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Chapter Text

Maomao wakes up the way ricin impacts a body; slowly, painfully, and with a great deal of nausea.  

As soon as she finally manages to claw her way to consciousness, she attempts to sit up to get her bearings, which turns out to be an awful idea.  The second her head rises from the pillow, her head begins to ache so forcefully that she lets out an unintentional groan and is forced to return to her previous horizontal position.  

This isn’t the first time she’s woken up confused and in pain though (a hazard of her hobby), and so she does what she always does in these moments, and tries to take stock of how every part of her body is feeling.

She can move her fingers and toes, which is good, and aside from the nausea and the pain in her head, the rest of her body seems to be unharmed.

This is the good news. 

The bad news is that this bed is definitely not her bed.

She attempts to shuffle through her muddled thoughts, trying to locate the last memory she has from before she woke up here, but before she can get very far, she hears a faint gasp.

“Oh thank the stars you’re awake! You’ve been lying here for ages , and I was scared you wouldn’t ever get up! You must be so scared.  What’s your name? Do you want a drink of water?”

The stranger’s voice is what finally helps Maomao open her eyes.  The ceiling, which is definitely not the one above her usual bed, is spinning, and the light pouring in from the window across the room is really not helping the dull pounding in her head.

With difficulty, she manages to turn just enough to see the girl standing above her with a worried expression on her face.  She’s a few years younger than Maomao, still just a child, really, and she’s anxiously jumping from foot to foot.

So, probably not the person who put her in this situation.

“Where-” Maomao starts, but the girl is apparently used to this line of questioning, and she has an answer before Maomao can even finish the sentence.

“You’re in the Imperial Palace! You got here two days ago!”

The Palace?

Everything clicks into place then, the way things often do in her head.  She frequently thinks of her mind as an endless series of puzzles, shuffling past each other at lightning fast speed, only stopping when she needs to access them.

The knowledge that she’s in the palace is the last piece she needed to complete the puzzle of her current situation, though she doesn’t love the final picture it reveals.

She’s an Apothecary’s daughter, though, and so before she dwells on that further, she needs to take care of her body.

“You mentioned water?” She croaks out, and the girl jumps a little.

“Oh! Yes, here you go!”

The girl helps prop Maomao up enough to drink the water she offers, and steps back once the cup is empty.

“Uh, you probably have a lot of questions, right?”

Maomao sighs.  “Not really,” she says flatly.  A perfunctory gaze around the room confirms her suspicions.  Twelve beds and a single window in one small room, plus the sounds of dozens of young girls’ chatter drifting from outside?

This is definitely the servant’s quarters.

“ Oh, Dad is going to kill me,” Maomao thinks.  He specifically warned her to be careful, specifically told her to be on the lookout for bandits, but, well….the leaves on the plant she discovered in that abandoned alleyway caught her attention, and maybe she fixated on it for a little too long.

So, she got herself kidnapped.

Oops.

What a pain.  She wonders how long her contract is.  She hopes it’s not more than a few years, as she has no desire to spend that much time away from her medicines.

“I’m Xiaolan, by the way!”

Oh, right.  She’d forgotten the girl was still standing there.

“My name is Maomao,” she says, “Sorry to meet you under these circumstances.”

For some reason, this makes Xiaolan laugh.  “You’re funny, Maomao!” she says, and her genuine smile lifts Maomao’s spirits a bit.

“Xiaolan,” Maomao says once the girl stops laughing, “Would you by any chance know where I could find some Willow Bark?”

Xiaolan’s brow furrows for a moment, before comprehension dawns on her face.  “Oh! Right! Your head must hurt really bad, I know the girl who got here before you needed some of that, too! Let me go see if I can find it! Be right back!”

With that, Xiaolan is gone, and Maomao is alone.

She sighs again.  This was not on her list of plans for the week, and she’s honestly annoyed that this fiasco messed up her schedule.

Sure, she’s scared and sad, but she’d unfortunately prepared herself for this long ago.  Every girl in her town knew this was a possibility, and so, every girl in her town also prepared their hearts in advance, just in case.

