The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 2 - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: How to Buy Out a Contract

“So, how much does it cost to buy out a courtesan’s contract?” Lihaku asked. He and Maomao were sitting in the room that connected the rear palace to the outside world. When Maomao heard Lihaku’s question, her mouth dropped open. Since he’d summoned her personally rather than sending a letter, she’d assumed he had some new information to give her about the incident. But this was what he wanted to know?

I just knew he was a big, dumb mutt.

Lihaku clutched his head until finally, unable to take it anymore, he pounded the desk between them and exclaimed, “You’ve got to tell me, young lady!” The eunuchs guarding the entrances on either end of the room observed the commotion but clearly considered the entire thing a headache.

Evidently, on a recent visit to the Verdigris House, Lihaku had heard some talk of someone buying out one of the ladies’ contracts. One of the three princesses, no less. Lihaku, who was very passionate indeed about Pairin, one of said princesses, couldn’t let the subject go.

“There are any number of answers to that question,” Maomao said.

“For one of the very best courtesans, then.”

“I hear you,” Maomao said, studying him from under lidded eyes. She requested a brush and an inkstone from one of the guards, and Lihaku provided some paper. “Market price can change in a heartbeat, of course, so consider this to be merely a guesstimate,” she said. Then she wrote the number 200 on the paper. This was roughly the amount of silver your average farmer could expect to earn in a year. A nice, cheap courtesan could be had for about twice that amount. Lihaku nodded along.

“That excludes celebration money, though,” Maomao informed him. A courtesan’s actual buyout price could be influenced by factors like how long was left on her contract and how much money she might be expected to earn during that time, but one could also find oneself paying almost double that amount again on top of the buyout. For it was the custom of the pleasure district to see its ladies off with the grandest of celebrations.

“Give it to me straight. How much can I expect to pay in all?”

Maomao was somewhat stymied by Lihaku’s soulful look. It’s not an easy question to answer, she thought. Pairin had earned herself many customers, and a commensurate amount of money, since making her debut at the establishment. She didn’t owe the brothel anything for clothes or hair ornaments, and in fact her term of service as such had been up long ago. She remained at the Verdigris House—and kept earning—because her sexual preferences happened to make her perfect for courtesans’ work. If a woman’s buyout price were purely about offsetting her debts, well, then Pairin’s would have been virtually nil.

How old is she this year, again? Maomao wondered. Pairin was the oldest of the three princesses, to which she had belonged since before Maomao was born. Yet her skin was still lustrous and she had honed her specialty, dancing, over many years. Her youthful looks even sometimes prompted rumors that she stayed young by sucking the essence out of men. There were practices—the so-called fangzhongshu, or “arts of the bedchamber”—that supposedly allowed both men and women to maintain their vital essence by making love, and Maomao had occasionally wondered idly if Pairin had learned those abilities.

Judging strictly by age, Pairin’s value should have been naught, but her beauty remained undiminished, as did her energies. At the same time, the old madam wouldn’t want her three princesses to stagnate; she would be looking to move the oldest of them—Pairin—along one of these days. Maomao had heard her muttering about it on her last visit home.

Pairin had been a model courtesan, supporting the Verdigris House when it had teetered on the brink, but she couldn’t rest on these laurels forever, nor could the Verdigris House rest on her. It would have to foster a new generation of famous faces while it was in the ascendant, lest its current crop suddenly turn out one day to be old and dusty.

Maomao scratched the back of her neck and grunted thoughtfully. “If anyone was going to buy Sis—I mean Pairin—out, it would be one of two people.” She searched her memory. It was likely to be someone Pairin knew well; the Verdigris House didn’t take that many new customers.

One of the candidates was the head of a prosperous merchant business, a lavish spender who had been so good as to continue patronizing the Verdigris House even when it had fallen on hard times. A decent old man. He’d often given Maomao candy when she was little. He frequently came not to stay the night as such, but to have a drink of wine and enjoy watching a dance or two. He’d spoken of buying Pairin out more than once. The greedy old woman had managed to put him off the subject each time, but if he were to raise the possibility again now, she might be more receptive.

