The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Caravan

The season was turning, bringing an unpleasant heat and humidity. Maomao reflected on how quickly time passed as she gathered up fragrant herbs to use to ward off the bugs.

“I think it’s time to change the wardrobe over,” Hongniang, Consort Gyokuyou’s chief lady-in-waiting, said, and if she thought it was time, then it was time. Thus the ladies-in-waiting found themselves laboring away among the clothing.

“So many dowdy old fashions!” Yinghua huffed, standing in front of a dresser. She, Maomao, and Ailan were handling this job while Guiyuan looked after the young princess. “Ailan, grab that thing on the topmost shelf for me!” Yinghua instructed, craning her neck to look up at the shelf. Ailan was the tallest of them, a fact she was self-conscious about but which was quite convenient for reaching things in high places. After she had dragged a trunk down from the top of the shelf, the (rather shorter) Maomao and Yinghua inspected the contents. They sorted the clothing into different categories and put them on poles to air out in the shade.

“Hmm. I guess this one wouldn’t be too embarrassing,” Yinghua said. She was sorting the clothes into those in which one could still be caught dead and those in which one could not. To Maomao, all the outfits looked equally sumptuous, but Yinghua was accustomed to the finer things and proved more discriminating. “This sort of thing used to be really popular once. But it’s better to avoid fads. Once they go, you’re left with stuff you can’t use.”

Maomao took the outfits deemed no longer viable and stuffed them back into the chest, then trundled into the hallway with it. These garments may have been old or outdated, but they had still belonged to one of the upper consorts. They were made of the finest material, and would be reworked or repaired and then gifted to other people. Not to the ladies-in-waiting of the Jade Pavilion personally, but rather to their families. Ladies-in-waiting sometimes received hair sticks or other accessories, but clothing like this was not something one could get away with parading around the rear palace in. The craftsmen would rework the outfits, and in their new forms they would be distributed in Gyokuyou’s hometown.

Pulling down another box, Ailan said, “You know, I heard new ladies-in-waiting will be coming before long,” as if the thought had just occurred to her. “With Lady Gyokuyou pregnant, we’ll need more hands around here, but it would attract attention if we were the only place to get new women. So instead they’re going to give all the consorts a chance to expand their retinues.”

Yinghua’s mouth hung open slightly at that. “What, all of a sudden? I mean, I’m happy to hear that, but...”

“They found a good reason,” Ailan said. “Think about it. When one consort shows up with more than fifty attendants, how are the other women supposed to feel?”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Yinghua said, her face darkening briefly.

Maomao, too, understood what Ailan was talking about. Or rather, whom: Consort Loulan, who had entered the rear palace with tremendous fanfare. For the Emperor’s favorite consort, by contrast, to have a measly five women simply didn’t look good.

“Did she even try to make do with fewer women?” said Yinghua.

“Watch it, Yinghua, or you’ll get another taste of Hongniang’s iron hammer,” Ailan responded. Yinghua promptly clapped her hands over her mouth. Maomao, meanwhile, concentrated single-mindedly on putting the unwanted clothes in chests and carrying them out. In this way they carried on, chatting and working, until they had discarded almost half the summer clothes.

“We did get rid of a lot,” Maomao said, puzzled, “but how will we manage now?”

“Not to worry,” Ailan said with a smile. “We’ve already commissioned a few new sets of clothes from the craftsman.”

“And a caravan will be coming soon. We can buy more then,” Yinghua added. Ailan gave her a reproachful look for stealing her thunder.

“A caravan?” Maomao said.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yinghua replied, brushing her hand along one outfit to check the feel of the silk. “It’s supposed to be even bigger than usual this time.” The excitement was evident in her voice. Perhaps the thought of it was what made her hand stop moving.

Caravans had once been groups of merchants who crossed the desert together, but the word had come to refer to any traveling sellers who visited, willing to engage in trade. Sometimes they did bring unusual items from strange lands, so the word wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but still it didn’t quite feel right.