She sits in silence for a while, trying to absorb the fact that this will be her new life from now on.  It’s one thing to prepare, but entirely another to be in the actual situation.

She hopes her Dad is okay.

Her headache is easing a bit, even without the Willow Bark, and she lifts her hands to rub her temples.

As she does so, a flash of red passes through her field of vision, which is curious, because she’s certain there is no red on any part of her wardrobe.

She lets go of her head and inspects her hands for any possible blood.

What she finds is far, far worse.

A single, fragile piece of thread is looped around her left ring finger.  The thread is about a foot long, and she stares at it in horror as it flutters in the breeze from the window.

This has to be a joke.

Maybe this is something the other servants do to newbies, like a hazing ritual.

Maomao pauses.  

There’s only one way to find out if this is real.  She listens for footsteps, but Xiaolan hasn’t reappeared yet, and so she decides to take this opportunity to perform her experiment.

With shaking hands, she manages to untie the thread from her finger.  It’s so thin it looks like anything could snap it in an instant, but it feels much sturdier in her hands than it should.

Not a good sign.

Thread in hand, Maomao gets out of bed with difficulty and shuffles across the room.  Once she gets as far from her bed as possible, she carefully places the thread on the floor.

She takes a deep breath.  Here goes nothing.

Keeping her eyes on the string, she takes one step backwards.

So far, so good.

Tentatively, she takes one more step.  And another.  And another.

She’s almost back to the bed and has begun to preemptively celebrate the fact that the thread is fake, when she takes one final step.

And then it happens.

Maomao’s heart begins to ache, and it’s not only in a metaphoric sense.  She swears she can actually feel a piece of her heart break off, and, even with her ridiculously high pain tolerance, it’s almost more than she can bear.

She hastily throws herself across the room and grabs the thread, her heart only returning to normal once it’s safely on her person.  

When Xiaolan returns, it’s to find Maomao sitting on the floor in the far corner of the room, her hand over her eyes.

She’s been at the palace long enough now that she’s used to girls crying during the beginning of their time here, and so she isn’t surprised to find that Maomao is grieving.

But when the girl hears her walk in and looks up, there are no tears in her eyes.  Instead, she looks annoyed, and when she opens her mouth, Xiaolan is shocked that her voice is devoid of terror or sadness.

Instead, when she speaks, it’s with the casual air of someone asking for the weather.

But instead of inquiring as to whether or not the sky is cloudy, what comes out of Maomao’s mouth is one single sentence.

“Xiaolan, Would you please do me a favor and fucking kill me?”

Chapter Text

In Jinshi’s nightmare, he’s being eaten by cannibals.  

Or, more accurately, he’s being prepared to be eaten by cannibals.

He’s tied down to a stone table, and whatever ropes they’re using to keep his wrists and ankles in one place is strong, because he can’t move no matter how hard he struggles.

The men surrounding him aren’t speaking any human language that Jinshi knows of, but the various knives scattered around the room, as well as the large pot of boiling water and the way the men are looming over him, tells him all he needs to know.

He’s far too pretty to die in such an undignified way.

He starts to say so, but before he can, the man closest to him moves quicker than lightning, raising his knife high in the air and bringing it down decisively to land squarely in Jinshi’s chest.

Jinshi wakes up in a cold sweat, but waking up doesn’t make the pain in his heart go away.  It’s so intense that he begins to shake uncontrollably, and he’s about to call for Gaoshun, but it’s over as quickly as it began.

Huh.

He absently massages his chest, right above his heart.  He’s never felt pain quite that piercing, or that fleeting, for that matter.  

Is he sick? 

He looks down, and when his eyes land on the hand massaging his chest, they nearly bulge out of his skull.

Abruptly, he throws his blankets to the side and inspects the thread on his ring finger, analyzing it from every angle, like that will make it make sense.  He tugs on it experimentally and is surprised to find that it’s far sturdier than it looks.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s running to the bookcase in the back of his room, stumbling over his own feet because he refuses to look up from the string on his finger as he goes.

Once he gets there he considers his options.

One, he can peruse his large collection of romance novels.  Even though this would be fun though, he thinks that, right now, he needs something a little more…scientific.

So he turns his attention to his favorite book of childhood fairy tales.

