The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 8 - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Check

It was the middle of the night, and Maomao was rattling along in a carriage. A letter had arrived for her after she finished work for the day—it was from Jinshi, and had been brought very discreetly.

I wonder what he wants.

His summons had never yet been good news for her, and she didn’t have high hopes for that changing. But she was in no position to turn him down.

The last place they’d seen each other was the Go tournament. Much as she hated to admit it, having the freak strategist there had actually been comforting; she knew Jinshi couldn’t pull anything in his presence. But now...

Wonder where I’m going.

A ride in a carriage usually meant she was traveling to the residence of someone important—Ah-Duo’s villa, Empress Gyokuyou’s palace, Jinshi’s pavilion. But they were going the opposite direction from Jinshi’s chambers now.

The more lavish the buildings around her got, the more profusely and unpleasantly Maomao began to sweat.

When the carriage reached its destination and she was invited to disembark, Suiren was waiting for her. “It’s been quite a while,” she remarked.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Maomao.

“You’ll have to excuse the lack of ceremony, but I’d like you to come inside and undress.”

Maomao said nothing, just shuffled reluctantly into the building. One’s body had to be searched upon entrance to the rear palace—was this something similar?

“Master Jinshi summoned me,” Maomao remarked at length.

“Yes, and if it were only the young master, we wouldn’t have to go through this silliness,” Suiren replied. In other words, there was someone else here.

Suiren took Maomao’s robe from her. From the folds she extracted a writing kit, a pad of paper, some medicine, and bandages, one after another, until she looked downright exasperated. “Do you always carry all this with you?” she asked.

“I left my sewing kit at home,” replied Maomao. Meanwhile, she took off even her undergarment, leaving her scrawny body exposed to the cold air. She got goosebumps.

“What are you, a squirrel? Open your mouth; I’d better check your cheeks.”

As if it wasn’t bad enough to have to strip naked, now Suiren was peering around inside her mouth.

“Your teeth are very straight, Maomao,” the old lady-in-waiting observed approvingly.

“Hank hoo hery huch,” said Maomao.

“And your skin is so smooth. But perhaps you could remove this?” Suiren peeled back the bandage on Maomao’s left arm. Since Yao had forbidden her from hurting herself, it was in comparatively good shape.

“Why was I called here?” Maomao asked.

“Oh? You can’t tell me you have no idea. I wonder if you’re prepared.” She sounded teasing, but that actually set Maomao’s mind at ease.

“Is His Majesty present today?” All this effort to make sure she was unarmed suggested someone of considerable importance would be there. The searches in the rear palace had been rather simpler, but then, there had always been guards around there. She was given to understand that several were posted outside the room whenever the Emperor made a night visit to one of his consorts.

“It’s no fun teasing you, Maomao. Don’t you wonder if you were called here for a tryst?”

I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind. For all his faults, though, Jinshi typically went by the book. She wanted to think he wouldn’t do anything quite so abrupt. Anyway, if that’s where this was headed, I would at least get a bath, not just fresh clothes.

She passed her arms through the sleeves, then wiped away her freckles, dusting her cheeks with white powder. When she was done changing, she was brought to a door guarded by soldiers who bowed as she entered. There was another hall beyond the door, and beyond that, a room. Dim light shone by her feet, illuminating a single path, almost like it lit the way to some other world.

The room was warm inside; Maomao could hear the crackling of a brazier mingled with the chatting and laughter of three nobles.

“I’ve brought her, sir,” Suiren said; then she bowed and showed herself out.

Maomao was speechless when she saw who was there. Jinshi and the Emperor, she had expected. But not Empress Gyokuyou.

The space was actually two adjoining rooms, with the sliding door between them open. The second room appeared to be a bedchamber, while the one in which the three august personages sat was equipped with a couch and table as well as a desk. They were remarkable furnishings, and a striking aroma drifted through the room.

What is that smell? Maomao wondered. It seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. This being a room full of nobles, she hoped she could assume it was nothing dangerous.

“A most interesting company you’ve gathered, Moon Prince. Whatever do you have in mind?” Gyokuyou said, hiding her mouth with her sleeve as she laughed.

“I agree, and I wonder the same thing,” the Emperor said jovially. “With her here, I’m sure it’s something very intriguing indeed.”

It feels downright...domestic here. What’s going on?

