Chapter Text
"Ssh-sh," a wooden stick flares briefly at the end and begins to burn softly. Maomao takes it in her hands and directs the first puff of smoke towards herself with her palm. The scent of tea tree hits her nose.
It's a good incense, of high quality. The aroma is strong but not overpowering. Perfect for a sick child.
Sticking the incense stick into the holder, Maomao tucks the remaining ones into her bosom. They'll definitely burn through a couple more during the night because little Princess Linli has a fever, and they need to deal with it somehow. Unfortunately, using medicinal oil in the traditional way is not possible because it has mysteriously run out in the harem. After the last inventory, it quickly disappeared, and they didn't have time to get more.
Jinshi was present during the improvised raid on the pharmacy. After the sad news from the healers, he became very preoccupied and suspiciously disappeared from sight quickly. Maomao didn't even have a chance to ask if they could borrow something from the medical section of the outer palace.
"Make wa-ay!" Inhua rounded the corner suddenly as Maomao was opening the door to Lady Gyokuyo's hall. She had to quickly press against the wall because the maid was speeding with a basin of water, and a bad brake could lead to a collision. Being drenched wasn't desirable.
Linli was found lying on her mother's lap. Red cheeks, labored breathing from a runny nose, and a persistent fever — this scene had been ongoing for the second day, and Maomao could feel Gyokuyo's despair in her bones. In fact, Gyokuyo had infected her daughter. Despite the Jade Palace's efforts to prevent this, it was unsuccessful.
The concubine herself had quite easily weathered the illness, and even pregnancy wasn't an obstacle. But what is easy for an adult body often becomes a trial for children.
"Come on, turn around," Inhua chirped like a swallow as she gently wiped Linli's arms and legs with a wet towel. The procedure was unpleasant — a cold, damp cloth on fevered skin perfectly complemented the existing chills. But there was no other way; the body needed cooling.
Maomao looked at the girl's face, heard the growing whimper, and understood — a new cry was coming. So she hurried and began mixing the necessary powders faster. She brought the incense, now to concoct the medicine, and she could get out of here. Maomao couldn't handle a child's tantrum today, her head was already aching from a sleepless night. Only the heavens knew what this night would bring. She needed at least five minutes of peace to nap!
"Xiaolin, my dear Xiaolin," Gyokuyo cooed, stroking her daughter's head. Touching gently. "You have to endure. You're strong. And your hair is the same color as the feathers of the legendary phoenix."
Linli continued to whine softly, but her eyes no longer squinted. Her mother's voice was hypnotic. A melodic fairy tale was always better than a simple dialogue. To be honest, Maomao didn't really listen to what the lady was murmuring, only noting the tone and character of her voice.
And she took advantage of this moment to bring the cup of drink.
"This bird lives far, far away in the mountains, high, high up to be closer to the sun and the full clouds," as Gyokuyo's words accompanied, Inhua splashed the towel in the basin. "In the mornings, it drinks wild dew, pecks bitter roots, and feasts on sour berries."
While Linli opened her mouth in admiration, the prepared medicine was slipped in. Thanks to the distraction, the girl realized the unpleasant taste of the drink only after swallowing it. Phew, the main task was accomplished.
A loud cry echoed through the room. Maomao couldn't help but grimace as she quickly gathered all her medicinal paraphernalia. But Gyokuyo, meanwhile, didn't stop, continuing her tale while hugging her daughter.
"The phoenix received its scarlet color not just like that. It was given by the heavens for great merits, for a tremendous effort."
Only now did Maomao pay attention to the main character of the story. "A phoenix, huh?"
She knew of one name where this character was present. A fateful personality.
It seemed time to leave, but Maomao hesitated. She decided to check the integrity of all the collected packets again. You never know, they might spill on the way in the basket. And the product was valuable!
"A person does not exist alone — they are necessarily connected with someone: parents and relatives, friends and tribesmen, finally, with their own spouse and children. And this connection is called bonds — the sacred thread of fate. It is woven by the phoenix from its own feathers."
Maomao, prepared to hear another tale about the beneficent and all-forgiving essence, was even surprised. The story was very different from the one she knew. Although Maomao had never been interested in legends, she had received a basic literary education in the Copper House at one time.
