two golden braids, excitedly pointing at the basket on the ground. A large white egg lay quietly inside, surrounded by a delicate lace cloth, looking unusually oval and sweet, especially when paired with a bubbling cauldron nearby, anyone would be mistaken. With a slap, the window was closed, and Cilantro quickly approached to pick up her precious egg. All her hopes were pinned on this egg, and she couldn't let these heartless gluttons lay their eyes on it. This time, she wouldn't fail. Outside, the witches hesitated because of the powerful Amber, only daring to peek through the holes in the doors and windows. Not long ago, every young witch successfully bonded with a Familiar in the moonlit forest. From a variety of wildcats to rare white deer and even agile squirrels, each witch found a Familiar that matched her according to the guidance of the Moon Goddess. Similarly, guided by the moonlight, Cilantro found an egg. The witches, having tasted the sweetness of success, began to imagine possibilities, thinking that perhaps the Moon Goddess wanted to replenish the tired and hard-working attendants. So they urged Cilantro in various ways, hoping she would cook the egg, which looked very delicious. Cilantro had no intention of cooking the egg. In fact, when she received the egg, all her long-lost ambitions were placed within it, waiting for time to hatch them out. This is an egg, after all. Cilantro's mind was filled with various exotic creatures from legends. Dragons lay eggs, phoenixes lay eggs; an egg contained infinite possibilities, even if it hatched into an iron-eating beast, as long as it was supplemented with Eastern colors and crossing settings, everything would be reasonable. So, ignoring the sympathetic glances of others, Cilantro carried a strange confidence, envisioning herself riding a magnificent black and white creature freely through the world. She even carefully added an open pouch to her clothes and carried the egg amidst the ridicule and mockery of others. Therefore, to protect her beloved egg from a group of wolves, Cilantro carried it with her everywhere she went. The most dangerous situation was in a midnight, several wolves were about to pounce, but a cute-looking young man drove them all away. Those wolves were as scared of him as mice are of cats. He gently introduced himself that his name was Max ,and reassured her that her eggs would hatch a powerful Familiar, and she would become the greatest witch in the world. While he spoke, Cilantro kept looking into his eyes, not out of rudeness, but because those clear eyes always reminded her of a puppy she once released, Cinnamon. Cilantro was almost burst into tears when heard those words, she has been received so many mockery and meanness from other witches, this was the first time someone comforted her with so gentle manner. She was so moved that she even forgot to ask where the man lived. Fortunately, after that midnight, everytime she encountered wolves, and everytime she felt she was about to lose her egg, those wolves seemed to be summoned and left. Gradually, when those wolves saw Cilantro and her egg, they pretended not to see them. This also made Cilantro more confident in her egg. Even Amber, who enjoyed teasing her apprentices, found it hard to watch, punishing a few witches who laughed at Cilantro's expense. But Cilantro didn't care. She believed that she wasn't carrying just an egg but hope, dreams. However, as the days went by and the egg remained unhatched, the witches became more and more expectant, while Cilantro became more and more anxious. In fact, she was also a little afraid, afraid that her identity as a visitor from another world had truly offended the local gods. As the saying goes, thoughts by day, dreams by night. In Cilantro's nightmares, her beloved egg finally hatched, only to produce a bucket of McDonald's, which was then devoured by a group of witches with undead faces. Waking up from the nightmare, Cilantro refused to continue waiting indefinitely. She decided to try using a hatching potion, but ultimately, she was afraid of her own hands. Afraid that while boiling the egg, it might turn into a boiled egg, Cilantro hastily prayed to the Moon Goddess, asking for forgiveness for any possible disrespect and offense she had shown before. But before she could muster her emotions and express her loyalty, she was interrupted by the mischievous Amber. "I still have some hatching potion here. You can use mine." Amber surprisingly showed some kindness. She carefully drew the curtains, reinforced the door and windows with magical seals, and even made threatening gestures to those outside. Cilantro was about to say something when suddenly, there was a sound, and both mentor and apprentice quickly glanced at each other. The air around them condensed instantly, and the boiling water in the cauldron, along with a faint sound, seemed to freeze in the tense atmosphere before the egg opened up. Both inside and outside the house fell silent, even the cat couldn't help but tiptoe, as if everyone realized something. Trembling, Cilantro's shoulders were stiff as stone, unable to turn around to face the sound of the eggshell breaking behind her. For a long time, as she heard something land on the ground, Cilantro regained her senses and looked toward Amber with a raised eyebrow, only to witness the birth of the Familiar. Amber's expression was as varied as the bottom of the burnt cauldron. "It's alive," the woman tried to find a neutral word. Cilantro held her breath, waiting for her answer. She almost didn't dare to breathe, but if she didn't ask directly, her heart wouldn't be able to take it. She tentatively asked, "What color is it?" "White," Amber said. Cilantro's heart sank, and she considered all the possible Eastern mythical creatures that could be white. "Is there black?" Could it be a panda? The excited expression on the girl's face made Amber a little embarrassed. "There's no black, but there's a little red." White with a little red? Cilantro's expression fell. What kind of creature was this? "Will it match me?" she asked. "It... matches you very well," this time Amber was sure, nodding as if she were pounding garlic. White with a little red, and it matches her Eastern style perfectly. Could it be a crane? Cilantro turned her head eagerly, ready to embrace her compatriot, only to see a snowy white, round, red-footed figure, exactly as described by Amber. White, with a little red, perfectly matching her Eastern style... It was a big red goose. The black-haired girl and the big white goose stared at each other, both feeling a bit stunned. Cilantro felt a whirlwind in her mind, and then she couldn't feel anything at all. Amber looked sympathetically at the girl who had fainted on the ground, then glanced at the round, chubby big white goose. After a moment of thought, she tried to squeeze out a comforting sentence. "At least the Familiar looks more delicious than its owner. It might buy you an extra ten minutes of survival." In a daze, Cilantro reluctantly opened her eyes and vaguely saw the tattered book of blessings not far away, which she had casually thrown on the ground earlier. One page was wide open, with a large triangular corner folded on one side, showing signs of frequent reading. "An underage witch must hunt a magic wolf alone on the night of her eighteenth birthday under a full moon, and offer the wolf's head to the Temple of the Goddesses. Those who fail to complete the sacrifice ritual will be stripped of their magic and forever cursed by the Moon Goddess." She now felt like she was cursed.