The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 4 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Ice

Xiaolan was supposed to be two years younger than Maomao. She’d been sold into the rear palace by her family, but there was no hint of this dark past in her personality. Maybe it was her poor farmer’s background that gave her her insatiable appetite for sweets; show her a snack and she would promptly stuff her mouth with it. She was concerned about losing her livelihood when she left the rear palace, and she’d been learning to write and trying to make connections to prepare for life after her contract was up. It was all very professional of her. She was still young in some ways, however, and it manifested as occasional bouts of anxiety.

One of the consorts at the bath seemed to have taken a liking to her, and had given her a small hair stick. It was a minor thing, but Xiaolan, who had been thrilled to receive even a hairband, was over the moon about it. That joy had possessed her until just a moment earlier, when she’d been running along without quite looking where she was going and had run smack into a cart that happened to be stopped in her way.

And so we find ourselves at the present moment.

“What am I supposed to do now?! There’s no time to get a new load!” The eunuch who had been pulling the cart full of ice shouted at her in a nasal voice. The cargo was scattered pathetically on the ground. “It’s not like I can just wash it off and pretend nothing happened!”

“I’m very... I’m s— s—”

She was trying to apologize, but the eunuch continued to press her. Xiaolan was white as a sheet and trembling all over.

Perhaps you think it’s just ice, but this was the season when the cicadas were still trilling. Ice chambers in cool mountain regions had been filled during the winter, and now in the hot season, chunks were cut from the great hunk. Each of the pieces lying on the ground at that moment was probably worth enough to buy a human life.

“Argh! What the hell am I going to do?!”

The eunuch’s anger was understandable. He might not hang for this offense, but a good beating likely awaited him. He grabbed his hood and flung it on the ground. Meanwhile, the ice was melting away all too quickly.

Maomao crouched on the ground and picked up one of the muddy chunks still wrapped in some reeds and cloth. “Which consort was it intended for?” she asked the eunuch, grasping at the slightest sliver of hope. There were only so many ladies who could have requested such a large load of ice. One of the emperor’s four favored women, or perhaps a middle consort with a very rich family.

“Consort Loulan!” the eunuch said.

Maomao’s shoulders slumped. They might have been able to reason with any of the other high consorts—but it had to be Loulan. She loved ostentation, and had probably had it in mind to enjoy the evening cool while nibbling on an ice treat. The eunuch was right: they couldn’t give her something that had been in the mud.

I’m just glad Shisui and Seki-u aren’t here, Maomao thought. Neither of them had been at the great bathhouse today; they’d both had other things to do. Shisui alone might have been one thing—she had a surprisingly composed and collected side—but if Seki-u had been with them, she would have started crying or shouting and only would have added to the confusion.

Now what? Maomao wondered. This was far beyond an amount of money they could hope to pay back, and more importantly, they were in danger of angering one of the upper consorts. If only they had something that could substitute for ice.

Maomao looked at the shattered ice. They couldn’t hope to simply wash it off and still use it. But...

“What’s going to happen to this?” she asked, holding up a piece of the reed-wrapped ice.

“Nothing; it’s lost now. Do what you want with it,” the eunuch snapped.

“Very well.”

The eunuch was obviously thoroughly angered. No doubt he was racking his brain to decide what kind of excuse would save him. In any case, the ice was valuable, and it wouldn’t serve any purpose just melting away.

Xiaolan just stood there, her face bloodless, her thoughts probably paralyzed by the terror of what punishment might befall her.

Maomao scratched her head. They had ice, but it was inedible. In that case...

“Pardon me, but what if we prepared some substitute for this?”

“Hrm? What are you talking about?” The eunuch glared at Maomao as if he didn’t believe for a second that she could do that.

“You said we can do what we want with this, right? Perhaps I can prepare something different in exchange, and you could take it to Consort Loulan?” Maomao picked up the ice, figuring she had already been permitted that much. The eunuch was staring daggers at her. He obviously didn’t trust her, but he hardly wanted to just let himself be beaten either. He was prepared to cling to even the smallest hope.

“The consort will be expecting her snack in an hour,” he said.

“An hour,” Maomao echoed. That might be just enough time. If, that was, she could find the ingredients she needed.

At that moment, her eyes met those of a person wearing a gossamer smile. A certain gorgeous someone stood among the palace women and eunuchs watching the commotion from afar. He seemed to be quite at his ease. Beside him stood Gaoshun, with an inscrutable expression.

Yes, Jinshi was smiling, yet to Maomao he looked horrendously mischievous. She bit her lip and glanced at Xiaolan. Standing around here wasn’t going to do them any good. She grabbed the other girl’s hand and pulled her away, determined to make the best use of what she had.

