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"But he's the prince!"
"So he should have no problem finding a doctor of his own."
"Miracle doctor, do I have to remind you that you're staying in my residence, as my guest?"
"Please, do remind me, lord Su, how treating your nephew for free is considered being a guest. I'm all ears."
It was difficult not to listen in, simply because he was in the same room and no one had told him to leave. Jinbao was seated by Que Siming's preparation table, grinding herbs since the early morning. It was a cold day and the doctor had covered his shoulders with a thick blanket before turning to his own work.
Jinbao wondered if he should ask to leave, but at the same time he didn't dare interrupting lord Su and potentially getting scolded by both of them.
Que Siming leaned back in his chair, arms folded. Jinbao couldn't help but think he looked tired.
"Lord Su, I'm not some personal helper for royalties. If I started treating whiny princes everytime they catch a cold, I'd change profession before summer's here or throw myself at my little assistant's sword."
"Miracle doctor, I..."
"I am tired, lord Su."
The sudden edge in Que Siming's tone was unmistaken and Jinbao peeked at him from his place at the table. The doctor, while being both strong and healthy, didn't look as vibrant as he'd done upon arrival. He had dark circles under his eyes and thinking back at the last three or four days, Jinbao had to admit the man hadn't shown the same energy as usual.
Sighing, the doctor threw his hands out.
"Lord Su, have you considered what would happen if prince Shaoyu disturbes my other patients? I'm not gonna pretend I think you care one bit about Huai'En, but your nephew does and he's not out of the woods yet."
"Are you threatening me?"
"That was me being diplomatic, lord Su. Tell the little prince to drink ginger tea, keep his feet warm and have a nap. That's what I usually prescribe patients with a cold. And if you forgive me, lord Su, I would appreciate some peace and quiet now."
Lord Su looked like he had more to say but considering how much he owed to Que Siming for helping out, he must've realised it was a bad time to push things.
"Jinbao, lets go. The doctor is tired."
"Who said anything about him leaving?"
Now it was Que Siming who seemed to have a thing or two to say and poor lord Su just looked perplexed.
"I thought the doctor wanted peace and quiet?"
"And as you can see, my little assistant isn't the one making a fuss here. I want peace and quiet and no one but Jinbao here right now. Could that be arranged, lord Su?"
"Of course, miracle doctor."
Su Yin left and Que Siming closed the door behind him with a sigh.
"Finally... Jinbao, could you please make me some peppermint tea?"
"Right on it!"
Serving people really was what Jinbao did best and he immediately left the table to heat up water. Que Siming sat down in his chair by the fire, eyes closed.
"Would you like a blanket, Siming?"
Calling the doctor by his personal name still felt a little strange but as long as no one else heard it, Jinbao found that he liked indulging that request. His ears heated when thinking about the morning after he'd been ravished by the man and woke up naked in his arms.
Que Siming had worn nothing but a dazed smile, his features soft and pleased like a cat resting on it's favourite spot. They'd not said much, just lingered together under the covers until propriety forced them to get presentable. Jinbao had asked the doctor if he wanted breakfast and the man looked at him with half-opened eyes:
When we're alone, please call me Siming.
Now, the peculiar man gave a tug of a smile.
"I'd like that, little assistant."
Serving Que Siming had turned out to be quite easier than Jinbao – or anyone – had anticipated. Of course, no one could know just how intimate they'd become, but hearing young master's and Zhaocai's suspicious concern about how the doctor might mistreat him, started to become a little ridiculous.
Does he let you rest properly? He's not scolding you too harshly, is he? You have to tell me if he's mean to you. He looks so fierce and he doesn't care to be polite at all! I'd never forgive myself if I allowed him to bully you.
Fetching a thick blanket from the bed and draping it around Que Siming's shoulders, Jinbao thought to himself that in some ways, serving the sharp tongued genius was ten times less strenuous than following every wish and fancy of young master.
In other ways, it was a challenge.
While Que Siming wasn't mean to him, he was somewhat of a riddle and serving him meant taking things into consideration that Jinbao wasn't used to.
The doctor was, first of all, extremely pedantic, not only when it came to cleanliness and handling his herbs and medical tools. He could show streaks of genuine discomfort when small, seemingly mundane things were out of what he perceived as order.
The bed had to be completely stripped every morning, mattress, pillows and blankets hung out to air and then made with fresh sheets, no matter if anything more than sleeping had occurred. Washing the night off took time as well and while Que Siming didn't demand an actual bath in the morning, he still required plenty of hot water to wash properly.
Jinbao had never given much thought to how intimate the act of washing could be until he'd been asked to help tending to a completely naked Que Siming behind the privacy screen.
The man had called on him, told him to scrub his own hands first and then go over his body with a soap lathered rug. The first time, Jinbao had felt thoroughly embarressed during the act, forcefully looking away whenever he'd accidently glance at Que Siming's face or groin. He'd never helped anyone that closely before and when he'd hesitated by the man's hips, Que Siming simply said:
Everywhere. Please.