Flipping through the pages, he lands on the story that had always been his favorite, smiling at the beautifully decorated illustrations until he finds the one he’s looking for.

He puts his left hand up against the paper to compare, and then nearly drops the book.

Because the string on his finger is an exact replica of the one in the picture in his book.  The one from the story about a prince finding his soulmate.

Gaushun had always hated this story, Jinshi remembers.  “ Soulmates aren’t a concept to wish for, Jinshi,” he can practically hear him say now, “ Being told who to be with instead of choosing for yourself? What kind of thing is that?”

A romantic kind of thing! That’s what kind of thing! 

He waves his hand around a couple of times, causing the string to whip violently back and forth, and barely suppresses an excited giggle.

Despite Gaoshun’s disdain for the concept of soulmates though, even he needs to admit that it does have basis in facts.  Jinshi’s heart thumps wildly as he scans his shelves for the final book, which is, honestly, more of a tiny pamphlet.

He unfolds the pages slowly, unwilling to rip it in spite of his excitement.  If this is real, then he needs to make absolutely sure, and he can’t mess this up.

Once the pamphlet is open, his eyes pore hungrily over the words on the page.

The concept of soulmates, while considered by some to be simply a flight of fancy, has always had deep roots in history.

Years ago, soulmates were common, with one out of every four people reporting a String Appearance at some point in their lives.  Unfortunately, this began to occur far less frequently, and now it’s expected that only a few people in every generation will be lucky enough to encounter a String of their own.

Jinshi’s read this page so many times over the course of his life that he can practically recite it by heart.  None of this information is secret.  Everyone knows that Soul Strings exist, but because they’re so rare they’re considered to be a bit of an urban legend.  

Jinshi has dreamed about having a soulmate for as long as he’s been able to dream.  The idea of having someone who is guaranteed to love him sounds like such a great comfort, and he giddily ignores the list of facts and rules on the next page, only stopping when he hits the last sentence, which hits him like a parade of running bulls.

-You must stay within ten feet of your soul string. Otherwise, you’ll feel like your heart is breaking, literally and metaphorically.  Your soulmate will feel the same.

Like your heart is breaking?

Jinshi recalls the uncanny feeling he’d woken up to, like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, and all excitement leaves him abruptly, replaced by a familiar feeling of cold aching.

So his soulmate discovered their String…and immediately tried to get rid of it?

He tries not to take this personally.  It’s not like they saw him specifically and decided they didn’t like him.  Maybe they were just shocked.  Maybe they just weren’t sure what to do.

But he can’t help the feeling of rejection coursing through him.  When he’d seen his String for the first time, all he wanted to do was meet his soulmate immediately.  But his soulmate, apparently, did not feel the same.  

Maybe this isn’t going to be as simple as he had expected.

He flicks at the string on his finger and smiles gently at it.  Regardless of anything else, he has a soulmate .  Someone is going to love him.  Someone is going to want him.

(Someone aside from all the people who already want him, of course.  They don’t count. How could they, when they have no idea who he really is?)

He gets dressed slowly, still gazing at his hand, but pauses when he’s ready to leave.

He’d always expected to show off his String, if he ever got one.

Not that anyone but his soulmate could see it of course, but he had always been adamant that he would leave it in a place where it couldn’t be missed.  That way, if he came across his soulmate, they would recognize him immediately.  

Cue falling in love and getting married and growing old together etc etc

But then he remembers the pain in his chest.  The fact that his soulmate’s first instinct had been to get away from the String.  

Wordlessly, he unties the string and puts it in his pocket.

Maybe it would be best for him to do some reconnaissance first.  He’ll feel more in control if he sees his soulmate’s String before they see his.

Not that he expects to see his soulmate anytime soon.

It famously takes years for soulmates to find each other, and besides, if his soulmate wants nothing to do with it right now, there’s no way they’ll be keeping it somewhere he can see it.

He can wait.  He’s willing to wait.

As it turns out though, he doesn’t have to, because as soon as he enters the courtyard, he nearly runs her over.

He doesn’t notice the String at first.  

He reaches out a hand to help the servant girl he’s just knocked down, apologizing profusely.

