The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 4 - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Taibon

“Tell me, if you would: is my medicine ready yet?”

Exactly once per day, Maomao was permitted to leave the room in which she was confined—in order to be taken, under guard, to Shenmei.

Shenmei’s room was so luxurious, one would never have believed it was in the middle of a fortress. The floor was covered by a thick rug of foreign make, and the furniture was likewise exotic. Aromas of tea and flowers and honey drifted through the air.

The mistress of the room was reclining in an easy chair, a lady-in-waiting polishing the nails of her left hand. A young man knelt nearby, massaging her feet. The room was thick with the smell of incense. Behind Shenmei was a large bed on which some women were rolling around and giggling. There was another odor in the air too: alcohol. The room was redolent of sheer decadence.

Maomao sniffed audibly. It’s some kind of mixture, she thought. A base of musk water, cut with several other ingredients. The women lounging on the bed looked oddly lethargic—hard to tell if it was drunkenness or something else.

Loulan was behind Shenmei, munching on a snack. Suirei was combing her hair. In some other setting, they might have looked like two sisters sharing a sweet moment. Here, they looked only like master and servant.

“I believe it will take a little longer yet,” Maomao replied.

“Gracious. Is that so?” With a wave of her fan, Shenmei sent Maomao back out of the room.

Once she was safely back in the hallway, Maomao let out a deep sigh. Then she saw a familiar face looking in her direction.

“Hey, apothecary.” That smart-aleck tone—it was Kyou-u. (She’d never specifically told him her name, and he hadn’t actually been introduced to her, hence why he simply called her “apothecary.”) Behind him was a lady-in-waiting she took to be his minder, along with four other boys.

“Yes? How can I help you?” she asked politely.

What she wanted to say was: Yeah, what is it, you little shit? But this was hardly the time or place. Even Maomao had a sense of self-preservation, and with the lady-in-waiting—and her burly guard—present, she couldn’t afford to level any abuse at him.

“Ew, creepy!” he exclaimed.

I want to smack him so bad. Maomao privately promised herself that the next time they were alone, she would give him the noogie of a lifetime. Although, sadly, it didn’t seem like she was going to have the chance anytime soon.

“If you don’t need anything from me, sir, I’d like to go back to my room.” Maomao’s situation was far from ideal, but she didn’t object to what she was actually doing. She was provided with a supply of drugs that would have served admirably even in a proper medical office—even if many of them were getting old. And she was thrilled to have so many written materials to work with. Whoever the apothecary before her had been, they were quite talented.

“Hey, were there any other women in there?”

“Yes, sir.”

I mean, for what it’s worth. They hadn’t been in much of a state to be seen by a young child. Such dissolution was not for the eyes of little boys. True, by the time she was Kyou-u’s age, Maomao had been more acquainted with the copulation of men and women than that of, say, cats or dogs, and any blushing embarrassment she might once have felt at the thought was long gone. But this was different.

“So, uh, my mom’s in there. Did she look okay? I know she’s been busy with work...”

After a second, Maomao replied, “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know which of the women you mean.”

“Oh.” Kyou-u looked downcast. There wasn’t much Maomao could say. She thought she knew which woman was his mother—but she hadn’t been fit to tell him about. “Guess that’s how it goes, huh? I mean, Mom’s busy. Maybe I should’ve waited back at the village for her.”

So that’s his story. She didn’t know whose idea it had been, but it had been a wise choice. Better to have him stay at the hot-springs town than see his mother here. Maybe it had even been his mother’s idea.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said.

“Oh, uh, hey!” Kyou-u looked like he was about to say something to Maomao, but then he glanced around and was silent. Whatever he’d wanted to say, evidently this wasn’t the place for it.

“If I may, then.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Maomao went back to her room.

Several more days passed, each much the same as the others. The one thing that seemed really strange to Maomao was how she could hear children’s voices outside her door. Kyou-u and the others, maybe? Each time they approached, a lady-in-waiting would scold them and lead them away. Evidently they were supposed to steer clear of this room.