The other possibility was a high-ranking official who was a regular client. Still young, only just past thirty, Maomao didn’t know exactly what kind of official he was, but when she thought back to the jeweled ornament she’d seen on the hilt of his sword some years ago, she realized that at that time he had already ranked higher than Lihaku did now. Surely the man had been promoted since then, as well. He seemed to be quite a match for Pairin as far as nocturnal activities went: she was always in excellent spirits after a night with him.

Just one thing nagged Maomao about this second suitor. Compared to the indefatigable Pairin, he often seemed a bit...tired. She worried about how Pairin would get along after being bought out by either of these men.

Pairin was a beautiful woman and a superb dancer, but at the same time, she was renowned for never coming off second best in bed. It was even said that when she got too frustrated, her appetites could extend not just to the menservants of the brothel, but to the other courtesans and apprentices as well... In short, she was insatiable.

That was what caused the madam to consider not just the possibility of selling Pairin’s contract, but alternatively of letting her take over the Verdigris House. It was also conceivable that Pairin might simply leave the brothel, but her personality made that seem unlikely.

Even though it would probably be the most peaceful solution for her, Maomao thought. Formally she would retire, but she could be allowed to take customers in special cases, while on her own time she could love freely. She would have far more liberty than she’d ever had before, which would presumably please her no end.

Hmmm... Maomao eyeballed Lihaku again. She took him to be in his mid-twenties. He was toned and muscled, his brawny arms just the sort of thing Pairin liked. Not to mention that when he had come to the Verdigris House that first time, he and Pairin had gone into her room and not come out for the whole two days Maomao was home, yet Lihaku hadn’t appeared spent afterward.

“Master Lihaku, how much money do you make?”

“That question seems kind of forward,” Lihaku said, a bit apprehensively.

“Around eight hundred silver a year?”

“Hey, don’t go around trying to put numbers on people.” Lihaku was frowning, but not very hard. A little low, she saw.

“Twelve hundred, then?”

This time he didn’t say anything. That suggested a number in the middle—about a thousand silver per year, say. A fairly good income at his age. To buy out a high-ranking courtesan, though, one ideally wanted to have at least ten thousand silver on hand. After all, such women could command a hundred silver for a cup of tea, or three hundred for a night’s company. Lihaku had returned to spend two or three more nights with Pairin since that first visit. He would have to stretch his salary to support that habit, but Maomao suspected the old madam herself was behind this. Most likely using Lihaku to help ensure Pairin didn’t become too frustrated.

“Not enough?” Lihaku asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“What if I promised to pay the money back after I make it in the world?”

“They’d never allow it. They’ll probably expect at least ten thousand in hard cash.”

“T-Ten thousand?!”

Lihaku was rooted to his spot. Maomao wasn’t sure what to do. If he could somehow raise the money, he wouldn’t be such a bad suitor for Pairin. She would no doubt appreciate his tremendous endurance.

Yes, she would appreciate it—but did that constitute love? Maomao wasn’t sure. Hmmm, she thought again. She looked at Lihaku, who was clearly depressed, and let out a breath.

He seemed to be thinking along the same lines she was. He looked at Maomao with uncertainty and said, “If, hypothetically, I was able to get together ten thousand silver, would I be able to buy out her contract?”

“Are you asking whether Sis would simply turn you down out of hand?” Maomao said coolly. The moment she spoke, Lihaku’s eyes became a little more bloodshot and he ground his teeth. She’d only mentioned the possibility; she hadn’t said it would happen.

Okay then, just one thing to do, she thought. Maomao rose and stood in front of Lihaku. “Please get up for a moment, sir.”

“All right...” Lihaku said dejectedly. Maybe a disappointed dog is an obedient one, for he promptly did as Maomao said.

“Good. Now take off your shirt, raise your arms to shoulder height, and flex.”

“All right.” Lihaku began to do as he was told, but he seemed to be causing some alarm among the eunuchs on guard. They stopped him before he could remove his shirt.

“Don’t worry, nothing untoward is going on,” Maomao said. “I just want to have a look at him.” Despite her assurances, the eunuchs didn’t move.

Still openly disappointed, Lihaku sat formally on the chair.

“If I take it off, she won’t reject me?”

“If I know nothing else, I know Pairin’s tastes.”

“I’ll take it off,” Lihaku said promptly, and then he did so. He quelled the objections of the eunuchs by displaying his accessory of office.

