The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 7 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Medical Assistant

The five new medical assistants, including Maomao, would spend the first month of their employment at the medical office near the army training grounds, learning the ropes. Why that particular office? Because it was the busiest by far.

It didn’t matter that Maomao had Jinshi’s personal recommendation; she received no special treatment. If she wanted to go to the rear palace, she was going to have to prove herself through her work. Every day, soldiers were carted into the office for care. Scrapes, scratches, and cuts were the assistants’ bread and butter, but more than once they had to stitch someone up too. It certainly was the perfect way to get accustomed to the job.

Maybe they’re more serious about this than I thought, Maomao said to herself. Both the new department, which she’d thought might be purely an outward display, and her colleagues, whom she had assumed were only there to find suitable marriage partners.

Two of them look particularly dedicated. Of the other four new court ladies, two went about their work with noticeable verve: one whom Maomao had taken to be a leader of the gaggle of women, and another who seemed inward and quiet.

As for the remaining, less enthusiastic two women, they fainted at their first sight of blood. After a few days, they had started to get used to it, although they still looked disgusted on a regular basis. Maomao wasn’t sure it was the best idea to make faces like that at sweaty, muddy soldiers.

“En’en, grab me some of those bandages.”

“Yes, Lady Yao.”

So the demure, quiet woman, En’en, appeared to be the attendant of the court lady named Yao. In this office, they were technically colleagues, but it was clear from their interactions that there was a difference in status between them.

Yao was a well-developed and vivacious young woman; even without palace work on her resume, there must have been many people who would have been happy to have her for their bride. En’en was less outgoing, and didn’t show much expression, but she had a pretty enough face, and she exuded an unmistakable competence.

Maomao was washing bandages as fast as she could. They were going to be wrapped around open wounds, so they had to be as clean as possible at all times. After washing, they were boiled to disinfect them and then dried.

Maomao’s colleagues continued to give her a hard time. They spared her only the bare minimum of conversation—although since Maomao tended not to initiate talk either, it was a little hard to say who was at fault there. The doctors intended to make full use of the ladies, and since Maomao already knew how to do the work, she rarely had to ask for help. She just did things. The result was that she finished jobs without being particularly friendly with anyone.

She was just putting the boiled bandages out to dry when one of the physicians said, “Might I ask you something?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you finding anything difficult about this work?”

The doctor looked familiar. After a second, she realized he was the medical officer she’d become acquainted with while working for Jinshi.

“Nothing specific, sir.”

“And I notice you eating by yourself at mealtimes.”

“The food here is delicious, if I may say so.”

For one thing, it actually tasted like something—the medical office was probably served the same stuff as the soldiers—and unlike at the rear palace, you could get seconds.

“That’s not what I’m getting at. Doesn’t it hurt that the others are obviously ignoring you?”

“Things might be easier for them if they would ask questions of me, sir, but the reverse isn’t really true.” If anyone was disadvantaged by the silent treatment Maomao was getting, it was the ones giving it. Okay, so sometimes she missed important messages because no one told her about them, but every time one of the doctors tried to give her a dressing down, he found a freak glaring at him through the window, and eventually the scoldings stopped. The freak’s appearances continued, however, such that he had to be dragged away by his subordinates several times each day.

In fact, it must have been the physicians, trying to teach, who were put in the hardest position by the rift among the ladies. Maomao did feel a little bad for them. “I’m afraid I’m not really sure how to make friends with them... But I might know a little something about how to handle that freak.”

There was a beat. “Please, tell me.”

The trick was simple: invoke Luomen’s name. She felt bad for her old man, but it really sucked having the freak constantly lurking around. Another tactic you could use was to give him a record of a game of Go; he would be a good boy for as long as it took him to read it. The risk was that if he saw any particularly bad moves, he might go into teaching mode.

“May I ask you something else?” the doctor said, keenly aware of the monocled old dude peering at them from the shadows of the trees. When had he gotten back? His gaze was focused, sharp as a knife, on the physician talking to Maomao. “What exactly is your relationship to the honored strategist?”

“He’s a stranger to me,” Maomao said.

“But surely...”

“A total stranger,” she said firmly, and went back about her work.

When she started working in the medical office, Maomao took up residence in a nearby dormitory on the palace grounds. The pleasure district wasn’t so far away that she couldn’t have commuted, but there was a desire to avoid any unpleasant rumors should word get around about where she was living. She was concerned for her apothecary’s shop, but knowing that Kokuyou would be keeping an eye on things put her mind somewhat at ease.

Her old man was likewise living in a dormitory. The physicians had frequent night duty, and more than a few medical officers had ended up all but living in the “on-call room” near the medical office. Even Maomao’s father seemed to go back to his dorm only rarely. As for Maomao, her room wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small; there was a bed, a dresser, and enough space for a writing desk, so she had no complaints.

There also happened to be a bookshelf. Books were too expensive for her to buy very many, but you could borrow the books at the medical office if you asked permission. All in all, Maomao found life here fairly congenial. The only problem was that everyone had to prepare their own meals. There was a restaurant not far away, but Maomao often borrowed a stove to make congee for herself.

