The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 1

by Natsu Hyuuga

  Maomao was being shown around the residence along with two other serving women. Ah-Duo’s head lady-in-waiting, Fengming, was a plump, garrulous beauty who delivered fluent exposition as they trotted through the household.

  “I’m sorry, having you brought here on such short notice,” she said. The chief lady-in-waiting of one of the Emperor’s four favored ladies was likely to be a woman of no mean station herself, and Fengming’s willingness to engage the lesser women was endearing.

  Wonder if she’s the daughter of a merchant family or something, Maomao thought. She and the others had been summoned to help with the great spate of cleaning that marked the turn of every year. There weren’t enough hands at the Garnet Pavilion to do it alone. And is she injured? Maomao wondered, glimpsing a bandage around Fengming’s left arm. Maomao’s left arm was likewise bandaged. She was tired of people looking at her with alarm every time they saw her scars.

  The women let the eunuchs handle the physical labor, while they passed the day airing out the furniture and scrolls to protect them from bugs. And there were so many of each in the Garnet Pavilion, many more than in Consort Gyokuyou’s residence. Such was the quantity Ah-Duo had accumulated over her residence in the rear palace, the longest of any of the consorts.

  Maomao didn’t go back to the Jade Pavilion that evening, but slept alongside the other two serving women in a large room at the Garnet Pavilion. She was given an animal-fur blanket to ward off the cold that was indeed very warm.

  I haven’t been told what to do exactly. Maomao concentrated on cleaning, just like Fengming said. The plump lady-in-waiting was generous with her praise, making it that much harder to slack off. Maomao started to suspect Fengming was in fact a dexterous user of people.

  Fengming seemed like the type of woman people had in mind when they talked about a good wife who did her chores with a glad heart. She had been with Ah-Duo for the consort’s entire time in the rear palace, meaning she was well past the usual age of marriage, and even Maomao found herself thinking that was something of a shame. She knew that as head lady-in-waiting, Fengming could earn more than many unskilled men, but she wondered if it had really never occurred to her to find a husband. Wasn’t that something most people thought about? Maomao knew the other three ladies in the Jade Pavilion talked about it often. They had no intention of leaving Consort Gyokuyou’s side for some time yet, but still they dreamed of a dashing princeling appearing for them. “Dreams are free, so have your fill,” Hongniang would say with a smile. Maomao found the remark strangely frightening.

  First time in a while I feel like I’ve actually worked, she thought. Then she curled up, just like her namesake, the cat, and was soon asleep.

  Is the mastermind behind that poisoning attempt really here? Maomao wondered. The ladies-in-waiting at the Jade Pavilion were extremely hard workers, but even by that standard, Maomao had to admit that the women at the Garnet Pavilion were no slouches, either. All of them adored Consort Ah-Duo and wanted to do their best work for her.

  This was as true of their leader, Fengming, as it was of anyone. She never let herself be constrained by her station; if she saw a speck of dust, she would grab a cloth and wipe it away herself. She hardly seemed like the chief lady-in-waiting to a highly ranked consort. Even the industrious Hongniang would leave such tasks to the other women.

  I wish those proud peacocks at the Crystal Pavilion could see this.

  Consort Lihua, it seemed, simply wasn’t lucky in serving women. Maybe the reason she had so many of them was because each one did so little work. They were excellent talkers, but nothing more, and therein lay the problem. Then again, taking such problems in hand was one of the challenges of holding a high rank.

  Powerful loyalty, though, could bring its own troubles. It could motivate someone to attempt poisoning, for example. Some high official was trying to get his own daughter into the rear palace, leading to the prospective disenfranchisement of one of the four foremost consorts. If anyone was apt to be demoted, it was Ah-Duo—but what if one of the other consorts’ places were suddenly vacant?