Maomao circled around the posing Lihaku, examining him from every angle. Occasionally she would form a square with her palms and pointer fingers and peer at him through it critically. He had the carefully crafted body of a military officer. Nothing slumped or sagged, and muscles covered virtually everything. His right arm was slightly larger than his left, suggesting he was right-handed. Pairin was ravenous and would devour almost anything if she had no other choice, but like anyone else, she had her preferences. If she’d been here at this moment, she would have been licking her lips.

“Very well. Now the bottom half.”

“The bottom half?” Lihaku said plaintively.

“I insist.” Maomao’s expression was perfectly serious.

Lihaku shuffled out of his trousers, though he didn’t look thrilled about it, until he was standing there in nothing but a loincloth. Maomao’s face didn’t change; she continued to study him with almost scientific rigor.

Lihaku’s legs and hips were as sturdy as the rest of him, demonstrating that there were no imbalances in his training regimen. There was no fat on his thighs, and the muscles flowed smoothly toward the joints of his knees, then swelled out again to his calves.

These really are exceptional muscles, Maomao thought. He didn’t have the wine-bolstered belly of so many who frequented the brothel; his skin was a healthy color. Just Sis’s type.

Maomao had Lihaku strike pose after pose, starting to think he just might have what it took. As Lihaku started to warm to the exercise, he took the positions with ever more vigor.

Finally, Maomao was ready to inspect the most important part. “Now, if you’ll remove your l—” she started, but she was interrupted by the door banging open. Lihaku, who had looked downright enthusiastic an instant ago, blanched. The eunuchs looked like they thought they might be given the death penalty.

As for Maomao, her mouth simply hung open.

“What are you all doing in here?” The overseer of the rear palace (a vein standing out prominently on his temple) was standing in the doorway, accompanied by his aide. A bevy of palace women who were hanging around hoping to get close to Jinshi scattered and even fainted as if they had seen something unbearable.

“Good day to you, Master Jinshi,” Maomao said mildly.

Some things in the world were mysterious, Maomao thought. For example, why was she sitting so formally just then? And why was Jinshi looking at her with such a chill in his eyes?

Lihaku had hurried home, still barely dressed. Maomao thought the whole scene was ridiculous. She also felt it was vaguely unfair, but having the soldier stay seemed like it would somehow have made things even more complicated than they already were, so perhaps it was just as well for him to go.

“What were you doing?” Jinshi reiterated. Maomao looked up at him, privately observing that the beautiful are truly fearsome when roused to anger. Jinshi had crossed his arms and was standing imposingly in front of her. Behind him, Gaoshun stood with his hands together and the impassive expression of a monk contemplating Emptiness. The eunuchs, looking weary, had resumed their positions by the doors, though they stole occasional glances at their glorious chieftain.

“He simply came to me for advice,” Maomao said. She’d informed Hongniang at the Jade Pavilion, per protocol. She’d finished the laundry in the morning, and as there were no tea parties planned for today, a food taster would not be necessary. Maomao had no work duties to attend to until evening.

“Advice, eh? Then what was he doing looking like that?”

Ah, Maomao thought, so that was the issue. Despite the fact that there had been guards present, it was admittedly beyond problematic for a man from outside the rear palace to be seen in such a state. She vowed to resolve what was obviously a misunderstanding.

“It was nothing inappropriate, sir. I never touched him; I was only taking a good look.” She tried to emphasize that point: she hadn’t laid a finger on him. That was what she wanted Jinshi to take away from this.

Jinshi, though, reacted poorly; his eyes went wide and he looked like he might fall over backwards. Gaoshun, meanwhile, seemed to be advancing from the contemplation of Emptiness to the realization of Liberation. Maomao wondered why he was looking at her with the unperturbed compassion of a bodhisattva.

“A good look, you say?”

“Yes, sir. I was only looking.”

“To what end?”

“I should think that was obvious. I needed to make sure his body would be satisfying, and examining it in the flesh was the only way.”

In a conversation about who would buy out Pairin’s contract, Maomao wanted to be sure to take her sister’s feelings into special consideration. Pairin was a woman who loved often and much, and it would be ideal, in Maomao’s opinion, if she could go to a man she truly cared for. If Maomao had thought Lihaku was too far removed from being Pairin’s type, she certainly wouldn’t have offered him any further advice. She wasn’t such a soft touch as that.

