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Maomao recognized the strong scent before Jinshi even held the small bowl. The aroma floated around the Garnet pavilion aimlessly, drifting around each room that made Maomao’s tongue yearn for the sweet taste. Maomao waits and watches as the eunuch in front of her happily sucks on the spoon of honey, that unforgettable grin plastered on his face.
“So I see all went well at the Garnet pavilion.” Jinshi says, tapping the edge of the ceramic with his spoon. The syrupy, thick substance dripping off the spoon and returning to the bowl.
“Yes,” Maomao responds.
Jinshi nods, twirling the utensil within the honey. The soft clink of the beat of the bowl and spoon makes a slow melody of music throughout the room, “It truly is a shame what happened to Fenming.” He sighs.
Maomao nods in agreement. It wasn’t hard to figure out once she put all of the pieces together. The bandages, Lishu, Ah-Duo’s late son, Maomao’s own father, and all of the honey that came from Fengmings family.
“Yes,” Maomao repeats. Deciding to keep quiet about her conversation to Fenming that would decide the lady-in-waitings fate.
Jinshi nods, scooping up another helping, and Maomao cannot help but wonder why she is still here? Listening to Jinshi’s spoon dance against the bowl while he sucks on his honey like a happy child. She peeks over to Gaoshun, hoping that he will know what this long, random, and embarrassing silence has to do with her. But the older man is silent, gaze fixed to the folding screen while his mind drifts elsewhere. Maomao sulks, jealous that he’s able to use Jinshi’s obnoxious sounds as white noise for his own happy place.
“Well,” Jinshi shouts abruptly, making the poor apothecary flitch at the sudden sharp noise. He drops his spoon on the table, clattering loudly against the wood, “You certainly did a good job, apothecary, and all good girls should be rewarded.” Maomao stills, visibly confused. Watching as Jinshi’s robes flow as they follow his every movement while he slides off his lounge chair. The small jar of honey is still settled in the palm of his hand. That shit-eating grin still stuck on his face as he walks towards Maomao.
Carefully, while humming a sweet tune, Jinshi sticks two long fingers into the center of the jar, only to be pulled out seconds later. His middle and index finger glisten with gold, excess honey drips from his fingertips landing on the tiled floor with a silent splat.
He’s coming closer.
Maomao feels an uncomfortable shiver dance down her spine, a sign that she needs to move. Get away from this perverted eunuch and into the safe hands of Lady Gyokuyou, who will scold him into cornering Maomao into his lewd fantasies. Every step that Maomao moves backwards, Jinshi approaches closer. A predator attacking its prey. A sly fox, cornering a helpless bunny into a trap. Maomao just needs to act fast. Faster than Jinshi. Fast enough with her small, frail body so that she can evade the honey that drips off his fingers and comes closer to her lips.
Another step, and her back hits the wall. She’s trapped.
“Oh it has a wonderful taste,” he purrs, now standing directly in front of her. The jar is placed on a side table, and with his now free hand he tilts her chin upwards. He towers over her, trapping her in between the wall, his frame, and the thick coat of honey on the skin of his fingers, “It’s a rarity, you know. Honey is very expensive, but lady Ah-Duo was nice enough to gift me some for free. And after all the hard work you’ve done, you should certainly enjoy it as well.” He whispers despite the lack of space that is between the two of them. A secret that can only be shared for them and them alone.
Nervously, Maomao swallows the lump that forms from the base of her throat. She cannot deny the fact that being surrounded by seemingly unending jars, the wax, the desserts. After a while, for the days that she resided in the Garnet Pavilion, she began to yearn for it more and more. She had put her job ahead of her taste buds. It doesn’t help that Jinshi’s fingers are centimeters away from her lips.
“Apothecary,” he calls out again. Maomao wants to deny it. The smell, the thick gold that shines, how she can feel the sweetness on her tongue without even having to lap up the taste, “most would be eager to enjoy-”
Maomao couldn’t help it anymore, afterall she is a taste tester, it would be wrong if she were to refuse food. It could be poisoned.
Jinshi’s fingers are long and slender. They aren’t thick like Lihaku’s, instead they’re more feminine. They sit on the center of her tongue, vibrating in a nervous panic while Jinshi’s entire face flushes into a pink rose.
“I-I didn’t think you would-” Jinshi’s voice trembles. To be fair, Maomao didn’t think she would either, but the desire for honey was growing. Like she was a giant bear that hadn’t been fed in days. It tastes just as she imagined, sweet and citrusy. Still, waiting for the honey around his fingers to melt using the warmth of her mouth and tongue takes too long. She could be sitting idle with his fingers getting wet from saliva.
Jinshi is practically buzzing with electricity. Sweat drips from his brow, never has he seen her so bold. His previous attempts of getting closer with her would be swept away by her vicious glares or running to assist one of the concubines. He never would have been ready for her to open her jaw and envelope his fingers in her mouth. He can feel her tongue, slipping between the digits lapping up the taste. Maomao however looks unphased, focused entirely on his middle and index fingers that have intruded their way past her lips. She grabs his wrist, twisting it sideways to suck the honey off the side of his knuckles.
