The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 4 - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Traces

“Maomao still hasn’t come back.”

That was the gist of the letter that had arrived for Jinshi the night before. It had been worded more elaborately than that (formality demanded as much), but there had been an unmistakable urgency to the handwriting. He assumed the writer had been the Jade Pavilion’s chief lady-in-waiting, meaning she must have been frazzled indeed. This was the woman whom his own nursemaid Suiren had praised as “highly capable” after doing a stint at the Jade Pavilion when Jinshi took Maomao back for a while.

To be perfectly honest, Jinshi thought the girl would be fine on her own for a night. She slipped out from time to time—he’d witnessed it himself more than once—but she was usually back by morning. Which was why he found this entire thing surprising.

When he arrived at the Jade Pavilion, the longer-serving ladies-in-waiting watched him apprehensively. They were going through the motions, but they seemed distracted. The newer girls, however, were working industriously.

He entered the living room to find Consort Gyokuyou reclining on a generous couch. Princess Lingli was playing in another room. The chief lady-in-waiting, Hongniang, was there, her face set. Gyokuyou held a folding fan in front of her mouth, though she looked more or less as she usually did.

“You look well, milady,” Jinshi said.

“Hardly,” Gyokuyou replied, making clear that she was not going to waste any time on formalities. Evidently, she was less phlegmatic about the situation than she appeared. “I thought you must have absconded with her again, but it seems I was wrong about that, at least.”

“Honestly, milady, have I ever done anything so rude?” The truth was, Jinshi shared her disquiet.

“I wonder if she’s gone and stuck her nose into some new dangerous goings-on,” Gyokuyou said.

“Do we know what she was doing?”

“Yes, until noon the day before yesterday,” Hongniang broke in. She explained that Maomao had gone to the medical office to prepare the mugwort for the moxibustion. Luomen had explained about his list of health-related provisions for the rear palace, and said Maomao had been very much in favor of the idea.

“So perhaps she went to the institute for practical studies,” Luomen had said, and the old eunuch who ran the place confirmed that Maomao had in fact been there. But after that, it was as if she had vanished.

She had gone to get the mugwort, then proceeded to the school. Where had she gone after that?

“I can only think she was caught up in something,” Hongniang said. She looked calm enough, but there was a hint of distress in her manner, and an evident desire to defend Maomao. “I checked the most suspicious places, but there was nothing.” And Hongniang was, after all, Gyokuyou’s serving woman. She couldn’t go making a commotion on her own. She had to rely on Jinshi.

Jinshi crossed his arms and grunted. It was hard to imagine anything that would inspire Maomao to disappear of her own accord. She could be brusque at times, but she understood her place. Likewise, she had a way of underestimating her own value, but she certainly knew that simply leaving her mistress without permission would bring down punishment. There was either some specific circumstance preventing her from coming home, or else she had simply been rendered incapable of returning. It was the worst thing he could think of.

“Do you suppose anyone had some kind of grudge against her?” Gyokuyou inquired. With more than two thousand women and a thousand eunuchs at the rear palace, there were bound to be one or two people a person didn’t get along with, and sometimes such differences could conceivably spill over into actual harm.

“Grudges? Against her? Plenty, I assume,” Hongniang said.

They all fell silent. The fact that no one could deny it was unsettling. Some of the women of the Crystal Pavilion, particularly, probably had it out for Maomao.

“Maomao wouldn’t be able to resist physical force,” Gyokuyou said. The young lady was quite well versed in poisons, but she was small and not physically strong. “If a whole group attacked her, she’d be dead.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Gaoshun said, his brow furrowing. “But I somehow doubt she would travel to the next life alone...”

They all fell silent again. Everyone in the room knew Maomao well enough to know that even in the face of physical violence, she wouldn’t go quietly. She would set that mind of hers working and find some way to take at least one of her attackers with her.