Maomao had grown up at the Verdigris House, at least until she had been torn away from her old man. In her youth, it had been the three princesses—Pairin, Meimei, and Joka—along with the old madam who had seen to her upbringing.

Pairin was unique in that although she had never borne a child, her breasts still produced milk, and it was this milk that had fed Maomao as an infant. When Maomao was born, Pairin had only just graduated from her apprenticeship, but she was already plenty voluptuous. Maomao always thought of Pairin as “Sis,” but in reality it was something more like “Mom.” Incidentally, she took this informal tone with Pairin lest Meimei and Joka get mad at her.

Maomao suspected that if Pairin went to one of the two long-standing prospects, she was unlikely to have the life she truly wanted. Even so, Maomao wasn’t sure it would be best for her to simply go on and end up like the old madam.

Many former courtesans gave up on having children. The constant use of contraceptive drugs and abortifacients robbed their wombs of the strength to foster a child. Maomao didn’t know if this was the case for Pairin or not. But when she remembered her youngest days, being rocked to sleep in Pairin’s arms, she thought it would be a shame for Pairin never to have children of her own. She was a woman of immense sexual appetites, but her maternal instinct was just as strong.

Lihaku was thoroughly smitten with the courtesan Pairin. He was well aware that as a courtesan, he wasn’t the only man to whom she offered her services. Yet as much as Lihaku could be a bit of a big puppy sometimes, at heart he was a serious and diligent man, and his determination to rise in the world for the sake of a woman was both silly and endearing.

Lihaku’s single-mindedness meant his ardor was unlikely to cool suddenly, and even if he should fall out of love one day, Maomao suspected she could help handle arrangements surrounding any breakup. What was most important was that he had impeccable endurance.

And just as she was appraising this specimen, Jinshi had arrived. As the one responsible for overseeing affairs in the rear palace, he probably wasn’t thrilled to have one of its women meeting with a random man from the outside. He chose, Maomao thought, the oddest times to be passionate about his work.

“His body—satisfying?!”

“Yes, sir. Appearance is just one part of a person, yet one may certainly hope it might be to one’s liking.”

As far as she had seen, Maomao could give passing marks to Lihaku’s body. She was already trying to decide how she would explain to Pairin that she hadn’t gotten a chance to evaluate the last and most important part of all.

Maomao had told Lihaku that it would take ten thousand in silver to buy Pairin out, but depending on how the matter was approached, he might get away paying as little as half that. It would depend in particular on how Pairin felt about him.

“Is outward appearance that important?” Jinshi finally stopped looming over her and took a seat instead. His foot tapped the floor restlessly; he was clearly still irritated.

“I should say so,” Maomao replied, reflecting that she found it oddly vexing that Jinshi of all people should ask this question.

“I must admit I never expected to hear that from you. So? What did you make of his looks?”

He’s just full of questions, Maomao thought. But it was an underling’s burden to answer every inquiry of those above her.

“His body shows excellent proportions. He’s lean all around. It’s clear he has a superb physical foundation, and I believe it’s fair to assume he’s quite dedicated. He must work at his training and physical conditioning each and every day. If I had to guess, I would suspect he’s quite capable even by military standards.”

Jinshi was agog at Maomao’s proclamation. She almost thought he found her response surprising. His expression swiftly soured until he looked downright irate.

“Can you really tell what kind of person someone is based solely on how their body looks?”

“More or less. The fruits of habit appear in the flesh, if you will.”

When providing medicine to a customer who was reluctant to talk about themselves, it was important to be able to discern who you were dealing with. Any apothecary worth their salt would acquire the skill whether they consciously intended to or not.

“And would you be able to evaluate me by my body?”

“Huh?” Maomao said in spite of herself. She almost thought there was a trace of sullenness on Jinshi’s face.

Wait...

Could it be he was jealous of Lihaku? That would explain why he had looked increasingly displeased over the course of their conversation. It was all because Maomao had been too lavish in her praise of the other man’s physical qualities.

I can’t believe this guy, she thought with a mental sigh. He just has to be reassured that he’s the more attractive one.