She sat on the bed and opened some mail that had evidently arrived during the day. There were two letters: the first was from the pleasure district, informing her about how the shop was doing. The madam was leery of Kokuyou, but so far he hadn’t done anything to give her cause for concern. Sazen seemed to be doing well enough too.

The other letter was from Jinshi. It had come in Gaoshun’s name, but the handwriting was Jinshi’s. It read like a basic rundown of what had been going on recently, with nothing that would be problematic if seen. In fact, he was talking about the new middle consort at the rear palace—Aylin, the woman from Shaoh. Just in case the letter should be intercepted by some unintended recipient, she was written of in terms of a “beautiful flower” from a foreign nation.

Still, something was strange. This new woman certainly had her quirks, but when she’d come to the rear palace, she had done so alone. Why be so cautious of her? Maomao finished reading the letter and put it away in her letter box. Aylin, the report related, didn’t seem to have done anything suspicious yet.

Some days later, she would understand. But at that point in time, she had no way of knowing.

Maomao was pretty used to the medical office by now. Each day she would work, and the freak strategist would peer endlessly through the window, until her old man came and collected him.

Her father, Luomen, had a bad leg, so it wasn’t very nice for him to have to make the round trip repeatedly. Recently, he’d taken to having the freak hauled away on a cart. It didn’t look very comfortable, but her father was missing the kneecap of one knee, so what was he supposed to do?

“Hmm?” Maomao said. Luomen had just appeared again—hadn’t he dragged the freak away just a few minutes earlier? Maybe he’d forgotten something, she thought, but he came into the medical office. Maomao grabbed the dry bandages and went inside. The other court ladies were already in a neat line. Apparently she had once again been left out of the loop. Scowling, the medical officer told her to get in line.

“I’m planning to go to the rear palace today, and I’d like an assistant,” Luomen said. So that was what had brought him here. The rear palace had the quack doctor, but recently Luomen had been going there too. The other palace physicians still had their most important of possessions, so only the eunuch Luomen could enter the rear palace.

“If you’re looking for volunteers, I’ll go,” said Yao, the one who seemed to be in charge of the other court ladies, stepping forward. As soon as she did so, two of the others joined her.

“I’m afraid we’ve already decided who’s to go,” the medical officer said.

Yao gave him a look. “Would that be referring to this young lady?” she asked, glancing at Maomao but not deigning to use her name.

Maomao didn’t much care if Yao didn’t want to remember her name, but she wished she wouldn’t try to interfere with her going to the rear palace. That was supposed to be the whole job she was here to do.

“She only ever does the laundry,” interjected another of the court ladies, one whose name Maomao hadn’t bothered to remember herself. “I don’t even know if she can do real medical work. Although I suppose she’s all right at cleaning up. Do you suppose she’s better suited to being a maid than a court lady?” Two of the women snickered to each other.

I have to do it because you don’t, Maomao thought. She wasn’t particularly offended by the idea of being a maid as such, since she’d been exactly that for quite a while. She did wish, though, that they wouldn’t try to stop her from doing her literal job.

Just when she was thinking maybe she needed to say something back to them, the second medical officer—the elderly one who’d tested the women upon their arrival at the office—clapped a hand on the anonymous ladies’ shoulders, smiling, and said, “Yes, I see. You two can go home now.”

The sudden pronouncement left them wide-eyed. “B-But why?” one of them asked.

“Because I told you all to make sure to do the laundry, yet you seem to have decided it doesn’t fall within the scope of your duties. And you think I can keep you here like that? I particularly dislike that kind of person.” His tone was gentle enough, but it was clear there would be no arguing. “You did pass the test, but I’ve discovered you’re not cut out for medical work. You’ll be able to go to a different department instead, but you should prepare yourselves for the fact that most places do much more laundry and cleaning than we do here.”

With that, he gestured to the younger medical officer to show them out.

“L-Lady Yao!” one of them exclaimed, hoping for a lifeline. Yao and En’en, though, just looked at her. Maomao had taken them to be such a clique, but it turned out maybe they weren’t so close after all.

The doctor turned to Maomao, the other two remaining court ladies, and Luomen and said, “Now that it’s a little quieter in here, perhaps I should add one more thing. There’s something else I despise: nepotism.”

Luomen’s eyebrows knitted in an expression of consternation.

Don’t tell me, Maomao thought, looking from one of them to the other. She’d believed she had successfully passed the test, but judging by the men’s looks...maybe she hadn’t. Even if she had, there was no denying that productivity had taken a hit since her arrival thanks to the constant incursions of the freak strategist.

“Those who are not here because of family connections are invited to demonstrate it through the excellence of their work. That’s all I have to say. Now, hurry off to the rear palace or wherever it is you’re going.”

Maomao’s old man, still looking concerned, gave a dip of his head. He ended up taking all three of them with him to the rear palace.