“It’s no problem,” she says, taking his hand and brushing the dirt off her dress as soon as she stands.  “Oh….”

She stares at him for a second when she sees his face, and Jinshi expects her to go red and start giggling, because that’s what they all do, but her gaze is more calculating than anything, and he actually finds himself squirming a bit as she stares him down.

“You’re a high ranking official,” is all she says, clearly gleaning this from his robes and appearance, “My apologies.”

He’s about to tell her there’s no need, when she bows to him.

And there it is.

The Soul String, tied around the bun in her hair like a ribbon.

It dances in front of Jinshi’s eyes, and he finds himself frozen to the spot as the girl stands up straight and then waves goodbye.  

“Wh-where are you going?” Jinshi stammers, and the girl turns around with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh, I just got here, so I’m headed to get my orders.  Is there something I can do for you?”

Is there something she can do?????

Jinshi is speechless as he eyes his apparent soulmate.  She’s tiny, at least a head shorter than him, and at first glance she isn’t much to look at.  But there’s a fire in her eyes that makes him think that there’s more to her than it seems, and the smattering of freckles across her nose is….very cute.

He finds himself blushing.  He wants to say something.  He wants to pull out his String and show her.  He wants to ask her endless questions.  

But he’s struck dumb by the mere fact of her existence, and a part of him can’t help but remember that she tried to get away from her String.

She’s watching him with a bored expression on her face, which he’s definitely not used to seeing.  Usually people fall all over themselves trying to get to know him.

Who is this girl?

“Um, Master…”

“Jinshi,” he squeaks out, “My name is Jinshi.”

“Okay.  So. Can I go now?”

Go? 

GO?

No, you can’t go!

But despite the screaming in his brain, he nods.  She bows again and whirls around, and Jinshi watches his soulmate, the person he’s waited for his whole life, walk away from him for the first time.

“Wait!” he calls, and she stops again, annoyance clear in the set of her shoulders.

“Yes?”

“What…what is your name?”

She looks over her shoulder, and the String flutters in front of her face in the wind.  She frowns at it imperceptibly, and Jinshi’s heart sinks.  But then she answers him, and he finds himself able to breathe again.

“Maomao,” she says politely.

This time, when she tries to walk away, he doesn’t follow her.

He thinks he needs to lie down.

Chapter Text

Jinshi throws himself down onto his bed, landing face first in an extremely undignified pose.

He has so much to do today, but it’s going to have to wait, because he just met his soulmate .

Things he knows about his soulmate:

-Her name is Maomao

-She’s a servant girl

-She’s kind of cute

-She seems to want nothing to do with him

Jinshi groans into his pillow. How could she not fall in love with him at first sight? 

Come to think of it, how could he not fall in love with her at first sight?

He sits up abruptly, this realization hitting him with the force of a wrecking ball.  He’s not in love with her.  Like, at all.

Sure, he wants to get to know her better, and he loves the idea of her, but….

He pictures her face, and his heart thumps feebly, like it’s trying its best, but can’t get itself to really get excited.  

Maomao is cute, in a plain way, and he’s fascinated by the fact that she doesn’t seem to be obsessed with his looks like everyone else is (fascinated, and a little hurt), but she was blunt with him and she even seemed annoyed.  Like he was bothering her.

Jinshi huffs.

So many girls in the palace, and his soulmate has to be the one who doesn’t give a shit about him?

He stalks to the bookshelf again, hoping for clarity.  But when he opens the pamphlet, what he sees just pisses him off even more. He glares at the rules he’d ignored earlier, like they’re the reason he’s going through this.

Your String Appearance is random.  However, both partners always get their strings at the exact same time.

This means that Maomao had only just gotten her String when they met, just like he had.  Yet she’d seemed completely unruffled, like nothing had happened at all.

Your String can only be broken by your soulmate.

Jinshi goes cold, and all thoughts of showing Maomao his String go out the window.  If she saw it now, surely she’d cut it. She’d initially thrown it away, after all, and what is that if not a rejection?

He moves on to the only other rule that he cares about right now.