He thinks he’s seeing things. His brain is on overdrive from the heat on Maomao’s tongue while she sucks the remaining droplets off of his skin. It’s faint, but there’s the tiniest hint of pink on Maomao’s face that stretches across the plains of her face. He’s never seen her blush before, she’s always been straightforward, the only one to give him an icy glare whenever he flashed a smile.
He’s going to die by an apothecary, and she isn’t even using poison.
Honestly? This isn’t a bad way to go.
He’s in heaven. Eternally grateful that he’s been able to live through this moment with such a gorgeous girl. As wrong as it is, he even wants to thank Maomao’s kidnappers for bringing her, Fenming, for her abundant supply of honey. He’ll even thank Gaoshun for being deathly silent, staring out the window like it has all of the answers in the world. He might get a raise.
Sadly, the bliss has to come to an end. Maomao pulls his wrist away, and his fingers slip from her lips. They shine from her saliva, free from the previous golden honey from the tiny jar that sits patiently on the side table. A thin, translucent string of spit connects the tips of his fingers to her pink tinted lips. Her thumb rubs small shapes into the bones of his wrist, and Jinshi wishes that this moment can last forever.
“You were right, Master Jinshi,” She says, finally crystal blue eyes stare up at him. So close he can count the freckles that dot her face, “The honey truly has a wonderful taste.”
She took his voice. Every word that he wanted to utter has died out, sucked into the abyss. He simply stares down at her, gaping like a fish. Green fabric wipes his spit coated fingers, “I was hoping that there wouldn’t be so much saliva I produced. Apologies.”
“ ‘s fine,” he chokes on his voice, “Maom-”
“Master Jinshi! What in the world are you doing cornering my dear lady-in-waiting?!” He knows that voice. His head flicks to its owner, long locks nearly slapping Maomao in the face. Lady Gyokuyou’s brows are furrowed, disappointment painted on her beautiful features.
Well what is he supposed to say in this situation?
“Sorry I took so long! Your lady-in-waiting was actually sucking honey off my fingers so lewdly, that sooner or later she would’ve known I’m not an actual eunuch.”
Absolutely not.
“Sorry! I have to paperwork go to work go!” Jinshi spits out. His words don’t even make any sense. Jumbling together to make even the most skilled reader confused. Before Lady Gyokuyou can ask what the hell he means, Jinshi is sprinting with sticky fingers and no jar of honey in his hands. It isn’t long before Maomao is crowded once again, being bombarded with questions from each member of the Imperial Palace while Gaoshun quietly slipping out of the room.
“Master Jinshi-”
“Don’t.”
Gaoshun breathes a heavy sigh through his nose, “...Master Jinshi. Would you please open the door to your chambers.” Gaoshun had to sprint with all of his might in order to catch up to Jinshi, who had ran with all of his might to get back to his room in the inner palace.
Crickets chirp outside, singing their song of the night as Jinshi quietly pushes the door slightly ajar. Gaoshun finds him sulking like a petulant child, curling in on himself. Hugging his knees that are pushed up to his chest, his hair from his previous bath is slightly damp, completely loose as it falls over his shoulders, covering his face in a veil.
“Would you like to discuss the events of today?” Jinshi snorts at the humor of it all. They both know what happened today. His dear apothecary lapping up honey from his skin.
“No,” He pouts.
Another sigh from Gaoshun, Jinshi’s hair prevents him from fully seeing his guard, yet he knows Gaoshun’s look of disappointment by heart, “Is there something that is the matter, then?”
“Somedays,” he starts, mumbling into the fabric of his sleep clothes, “I wish I wasn’t posing as a eunuch.”
There’s a pause of silence. Maybe what Jinshi said was a bit personal. Jinshi is merely pretending to be a eunuch, drinking a disgusting drink that makes him appear as if he has nothing. It isn’t the same for Gaoshun.
“Did I say the wrong thing?” Jinshi peaks up, silently afraid of the menacing look that his guard could give him.
Gaoshun sighs once more, Jinshi is worrying that if he sighs so much he’ll run out of air, “Goodnight, Master Jinshi,” He says instead, refusing to answer his Master's question and slipping out of the room once more.
It was amusing to Maomao, watching Jinshi fumble with his words and drip with sweat. Her reward was delicious, the honey was as good as she imagined, as well as his reaction. She chuckles to herself, crushing her materials in order to make a proper clay for her freckles when the sun arises. But then she sees it, the blush that’s completely real, no makeup used that made her skin flush. She had never blushed before, her face flushed whenever she would get her hands on a new poison, or even was poisoned.
It was an odd feeling, but she would be lying if she said she would not be interested in experiencing this again.