  Gyokuyou and Lihua were more or less secure, but presumably the Emperor didn’t visit Consort Lishu. Maomao suspected that was one of the reasons her ladies-in-waiting took her so lightly. His Majesty doesn’t like them so... scrawny. Maybe it was a reaction against his father’s preference for extremely young girls: the current ruler was only aroused if a woman had enough meat on her bones. Every consort he visited, not least Gyokuyou and Lihua, possessed a certain voluptuousness.

  As such, Lishu had yet to fulfill her duty as a consort. Maybe that was just as well for someone so young. She was technically of marriageable age, yes, but a pregnancy at fourteen could put considerable strain on her body come childbirth. Even back at the Verdigris House, girls didn’t graduate from apprenticeship until fifteen. And until then, they didn’t take customers. It ultimately made them better courtesans who lasted longer.

  Maomao preferred not to think too hard about the former Emperor’s predilections. If one did a little math involving the respective ages of the current Emperor and his mother, one arrived at a most unsettling number.

  In any event, if someone wanted to get one of the four ladies out of the picture, Consort Lishu would be a logical choice.

  Maomao let her thoughts wander as she organized a kitchen shelf, upon which was a line of small jars. A sweet aroma tickled her nose. “What should we do with these?” Maomao, picking up one of the jars, said to a lady-in-waiting who was cleaning the kitchen with her. The two serving girls who had accompanied Maomao the day before were cleaning the bath and the living area, respectively.

  “Oh, those. Dust the shelf and then put them back the way they were.”

  “Are these all honey?”

  “Mmhmm. Lady Fengming’s family are beekeepers.”

  “Ah.”

  Honey was a luxury item. A person would be lucky to have even one variety, let alone a whole shelf full—but that explained it. Maomao peeked into several of the jars and saw honeys of different colors: amber, dark red, and even brown. They came from different flowers, and had different flavors. Come to think of it, she’d thought the candles they’d used for illumination the night before had a sweet scent. They must have been beeswax.

  Hmm... Something nagged at her, something to do with honey. The subject had come up recently, she was sure.

  “When you’re done there, would you dust the second-floor railing? It always gets missed when we’re cleaning.”

  “Of course.” Maomao put the honey back in its place and went up to the second floor with her rag. Honey. Honey... As she carefully dusted each post of the railing, she turned the word over in her mind, trying to remember what it represented.

  Well, now. From the second floor, she could see outside clearly. Including some figures among the shadows of the trees. They evidently thought they were hidden, but they were obviously observing the Garnet Pavilion.

  Is that Consort Lishu? The young consort was there, with only one attendant, her food taster. None of this was making sense to Maomao. Her memory went back to the tea party, and Lishu’s unaccountable aversion to honey.

  Honey...

  She just couldn’t let the thought go.

  Maomao appropriated the Jade Pavilion’s reception area to report to Jinshi about what had transpired at the Garnet Pavilion.

  “All of which is to say, I have no idea.” What she didn’t know, she didn’t know. Maomao refused to underestimate herself, but by the same token, she wouldn’t oversell her abilities, either. She was perfectly frank with the gorgeous eunuch. She’d told him all she’d come up with after three days in the Garnet Pavilion.

  Jinshi reclined on a chaise longue, looking elegant as he sipped a fragrant tea from some other land. It had a sweet aroma; the concoction involved lemons and honey.

  “I see. Yes, of course.”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  Maomao was just as happy that, of late, the gorgeous eunuch appeared a
little less sparkly than before, but it seemed to her that his tone had grown somewhat glib. Perhaps it was that the sweetness was gone from his voice, and he gave the impression of a young man, almost a boy. Maomao didn’t know what he wanted from her, but she was always and ever nothing more than an ordinary apothecary. She had no interest in playing spy.

  “Let’s try a different question, then. Hypothetically, if, by some special means, there were someone who was communicating with outside parties, who do you suppose that would be?”

  Again with the roundabout interrogation. I wish he would just say what he means. Maomao didn’t like to speak without proof. She had always been taught not to work based on assumptions. Now she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. If she couldn’t calm herself a little, she might just look at the entrancing young man as if he were a flattened toad. Gaoshun was, as ever, silently urging restraint with his eyes.