While it’s true that one’s soulmate is the person they are fated to be with, nothing is guaranteed.  Circumstances change, and so do feelings.  Unless one meets their soulmate at the correct time, they will not meet the right version of their soulmate.  

What the fuck?

Jinshi hadn’t studied this pamphlet nearly as much as he’d studied his novels and children’s tales, and he’s always assumed that soulmates were not only a “love at first sight” situation, but also that they were a guarantee.  

He’s always clung to the idea that, if he was lucky enough to get a soulmate, they would want him and accept him immediately and wholeheartedly.  That he’d be so tied to them that neither of them would even have to think about it. 

That their love would come naturally, because they were always meant to be.

That his soulmate wouldn’t be able to throw him away.

But now this stupid pamphlet is telling him that nothing is certain? That Maomao can just decide she doesn’t even like him, let alone love him, and cut his String like that???  

What the fuck is even the point of them being soulmates, then??? 

He flips the paper over, desperate for any glimmer of hope, and one single line catches his eye.

While no soulmate pair is ever guaranteed, if they do indeed meet at the right time, proximity will inevitably speed up the romantic process.

Jinshi swallows the lump in his throat.  If this isn’t the right time, then nothing will save him.

But if it is….

He rereads the last part of the sentence.

-proximity will inevitably speed up the romantic process.

He taps a finger against his thigh anxiously, pondering his next steps, before decisively twirling around and walking out the door once more.

He has a request to make.

~

By the time Maomao makes it to the Head Office, she’s already nearly forgotten about both her String and her encounter with the beautiful eunuch.  

She’d gotten lost on the way here, and it took about a half hour for her to finally make it to her destination.  When she arrives, she’s sweaty and irritable, but she tries not to let that show on her face.  If she wants to go home eventually, then she needs to behave as much as possible.

She takes a deep breath and steps through the door.

Waiting for her behind a wooden desk is an elegant man in blue robes.  He smiles at her when he sees her, and his eyes are kind.  She can’t help but feel a little more relaxed.

“You must be Maomao,” he says.

She gives a curt nod.  “I was informed to come here to receive my orders.  Apologies for being late, I had trouble finding my way.”

The man waves her excuses off.  “It’s no problem,” he says, "it's a big palace, it’s easy to get lost.”  He shuffles a stack of papers in his hands and asks “Maomao, can you read or write?”

“I can do both,” she confirms. If the man is surprised, he doesn’t show it.  

“Excellent.”

He hands her the papers.  There’s at least a dozen of them, and there are quite a few words on the top page.

“Please fill this out,” the man says to her, subsequently handing her a quill and a pot of ink, “You can use that table over there.”

He points to a small square table a few feet away, which looks a lot like a desk for a student.

She nods at him and starts to walk towards the desk, but then remembers the first question she wanted to ask.

“May I be so bold as to ask a question?”

The man’s mouth quirks up a bit at the corner.  “Of course.”

“How long is my tenure here?”

The man hums and moves files around on the desk, searching for one.  “Sorry,” he says as he does so, “This isn’t actually my department, so I have no idea where anything  is. One moment.”

Maomao quirks an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t say anything as he looks.  After a few moments, he finds what he’s looking for and scans it briefly.

“It looks like you’re with us for three years.”

Maomao sighs inwardly.  It’s not as long as it can be, but that’s still quite a bit of time.  Hopefully  she can get a message to her father at some point.

Well, no use worrying about it now.

She thanks the man and heads to the desk with her paper and quill.

She assumes this is paperwork for her to fill out, and so that’s why she’s surprised when she sees what’s actually on the page.

She blinks at the words, and then steals a glance at the man.

“Is there a problem?” He asks pleasantly. 

‘Um. No.”

She returns her attention to the first few sentences of what is obviously a questionnaire.

1. How old are you?
2. Where are you from?
3. Do you have any siblings?

Why does this seem less like paperwork and more like questions one would ask in pleasant conversation?

She glances at the man again, but he’s sitting behind the desk reading a book. 

Something is going on here, but she’s in no place to ask more questions, so she settles in and begins to fill up the page.

25) What do you look for in a partner?

Is this really necessary for her to get started here? Do all the girls go through this process?