No matter how you sliced it, Maomao was out of place in this room. Was she here simply to kick back and relax with the three of them? There were no ladies-in-waiting or guards that she could see, not even Gaoshun or Hongniang.

Keeping her head bowed, she puzzled over what she should do. Was she here to amuse the high folk? What ridiculous antics would she be put to?

Let me see if I can remember any good jokes from the pleasure quarter... No—Gyokuyou might enjoy them very much, but they seemed likely to fall flat with Jinshi. Those jokes tended not to turn out well for the men involved. Best keep them to herself.

If I’d known what was going on, I could have come better prepared. Maybe brought one of my “night visit” manuals.

No, that wouldn’t do either. The Emperor enjoyed those books, but she couldn’t be displaying them in front of Gyokuyou. And anyway, Suiren would have found and confiscated them during her search.

She was still wondering what she should do, what she could do, if there might be some entertaining little act she could perform—when she saw something that made her doubt her own eyes.

On a tray was a sprinkling of sand, upon which a branch and a stone had been placed almost carelessly. It seemed meant to evoke a garden—a little something to delight the visitors. But it was the materials of that “garden” that had Maomao’s attention.

Velvet antler, long gu, and...is that bear gall?!

Velvet antler was the antler of a deer; long gu, or “dragon’s bone,” referred to large, fossilized bones; and bear gall was exactly what it said—the gallbladder of a bear. All were medical ingredients of the most expensive kind. The antler was arranged to look like a tree branch, while the long gu were presented like rocks. Only the bear gall was just sort of...there, smack in the middle of everything. Had it been placed there specifically so that Maomao would notice it?

Are they mocking me? she thought. Surely they would have known that such a prize would never escape her notice, no matter how casually it was placed. She feared she might start to drool as she gazed at the medicines.

“Whatever do you have in mind here?” Empress Gyokuyou asked. “Is Maomao going to solve a fascinating mystery for us?” Her eyes were sparkling. Maomao had wondered if everything would be all right between them considering what had happened earlier, but judging by Gyokuyou’s current appearance, it looked like everything was fine. She suspected it might be different among the serving women: Hongniang might cut her some slack, but Haku-u and her sisters were most likely less than pleased.

These were people who were skeptical even of Gyokuyou’s half-brother. They couldn’t have been happy that she was meeting personally with Jinshi, even if His Majesty was present.

Maomao kept one eye on Gyokuyou, but she let her gaze wander the room—and she soon found more medicinal goodies. The ink stone on the desk was actually donkey-hide gelatin, a dark lump of gelatinous glue. Among the tea leaves, she spotted mint and cinnamon. The unique odor wafting around the room must have been a combination of all these various medicaments.

“No, Maomao’s role is yet to come. First, might I ask you to listen to what I have to say?” Jinshi smiled broadly and stirred the large brazier that stood by the far wall.

“I can do that!” Maomao said, her eyes sparkling. She was wondering if there might be something in the brazier as well.

“No, not today. I’m the one who summoned you here. And now I order you to have a seat,” Jinshi said. He gestured to one end of the couch, and Maomao had no choice but to sit. The upholstered seat was stuffed with cotton, and it, combined with the warm room, made her awfully sleepy.

No! Gotta stay awake, she thought, giving her head a gentle shake and taking a breath. If a fire was left burning too long, the air in the room could get bad and make it hard to breathe. There were no guards in the room, and no windows either. Perfect for a secret conference. At least there were a few vents to allow air to circulate.

Maomao wondered, though, what this rich collection before her could mean. In fact, she questioned their presence, considering she had been subjected to such a thorough search. Too much medicine could be poisonous, and almost anything could be dangerous, depending how you used it.

Those white strips over there—is that poria? she wondered. They sat in a bowl with chrysanthemum petals scattered on top.

The medicines were displayed so conspicuously—could she take this to mean that they would be given to her later?

“So what is this mysterious thing you wish to say to us?” the Emperor asked, stroking his beard and narrowing his eyes. It was a probing expression, but there was a hint of kindness as well.

There was wine, with appropriate accompaniments, on the table. Maomao’s eyes lingered on the alcohol, but it didn’t appear there would be any need for her to taste it; the nobles were already pouring for each other.

Drugs are good... But I like wine too.