“At present, however, there’s no discernible reason for her disappearance—and that means she will have to be punished,” Jinshi said. Maomao was frequently granted special treatment, but unfortunately, they had to draw the line somewhere. “Having said that,” he continued, “before we can punish her, we must find her.” The best thing, he decided, would be to retrace her steps once more.

When they arrived at the medical office, the doctor with the thin mustache welcomed them with tea, but he seemed depressed. Luomen was writing something calmly. When Jinshi and his group showed up, he came over to greet them, dragging one leg.

“You must be here about Maomao.” Luomen was quite perceptive. They seemed more likely to get useful information out of him than from the moping doctor.

“I’d like you to tell your story again,” Jinshi said.

“Of course,” Luomen said, and proceeded to outline the events simply but clearly. Unfortunately, it yielded no information Jinshi hadn’t heard at the Jade Pavilion.

“Is that everything?”

“It is, sir.”

Jinshi was beginning to get irritated. Gaoshun alerted him with a nudge that he was tapping his foot noisily. Knowing he had to do something, Jinshi looked around the medical office. “What about the other Maomao? Isn’t the cat here today?”

“I believe she’s out on a walk.” It was (for some reason) Gaoshun who answered, sounding dispirited. Jinshi was aware that his attendant had been quietly bringing a fish along each time they came to the rear palace recently.

Jinshi had thought petting that furball might help him feel a little better—of all the times for her not to be here.

“Usually, this is about when she comes around to beg for food,” the doctor said.

“True, she is a little late,” Luomen agreed. The two of them looked at each other.

“Come to think of it, when the young lady left here, Maomao was practically plastered to her,” the doctor said, stroking his chin. That at least was new information, though not of great consequence. Of course cats would play around with whoever was there.

Luomen, though, said, “Is that how she looked to you?”

“Good question. She was sticking awfully close, not really playing around. That was just when you went to use the restroom, Luomen. The young lady said something about the consort sleeping lightly.”

Luomen didn’t say anything, but went over to the medicine cabinet and gazed at its panoply of drawers. At length he opened one and placed some dried berries on a piece of wrapping paper. “Did she happen to take any of these with her?”

“Hmm... I’m sorry to say I don’t remember,” the doctor confessed. He looked into the drawer. “I do feel like there used to be more of them in there. Maybe she did take some.”

Luomen nodded, then turned to Jinshi. “Forgive me, but might I be permitted to go look for our kitten?” Then, still looking supremely calm, he added, “It might afford us the chance to find the other Maomao as well.” Evidently he had some kind of idea.

In that, Jinshi reflected, Maomao and her adoptive father very much resembled each other.

“And what purpose will finding this cat serve?”

“It may serve no purpose at all. We’ll have to see,” Luomen said. He walked along, dragging his leg—his kneecap had been removed when he had been banished from the rear palace. Punishment for the death of the heir to the throne, the current Emperor’s firstborn son. Children, it must be noted, died all the time. To be mutilated and banished for such an occurrence could only be attributed to Luomen’s bad luck.

Now the eunuch studied the strange berries in his hand, the herbal medicine he’d taken from the medicine cabinet. “This is a good specimen,” he commented. “Still fresh. The aroma is still strong.”

He looked around. Gaoshun was walking behind Jinshi, carrying a fish. He occasionally offered a quiet “Meeow,” but Jinshi pretended not to hear him. If Basen had seen his father this way, the blood would have drained from his face. Gaoshun did everything he could to play the serious father in front of his son.

The other eunuchs split up to look for the cat.

“Cats’ territories typically aren’t that large,” Luomen said. An animal wasn’t likely to roam more than half a li; individual variations aside, of course. “They might range a little farther when in heat, but our kitten is still young enough that we may not have to worry about that. However—”

He was interrupted by a voice from behind. “Master Jinshi, we found her,” one of the eunuchs said. They followed him.

They were in the northern quarter of the rear palace, but parts of the area were separated from the southern quarter by only a single wall, which had holes small enough for a kitten to sneak through. The animal, he’d been informed, had originally been found not far from the wall.