Jinshi had a beautiful face. So beautiful, in fact, that had he been a woman, he could have had the country wrapped around his little finger; and one suspected that even as a male, it wouldn’t have been impossible. And yet, despite having a countenance that was beyond compare, now he wanted to gloat about his body too?

I mean, I guess that’s fine by me, Maomao thought. The glimpse she had gotten of Jinshi’s body had shown someone surprisingly muscular and toned. She didn’t have to study it closely to see that he was quite attractive. But so what? Was he trying to suggest she should recommend him to Pairin if she thought he outstripped Lihaku in physical beauty? Come to think of it, had she ever even mentioned Pairin to Jinshi?

While Maomao thought all this over, Jinshi leaned his elbows on the table and watched her intently, his lips pursed. The eunuchs standing guard looked absolutely cowed, yet nonetheless entranced by his stormy visage. As for Gaoshun, he looked at Maomao with all the tranquility of an image of nirvana.

Maomao felt a bit bad for Jinshi, but she would have to be clear about this here and now: Jinshi lacked the one thing Pairin considered more important than any other in a man. No matter how exquisite his other physical features might be, without that crucial thing, it would be no use even talking about it.

“I did see your body, Master Jinshi, but I’m afraid there’s simply no point,” Maomao said, albeit reluctantly. The atmosphere in the room iced over immediately. Gaoshun went from looking like a saint in nirvana to looking like the criminal Kandata as the spider’s thread broke. “I’m quite sorry to have to tell you this, sir,” Maomao went on, “but you simply aren’t a match for my elder sister.”

“Huh?” This time it was Jinshi’s turn to sound completely flummoxed.

Gaoshun pressed his forehead against the wall.

○●○

Lihaku could only wonder what in the world was going on. The eunuch who had given him the glaring of a lifetime over his little blunder the day before was now here in front of him—and on his unimpeachably lovely face was a smile.

The man’s name was Jinshi, Lihaku recalled. Jinshi seemed a bit younger than Lihaku, but he was also in the Emperor’s confidence. With that gorgeous face, rumors occasionally cropped up of a dalliance between Jinshi and the Emperor, but at the very least Jinshi seemed serious about his job; there was nothing to complain about in that respect. The way he could cause virtually anyone, man or woman, to fall head over heels for him could be a bit of an issue, but otherwise, in Lihaku’s opinion, there was nothing objectionable about him. As for Lihaku, though, he wasn’t the type to be interested in another man, no matter how lovely.

All the same, when that man showed up practically out of the blue and started staring intently at him, Lihaku was a little bit lost for what to do. He was just glad there was no one else around to see them. They were in the officers’ building, which was rarely very populated. One particularly eccentric commander made his base of operations here, a person with whom everyone else preferred to have the minimum of contact.

Word was that the eccentric had been out and about quite a bit recently, and Lihaku thought maybe this eunuch had been press-ganged into helping with something around here. Lihaku had submitted his paperwork and tried to get out of the building as quickly as he could so as not to get dragged into anything himself, but just as he had been leaving Lakan’s office, he had bumped into this eunuch. And now he was facing that mystifying smile.

Speaking of mystifying, the aide standing behind Jinshi was the man who had requested Lihaku to be his go-between at the brothel. Allegedly, he was an old acquaintance of one of Lihaku’s superiors. He’d wondered how the man knew the freckled palace woman Maomao, but now it was starting to make sense.

“Might I have a moment of your time?” Jinshi asked. It was a polite request, but Lihaku was hardly in a position to refuse. Although the other man was younger than him, the jeweled ornament hanging at his hip showed a more esteemed color than Lihaku’s. If he didn’t do as he was asked, there was no telling if he would ever get the promotion he sought.

“As you wish,” was all he said, and then he followed after the eunuchs.

They were in a courtyard of the palace, a place the officers often went to enjoy the refreshing breeze on summer nights. Admittedly, Lihaku wasn’t a frequent visitor; he had never been terribly attuned to aesthetics. In this season the chill in the air went beyond refreshing; it was getting downright cold. Between the time of year and the time of day, they could count on not being disturbed.