  “This is purely a possibility, but if there were such a person, I think perhaps it would be Lady Fengming, the chief lady-in-waiting.”

  “You have any proof?”

  “She had a bandage wrapped around her left arm. I walked in while she was changing it once, and caught a glimpse of some burns.”

  Maomao had previously dealt with an incident involving writing strips impregnated with various chemicals. She’d thought at the time that if the chemicals meant anything at all, they might represent some kind of code, but she had kept that to herself. Based on the fact that the outfit holding the writing strips had been scorched, it was a short leap to imagining the person who had once worn the outfit had a burn on their arm. She was confident Jinshi had investigated the possibility. It was probably what had led him to try to make Maomao his eyes and ears.

  Maomao thought, quite honestly, that the serene chief lady-in-waiting hadn’t looked like the type to try such a thing, but she had to admit this was only her subjective opinion. And one had to look objectively at things, or one would never arrive at the truth.

  “Mm. Passing marks for you.” Jinshi suddenly let his eyes fall on a small jar on the table. Then he glanced at Maomao, and that nectared smile appeared. She was sure she could see something sinister just behind it. Maomao felt all her hair stand on end. She did not like where this appeared to be going, not one bit.

  Jinshi picked up the jar and came toward her. “Such a smart girl deserves a reward.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You could. And you should!”

  “I’m quite happy without a reward. Give it to someone else.” Maomao fixed Jinshi with her most withering look in an attempt to dissuade him, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Was this a little punishment for hurting his feelings the other day? Unfortunately for them both, Maomao still had no idea why Jinshi had been so upset.

  The eunuch came closer. Maomao backed away a half step and found herself up against the wall. She looked to Gaoshun for help, but the reticent aide was sitting by the window, idly watching birds flying through the sky. The obviously artificial nature of the pose made him look most disagreeable.

  I’ll have to sneak him a laxative later.

  Jinshi, still wearing a smile that would have melted anyone else, stuck his fingers into the jar. They emerged dripping with honey. This little prank, Maomao felt, was going too far.

  “Don’t you like sweet things?”

  “I prefer spicy flavors.”

  “But you can stomach them, can’t you?”

  Jinshi showed no sign of relenting; his fingers crept toward Maomao’s mouth. This must be how he always comported himself, she thought. But beauty didn’t give you license to do whatever you wanted.

  The eunuch was studying Maomao’s piercing glare with a look of rapture.

  That’s right... I forgot he’s one of those types. She tried giving him a crushing look, as if he were a small, brown rat, but it was having the opposite of the effect she wanted.

  Should she take this as an order and simply let him stuff the honey in her mouth? Or should she try to salvage what remained of her pride by finding some way to escape?

  I could live with it if it were at least wolfsbane honey, she thought. Honey from a poisonous flower would at least have the virtue of being, well, poisonous.

  Suddenly, something came together in Maomao’s mind. She wanted to take a moment, tease out the threads of the thought, but with the pervert about to stick his hand into her mouth, she couldn’t think anything at all. Just as the fingers were about to touch her lips, she heard a voice.

  “What are you doing to my attendant?” It was Consort Gyokuyou, standing there and looking very displeased. With her was Hongniang, her head in her hands.

  Chapter 28: Honey (Part Two)

  “I grant Master Jinshi’s joke went a little too far, but it really was just a bit of mischief. Perhaps you might find it in your heart to forgive him?” Gaoshun was showing Maomao to the Diamond Pavilion, where Consort Lishu lived. His master had already been roundly excoriated at the Jade Pavilion for the incident in question.

  “Very well. If you’ll lick it off in the future, Master Gaoshun, I don’t foresee any problems.”

  “L-Lick it...” Gaoshun looked conflicted. His proclivities seemed to be, if you will, quite modest, and he had no inclination to lick anything off the hands of another man, not even Jinshi.