The moment they left the area, the tension finally snapped and Xiaolan started blubbering. Maomao left her with the quack doctor. Then she approached Jinshi, who was helpfully standing just outside the medical office.

“Need something?” he asked.

“Can I borrow a space in the kitchen? And I’d be very glad if you could lend me some ingredients.”

“My, demanding, aren’t we?” Jinshi drawled. But she didn’t have time for this. She had to hurry, or the ice would all melt. “Going to make it worth my while, then?”

“There’s nothing that the likes of me could give to one of your stature, Master Jinshi. Nonetheless, I ask you to lend me what I need.” He couldn’t actually be inviting her to make demands or offer recompense. There was beyond one’s station, and then there was beyond one’s station. But she could hardly say so out loud.

“It’s not as if it was your fault.”

“No, I suppose not.”

It would have been easy to simply abandon Xiaolan to her fate. She’d simply been the easiest person to pump for rumors and gossip, after all. Maomao had always brought her snacks and souvenirs to compensate her for her chatter; it wasn’t as if she owed the other woman anything. It was Xiaolan’s own fault for not looking where she was going.

But... Maomao thought.

“I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night if I didn’t help her.” It was the most honest thing she could say: she had no other reason for doing this.

For a second, she thought she saw Jinshi grimace—but then he looked at the ground, and a quiet chuckle bubbled up from him. “So it’s a matter of sleeping well.”

“Yes, sir. Poor sleep would impact my next day’s work.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Jinshi smiled. “I have conditions.”

“Name them.”

“Listen when a person is talking.”

Maomao cocked her head, surprised that his “condition” was such plain common sense. “Just that? Are you sure?”

“Who is it who seems incapable of doing ‘just’ that?”

Maomao only looked even more perplexed. It seemed to her that Jinshi frowned noticeably.

“Very well,” he said, “we can add another condition, then. What would be good?” A shadow seemed to fall over his face as he gazed at the ground, and Maomao began to get a very bad feeling—but at the moment there was no one else she could possibly ask for help. It occurred to her that she might be able to go to Consort Gyokuyou, but in a matter concerning Consort Loulan, it seemed best to her to turn to the nominally neutral Jinshi.

What’s he got in mind for me? she wondered. Then she shook her head. Her hair tie fell to the floor—had it gotten that loose? Jinshi stared at it. “You don’t wear a hair stick?” he asked.

“I have to work,” she explained.

“Work or no work, the other ladies of the Jade Pavilion manage to be at least a little more fashionable than you.”

He could say what he liked; Maomao only owned so many accessories. A few nice, easy-to-use hair ties, along with the hair stick and necklace she’d received during the garden party...

“I know I gave you one. Tell me you didn’t sell it.”

“I haven’t, sir.”

Yet.

She’d been thinking about it, but hadn’t found a way so far. Should she understand this as a command not to sell it?

“Wear that one, then.”

She paused. “Is that it, sir?”

“Is there a problem with that?”

She’d thought for sure Jinshi would set her some impossible task, but if he was content just to have her wear a hair stick, that was fine with her.

“When you come to me wearing it, then I’ll tell you...” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was talking to himself. Then he looked Maomao in the face. “I’ll have everything made ready for you immediately. Follow me, quickly.”

He turned away. Maomao patted Xiaolan, whose tears had finally started to run dry, on the back, and followed him.

The kitchen was bustling with preparations for dinner, but somehow they managed to claim a corner for Maomao. Thankfully, there were stovetops to spare, the better to cook for all the palace ladies at once. Yes, it might have been possible to carry out Maomao’s plan in the medical office, but it could have been seen as rude to the consort to approach it the same way Maomao made her own snacks. Of course, she often made medicine for Consort Gyokuyou that way, but that was an exception.

Having prepared a place for her, Jinshi was dragged off back to his own work by a less-than-thrilled Gaoshun. Instead, one of the eunuchs sat in a chair to oversee Maomao and Xiaolan. The eunuch who had been carting the ice around was there too, looking around the kitchen with utmost concern.

“Maomao, are you sure you can make a substitute ice treat like this?” Xiaolan asked anxiously.

“I think so,” Maomao replied. She’d seen it done once. As long as her memory was accurate, she thought she could make it work.

On the table she had a large ceramic bowl and a smaller one made of metal. Her ingredients included cow’s milk, sugar, and several varieties of fruit, among other things. She understood why Xiaolan would be uneasy: a few of the items here didn’t look like they belonged in a kitchen.