“Would you like some?” asked Empress Gyokuyou, who had observed Maomao studying the drinks. “This wine is very good. Isn’t it, Majesty?” The Empress had weaned her child and could now enjoy some alcohol.

Yes! thought Maomao. Strictly speaking, her social position should have prevented her from drinking anything in this company. But if a superior invited her to a tipple, it would have been unconscionable to refuse. Yes, she had no choice but to imbibe.

“Indeed,” the Emperor said. “This seems like good, true grape wine.” The qualification suggested that talk of the poisonous wine had reached even the Imperial ears.

“I could never serve you anything poisonous, Your Majesty,” Jinshi said. “I need you to live a good, long time.” He gave his glass drinking vessel a gentle shake. So Maomao wasn’t going to get any wine after all. Jinshi was seated and had taken off his outer robe. Maybe he was warm from the fire and the wine.

“Are you sure there’s no cup for Maomao, Moon Prince?” Gyokuyou asked. Maomao looked at her with shining eyes.

“No, Maomao can’t drink yet. She’ll have work to do later.”

Maomao’s spirits plummeted. She turned a withering look on Jinshi, but he hardly seemed to notice.

“What work? I feel sorry for her, the only one left out of the drinking,” the Emperor said.

That’s right, you tell him! And order him to give me that medicine! Maomao clenched her fists triumphantly. But still Jinshi showed no sign of getting an extra cup. Instead he said, “I have need of her, if I am to make my request to you about the future of the throne.”

“Now, now. All night you’ve been treating me like some doddering old man.”

“By no means, sir. But does Your Majesty share our former ruler’s credulity about mystical medicines that can prolong the life span or even confer immortality? May I presume not?”

Hey, they might exist!

Maomao was not pleased. True, no such medicine had yet been discovered—even the panoply of ingredients in this room couldn’t make one immortal.

Ugh, what’s he driving at? I wish he would hurry up and get to the point...

“I very much need Your Majesty to survive for at least another twenty years,” Jinshi said. The number was so precise.

“Moon Prince... You seem to have some very specific idea in mind,” Gyokuyou said. She couldn’t help being somewhat unnerved. The Emperor was currently in his mid-thirties, and was the picture of health. No reason he shouldn’t remain hale and hearty for quite some time.

“And what, may I ask, happens in twenty years?” The slightest edge had entered His Majesty’s voice. Maomao tensed in spite of herself. One couldn’t allow oneself to forget that this lushly facial-haired man stood at the very top of the nation’s hierarchy.

“That is when the Crown Prince will assume his royal title, and I can finally relax,” Jinshi said.

It was Gyokuyou who spoke. “The Crown Prince?” she asked.

“Yes, milady. At ten years old, he will still be a child. At fifteen, he will formally enter adulthood, but it would be hard to have full confidence in him at that time. By twenty... Well, he’ll still be rather young, it’s true, but if we ensure that he’s surrounded by good people before then, there would be no problem.”

What was Jinshi talking about? Maomao felt herself break out in goosebumps despite the pleasantly warm room. She might even have gone pale, had she not spotted some caterpillar fungus and mu dan pi.

The Emperor set down his drink and narrowed his eyes. He no longer looked in such a good mood. “Perhaps you’d care to tell us what you base this scenario on.” It wasn’t really a suggestion, and that was what made it so scary.

If you just called me here to listen to unsettling conversations, please let me go home...with souvenirs. Maomao wished she could plug her ears and hide in a corner of the room. Empress Gyokuyou was not looking much at ease, either. She probably hadn’t expected such an unpleasant topic in this company.

“My basis is this: if anything were to happen to Your Majesty at this moment, the court would expect and urge me to take the throne.” Jinshi took a box, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, from the folds of his robes. Inside was a single golden pearl, about the size of a thumbnail, its surface flawless.

Pearls of such a size were extremely rare, especially in such fine condition. Even a layperson like Maomao could tell that a jewel like this would fetch a price that would make your eyes jump out of your head. Even the price of zhen zhu, a medical ingredient obtained by pulverizing pearls of lower quality, could do that.

“A rather rich accompaniment to send with the portrait of a potential match, don’t you think?” Jinshi asked.

“I won’t ask who sent it. I know you’re too much of a gentleman to tell anyway,” the Emperor said.

“Perhaps, but I imagine you can guess, Your Majesty.”