"The local legends say that this magical bird appears only once every thousand years, heralding times of prosperity and well-being," Gyokuyo didn't get distracted by the slamming door. Ailan had entered. She was carrying a large tray with food. "But all this is a big lie. The phoenix appears to each of us in the first minutes of life, connecting us with all the people who will become close to us in the future."
"Family bonds are woven into braids," Ailan picked up the melodic tone as she rearranged the bowls of dinner on the table, "that's why we say there is strength in hair."
"And the thread of love, marriage, is tied to the little finger," Gyokuyo took Linli's small hand in hers and rubbed her fingers.
Well, that was informative. Indeed, the high-flown words made Maomao's head spin. Western tales are very different from the local ones. This story was definitely from the lady's homeland.
"Actually, this is Honnyan's favorite legend," Inhua sneaked up to Maomao and whispered in her ear, "I heard her muttering something like 'bless me with love, oh sacred bird, ignite the flame of feelings in me!' in her sleep just a week ago."
"And what's the fire got to do with it?" Maomao was tempted to joke about a smoked chicken. She also recalled a joke about roasting of a different kind, but courtesans usually laughed at that, while noble ladies like the esteemed Honnyan would smack you on the head for it.
"Isn't it a bit late to ask for blessings when it comes to children?" — Maomao swallowed this question because she wasn't sure she knew all the superpowers of the senior maid. What if she could hear through walls? Then her punishing hand would be unstoppable. Disciplinary beatings from Honnyan certainly brought nostalgic thoughts of home and the managing grandmother, but Maomao was determined to reduce the number of thumps on her much-suffering head.
"Well, how come? The phoenix is a fiery entity!" as if this explained everything. But Inhua seemed quite satisfied with her answer and didn't intend to continue.
Maomao sighed. This is why she didn't like such stories.
***
A faint smoke curled over the cup. Maomao lazily watched it, waiting for the tea to cool a bit. Her thoughts, however, were elsewhere.
For some reason, Gyokuyo's legend wouldn't leave her head. Perhaps it was due to another sleepless night spent by the entire Jade Palace fighting Linli's fever.
The morning sun pleasantly warmed her head. Maomao stretched one hand towards it while stretching her back stiff from sitting. Her gaze habitually fell on her crooked little finger.
So, the thread of fate is tied to it, is it? In that case, Maomao would never meet hers because this finger was chopped off in childhood. Along with the ability to love, apparently.
"What are you doing, herbalist?" Jinshi suddenly emerged from the bushes. Maomao flinched slightly. This is what lack of sleep does, she missed someone approaching.
"Trying to protect myself from sunburn," Maomao turned her body and shielded herself from Jinshi with her hand. Early morning, and he was annoyingly cheerful, fresh, and shining with his beautiful face no less than the sun overhead. "What brings you here at this hour, sir?"
Jinshi pursed his lips slightly at this, giving his face a boyish expression. There it was again.
"I couldn't come to see you yesterday, I was swamped with work," he took out a small bottle from his sleeve. "Tea tree oil, right?"
Jinshi placed the bottle in Maomao's hand. His fingers were warm, making the touch unexpectedly pleasant amidst the chill of the spring morning.
"Thank you," Maomao bowed. Although Linli's fever had already subsided, the Jade Palace would be glad to have such an ingredient in reserve for the future.
The glass of the bottle also retained the warmth of someone else's hands, it wasn't the usual cold.
Maomao hastily hid the oil in her bosom and grabbed her cup. Perhaps she would continue her tea in her room. After a brief farewell to Jinshi, Maomao headed to her quarters. The garden bid her farewell with a gentle rustling of leaves.
How ironic that the woman who took away part of her little finger is named Fengxian — the immortal phoenix. A foolish, foolish woman who went against the nature of her name and now withers like grass in autumn. An unhappy woman who chose the path of destruction over creation.
But Maomao wouldn't be sad about it, as she never had been before. She would not repeat the same mistakes. Love, feelings — she didn't need them, for she had her passion for poisons and herbs. And this would stay with her forever, bringing pleasure that wouldn't fade over time.
Maomao couldn't resist and sipped her tea while walking. Somewhere in the background, she heard silver laughter. It felt as if someone was laughing at her thoughts.
Amidst it all, Maomao recognized the cheerful chirping of a bird. For some reason, the image of a bird as red as a windy sunset, the one Gyokuyo had spoken about yesterday, immediately appeared before her eyes.