The last caravan had visited during the time when Maomao had been effectively exiled from the rear palace, and the time before that, she had been a mere maid, unable to involve herself with such festivities. She had dealt with merchants in the pleasure district, so they didn’t hold any particular fascination for her, but the idea was understandably exciting in the rear palace, where distractions were few and far between.

“You should go have a look, Maomao. We’ll make sure you have some time in your schedule. Lady Gyokuyou usually gives us a little pocket money for things like this.” Yinghua grinned.

It happened just as the smile was crossing her face: Maomao and Ailan froze. Yinghua looked at them, confused, and they both pointed behind her.

Yinghua turned around slowly to find Hongniang hovering over her like a storm cloud. The chief lady-in-waiting wore a tight, crooked smile. Yinghua almost choked, but managed a feeble grin.

“I hear a lot of talking, but I don’t see a lot of sorting,” Hongniang said.

“Er— Wh-What?!”

Maomao and Ailan, for their part, promptly set about folding clothes. Yinghua’s mouth opened in an expression of betrayal.

I do want that pocket change, Maomao thought.

The incident, allegedly, cost Yinghua a bit of her spending money.

The rear palace was a big place, bigger than some towns. The women who worked there existed purely to serve the consorts, to keep up the buildings, and to hope for the vanishingly small chance that the Emperor might choose them for a bedmate. The unique situation bred rhythms and rituals of daily life that were likewise different from what one would find in an average city. As the roles of the palace women were broken down into cleaning, laundry, and cooking, it might be best to think of the place not as a city unto itself, but like a single giant household in which they all lived.

Yet in this whole huge place, it was impossible to find one particular thing that might have been expected. What was it? A shop of any kind.

“It looks like so much fun!”

Maomao met Xiaolan’s remark with a question. “You think so?” Xiaolan still seemed like a girl in some ways.

Palace women walked gaily among the tents set up in the plaza. The tents were packed close together, and, with nearly two thousand women serving in the rear palace, there was no room for the lower-ranking maids to squeeze in for a look. Unable to even admire the merchandise, the most they could do was to live vicariously by watching the other ladies admire it.

Maomao and Xiaolan were leaning against the railing of the room where the maids slept. Since the consorts and their ladies-in-waiting were all out having fun today, the minions had virtually nothing to occupy their time.

“Lucky them... I wish I could get some new clothes,” Xiaolan sighed, resting her chin on the railing.

“But you don’t have anywhere to wear them.”

“I know that. But I still want them!”

The lowest ranking of the palace women were generally only given work uniforms (three in the summer, two in the winter) and new outfits were provided only when an old one had worn out. Other necessaries, including hairbands and underwear, were likewise provided. Meals were served in the dining hall each day.

The families of the better-bred palace women might send gifts along with their letters, while the ladies-in-waiting of a consort might be given clothing or accessories by their mistress, not to mention snacks. Gyokuyou, for example, had granted Ailan paper on which to make her copies of the book.

With no shops around, none of these things were easy to come by. For Xiaolan, who had no powerful backer—no backer of any kind, in fact—chances to acquire new personal possessions were rare, and when they came, they went, well, like this. Only after the other ladies had been through the wares would she have a chance to pick through the leftovers for whatever she could afford with the paltry savings in her purse.

It was a strange feeling to see these shops all lined up here in the rear palace. The excitement in the air was palpable.

And only our quack to serve the whole lot, Maomao thought.

One might assume that any illness in a place this large would spread like wildfire, but in practice that wasn’t true. Sanitation in the rear palace was excellent. The palace women spent much of their time cleaning, and waste was dealt with efficiently. When enough of it had built up, it was flushed into the sewers, whence it went, not to the moat, but out to a great river. The moat was thus kept free of filth and stench.