You could probably count on one hand the number of people who could and would send the Emperor’s younger brother a massive pearl in hopes that he would marry their daughter.

And if anyone with those sorts of resources is trying to forge a connection with Jinshi...

It would have to be either someone who stood to increase their own power from the match, or someone who sought to exercise indirect power through Jinshi. If the latter, success would put them on even footing with Empress Gyokuyou.

“And one more thing.” This time Jinshi took out a spoon—it was silver, but the metal was clouded. “There has been poison in my tea at my office. And during one ritual, someone shot an arrow at me.”

Did those things happen? Maomao thought. If they hadn’t reached her ears, then Jinshi must have ordered everyone who knew about the matters to be silent. There were those who wished to make Jinshi an ally, yes, but there were others who saw him as an obstacle. Such was the world of politics.

“Would you happen to know anything about any of this, Empress Gyokuyou?” asked Jinshi.

“No, nothing,” Gyokuyou replied, sounding faintly dismayed. No one believed the Empress herself was responsible for the attempts on Jinshi’s life—but there was always the possibility that one of her relatives was acting without her knowledge. That must have accounted for the tremor in her voice. And if some member of her family was involved, then her father Gyokuen seemed likely to have some part in the matter.

“Your Majesty, you well know that I have absolutely no interest in being emperor,” Jinshi said, but the ruler did not nod at his words. “Otherwise, why would I have spent six years pretending to be a eunuch in the rear palace?”

Maomao couldn’t stop herself; she covered her ears, but Jinshi, smiling, took her wrists and pried her hands away, placing them on her knees instead. He obviously wanted her to hear whatever he was going to say.

“I take no pleasure in such complicated matters,” Jinshi continued. “You have two sons, Your Majesty. Sir Gyokuen has received his name. Perhaps you would take this opportunity to grant me a name as well.”

Grant him a name? Maomao cocked her head. She looked from one of them to the other, trying to figure out what this might mean, and then her eyes met Gyokuyou’s.

“To be granted a name is to become a servant of the Emperor. In other words, to leave the royal family,” she explained. She still looked pale, and her words seemed to be less in deference to Maomao’s ignorance than a way of asking Jinshi whether she had understood him correctly.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. No. Wait.

Maybe it was complex and, frankly, annoying, the maneuvering one had to do as a member of the Imperial line—but it couldn’t be as simple as just asking to be let out of the family. For one thing, how many men were there in the Imperial family as it stood? The former emperor’s siblings had all died of disease. There might be maternal relatives Maomao didn’t know about, but as far as she was aware, the full complement of Imperial males included only the Emperor, Jinshi, Empress Gyokuyou’s son, and another son born to Consort Lihua. Just four people—and the Emperor’s sons were still infants. A baby might die at any time—you simply didn’t know. No matter how diligently you cared for them, no matter how carefully you raised them, they might be felled by illness one day, just like that.

He’ll never get his wish. If even Maomao knew it, surely the fact was not lost on the Emperor.

There was a clatter so loud it shook the large table, and Maomao felt her hair stand on end. Some meat buns rolled off a plate. The source of the shaking? The Emperor, who had pounded the table with his fist. His expression, usually genial, if noncommittal, was a mask of anger.

Please don’t!

Defying the Emperor could mean forfeiting one’s life. But he was normally in such jovial spirits when Maomao met him that she had begun to lose her awe of him, just a tiny bit. Now she felt her heart race. She looked around the room, hoping that one of the herbs might be something that could calm an angry disposition.

Gyokuyou’s face had gone white; perhaps this was the first time she, too, was seeing the Emperor in a fit of true anger.

Only Jinshi appeared unmoved.

“You promised, did you not? Or do you intend to renege, Your Majesty?”

“Think carefully. Is this the time or the place to say such things?”

“It is. If I don’t settle this matter swiftly, I’ll lose my chance to escape.”

Don’t pour oil on the fire! Maomao thought, as she felt herself start to sweat. She looked from Jinshi to the Emperor and back again, her eyes only occasionally wandering to the bezoar in the corner of the room. I wish I could look at that bezoar all day.

Sadly, her modest dream was crushed.

“Will you not make me an ordinary person?” Jinshi asked.

A thwack filled the room.

Jinshi sat down, face toward the ground. The Emperor’s fist was trembling.