She was glad there’d been cow’s milk. Among the consorts there happened to be a woman who favored butter, and she would only eat it made fresh each day. But milk spoiled quickly, and Maomao didn’t know what she would have done if it hadn’t been available. Now she put it into the metal bowl, added the sugar, and beat it with a whisk. Technically, the whisk was intended for tea, but it was the perfect thing for getting plenty of air into the mixture.

“Here, mix this,” Maomao said to Xiaolan.

“S-Sure...”

They didn’t have time to dally, so Maomao gave Xiaolan the scut work and moved on to the next thing herself. She put the ice on the table and cracked it with a hammer.

“What are you doing?!” Xiaolan cried as the chunks of ice got smaller and smaller.

“Don’t worry about me. You just whisk like your life depends on it.” Maomao put the shards of ice into the big bowl and added a little water, then tossed in a liberal handful of salt. Xiaolan shook her head as she watched. “Here, Xiaolan, put that in here.” They took the metal bowl and put it in the salted ice water. Then they continued to stir vigorously.

Xiaolan’s expression gradually went from one of surprise to one of wide-eyed shock. “Huh? I don’t believe it!”

The milk had begun to solidify and stick to the surface of the metal. Maomao scraped it off with the whisk and continued to stir. “Cut up those fruits, nice and small,” she instructed.

“Y-Yeah, sure thing...” Xiaolan took a cleaver and chopped up the fruit, depositing it on a dish. Maomao stirred as hard as she could, and the milk slowly settled into a solid but fluffy consistency.

“All done!” Xiaolan said.

“In here.” Maomao set the whisk down and began mixing in the fruit with a spoon, after which she poured the concoction into a glass bowl. Feeling it wasn’t quite enough, however, she added some sweetened stewed fruits over the top.

At that point she heard a distinct gulp. Xiaolan’s eyes, which had been running with tears until not long ago, were shining brightly.

“Is that...?”

“As you can see. Ice cream.”

If she’d had more time, she could have added eggs, or maybe some herbs to give it a nice fragrance. But she hadn’t had time, and that was all there was to it.

“How did you do it?” Xiaolan asked.

“We can talk about it later. Right now we have to get moving, or we won’t be in time.”

“I know, but...” Xiaolan looked at Maomao pleadingly. “We have to make sure it tastes right, don’t we?”

Realizing what Xiaolan was getting at, Maomao scooped up a bit of what was left on the surface of the metal container with her spoon and put it in Xiaolan’s mouth. As the cold ice cream melted in her mouth, Xiaolan’s face took on a joyous aspect, her fingers working open and closed.

Evidently, the treat was a success.

“Here! It’s ready! We did it! You can take this to the Lady Consort!” They packed the ice cream in its bowl in what was left of the ice and handed it to the eunuch. Both the man who had been guarding them and the one who had been transporting the ice looked at them wide-eyed.

“Did you really pull it off?” the eunuch asked skeptically.

In response, Maomao simply put a spoonful of the stuff in his mouth. His expression changed to one of rapture.

“I should think this will be acceptable,” Maomao said. The eunuch, his eyes still wide, reached out for another spoonful, but she batted his hand away. He looked at her somewhat dejectedly. “Come on, now!” she said. “Before it melts!”

“Yes, of course.” The eunuch placed the container carefully in a basket, wrapped it in a cloth, and then went running off. Their guard looked a touch envious, but seeing that his work was done, he stood and left.

Finally, Maomao and Xiaolan looked at each other.

“Thank goodness it all went well,” Xiaolan breathed.

“We don’t know that yet. The real question is whether the consort will like it,” Maomao said. She’d asked Jinshi if Loulan had any particular likes or dislikes, so the chances of the consort simply rejecting the ice cream outright were small. And she thought she’d made plenty of it, including enough to account for the checking for poison that would inevitably be necessary.

“Aw, don’t tease me like that. Anyway, come on, let’s eat the rest before it melts!”

“Yeah, better eat up!” a new voice said.

Maomao and Xiaolan looked over, startled, to find Shisui with the ice cream bowl firmly in her hands.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Xiaolan said.

“Eh, you know. There was some kind of commotion, and before I knew it, I’d dropped what I was doing and come to investigate.”

“You’re the worst!” Xiaolan exclaimed.

Maomao privately agreed, although she herself was hardly in a position to criticize.

“We had the most awful time... Oh! Shisui! Don’t eat it all by yourself! You can’t just steal someone else’s hard work!”

“Thif is delishous!”

“Stop that! Leave some for me!”

Shisui fled, the spoon still in her mouth, with Xiaolan in hot pursuit.

Guess I didn’t make enough. Maomao, wondering if the last of the ice would be enough to prepare another snack, started putting ingredients in the bowl again.