The former emperor had utilized this site because there was already an existing sewer here, a technology that had apparently come from the west. Talk had it that the rear palace had once been an actual city, refashioned to serve its current purpose. Both the walls and moat had belonged to that city, so that despite its size, building the rear palace had actually been fairly economical. It was perhaps not surprising to hear that the prime mover behind the project had been the haughty but effective empress regnant.

Such sanitation measures alone went a long way in preventing the outbreak of illness, although if anyone did get especially sick, she was sent back home to her family. So the little world of the rear palace went round, with or without a quack for a doctor.

“Maomao, I think I can get a little time off on the last day,” Xiaolan said. Her eyes were sparkling—apparently this was an invitation to check out the shopping with her. Maomao had to admit she was pleased to be asked. She answered Xiaolan with a pat on the head.

When she got back to the Jade Pavilion, Maomao was greeted by the sight of some tired but satisfied ladies-in-waiting. While she had been out slacking—er, “having virtually nothing to do”—some merchants had come to the pavilion. The highest-ranking ladies of the rear palace didn’t have to trouble themselves to go out to the shops; the shops came to them.

The merchants were all women—for how else were they to be admitted to the rear palace? Nonetheless, there were more eunuch bodyguards than usual around, just in case anything should happen. They were familiar men, though, and the girls were sipping some tea, the pavilion’s domestic atmosphere undisturbed by the presence of the additional guards.

“His Majesty said Lady Gyokuyou could choose anything she liked!” Yinghua sounded as pleased as if she herself had been the one to receive this dispensation. She’d been terribly disappointed to have her spending money cut in half, but she seemed to have bounced back.

On the table was a stunning jade necklace the same color as Gyokuyou’s eyes. There was also quartz glass and an accessory box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Princess Lingli was thoroughly satisfied with a pretty silk ball she’d gotten, and in addition to clothes for the consort, a tiny robe for Lingli hung on the wall.

“Perhaps we’ve had a little too much excitement,” Gyokuyou said with a touch of concern.

“If anything, ma’am, I think you could have stood to buy more,” her chief lady-in-waiting, Hongniang, said somewhat emphatically. “I’m sure the other ladies all did.”

Hongniang chose a restrained way of expressing herself, but Maomao could easily imagine what she meant. Lihua’s ladies at the Crystal Pavilion, all talk and no work, had no doubt gorged themselves on shopping. Consort Lihua had plenty to spend, and presumably plenty was indeed spent.

Over at the Diamond Pavilion, Consort Lishu’s ladies-in-waiting had, one might guess, goaded their lady into purchasing things they wanted. The best one could hope for was that they hadn’t outright embezzled anything.

As for the Garnet Pavilion...well, Consort Loulan’s penchant for conspicuous clothing consumption spoke for itself.

Consort Gyokuyou, who, by contrast, had purchased hardly enough to fill a single room, seemed downright frugal to Maomao, especially for someone with the Emperor’s personal affection.

The consorts each drew a salary commensurate with their “jobs,” but they were also reimbursed for clothing and accessories, which were considered necessary expenses. The upper, middle, and lower consorts came to almost a hundred people altogether, and Maomao found herself wondering if the national treasury was going to hold out at this rate. That was something she didn’t need to worry about, though.

“In any case, others will come tomorrow, so I’m going to put away today’s purchases.” Hongniang started pulling outfits down off the wall, handing them off to Maomao. Each was richly colored and pleasant to the touch.

It was then that Maomao noticed these clothes were of a slightly different make than the ones Gyokuyou normally preferred. Hm? The consort usually liked to pair a sleeveless dress with a long skirt and then wear an overgarment with wide sleeves on top of it, but these dresses all had proper sleeves, accompanied by skirts that were to be tied with a sash just under the chest.

Maomao had a good guess at the reason. Consort Gyokuyou would shortly be finding sashes difficult to tie across her midriff.

“Was this the only type of thing they had?” Maomao asked.

“What?” Hongniang replied. “The merchants swore they were all the rage.”