In spite of herself, Maomao went over to Jinshi and forced his mouth open. No broken teeth, just a split lip. Still, he’d taken a fully committed punch to the face. There would be swelling soon. Maomao wanted to check His Majesty’s hand as well, but she dared not get near him.

“Is this why you insisted the apothecary not drink?” the Emperor asked, somehow managing not to shout. Gyokuyou gripped his wrist.

The room was intended for private conferences. The guards wouldn’t come running just because somebody slammed a table. Gyokuyou couldn’t shout, not even had she wanted to. If she cried for help, the Emperor himself might have stopped her.

“You needn’t worry, Empress,” Jinshi said.

The hell she needn’t! Maomao thought as she wiped the blood from Jinshi’s lip with a handkerchief. Had they called her here just so she could watch two brothers fight? If so, she wished they would have left her and Empress Gyokuyou out of it.

“I knew what I was walking into here. I’m prepared for much more than a bloody lip.” Jinshi stood, removing another layer of clothing and walking step by step over to the brazier. “Rest assured, Empress Gyokuyou: your enemy I shall never be.”

Jinshi smiled and loosened his belt, revealing his midriff, his belly button. No sooner had the belt come loose than he was picking up a poker from the fire. And then he did something none of them had expected, something none of them had even imagined.

There was a collective gasp and the stench of burning flesh. Even the stouthearted Gyokuyou swooned, and Maomao rushed over to catch her. The Emperor looked on aghast; he didn’t even try to cover his open mouth.

Jinshi fought the pain, forcing himself to smile. He returned the poker to the fire.

Maomao rested Empress Gyokuyou on a couch, then stared at Jinshi’s abdomen. He’d avoided his stomach, but on his flank, just above his pelvis, there was a burn. She recognized the shape: it was the crest Empress Gyokuyou had been given.

He won’t have damaged his internal organs. But—

But such a deep burn would leave a scar that would never heal.

I can’t believe he had that ready to go.

“Now, Empress Gyokuyou, I can never defy you. Even if His Majesty should depart this world, I cannot and will not threaten the Crown Prince.”

Maomao recalled a case she’d been faced with in the western capital: a bride who had faked her own suicide for fear of terrible abuse by her husband. The women of her family had long endured being branded like livestock.

To mark someone like a possession was as good as to make them your slave.

The Emperor didn’t say anything. His face, which had been contorted with rage moments earlier, was now blank, stupefied. He couldn’t have dreamed that Jinshi, the Imperial younger brother, would brand himself a slave.

There was only one thing for Maomao to do. The extremely high temperature of the burn prevented much bleeding, but it was still red and swollen. She doused her handkerchief in cold water and pressed it against Jinshi’s side. She looked around the room, searching desperately for oil and beeswax, and anything that could treat a burn. Angry that she had no tools to work with, she took an expensive-looking bowl off the shelf and started crushing the oil and beeswax together. She didn’t care if the bowl broke or the spoon shattered. She didn’t have time to care.

It might have been quicker to leave the room and ask somebody to get burn medicine, but that would expose Jinshi’s injury. Even though they had a room full of witnesses who knew that the brand was self-inflicted, it could only be dangerous for anyone in the wider world to be aware of the mark.

“You damned masochist!” Maomao grumbled as she prepared the oil-and-beeswax concoction. Nobody rebuked her. She was probably just saying what they were all thinking—perhaps including Jinshi.

Maomao heard a distinct thump, and discovered that it was the Emperor sitting down on the couch. “Did you really hate it that much? The idea of becoming emperor?” he mumbled.

“I always said I did, didn’t I?” Jinshi replied, grimacing. “If you still insist on my remaining in the line of succession, I’ll just have to make a nice, big wound in my left cheek too.”

Maomao immediately clapped her hands onto the sides of Jinshi’s face, but he smiled: “That was a joke.”

She let go of his cheeks, but she couldn’t let down her guard. There was no telling what he might do.

Empress Gyokuyou was woozy, but still conscious. Jinshi looked at her. “Empress, I know you were hoping Maomao could be your serving woman forever, but perhaps I could ask you to relinquish that dream. Now that I have this mark, I can’t let just anyone see my body.”

Well, whose fault is that? The salve was ready; Maomao rubbed some on Jinshi’s skin.