  “If you take my point, then that’s enough.” Maomao, lips pursed, proceeded ahead at a brisk trot.

  The man was an unrepentant pervert. Such a pretty face for such a repugnant personality. Maomao was sure he’d entrapped countless others with just the same trick. Shameless, that was the only word for it. If he hadn’t been so damned important, she would have seriously considered kicking him between the legs. She was somewhat mollified by the thought that you couldn’t kick what wasn’t there.

  At length they arrived at the Diamond Pavilion, a brand-new building planted with auspicious nantian bamboo.

  Consort Lishu greeted them wearing a cherry-pink outfit, her hair held back by a hair stick decorated with flower ornaments. Maomao thought the girlish ensemble suited her better than the elaborate getup from the garden party.

  Once Consort Gyokuyou had gotten involved, Maomao had requested an audience with Consort Lishu, in hopes of getting closure about something that had been nagging at her.

  Lishu didn’t bother to hide her disappointment when she saw Jinshi wasn’t with them. It was somewhat hard to blame her—he at least had that pretty face, after all.

  “May I inquire what it is you wished to ask of me?” Lishu reclined on a chaise longue, hiding her mouth behind a folding fan made of peafowl feathers. She lacked the authority and presence of the other consorts; in fact, she almost seemed nervous. She was still so young. Yes, she was beautiful—they didn’t call her the “lovely princess” for nothing—but she had yet to come into her womanliness. Indeed, she was even flatter than Maomao, who was as scrawny as a chicken.

  Two ladies-in-waiting stood apathetically behind the consort. Lishu at first regarded the unfamiliar freckled woman with annoyance, but then she looked closer and appeared to realize Maomao was one of the ladies-in-waiting who had been at the garden party. Her eyes widened and her disposition seemed to improve somewhat.

  “Do you dislike honey, ma’am?” It would have been just as well for Maomao to start with some pleasantries or idle chatter, but it would have been tiresome, so she dispensed with them.

  Lishu’s eyes widened further. “How did you know?”

  “It was clear on your face.” Anyone with eyes could have seen it, Maomao thought. Consort Lishu appeared more and more amazed. Maomao had rarely met anyone so easy to read. She went on, “Have you ever been sick to your stomach on account of honey?” Consort Lishu appeared yet more astounded. Maomao took that as a yes. “It’s not uncommon for a person who has experienced food poisoning to become averse to the food that did it to them.”

  This time, Lishu shook her head. “That’s not it. I don’t remember it. I was only a baby at the time.” As
an infant, Lishu had nearly died because of some honey. She found it hard to eat now because for her entire life, her nursemaids and ladies-in-waiting had told her to avoid it.

  “Listen, you little tart,” a woman said nastily. “How dare you march in here and start interrogating Lady Lishu?”

  You’re one to talk, Maomao thought. The woman had been at the tea party; she was one of those who hadn’t made the slightest attempt to aid her honey-hating mistress. Don’t act like you’re her friend now.

  The ladies-in-waiting seemed to have a simple con going: they treated visitors like villains, pretending to stand up for Consort Lishu. The guileless young woman came to believe there were enemies all around her. Her attendants assured her that they—and they alone—were her allies, and thus isolated her. Then the consort had no choice but to rely on her ladies. It was a vicious cycle. And so long as the consort didn’t realize that it all came out of her ladies’ malice, no one would ever figure it out. The women had simply made the mistake of getting overconfident at the garden party.

  “I’m here on Master Jinshi’s orders. If you have some kind of problem with me, I’d advise you to take it up with him personally.” Maomao would borrow the menace of the tiger, so to speak, and give the women something to think about at the same time. Surely she could at least be allowed that.

  The attendants’ faces were burning, and Maomao was most amused to ponder what pretext they would use to get close to the perverted eunuch.

  “One more thing,” Maomao said, remaining carefully expressionless as she returned her gaze to Lishu. “Are you acquainted with the chief lady-in-waiting of the Garnet Pavilion?”