So these were all they had. The ladies-in-waiting looked at each other questioningly. The women of the Jade Pavilion had done their shopping with only thoughts of Gyokuyou in their minds. But one would normally have expected a wider selection. And if one followed that fact to the assumption the merchants had been making...

No, Maomao must have been overthinking it.

At least, I hope I am.

Because if they had deliberately brought only this type of clothing to Consort Gyokuyou, it might suggest they had been trying to sound her out.

“I think tomorrow, you should ask them if they don’t have some outfits with lower sashes,” Maomao said. She thought perhaps it wasn’t her place, but Gyokuyou and Hongniang both seemed to take her meaning. The other three ladies-in-waiting looked at each other again, but Maomao’s insinuation had clearly gone over their heads.

“That’s a good idea. We should get a little more variety,” Gyokuyou said, setting some clothes on top of a box. Perhaps it was her imagination—but Maomao thought she saw a keen light flash through the lady’s eyes.

The caravan would stay for five days, during which the ladies of the rear palace would have an unaccustomed chance to enjoy some shopping. The highest-ranking consorts had no need to go out to the shops, so it was first the middle- and lower-ranking consorts and their ladies-in-waiting who circulated among the merchant tents, followed by the women in administrative positions, each whittling down the selection further as they bought whatever caught their eye. Only on the last day did the women of the lowest ranks have an opportunity to sift through whatever was left. The fact that even that seemed to be an exciting prospect spoke to how few diversions there were around here.

This caravan had come across the desert and carried many unusual wares from exotic lands. It must have passed through Gyokuyou’s homeland as well, for the women of the Jade Pavilion looked noticeably homesick as they studied the handicrafts.

Maomao was far more interested in any medicines or drugs that might be available, but such were understandably barred from being brought directly into the rear palace; tea leaves and spices, sold almost as an afterthought, were as close as the merchants came.

On the final day, Maomao, with a bit of spending money from Consort Gyokuyou, went to the market with Xiaolan just as she had promised.

“Wow, I can’t believe it!” Xiaolan hardly had a coin to her name and couldn’t afford anything on display, but that didn’t stop her eyes from sparkling at an array of western glasswork. Maomao found Xiaolan’s lack of affectation charming.

“This one, please.” Maomao picked out an especially attractive hairband and gently tied it in Xiaolan’s hair. The deep, peach-pink color suited her energy perfectly. It only took Xiaolan a second to notice something had happened, and then she was almost knocking Maomao over hugging her. Maomao wondered if this was what it would be like to have a little sister.

“You aren’t going to buy any clothes, Maomao?” Xiaolan asked.

“Don’t need any.”

Partly, she didn’t want to make a show of buying things in front of Xiaolan—but more importantly, she really wasn’t interested in clothes. She was far more attracted to the tea and spices. Xiaolan, almost giddy over her new hairband, was more than happy to accompany Maomao to the shops that most interested her. She had a gigantic smile on her face the entire time. Apparently it was just that much fun for her to window-shop at these crude carts-turned-market-stalls.

Maomao was determined to buy some of the tea and spices. The ladies of the Jade Pavilion had taken it in turns to come to the market over the final three days of the caravan’s visit, and Maomao had said she was content to go on the last day. This was the reason.

Last day means discounts.

Maomao wasn’t interested in gems, trendy clothing, or any of that stuff. The goods she was after were of small consequence to everyone else, so she was sure there would be plenty left over. Besides, this was the rear palace—a special place. A bit of good-natured ripping-off was to be expected.

If they think they’re going to take me for a ride, though...

Maomao’s wiles were sharp. She’d spent most of her life watching the old madam do business, after all.

She stopped at one of the shops selling tea. A quartz goldfish bowl was filled with pretty little buds tied into balls. Jasmine tea. When steeped in hot water, the buds would open, as pleasant to see as they were to smell as the tea released its lovely aroma. Sadly, it had mostly been bought up; there were only three buds left.

“I’ll take this,” Maomao said.