I guess I understand. Small animals were brought into Maomao’s room for experimental purposes. She kept the place as clean as she could, but it couldn’t exactly be called hygienic. It does sort of stink in here. The smell came partly from the rats, but sometimes there was a whiff of something else, something vile. A smell not unlike animal dung or rotten eggs. She often caught the smell drifting up from the stairs when she was taken to Shenmei’s room; maybe they were doing something on one of the lower levels. She thought back to the disassembled feifa she’d seen at the village. Maybe they were researching the weapons here too.

I hope nothing explodes, she thought. But at the moment, she had no time to worry about such things.

The materials left by the previous apothecary showed that in pursuit of an immortality drug, many experiments had been done regarding a resurrection drug as well. Her predecessor hadn’t been far from either, but neither had they been precisely close. Yet Suirei had successfully revived on the basis of these experiments—so they’d had their worth.

As for the drug that really mattered—the elixir of immortality—there were only the most basic remarks: beauty products and things that might help purify the body’s systems. Well, what else could one expect? There’s no such thing as a panacea, after all. Nothing cures all ills.

In the same way, the deterioration of the human body could be slowed, but it could never be stopped. Live a decent life, eat nutritious foods, and exercise regularly—that was the best method. But Shenmei wanted something she could simply take a sip of and make herself ten years younger.

And there is no such thing. Maomao understood that perfectly well, yet she had her pride as an apothecary—and doing nothing was clearly not an option.

“I guess this isn’t any easier for you than it is for me,” she said to the rats. Then, too, while they might be there purely to have drugs tested out on them, they were being fed regularly, so they were plumper than your ordinary rat. They had one pair for breeding, and kept the rest separated, lest the fortress be overrun with ratspawn.

She considered the fact that to judge whether an immortality drug had worked, she would have to observe the rat for at least the duration of its natural life. It’s enough to make me light-headed... According to the last apothecary’s materials, rats generally lived about three years; maybe four in some exceptional individual cases. And I’m sure as hell not going to be here for four years.

Nonetheless, she set about making the chubby rats’ food.

That was what she was doing when she heard a voice outside. There were footsteps too; it was time for the changing of the guard. Maybe that means I’ll get to eat soon. She knew by now that breakfast and dinner usually arrived after the guard was changed.

She set down her mortar and pestle, yawned widely, and stretched her arms, making little circles with them.

Then there was a thump.

Uh...

She saw something on the ground by the doorframe. When she got closer, she discovered a scrap of paper that seemed to have gotten wedged under the door.

She opened it and found a message in a child’s messy scrawl: “Run for it. I’ll draw off the guard.” The message included a piece of wire, wrapped into a circle to fit.

Kyou-u? Maomao thought. Maybe he realized she was a hostage, or perhaps he saw that even being at this stronghold was a dangerous proposition—she didn’t know which. But she saw that in his own way and despite being a brat, he was thinking of her.

Unfortunately, the thin piece of wire wasn’t going to be nearly enough to open the door to this room. For one thing, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have plenty of wire, and better, right in here with her. As for the plan itself, it was as simple and childish as the handwriting.

She heard Kyou-u’s voice on the other side of the door. “Leggo! Let me go!”

Whatever he’d thought he would do to take care of the guard, he had obviously failed.

“What did you think you were doing?”

Kyou-u was in a formal seated position on the floor, his clothes slightly disheveled by his little rampage. The guard had called Suirei, who’d come in a hurry when she heard there had been an attempt to free Maomao. Maomao had likewise been dragged out of her room again.

“Whaddaya mean?” Kyou-u said, trying to play dumb.

Suirei gave him a cold look, then turned to Maomao. “You put him up to this, didn’t you?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Maomao asked, discreetly crushing the piece of paper in her hand.

“Oh! That’s it—I was just playing like usual when I saw that guard there was slacking off. That’s what happened.” Kyou-u was totally unrepentant, and Maomao figured her best bet was to play along. Even Suirei seemed to acknowledge as much. The only one who seemed to have dug in his heels was the guard, the same one who had stood at Maomao’s door ever since she’d arrived here.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Kyou-u demanded.