When they got to the kitten, she was rolling back and forth on the ground, stretched out pathetically by the roots of the tree. The roots showed signs that she’d scratched at them, and some small berries lay on the ground beside her. Jinshi crouched down and scratched Maomao under the chin. She squinted with pleasure, then turned over and went to sleep.

“So she’s been sleeping?” Jinshi asked. It looked almost as if she was drunk.

“Look at these,” Luomen said, picking up some of the berries. They resembled the medicine he’d brought along. He looked at them closely, then studied the scratch marks on the tree. There was another berry inside the hollow of the tree—and when he reached inside, he came up with a scrap of paper.

“Maomao must have done this,” he said. He opened the scrap of paper, but there was nothing written on it.

“Yes, but what was she trying to tell us?” Jinshi said archly.

“We’ll have to go back to the medical office to find out,” Luomen replied, and then he bent down, scooped up Maomao, and started walking.

One thing Maomao and Luomen had in common was that you never knew what they were going to do next. They both seemed to believe that showing was better than telling, or at least better than explaining in advance what they had in mind. Demonstration was the quickest way for the intelligent to explain something to the less gifted.

“This is catnip,” Luomen was saying. “It’s a feline favorite and induces a state much like drunkenness. You can make a tea with it that protects against chills and encourages good sleep.”

Maomao must have intended it for Consort Gyokuyou. Then, when she’d suddenly found herself in dire straits, she’d put it to good use. The chances that they would find it hadn’t been very good—maybe no one would notice the stuff. But here it was, a message left by Maomao. Perhaps she’d relied on the likelihood that Luomen would figure it out. The others were starting to see why she admired him so much.

Now Luomen took out the piece of paper. Surely it must have some significance, even though there was nothing written on it.

“This is a little game she always used to love,” Luomen said. He lit a candle from an asbestos-wrapped flint, the room filling with a rich aroma of honey. He took the paper and singed it slightly—whereupon letters appeared on it. The flame quickly became very eager, and Luomen jerked the page away from the fire. “If you write on a piece of paper using fruit juice or tea, the letters are slightly more flammable than the paper, so they appear when the surface is passed over a flame. On this occasion...it would appear she used alcohol.”

“Ah, yes, she did take some of our distilled spirits with her,” the doctor piped up. It would have been nice of him to mention that sooner.

In any case, that meant that the writing caught fire first, making it visible. And as for the message they could now see...

“Is that the character for...small shrine?” the doctor said. “It’s too messy to read. I think you let it burn too much.”

“My apologies,” Luomen said, though it hadn’t really been under his control.

The paper contained just two characters: the one for roadside shrine, and one more. Presumably, that was all Maomao had been able to dash off in the moments she’d had available to her. At least this strengthened the speculation that she’d been prevented from coming back to the Jade Pavilion against her will. And this abstruse trick had been the best thing she could manage to let them know what was going on.

“Are there any shrines in that area?” Luomen inquired.

“We’re going to find out,” Jinshi said.

The Shrine of Choosing was only the start: the northern quarter was dotted with old buildings. There could very well be a shrine or two there, but even Jinshi, who’d been in and around the rear palace for years, couldn’t be sure.

Then there was the other character on the piece of paper, tantalizingly almost legible. It was a bit of a shapeless blob; perhaps Maomao had tried to use a simplified form to save time. It didn’t help that whatever she had written had been partially blackened by the flame.

“What could it be?” Jinshi muttered.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest,” the doctor said.

Maybe they should try the Jade Pavilion; Gyokuyou or the others might be able to shed some light on it.

“I don’t know how much hope we can hold out, though,” Jinshi said.

“I wonder.” Luomen blew out the candle and calmly put it away. He seemed unhurried, in contrast to the fidgety, anxious doctor.

“Are you not worried about her?” Jinshi asked. Could Luomen, despite his gentle appearance, actually have a heart of stone?