But at the exact same moment, another voice said, “This one, please!” Maomao looked over to discover someone pointing at the same bowl. It was a palace woman about half a head taller than Maomao, although in spite of her height she still looked and sounded quite young. The contrast left Maomao blinking. She couldn’t shake the sense that she’d seen the girl somewhere before.

The other girl looked almost as confused as Maomao—then she exclaimed, “Oh!” her eyes lighting up.

“How’s your kitty cat?” she asked.

That jogged Maomao’s memory. This was the girl who had helped catch the kitten since dubbed Admonisher of Thieves. Maomao still didn’t know her name.

“She’s well. She lives at the medical office for the time being.”

The other girl grinned widely. She seemed to have a rich range of expressions, all highly communicative.

“Oh! Shisui! You were able to get time off?” Xiaolan said, bouncing into the conversation between the two of them. These two must have already known each other. Come to think of it, Shisui was wearing the same uniform as Xiaolan, that of the shangfu, or Wardrobe Service. She must have gone to the laundry area pretty often; it was only through happenstance that Maomao hadn’t run into her before.

“Yeah, they owe me at least this much!”

“You’ve got that right,” Xiaolan said. It was an innocent, friendly conversation.

Maomao noticed the tea-seller looking at them. She went ahead and bought all three of the remaining bulbs of jasmine tea and asked for them to be packed separately. The woman wasn’t thrilled about that, but when Maomao asked for one of the other leftover teas as well, she came around.

Then Maomao distributed the packages, one to Xiaolan and one to Shisui, keeping the last for herself. “Maybe we should take our chat somewhere else so we don’t get in the way,” she suggested, and pointed toward the medical building.

At the medical office, the quack doctor was gazing out at the marketplace enviously. As ever, he seemed to have a lot of time on his hands. The nature of his work kept him from leaving his office, even if hardly anyone ever showed up there. It must have been rough on him. He passed the time by helping the kitten groom herself. He was a very personable man, though, and when visitors did come, he bent over backwards to be hospitable to them.

“Gracious, young lady, I had no idea you had friends.” Not exactly a tactful thing to say, but then again, not untrue either.

Xiaolan entered the doctor’s office only with some trepidation, but her eyes lit up when she heard the cat say, “Meeoww.” Shisui likewise had a gleam in her eye.

“Aww, she’s adorable,” Shisui said. “What’s her name?”

There was a long beat. Finally Maomao replied, “Admonisher of Thieves.”

“Huh? What kind of weird name is that?”

“Just call her ‘the kitten,’ then.”

Yes, the kitten—that was plenty. Calling her “Maomao” was far weirder than the name the Emperor had given her.

Xiaolan and Shisui rarely visited the medical office; for one thing, they were normally too busy with work. Today, though, there was a festival atmosphere and everyone was having a good time. As a precaution, the storehouse containing the most important medicines had been locked up. True, it was arguably problematic that Maomao, who wasn’t technically on the staff, knew where the key was, but if she told anyone, they would only hide it from her, and she didn’t want that.

Maomao heated water while the quack prepared treats. She decided to use a quartz vessel instead of a teapot today. It was really for making medicine, not drinks, but when you had a high-quality tea like jasmine on hand, ceramic seemed like a waste. She used tepid water to warm the chilly vessel, then emptied it before placing a round bulb inside and pouring near-boiling water over it.

“Oh, wow!” The girlish cry came from Xiaolan, who was impressed by the potent aroma that drifted from the opening bulb. “Maomao, is this that stuff you bought earlier?”

Maomao nodded. Shisui, for her part, was conspicuous by her silence; maybe she’d seen jasmine tea before.

“You don’t want the water to be boiling, just relatively warm,” Maomao said. “Not that I have many chances to make it.” The tea leaves would probably keep for a little while if necessary.