In summer, flowers called bigleaf hydrangeas would have been putting out blooms as large as embroidered hand balls. Apparently they were unusual flowers that had been brought from an island country to the east, and depending on the day the blossoms might be red or they might be blue. The commander had gone out of his way to have them planted here. The blooms bore some resemblance to lilacs, but at the moment they simply looked like stubby bushes. Lihaku sometimes wondered if they gave the man a bit too much discretion, but one heard tell that even the general had trouble asserting himself with the monocled man, so maybe there wasn’t much to be done.

Jinshi took a seat in an open-air pavilion, then gestured for Lihaku to do the same. Left with no other choice, he sat down facing the eunuch.

Jinshi set his chin on his clasped hands and fixed Lihaku with a radiant smile. His aide, behind him, seemed entirely used to this, but Lihaku found himself somewhat unsettled. It was ridiculous, but the smile was so brilliant that he almost wanted to look away. He realized now that all the talk of how Jinshi could have brought the country to its knees if he were a woman was more than idle gossip. But he was a man. Even if he was missing something normally considered important to one.

One could be deceived by his nymph-like smile and silken hair, but his stature and the broadness of his shoulders gave him away. He didn’t look too frail even compared to his own aide, who looked distinctly like a military man, and anyone who was misled by the delicate smile into thinking they might have their way with this person would seem likely to find out otherwise, and painfully. Every motion he made was entrancingly elegant, yet also utterly efficient and precise. Lihaku had thought so even when simply following along behind the eunuch. He’d also thought the man looked somehow familiar, but he couldn’t place him. The thought nagged at him, even though he’d only ever caught glimpses of Jinshi; he’d never really seen him face-to-face. What did a person of such high station want with him?

“My attendant informs me that you, my boy, have your heart set on somebody.”

Would it be overthinking it, Lihaku wondered, if he felt the crack about “my boy” was a somewhat unnecessary twist of the knife? It took him a second to understand who Jinshi meant by his attendant, but he realized that in this context it could only be the scraggly, freckled girl. Come to think of it, she had apparently done a stint in the outer palace—Lihaku realized she’d been working for this eunuch, of all people. He put his hand to his chin unconsciously.

He’d always thought it would take someone of very particular tastes to hire that woman as their personal servant. He never would have imagined this gorgeous eunuch would have those tastes.

Even recognizing that the situation in which Jinshi had found them would have required some explanation, though, Lihaku was a bit taken aback to realize she had told Jinshi of his desire to buy out Pairin’s contract. Maybe that was what inspired the eunuch to smile so intently at him. At his young age, for him to aspire to buy out one of the most beautiful, most revered courtesans in all the land was humorous indeed.

And frankly, Lihaku didn’t mind if Jinshi thought he was a buffoon. Let him laugh at Lihaku—but if he intended to make light of Lihaku’s beloved Pairin, then things might be different.

Pairin was a good woman. Not just a good courtesan—a good woman. He pictured her, smiling at him in bed. Saw her dancing, holding up the hem of her robe with two fingers. Thought of the way she served tea with attention to every detail.

Some might say that was just what a courtesan was supposed to do, and with such people there would be no room for further discussion. But Lihaku didn’t mind. He didn’t care if it was real or not. As long as he believed in it, it didn’t matter.

He’d seen more than one of his colleagues lose themselves in women and gambling, and to those around him, perhaps he just looked like another such lost cause. Those who would tell him that Pairin was no good for him no doubt had his best interests at heart. And for that he was grateful—but he wished they would butt out.

Lihaku went to the Verdigris House of his own volition. Frequently he didn’t even see Pairin, but was simply served tea in the front room by an apprentice. And that was fine with him. It was part of Pairin’s business to be as unreachable as a flower on a distant peak. If she charged a month’s silver for a cup of tea, who was anyone to say that was greedy? Pairin poured all of herself into being a courtesan; she was living merchandise. Any who claimed she was too expensive simply didn’t understand.

That was why if the eunuch across from Lihaku tried to belittle Pairin, Lihaku was prepared to get physical. He knew perfectly well that it might cost him his head, but he could live with that, so to speak. He had never compromised his principles, his beliefs; and this way of life, as straightforward and unrelenting as a charging animal, had always suited him. If those around him thought he had gone mad for some woman, let them.

For the moment, he controlled himself with an effort, pressing his trembling hands together and looking at Jinshi. “And what if I do, sir?”