Well, whatever.  She might as well be honest, and so she answers as best as she can.

An hour and one hundred and twenty questions later, she stands up, her hand stiff from writing so much.

She shakes it out as she heads back to the desk where the man has been waiting quietly.

“All done?” He asks, giving no indication that he realizes the questions are bizarre.

“Uh. Yes?”

She says this like a question, but he nods and accepts the papers when she offers them up.  

“Excellent.  You start tomorrow.”

“Alright,” she says, but when he doesn’t give any further information, she prods. “Where?”

The man gets up to leave but as he walks away he answers over his shoulder.  “You’ll be working for Master Jinshi.  Please arrive at eight.”

Wait, what?

“I’m sorry, excuse me, uh-”

“Gaushun.”

“Gaushun-sama, I was under the impression that I’d be working as a servant.”

He shrugs, like he has no control over the situation. “You were requested,” is all he says before disappearing out the door.

Maomao stands alone in the office, a headache building in her temples once again.

First she’s kidnapped, then she finds out she has a soulmate, and then she has to fill out …whatever that was.

And now she’s been requested to work for a man she doesn’t even know?

Although she’d only met him for a few seconds, she tries to remember anything about Master Jinshi, but it’s no use.  Not only does she know nothing about him, but she can’t even picture his face.

All she remembers is that he was overwhelmingly pretty.

What a man like that wants from her, she has no idea.

She has a feeling things are about to get a lot more complicated, and she absentmindedly twirls her String around her finger.

Finally, she sighs.  Weirder things have happened.

For now, she might as well find some food and then get some rest.  This is the beginning of her new life, after all, and she needs to be ready for it.

She begins to head back to the servant’s quarters, trying to remember exactly which way she went. After a few minutes she finally finds herself in the courtyard she’d been in earlier, and this is what finally triggers her memory.

She can suddenly see Master Jinshi in her head with incredible clarity.  She isn’t sure why, but as soon as she pictures him she gets the urge to study him, like he’s an interesting bug.

Which is incredibly disrespectful, but the point stands.  After some thought, she realizes that something about him really does intrigue her.

She wants to know more.

Well, she supposes she’ll have the chance to do that tomorrow, won’t she?  For now, all she can do is go back to her new home and wait.

There’s only so much weirdness she can take at once, and she’s hit her daily quota.  Surely tomorrow will be far more normal than today has been.

Surely.

Chapter Text

Master Jinshi has been positively glaring at Maomao for the last five minutes.  

She’d walked into the office and bowed, just as she was supposed to, but when she looked up, the look on his face was one akin to someone smelling sulfur for the first time.

She doesn’t say anything, expecting him to begin.

He doesn’t.

The silence stretches on, and every minute that passes cements Maomao’s hunch that Master Jinshi hates her for some reason.  Is it because she’d bumped into him yesterday? He hadn’t seemed upset then, so why is he so upset now? More importantly, why had he requested her to work for him?

She stares impassively at him regardless.  She’s not going to break the silence.  After all, it isn’t her place, and even if it was, she’s also kind of miffed that he’s doing this to her.  She was just kidnapped yesterday, so how did she manage to anger this guy already?

Finally, he sighs loudly and dramatically and slumps back in his chair.  Gaushun, standing behind him, hides a smile behind his hand.

The first thing Master Jinshi says to her is “Is this true?”

Maomao blinks at him.  “Is what true?” she asks, because he hasn’t given her any idea whatsoever what the hell he’s talking about.

He holds up the stack of papers that she’d filled out yesterday.  “Your answers to these questions.  Are they true?”

“Um. Yes?”

Why is he questioning her integrity now? She likes this man less and less by the second.

Master Jinshi shuffles the papers and holds one up in front of his face.  “Question twenty five: What do you look for in a partner?”

He lowers the paper just enough for him to eye her over it.

“You wrote, and I quote, ‘I don’t’.”

“That is correct.”

His right eye twitches.  “What does that even mean?” he asks, desperation lacing his tone for reasons Maomao doesn’t understand.

It’s a pretty personal question for a stranger, let alone her employer, to ask, but whatever.  She doesn’t really have much to lose here.