“Worried? I am. But I will simply do what I can do. I wouldn’t want the tasks I must attend to to suffer because I was in a tizzy.” He began taking out some medicines. “Besides, I once went an entire year without a word from her.”

Jinshi was quiet. Luomen must have meant the year after his daughter had been taken by the “lady hunters.” What could Jinshi do in the face of such a remark but keep his peace? He thought back to when Maomao had been a maid, working away, unable to communicate with the pleasure district. It made him realize that father and daughter did share some strange commonalities.

He could see that even without Maomao here, he needn’t worry about Consort Gyokuyou. If she wanted a food taster, he was prepared to offer Suiren again. He imagined there was a good chance that the Jade Pavilion’s ladies would reject that idea, however. Hongniang herself had looked practically terrified.

Jinshi left the medical office, moving quicker than usual as he made for Gyokuyou’s residence.

“Master Jinshi...” Gaoshun was looking at him sourly.

“I know.” He slowed down to a regal walk, greeting the occasional smiles from the women who passed by with graciousness—the perfect noble.

“Sloppy writing,” Hongniang remarked, scrunching up her brow.

“I would say more like written hurriedly—without the time for careful calligraphy. The scorches don’t help, but the characters themselves are a bit blobby.” This cool assessment came from Gyokuyou. Princess Lingli was by her feet, playing with wooden blocks. “Hrm,” the consort grumbled. “I wonder what it could say?”

“I think it looks a little like the character for wings.”

“No, no. The bottom half of the character isn’t crowded enough for that.”

“Yes, but Maomao’s writing has always had a certain...peculiar charm.”

Well, then maybe a fresh set of eyes (or three) could help to decipher the writing. Hongniang promptly summoned the other ladies-in-waiting. However, even Yinghua, Guiyuan, and Ailan weren’t able to agree on what they were seeing.

“Oh, I think it says next.”

“Hmm. That’s close, but I don’t quite think so.”

“Yeah, I feel like there’s more to it than that.”

Then the lady-in-waiting with the white hairband spoke up: “It looks like wings or next to me too.”

“I agree with my sister,” said the woman with the black hairband.

The last of them, the girl with the red hairband, was staring at the paper as if her gaze might burn a hole right through it. “Don’t you think this says jade?” she asked. That character certainly did look that way, a bit like a cross between the ones for wings and next. “See here? It’s a little swoopier than usual; normally this stroke would be straight down.”

“Yes, I could see it. But what do you suppose it means?” Gyokuyou said. “Is it a reference to the Jade Pavilion?”

The debate started immediately: “Maybe, but what would be the point of referring to this place?”

Meanwhile, Seki-u was scrunching up her nose. “Shisui...?” she said suddenly.

Everyone stopped and looked at her; she shivered under their collective gaze.

“What’s that?”

“U-Uh, um, it’s...a name. The name of a maid who was with Maomao.”

It wasn’t a particularly unusual name; it was frequently written with characters meaning purple and jade or otherwise offspring and jade. It could be the name of practically anybody in the rear palace.

But Jinshi remembered someone else in connection with that character, sui. “I believe there was a girl called Xiaolan who was often with them,” he said. He’d seen them together before. A palace woman with the aspect of a friendly squirrel. (Much as he was surprised to realize Maomao was actually friends with some other girls.)

“Find that serving woman!” he commanded his eunuchs. They immediately left the room.

“Master Jinshi,” Gaoshun said. Suddenly, Jinshi realized his face was hard-set, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails were leaving impressions in his palms.

He tried to put his mask back on, but without much success.

Sometime later, a shrine was discovered near where they’d found the kitten. A dilapidated construct tucked in the shadow of a storehouse, it might have remained hidden forever if no one had been specifically looking for it. The shrine, it turned out, was the entrance to a tunnel. A passage constructed out of one of the old, unused waterways.

They learned one more thing, as well: there were no women registered in the rear palace with the name Seki-u had come up with. “Shisui” was nowhere to be found, and one of the new eunuchs was missing too.