He was careful not to add “It’s none of your business,” or anything else unnecessarily antagonistic. Jinshi appeared to pay no mind to Lihaku’s dark look; the heavenly smile remained unmoved. What Jinshi said next shocked Lihaku. “What would you do if I said I would shoulder the cost of purchasing her contract for you?”

Lihaku caught his breath, jumped to his feet, and pounded the table. The granite surface sent some of the force back at him. Only when the shiver had passed through his entire body was he at last able to speak. “What do you mean by that?”

“Precisely what I said. How much would it take to buy her out? Twenty thousand; do you think that would be enough?”

It was as if the number meant nothing to Jinshi, but it made Lihaku gulp. Twenty thousand was not an amount to simply give away. Certainly not to an officer one barely knew. Had Jinshi already spoken to Maomao about the probable cost? Or was the sum truly an afterthought to this man? Lihaku put his head in his hands.

The thought did go through his mind: if this man spoke of twenty thousand as if it were nothing, then half that would be less than nothing to him. But he resolved not to get lost in a naive fantasy.

“I’m overjoyed by your words, sir,” he said, “but I must wonder what would prompt such generosity toward someone you hardly know.”

Offers that were too good to be true always had a sting in the tail. Even a child knew that, and Lihaku wasn’t foolish enough to forget this basic rule. He sat back in his chair and looked at the man across from him. The eunuch’s expression showed no change despite having offered this staggering amount of money, although his aide, behind him, looked slightly exasperated.

“My cat is most wary, yet not only was she willing to speak to you, she seems to be earnestly considering you as a possible match for a woman she thinks of as an older sister.”

The “cat” must have been Maomao—it was the meaning of her name—and when Lihaku thought about it, he realized that she could indeed be catlike. She could be as suspicious of others as a stray cat, but when there was food to be had she would come just close enough to get it, take as much as she could, and then she would be gone again.

Lihaku had never wanted a cat. If he was going to have an animal, he would have liked a dog, something that could hunt with him.

Despite the eunuch’s choice of metaphor, though, and despite Maomao’s attitude, apparently she trusted Lihaku to at least some extent. True, the disinterest in her eyes had made it clear that she thought it was annoying to have to answer his questions, but answer them she did. Ultimately, it had led to this conversation.

“You’re saying that when a mistrustful cat takes to somebody, that’s reason enough to have faith in them,” Lihaku said, earning a slight flinch from Jinshi. He wondered if he’d said something wrong, but the soft smile was back on Jinshi’s face so quickly that Lihaku wondered if it had been his imagination.

“I did a bit of asking around about you,” Jinshi said. “I learned that you’re the son of a provincial official. To rise up the ranks in the capital must have taken quite a bit of work.”

“A fair amount.”

There were cliques and factions anywhere you went. His father had been an official, yes, but only a regional civil administrator. That had meant an uphill battle for Lihaku, and a good deal of time before anyone really took him seriously.

“They say you were discovered by a commander with an eye for talent and entrusted with a unit of your own.”

“Yes, sir,” Lihaku said hesitantly. He wondered just how much this man had learned about him. Outwardly, Lihaku was supposed to have been promoted after the commander of a small unit left the service.

“And who wouldn’t want to be on good terms with a promising young soldier?” Jinshi continued.

Many might, but rarely to the tune of twenty thousand silver.

Lihaku only really needed half that amount—or actually, if one factored in his own contributions and all he could scare up, even just a quarter of it. One quarter, or five thousand in silver. Would this man really just give it to him? Lihaku was nearly sick with wishing for it—but he shook his head.

He looked at Jinshi seriously and said, “I truly do appreciate your vote of confidence, and I confess I’m almost beside myself wanting to accept your offer, but I can’t take your silver. To you, she may be simply another courtesan, but to me she is a woman. A woman I wish to take to wife. And if I don’t do that with my own money, then what kind of man am I?”

Lihaku managed to say all this to Jinshi, though it wearied him having to be constantly alert to the tenor of his language.

He’d thought Jinshi might be peeved by his refusal, but that nymph-like smile didn’t change. He even thought it might have softened a little. Then the smile turned into laughter. “I see! I’m afraid I’ve been quite rude.” The eunuch stood, utterly elegant as he ran his fingers through his hair. Looking like he had stepped out of a painting of a classical beauty, he stood there with a satisfied smile on his face. “I think there may be something I will wish to speak to you about later. You wouldn’t mind?”