“It means I’m not currently searching for a partner.”

“Okay, fine,” Jinshi says hurriedly, “But if you were ….what traits would you want them to have?”

“Haven’t thought about it.”

“You haven’t- what????”

Maomao raises an eyebrow.  “It’s not at the forefront of my mind, to be honest.  I’ve had more important things to focus on.”

Jinshi regards her for a second, his mouth hanging open slightly, but then manages to compose himself.

“Okay, fine, let’s leave that alone for a minute,” he says, in a tone that indicates that he very  much does not want to leave it alone for a minute, “What about question six? I asked what your hobbies are, and you said ‘poisons’.  How is that a hobby????”

A small spark ignites in Maomao’s chest.  She needs to be careful not to say something wrong here, but also, it’s an opportunity to talk about her passion, so….

“My father is an apothecary,” she explains slowly, “So I grew up learning about various medicines.  I’ve become quite proficient at recognizing poisons, as well as the effect they have on the human body.”

Her arm itches under the bandages, but she resists the urge to scratch it.  He doesn’t need to know about her experiments right now.  

For the first time, Master Jinshi doesn’t look angry.  His face is a mixture of confused and intrigued.  “Hmm.  Your face lights up when you talk about that,” he notes, and then immediately catches himself, like he hadn’t meant to say that.  If Maomao didn’t know any better, she’d think he’s blushing.  “I mean, that’s a bizarre hobby.  But…it is admirable that you’re so knowledgeable at your age.  You’d be wasted as a general servant girl.”

Maomao stands up a little taller.  Not many people have praised her for what she does.  Nobody back home was ever really interested in hearing about it.  To mention it and not immediately be waved off…it feels kind of…nice.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, a strange feeling in her chest.  

He nods, and silence settles over the room again.

After a beat, Master Jinshi speaks again.  “There is a storage room a few doors down.  I’ve been meaning to start using it for something, and the season for general illnesses is coming up.”

Maomao waits, wondering where he’s going with this.

Master Jinshi watches her, a look in his eye that Maomao can’t quite decipher.

“Are you confident in your abilities as an apothecary?”  He asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.” He rings a bell on his desk Maomao hadn’t noticed before, and a servant emerges from  a back room.

“Please take the Apothecary to the storage room.”  He addresses Maomao once again.  “There’s only one doctor here, and between you and me, he’s…a bit of a problem child.  If your skills really are what you say they are, you could be incredibly helpful.”

Maomao can’t believe what she’s hearing.  He wants her to practice medicine here?

“This is pending an evaluation, of course,” Master Jinshi adds, “Tonight I will test you, and if you pass, you’ve got the job.”

Maomao doesn’t even know what to say.  How did this all happen so quickly? The servant nods at her and begins leaving the room, motioning for Maomao to follow.

“I-thank you,” Maomao says to Master Jinshi sincerely, before bowing to him and practically skipping out of the room.  Only her second day, and she’s got a better job than she had before.  She’ll have to ask about the pay.  And there’s also the matter of her test tonight, but she doubts that will be much of a problem.

She’s so pleased that she doesn’t even bother to think about how strange the circumstances are.  She’s here now, and that’s what matters.

~
As soon as Maomao leaves the room, Jinshi lets out a groan and lets his head fall to the desk with a thump.

“What am I doing ,” he asks the room at large.  It’s a hypothetical question, but Gaoshun answers regardless.

“It looks like you gave a random servant girl a job you made up on the spot,” he observes.  Jinshi doesn’t even look up.  What Gaoshun says is absolutely true, but what he doesn’t know is why Jinshi is doing what he’s doing.

Of course, Jinshi considered telling him.  He tells Gaoshun a lot of things, more than he tells most people, but for some reason Jinshi simply cannot get himself to tell him about his String.

Maybe it’s Gaoshun’s derision for the concept of soulmates, or maybe it’s the fact that Jinshi wants this to be entirely between himself and Maomao.  It wouldn’t be fair to her to tell someone about it before telling his own soulmate, after all.

He presses his cheek to the cool surface of the desk.  He really is floundering in the dark here.  The plan was this: find out as much as he could about his soulmate, and then have her work in his home.