Suirei ignored his protest, but gave him a withering stare. “So it was really nothing? Then listen: I never want nothing to happen again.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

The guard still looked less than pleased, but all was well that ended well, as long as they could agree that all was, in fact, well.

At least it’s over, Maomao thought.

Except it wasn’t.

“Goodness, what’s all this?”

Maomao felt a shock of fear raise gooseflesh all over her body. A tak, tak of footsteps sounded through the hallway. The owner must have been wearing wooden clogs for them to echo like that.

Suirei’s color got worse and worse as the sound approached, and she wasn’t alone—Kyou-u and the guard both went pale as well. This was why Suirei had been trying so hard to wrap things up quickly.

And then Shenmei was there. She must have just gotten out of the bath, for her hair was damp, tied up but not very elaborately. She was wearing makeup, but thinner than usual, giving the impression that she was blushing. Behind her were two ladies-in-waiting, and Loulan.

Kyou-u’s eyes sparkled for an instant when he saw them. His mouth twitched, but he didn’t make a sound. Maybe one of the ladies was his mother.

“Nothing that warrants your attention, ma’am.”

“No, by all means, tell me. I’m most interested as to why the apothecary is not in her room.”

It was obvious that half-baked excuses weren’t going to fly with Shenmei. Suirei, bowing to reality, said brusquely: “I’m given to understand that Kyou-u was playing outside this room here and distracted the guard. Purely for form’s sake, I was asking the apothecary for her perspective on events.”

“Oh? Have you been a bad boy?” Shenmei’s gaze settled on Kyou-u, whose eyes began to brim with tears. “That won’t do. If you don’t behave, then we’ll have to discipline you.” She stood in front of Kyou-u and stroked his cheek, the sharp jade nail caps on her fingers jabbing his soft skin. “Perhaps a little smack on the bottom?”

“Lady Shenmei—” Suirei began, but she stopped mid-sentence.

“Hmm? Go on.”

“Kyou-u is only a young child. And he did nothing of any consequence...” She trailed off, her voice growing quieter and quieter.

Kyou-u was still watching the lady-in-waiting behind Loulan, Suirei, and Shenmei. The woman had a vacant look in her eyes.

Shenmei cocked her head. “Well, but that must mean someone here made a very big fuss out of a very little thing.” Her gaze moved to the guard.

“Certainly not, ma’am,” he said.

“No? And yet it seems you’re the one at fault here. And that means you have to be disciplined.”

In her mind, Maomao could almost see the cruel twisting of Shenmei’s mouth where it was hidden behind her folding fan. Was it possible this woman derived sexual pleasure from inflicting pain on others?

“Perhaps some time in the water prison to think about what you’ve done?”

“Ma’am...!”

Geez! That’s outrageous. Maomao didn’t know exactly what the “water prison” was, but it was much too cold to be forcing someone to stay in standing water.

Maomao doubted Shenmei cared about the reason—she just enjoyed tormenting people. Maomao wanted nothing more to do with her. But at the same time, people like Shenmei pissed her off. Maybe that’s why she was speaking before she could stop herself. “You old witch.”

The words slipped quietly from her mouth, but Shenmei seemed to hear them quite clearly. She was, after all, the oldest person there.

Almost before she knew what had happened, Maomao was flying sideways, her ear and temple throbbing. When she fought back the pain enough to open her eyes, she saw Shenmei, beet red, her fan upraised.

This confirms it. I’m an idiot, Maomao thought. But her idiocy wasn’t over yet.

“I told the boy to do it,” she said.

Shenmei’s face contorted with rage; she looked like a mythical warrior demon. Someone less stout of heart might have wet themselves at her expression at that moment. But Maomao had plenty of experience with cruel old women.

Her problem was that this cruel old woman knew no restraint. Next, the fan came down hard on her shoulder.

“Another worthless apothecary, I see!” Shenmei spat at her, while Maomao held her shoulder. Shenmei took a breath, but her anger obviously hadn’t abated. “Very well. Perhaps we can inspire some repentance. Put her in the water prison.”

