The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 9 - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Preparations

They were to leave in five days. It was so sudden that Maomao had to rush to prepare. She had to do the shopping, and there were quite a few people she needed to talk to.

Maybe I shouldn’t go around telling everyone I’m going out of town, she thought, but a communication had already gone out, so evidently it was okay. I definitely have to tell the old madam. She didn’t want to be greeted by another punch in the stomach when she got home.

So it was that she went to the Verdigris House, where the madam said, “Huh. That so? In that case, I want some ambergris as a souvenir.”

Yeah, that’s not happening.

The name of the substance, in Maomao’s language, meant “dragon’s saliva incense,” and it was indeed said to be made from a dragon’s drool, although that was not, evidently, where it really came from. It was very expensive, and also had medicinal functions; it was effective for the heart.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving again?! This is ridiculous! I’ve never heard of a court lady going so far from the court so often!”

This anguished objection came from the apprentice apothecary, Sazen. There were even tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. You’ll just have to manage somehow. You have Kokuyou, and you can always get in touch with my father if anything comes up.” Maomao handed him a signed sheet of paper, and that was it. A customer had arrived at the apothecary shop, so Sazen trudged back to help them.

I think he’s more of an apothecary than he gives himself credit for, Maomao thought. He was certainly a chronic worrier—maybe it caused him to think less of himself than he deserved.

“Goodness gracious. You’d better be careful. They say the sun in the west can give you an awful tan.” Such was the admonishment of Maomao’s older sister at the Verdigris House, Pairin, whose skin had a particularly healthy glow today.

Had a good customer last night? Maomao thought. Her sister’s sexual appetites went far beyond the ordinary, so for her, a “good” customer was more than just one with a lot of cash. No doubt he’d been a well-built specimen of a man.

“Here. You’ll be needing this for sure. Put it on every morning, then wash your face to take it off before you go to bed.” Meimei placed a ceramic vessel in Maomao’s hand. Presumably it contained some sort of cream that would be good for the skin.

“I’m not sure I’m always going to get the chance to wash my face,” Maomao said. The western capital was a long way off, and whether they went by land or by sea, water would be precious.

“They’re going to take our little Maomao somewhere like that? What idiot made that decision?” demanded Joka.

Funny you should ask. You might know him as a certain masked noble...

That accounted for all three of the Verdigris House’s famous princesses.

“Oohh, I’m worried about you! Is it too late for you to back out, Maomao?” Pairin said, hugging her close. She really had been busy the night before—the warmth was still radiating off her.

“Just think about it. The money we work ourselves to the bone to earn, the nobles are pissing away on a vacation,” Joka spat.

“Not at all! Those nobles help our business thrive. We’ll just have to wring them for all they’re worth—make sure the cycle continues,” Meimei said, her laughter clear and loud, in pointed contrast to the vulgarity of what she was actually saying. Then she gazed out the window. “I admit, I’m as worried as any of you... But I think there’s someone along who will be ruthless if anyone dares to lay a finger on Maomao.”

Now she looked at Maomao, her gaze sorrowful.

“Meimei,” said Maomao. “I’m going to keep this indirect, but I’m more worried about him than anyone.”

The freak strategist was going with them. Maomao didn’t know why, but if the people in the western capital had understood who they were dealing with, they would have asked for him to stay home.

Or maybe they weren’t in a position to refuse? Don’t tell me they actually invited him.

His absence wouldn’t be an issue in the capital, as his subordinates could keep his office running smoothly for months without him. Maomao’s real fear was about what kind of trouble he might cause on the road. Just picturing it was enough to make her head hurt.

Is this what they’re really using me for? She ground her teeth. She’d always known he could and would use anyone available to him—it was her fault for forgetting. In fact, oddly, she felt some small sense of relief to realize that the way he handled people hadn’t changed since the rear palace.

Those who stood at the top couldn’t afford to be swept away by sentiment. Jinshi’s behavior could be emotional at times, but Maomao believed there was still some trace of rationality at work in those moments. At least, she wanted to believe.

No... Not possible, she thought, immediately dismissing the idea. Otherwise, he would never have burned a brand into his own skin.

Having said all that, maybe this wasn’t really Jinshi’s fault. His hands might have been tied in his selection of personnel. It didn’t really matter. In the end, it meant trouble for Maomao, and nothing but.

She was putting away the cream Meimei had given her when a smart-alecky voice said from behind her, “Hey, Freckles!”

“Yeah? What, Chou-u?” Maomao turned, annoyed.

“You’re dumb!” he shouted, and with that the smart-mouthed brat ran off. He still dragged one partially paralyzed leg, but it obviously didn’t dampen his spirits. His lackey Zulin likewise stuck out her tongue at Maomao, then ran after Chou-u.

“What was that about?” Maomao muttered.

“Chou-u misses you, Maomao,” Meimei said.

“Hrm. And it looks like Zulin is still following him around?”

“That just started again recently.” Meimei looked troubled.

“Started again?”

“She’s got an older sister, you remember? The girl you brought in with her. She was training as an apprentice, and this year she began taking customers.”

“She did, huh?” So many women came and went in the Verdigris House, Maomao didn’t really keep track of them all. “Isn’t that a bit early?” She recalled the young woman being awfully thin.

“She’s fifteen. A decent diet went a long way toward putting some meat on her bones, and our customers started taking notice. She had everything she needed. She must really have been eating poorly where she came from.”

Moreover, the girl herself was full of ambition; she’d been eager to make her “debut.” It all must have inspired conflicting feelings in her younger sister.

“She’s not very cultured yet, but I think she’ll grow into it, that girl.”

“You think so? I think she’s a bit too prickly,” Joka said.