The doctor appeared, solicitously offering rice crackers and mooncakes. The cakes were a bit large, so he cut them into pieces with a simple cleaver. Xiaolan’s eyes were already shining as she tried to judge which slice was the biggest. Only moments ago, she’d seemed unsure whether it was even acceptable for her to come into the doctor’s office. Now she was already chatting amiably with the quack. Maybe it was her youth that made her so adaptable. Shisui was also talking comfortably with him. The quack was clearly quite pleased. Many of the women in the rear palace treated men like him rather coolly because he was a eunuch, so meeting someone like Xiaolan must have been a relief.

“I do feel I should remind you young ladies that this isn’t a playhouse. This is just for this one time, okay?” He repeated himself on this point several times; it seemed to be his roundabout way of telling them that, in fact, they were quite welcome to come again (he could hardly say it in so many words).

“Is it like this every time? It’s like one giant party out there,” Shisui said, taking a bite of mooncake. It reminded Maomao that the other woman was the newest palace woman among them. Consort Loulan’s arrival had brought a great many of them into the rear palace. Shisui had probably been there for less than six months.

“Kind of. It seems to be going on longer than usual, though.” Xiaolan, the kitten on her knees, stuffed mooncake into her mouth. The kitten was getting a little too interested in her crumbs, so Maomao snatched her up and gave her some fish.

“Ahem, yes,” the doctor said, clearing his throat importantly and brushing some crumbs from his loach-like mustache. “A special embassy from another land will be visiting us soon, you see.”

Is he supposed to be telling us that? Maomao wondered as she sipped her tea. She’d been eager to get her hands on some hot water, but she was starting to think it might have been a mistake to bring the other two girls to the medical office.

“Wow, so someone really important will be coming,” Xiaolan said. Her eyes were shining once more, but Maomao slipped another piece of mooncake onto the dish and Xiaolan’s attention promptly switched to the new snack. Maomao racked her brain for some other topic of discussion, but it was Shisui who saved the day.

“Hey, there’s been a weird smell coming from the northern quarter recently. Do you know anything about it?”

“A weird smell, you say? Well, that area isn’t well looked-after. Maybe the sewer’s backed up or something,” the quack said. A blockage in the sewage tunnels could certainly create an odor that would be detectable above ground.

“I haven’t noticed! I never go to the northern quarter,” Xiaolan, making progress on her second helping of mooncake, said. “Do you have work there sometimes?”

“Hehe. The grass just so happens to be especially thick in that area.” Shisui grinned and took a bunch of paper from the folds of her robe. They looked like wrapping papers for snacks, but they were covered in ink drawings. Maomao looked at them with interest, but Xiaolan and the doctor recoiled—for the pictures were detailed depictions of insects. A fine-point brush had been used so that even the most subtle features were captured, and the name of each insect was inscribed carefully in the upper-right corner of each image.

“That’s great work,” Maomao said, and she meant it. There were no extraneous lines; the pictures looked fit for an encyclopedia. There were even careful depictions of the hind legs.

“Thanks. One of the best things about this place is all the different bugs. I get lots of chances to draw them,” Shisui said, pleased to have found someone who understood her. Xiaolan and the quack, meanwhile, were trying hard not to look at the all-too-realistic depictions.

Insects were another thing that could be used as medicinal ingredients. They didn’t put too much emphasis on that back in the pleasure district—it tended to upset the ladies—but many insect-based remedies were quite effective. Praying mantis oothecae were an excellent vigor enhancer, while earthworms had antipyretic properties.

“The fruit orchards to the south are too well-tended to have many bugs, but there’s lots in the northern quarter. It’s very desolate. You know, in a good way. There’s lots of big spiders there.”

“Spiders?!”

Maomao had heard that spider’s silk could help stop bleeding, but collecting the stuff was enough trouble that she hadn’t had a chance to try it yet. Shisui’s comment lit a fire in Maomao’s eyes.

“You want to see? I can take you there.”

“I want to see! Take me there!”

Maomao and Shisui were weirdly in sync. Xiaolan and the doctor observed their conversation with detachment. The kitten, her tummy full, raised one of her hind legs and scratched behind her ears.