Jinbao didn't imagine to know the man's wants and thoughts, but he was fairly certain nothing about the washing procedure had anything to do with lust or teasing. He'd forced away any thoughts of the previous night and performed the task diligently, reminding himself that the doctor trusted him to make sure he was clean.
As expected, nothing had happened except Que Siming's little frown going away once they were done.
Jinbao made sure the thick blanket was pulled up to cover the man's shoulders and then knelt to put a brazier close to his feet.
"Should I pull your boots off too?"
"Yes."
Que Siming's feet did feel a little cold and Jinbao held them between his palms for a moment before putting them on the footstool with the brazier at a comfortable distance. He fetched the teapot and poured a cup with the peppermint tea, the scent in of itself very refreshing.
"Here you go, it's very hot."
"Thank you, little chambermaid."
It hadn't slipped Jinbao's notice how the doctor often called him petnames when they were alone. Little seamstress, sweetheart, horsemaster... The first times it had felt like friendly teasing, later wrapped in what turned out to be lust.
This one carried gratitude, not primarly for the tea itself, but the simple act of service. Jinbao felt quite pleased with himself, seeing how the doctor leaned back in the chair with closed eyes, sipping on the hot tea.
"Do you need anything else, Siming?"
"No, sweetheart, I'm..."
"Miracle doctor! Miracle doctor, are you there? This is urgent!"
Jinbao cursed inwardly at the demanding voice and went to the door. Opening it slightly, he saw prince Shaoyu standing there, with a face worthy of a slighted wife.
"Your highness, the mir..."
"I demand to see him! I'm ill! Where is he?"
Que Siming didn't speak up and Jinbao tried to muster up more forcefulness at the aggrieved royalty in the door.
"I'm sorry, your highness, but the doctor has been working very hard lately and needs his rest."
"I'm the crown prince, servant! How dare you stop me from entering? Where's the doctor?"
"He's resting, your highness and no one can disturb him right now unless there's an actual emergency."
"This is an emergency!"
Jinbao looked up and down prince Shaoyu's frustrated person.
"Is your highness bleeding anywhere or been poisoned?"
"That's none of your concern! Move or I'll have you whipped!"
It wasn't that the threat was idle, Jinbao had no reason to think prince Shaoyu would think twice about whipping a servant, but Jinbao wasn't his servant and more importantly, Que Siming was very tired.
"Forgive me, your highness, but I can't possibly go against both the miracle doctor's and lord Su's direct orders. If the miracle doctor isn't allowed rest, he'll turn ill himself and then what? What if your highess' cold turns worse and the miracle doctor is too ill to be of any help, only because he had no rest?"
"You...!"
The prince had been ready to go on a tirade, but perhaps he wasn't entirely unreasonable because he cut himself off and Jinbao almost felt a bit sorry for him. It seemed like the prince didn't feel very welcome in his uncle's home right now and Jinbao put on his most serious and pleading face and knelt before him.
"Please, your highness, I beseech you to let the miracle doctor rest, not because of lord Su's orders, but for the sake of the miracle doctor's health and everyone's safety! He cannot treat patients while exhausted, it wouldn't be safe. I promise I'll talk to him and let him know you're the first in line to see him the moment he feels better. Would that suffice, your highness?"
"Hmpf! I'll let my uncle know about this, be sure! I'll deal with you later!"
Prince Shaoyu turned around and left, his swift walking telling that the cold might not be that serious, after all. Jinbao rose and closed the door with a relieved sigh.
"Thank you, little doorkeeper."
Que Siming's voice almost had him jump.
"Jinbao..."
Scrambling back to the doctor, Jinbao realised he was shaking and he sank down beside the man's chair.
"I spoke out of line! He'll have me whipped or have young master suffer for..."
"Come here, sweetheart, sit with me..."
There wasn't room for another man in the chair but Que Siming patted his lap and grown man or not, Jinbao immediately accepted his place and the tired man's arms around him.
"I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so stupid, I..."
"Do you know what the worst thing about being a doctor is?"
"Uh... Well... incurable diseases?"
"That's just something one has to accept at times."
"Plagues?"
"Again, there's no meaning in breaking down over things outside your control."
"Dirty patients, then?"
"Close, but no."
The doctor kissed his cheek.
"The worst thing are all the people who always forget doctors aren't gods who don't need to sleep, eat or take a piss."
"I shouldn't have spoken to him like that. Siming, I've really messed up, I'm such an idiot..."
"You looked out for me, Jinbao. Few people do that."
Que Siming hugged him tighter, strong despite the weariness in his voice and Jinbao let himself bask in it. The chilly afternoon was turning into even colder evening, the sky outside slowly shifting colors with the fading daylight. Wondering for a moment if young master and master Huai'en were warm and comfortable enough, Jinbao let the thought slide, knowing that Zhaocai and lord Su's other servants would deal with that as long as needed.
Feeling the doctor's heartbeats against his own body in the quiet room was calming, reassuring somehow and Jinbao leaned into his hair, nuzzling it.
"I'll always look out for you, Siming."
Que Siming just made a soft hum and a moment later, the miracle doctor was asleep, snoring on Jinbao's chest.