Pairin laughed openly at that. “That’s the last thing I want to hear from a woman who took the name ‘Joka’!”

It was not the name her parents had given her. The madam had been known to rename girls in order to encourage them to forget their past lives, but Joka had given herself a name that was a parody of the name of the goddess who had created the world—and it audaciously included the supposedly forbidden character ka.

“My mother always told me my father was someone very important. I have every right to use it,” she sometimes said.

A father who would justify the use of that character? The only people who could do that were the Imperial family. About the only person fitting that description whose age would make sense with Joka’s was the former emperor, but Maomao was well aware that that was impossible.

How must Joka have felt to know that her mother had been deceived? Maybe that was where her hatred of men sprang from. Maybe.

On top of it all, the old madam had actually let her use that prickly name.

Very scary.

The Verdigris House would carry on without Maomao. It was full of strong women—and actually, the men here were pretty strong, too, so things would be all right.

Maomao sighed and went on to the next stage of her preparations.

The sun was already low in the sky by the time Maomao finished her shopping and got back to the dormitory.

This next part might be the hardest of all, she thought, as she heaved a sigh and entered the building.

She could hear the steady thunk, thunk of a cleaver. She’s still at it, Maomao thought, peeking into the kitchen. Yao was there, chopping chicken under En’en’s direction. She was hardly an expert yet, but she’d dialed back the bone-smashing vigor of the other day and now looked like she was cooking a proper meal.

Maomao didn’t say anything.

En’en didn’t say anything.

Yao was too focused on her chicken to notice Maomao; En’en saw Maomao there and shot her a pleading look.

I think she’s saying...“We’re concentrating right now. Please don’t interrupt.”

Maomao was heading to her room instead when she met the woman who ran the dorm coming the other way. “Maomao, is it true you’ll be going away for several months? I can leave your room for you, but do you want me to clean it?”

The woman’s voice carried well, easily all the way to the kitchen. The result was predictable: an “Ouch!” followed by a “Mistress!”

Maomao peeked through a crack in the door and saw pretty much what she had expected. “Don’t do that, young mistress,” En’en said. “You mustn’t put your finger in your mouth! Raw chicken meat is dangerous. Here, I’ll give you some first aid.”

Even meat intended for food could contain poison or bugs.

“I think that’s a bit much, En’en,” said Maomao as she watched En’en wrap so much bandage around Yao’s hand that it was practically immobilized.

Maomao had involved herself now, but Yao looked peeved. It was obvious Yao wanted to say something, but Maomao wasn’t exactly the most socially adroit person in the world and wasn’t sure what she should say to Yao. Given that she was still learning how to hold the cleaver properly, it seemed highly unlikely that Dr. Liu had invited her to join the special classes yet.

Finally, Maomao said only, “I’m sorry. I’m going to be going away for a while.”

“I understand,” En’en said, and she had the good grace to look sorry about it—but just for an instant an expression passed over her face that Maomao couldn’t quite put a name to, one that said “Now it’ll be just me and Lady Yao!” Yao, thankfully, was looking at the floor and didn’t notice.

Yao understood as well as En’en did, Maomao suspected. She was a smart woman, and would get what was going on intellectually—it was just taking her emotions some time to catch up.

She’s still only sixteen, Maomao reminded herself. Four years younger than Maomao.

Figuring she’d said all she could say, Maomao was about to go back to her room when she heard another thump—this time of someone stomping on the floor.

“Maomao!”

“Yes?”

Yao’s breath whooshed out her nostrils like an angry boar. She stood tall, resolution clear on her face.

“Young mistress...” En’en had produced two folding fans, one inscribed Yao, the other inscribed Go for it! Where had she gotten those? Truly, this was a lady-in-waiting of sublime accomplishments.

Yao gave one more great snort and stood in front of Maomao.

“Here, young mistress.” En’en handed her some kind of booklet.

“Mn!” Yao pressed the booklet at Maomao.

“Wh-What’s this?”

“Wh-What do you mean, what?”

Yao couldn’t quite seem to get an explanation out, so En’en helped. “She copied things out of the books in the library. She collected as many examples as she could find that aren’t in the textbook, so I think even you’ll be surprised by some of what’s in there, Maomao.”

“Wha?” Holy shit, I want that. “C-Can I really take this?”

“W-Well, I said you could have it!” Yao shot back, although she had not, in fact, said that.

If she was offering, though, she didn’t have to offer twice. Maomao took the book and immediately began flipping through it. “Wow! Wooooooooow!”

“No! Don’t look now! L-Listen, I didn’t do anything that’s, you know, that big a deal. En’en insisted, so I copied out a little bit. Just a little bit!”

She was as sweet as she was sour, this girl! It was almost too much.

Unfortunately for Yao, Maomao could tell the difference between her handwriting and En’en’s—but she was decent enough not to point out which of them had done the copying.

Instead she bowed her head and said, “Thank you very much.” Almost before she knew what she was doing, she’d even grabbed Yao’s hand in a handshake. To be perfectly honest, she was so happy, snot could have come pouring out of her nose.

“Hmph... Well, you’ll need something to pass the time on your trip.” Yao was blushing and her voice seemed very quiet. Behind her, En’en was giving the handshake an icy look.

“I’ll be sure to get you something as a souvenir in return,” Maomao said.

“I don’t need any souvenir!” Yao said, and went back to the cutting board still looking annoyed.

“You can’t chop anything in that condition. At least let me tend to your injury,” Maomao said. If she let En’en do all the treatment, Yao seemed likely to end up as a bandage mummy.

Yao submitted to Maomao’s ministrations, but En’en loomed threateningly nearby the entire time.