“Whatever you wish, sir.” Lihaku stood up as well; he pressed a fist respectfully into his open palm and bowed. The gorgeous eunuch responded with a short nod, and then he and his aide went home. Lihaku watched Jinshi go, almost befuddled by his elegance, until they were out of sight.

Finally he murmured, “What was that all about?” and scratched his head, truly puzzled. His heart dropped a little when he felt the bald patch that still remained where his hair had been scorched off. Then he sat down again, mumbling, “What am I going to do...?”

He would have to try to show his best side for his superiors at their next training session. Or maybe he could take on more work. No, no, there was something more important. He would send a letter to the woman he hoped to be joined to someday. He wouldn’t simply, unilaterally take her. He wanted to know how she felt as well. Whatever she said in reply might be only for politeness’s sake, but he would place his faith in it; it would be what sustained him.

“A’right.” Lihaku stuck his hands into his sleeves and set off from the courtyard at a brisk trot. He wondered what kind of branch would make the best accompaniment for his letter.

○●○

“Maomao, you’ve got a letter.” Guiyuan held out a bundle of wood writing strips. Maomao took it and undid the tie, to find the strips were covered in a light, flowing hand. It was a reply to the message she’d sent to the Verdigris House several days earlier.

“The old lady can say what she wants, but I’m still earning plenty.”

The letter was from Pairin. Maomao could practically see her sensuous older sister puffing out her ample chest.

“Besides, I’m still waiting for a prince on his white horse to come and get me.”

In one far country, white horses were what princes were said to ride when they came to rescue trapped young maidens. Pairin was still a woman, and she had a woman’s dreams. Maybe it was a bit late to call her a young maiden—she’d already been with more gentlemen than could be counted on both hands—but she didn’t give up on the fantasy. Maybe that stubbornness was part of what had preserved her youth for so long.

I sort of suspected, Maomao thought. If the prospect was someone who pleased her, she didn’t even need that ten thousand silver. He just had to play the part of her “prince.” The role demanded absolute physical strength and endurance, along with something that most men had but eunuchs didn’t. Add a dash of theatricality and a little bit of money with which to celebrate, and that would do the trick. No, it wouldn’t be necessary to buy Pairin out as such, but the community wouldn’t sit by and watch her go without marking the occasion.

The old madam herself had once said to Pairin, “If you want to retire, I won’t stop you. But we’re going to have the party to end all parties.” It was quite a striking remark from a woman who was normally so tightfisted. When Pairin left the stage, it would be commemorated as befitted one of the pleasure quarter’s most beautiful blossoms. A courtesan had her pride, after all. Thus, for a man who suitably impressed Pairin, even the old madam wouldn’t try to wring out too much. But surely five thousand or so for the celebration. Anyone who couldn’t come up with at least that much money wasn’t fit for Pairin—and if they had the money but refused to spend it, that would show them even worse.

Yeah, even if ten thousand is out of reach, five thousand ought to do it. If Lihaku continued his steady rise up the ranks, he should be able to save up that much within a matter of years. The rest would be up to luck. If Pairin were to be brainwashed by the old woman, that would spell the end. Lihaku just had to get her out of there before that happened.

There was no part for Maomao to play in any of this. There was just one thing that worried her. Surely he wouldn’t go into debt to get the money, would he? she thought. If he took a loan to get the cash, the madam would sniff it out, and that would be it. “How can I let Pairin go to a man mired in debt?” she would demand. Maomao was fairly confident Lihaku wouldn’t do anything so silly, but she couldn’t be sure.

With these thoughts running through her head, she found herself at the end of the letter—where she discovered something very troubling.

“A certain someone was coming around talking about buying out a contract. I think the apprentices got the wrong idea.”

A certain someone. Right, Maomao thought. It was unusual for Pairin to be so indirect, but Maomao knew perfectly well who she was talking about.

Maomao tied the letter closed again and put it on a shelf in her room. When she emerged into the hallway, she discovered that Jinshi was visiting the Jade Pavilion for the first time in several days. He’d looked downright stormy the last time they’d parted, but today he seemed in high spirits. Maomao went to the kitchen to prepare tea, wondering what might have him so pleased.