Yep. I’m in trouble now.

She’d brought it on herself. Bought and paid for. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, not worried about Kyou-u or the guard.

But there was another idiot there just like Maomao.

“But Lady Shenmei, then we’ll be without an apothecary again.”

“Hm?” Shenmei grimaced at Suirei’s words. Suirei stepped forward as if to say more, but the fan came down promptly on her shoulder. “Don’t move without being told.”

“My sincere apologies, milady. However—”

The fan came down again, this time on her forehead, where it split the skin, producing a trickle of red blood. Shenmei grabbed Suirei’s hair and dragged her close, so that they were face-to-face. Just as Maomao was wondering what she might do, she licked the blood flowing from Suirei’s forehead. Maomao wasn’t sure what to think.

“However noble the blood might once have been, once sullied, it can never be clean again.” Shenmei spat the combination of blood and saliva into a piece of scrap paper, then flung it at Suirei. “I can’t use this any longer,” she said, throwing away the folding fan she had been holding. One of the ladies-in-waiting immediately held out another one to her. Did they just carry a supply at all times? Did Shenmei beat people bloody that often?

Suirei dabbed at her forehead with a handkerchief, but she didn’t move. She simply stood there, her eyes fixed on Maomao.

It seems like she has a strong sense of duty, Maomao thought. Suirei acted like she felt somehow responsible for Maomao. True, it was partly due to her own curiosity that the apothecary was now trapped in this fortress, but nonetheless Suirei was obviously trying to protect her. But she was facing far too evil a force.

Loulan stepped up behind her mother, her face impassive as she said, “Dearest Mother...”

Shenmei didn’t look up from playing with her new fan. “Yes, what?”

“Since we went to all the trouble of having it made ready, I want to use... You know. It’s been so long since we put it to good use.”

What’s “you know”? Maomao wondered. The way Loulan spoke made it sound deeply significant.

“Ahh. The taibon,” Shenmei said. Suirei cringed visibly.

Taibon? It sounded vaguely familiar, but Maomao couldn’t quite remember what it was.

“It’s a bit on the small side, but certainly large enough for one person. I do seem to remember our last test of it being quite...effective.” This time she looked at Suirei, whose face grew even more bloodless, and who clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white. “Yes, let’s go with that today,” Shenmei said with a smile. She glanced at two guards with her; they each took one of Maomao’s arms and dragged her away.

Maomao found herself taken to the basement of the stronghold, down a staircase of angular stone steps to a place that was rather humid. There was a wooden door into a circular room about two kan (3.5 meters) across. The floor was sunk by roughly two shaku (60 centimeters), but otherwise there appeared to be nothing in it. The guards shoved Maomao into the room and hung a lamp along one wall. The ceiling was high over her head; there was a single window, well out of reach.

“Sorry, kid. Lady Shenmei’s orders,” one of the guards said. He sounded sympathetic, for all it was worth.

A large wooden box was brought into the cell. The guard looked at it, profoundly uncomfortable. Then he opened the lid and immediately ducked out of the room and closed the door.

Something squirmed and writhed inside the chest. Something trying desperately to crawl out into the light.

Ahh... I see now.

Yes, she had heard of the “taibon.” It was a form of punishment invented by a mad king in some ancient era. One dug a large hole and put a criminal in it. A hole occupied by creatures like those now squirming inside the box.

Maomao shivered, feeling goosebumps all over her flesh. She knew now why Suirei was so terrified of snakes.

The writhing thing raised its sickle-shaped head from the box. A long, red tongue flicked out of its mouth. It watched her with moist eyes, looking for all the world like a living rope. Some small bugs scuttled out of the chest, followed by a croaking frog.

Maomao began to laugh. “Hah... Ha ha ha!” Her eyes brimmed; a grin split her face from ear to ear. What beautiful creatures. She hadn’t seen their like for a long time.

Still laughing, Maomao took the hair stick from her hair and produced the hairpin from the folds of her robe.

From the box exploded an innumerable parade of snakes and poisonous bugs.