“I can’t even ask my lady-in-waiting to help me change my clothes now, let alone allow a doctor to see me. And above all...” He got to his feet, wrapping one arm around Maomao’s torso and pulling her with him. The cloth that had been cooling his midriff slid off.

“W-Wait! Master Jinshi!” Maomao tried to fight him, but with his wound right there, she couldn’t struggle too hard.

“My wife will have to be a woman I can trust implicitly.”

That made Maomao go pale in a hurry. She looked up; from her place in the crook of Jinshi’s arm, she could see he was wearing a fine smile.

“Is—Is that what you were really after?” Gyokuyou asked, scowling.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jinshi replied, feigning ignorance even though Maomao was still tucked under his arm.

Maomao reached out toward the Empress, desperate for help. Gyokuyou, however, only gave her a pitying look and shook her head. “Maomao, I think you’re half responsible for this.”

How the hell do you figure?!

She wanted to protest her innocence, to say this had nothing to do with her. But Jinshi placed a hand over her mouth, silencing her. “And if you are responsible, then I must ask that you live up to that responsibility,” he said.

So there would be no help from Empress Gyokuyou. Maomao looked to the Emperor. He stared vacantly back at her and Jinshi. “Zui...” he said. “Is this the path you’ve chosen?”

“It is.”

“And you won’t regret it?”

“I won’t.”

There was a sadness, a loneliness, in the Emperor’s eyes. For a moment it looked like the befacial-haired ruler was going to say something else, but then he spared an instant’s glance at Gyokuyou and swallowed it. Instead he said, “I’m going back. My guards will get cold if they have to stand out there all night.” The room was warm, but it was a winter’s eve. “I’ll let your people know that you’ll be spending the night here tonight.”

“My profound thanks for Your Majesty’s consideration.” Jinshi bowed deeply. His lip was still swollen, and Maomao hadn’t finished attending to his burn yet.

“I’ll go with you,” Gyokuyou said, rising. She looked so tired—Maomao wished she would be able to get some rest, but that seemed unlikely this night.

Wait... Hold on a second. If the two august personages departed, that would leave her alone with Jinshi.

Her mouth hung open and she stared at him.

“You may drink after you’ve tended to my wound,” he said. Sure, now he told her!

Maomao was desperate to leave the room with the Emperor and Empress, but she couldn’t let Jinshi’s injury go untreated. She hung there, stuck between a rock and a hard place, and also between Jinshi’s torso and his underarm, when he finally took his hand away from her mouth. He reached for the long gu on the shelf. “I wasn’t sure what would be useful, but I tried to collect as much medicine as I could,” he said.

Maomao didn’t say anything, but she felt her heartbeat quicken in spite of herself.

“You may use it freely. Any of it, as much as you like.”

The momentary distraction prevented her from seeing Gyokuyou leave the room, her sleeves swinging. Jinshi seemed in remarkably high spirits for having been hit in the face and then inflicting a serious burn on himself.

“M-Master Jinshi. Let me finish treating you, quickly.”

“The night is long still. We can take our time.”

“No, I want to get this over with!”

Jinshi pursed his lips, and he still didn’t let her go. “What does have you so displeased?”

“Displeased? I hardly know what’s going on! Who presses a brand into their own side?!”

“A damned masochist, that’s who.”

His words, not mine!

He was turning the tables on her. His color was surprisingly good, though he must still have been in pain. Nothing about this made any sense. Then Jinshi moved toward the inner room.

“Where are we going?” Maomao asked.

“I’d like to get some sleep after I have been treated.”

“Then let me finish treating you. Here.”

“No, you can do it while I’m lying down.”

Maomao wanted to turn violent but knew she still couldn’t—meanwhile, this monster of bodily endurance loped into the inner chamber.

“Or don’t you wish to accompany me into the bedroom?”

Now she really had nothing to say. She heard the teasing in his tone and glanced away from him.

Then she heard a long exhalation, and Jinshi said, “You don’t have to worry. I understand.” Then he stroked her bangs. “Anyhow, I’m told I’m only decently sized...”

Maomao almost choked. Jinshi’s smile had never looked more wicked. Maomao, completely forgetting about Jinshi’s injury, struggled mightily now, and who could blame her?

Even if it did cause her to miss what Jinshi said next, a quiet murmur: “I never did earn that favor I wanted.”