That’s it.  That’s the entirety of the plan.

He just needs her to be close.  He just needs to get to know her, to learn more about her, to become someone she could potentially love.

He raises his head and sullenly picks up the paper he’d been holding before.

What do you look for in a partner?

I don’t.

What did she mean by that? The way she’d explained it it hadn’t sounded like she’s discounting the idea entirely, but this is going to be a lot more difficult if she isn’t even interested in being with anyone.

Jinshi wants to be with someone so badly that it hurts.

And now he’s learned that his soulmate couldn’t care less.

Also, she’s kind of weird .  Who lists off poisons as a hobby? Who gets that excited talking about something like that?

He remembers how her eyes sparkled when he asked about it though, and his face heats up a bit.  

And now he has to come up with some sort of “test” to determine if she can become a true apothecary.  He has absolutely no idea what level of skill she’s reached, and he honestly doesn’t know what he’s going to do if she fails.  Something about the way she talked, though,  makes him think that she’s going to be good at it.

It’s all based on a feeling, of course.  

But then again, so is love, isn’t it?

~

As it turns out, Jinshi had no reason to worry.

He sits in his chair, shock clear on his face.

Maomao sits across from him, her own expression blank.  “Did I pass?” she asks.

Did she pass?

Not only had she put together an ointment for warts in less than five minutes, not only did she correctly recognize and label the seven mild toxins he’d procured, but she’d also noticed a spot of mold in the corner of Jinshi’s windowsill that nobody else had, identified it as something that could potentially become dangerous, and removed it immediately.

Maomao isn’t just good at this.  She’s a goddamn prodigy.

She’s brilliant.  He’d originally asked her to work for him because he wanted to be closer to her, but now he’s accidentally stumbled upon the best apothecary he’s ever met.

Maybe she really could help people.

He clears his throat and says stiffly “Yes, your performance was adequate.”

The corner of Maomao’s mouth twitches, like she knows he knows she’s great at this, but she just inclines her head.  “Thank you,” she says.

Jinshi nods, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden.  “Starting tomorrow, you will begin to transform the storage room into a workspace for yourself.  I can get any products you need, and, once you’re ready, we will start the trial process before you accept actual patients.”

Maomao’s head snaps up at this, and that fire in her eyes is back.  Pure excitement shines on her face, and Jinshi is momentarily struck dumb.  

“Any products I need?” She asks, “Really?”

Jinshi nods again, and Maomao smiles at him for the first time.

He thinks his heart might explode out of his chest.  Her smile transforms her entire face into a work of art.  He’s suddenly certain that he would give her anything she ever wanted, as long as it means that she’ll give him that smile again.

He can’t reasonably be normal around this girl.  At least, not right now.

“Gaoshun will show you to your quarters,” he says faintly, waving towards the door.  He can’t get any other words out of his mouth right this second.

Gaoshun gives him a curious look as he herds Maomao, who is muttering lightly to herself, out of the room, but Jinshi pays him no mind.

Proximity will inevitably speed up the romantic process.

That book wasn’t kidding.  He feels like he got hit in the chest with a brick.  

If this is how he feels after one day with her, how long will it be before he actually falls for her?

More importantly, is she feeling the same things he is? He doubts it.  Her expressions are hard to read, but she’d very clearly been far more interested in the idea of medicinal products than she had in the idea of Jinshi.

He tries not to be too disappointed, but it doesn’t feel very fair.  Why does he have to feel this way already if there’s absolutely zero reciprocation? 

He briefly considers showing her his String to help it all along, but he immediately shoots that idea down.  She doesn’t know what she’s looking for in a partner.  She doesn’t even really want a partner.  If he shows her right now, she’d probably reject him, and his heart just can’t take that right now.

All he can do is continue to get to know her and hope that his charm wins her over.  It’s never failed him before, but Maomao is different, and it won’t be as easy as simply shooting her a wink.  

She’s smart, and she’s passionate, and she doesn’t appear to give two shits about his appearance, let alone his charm.

He does quite like a challenge, but this one feels like the rest of his life is reliant on the outcome.  

Oh well.  So she’s not falling all over him on day one.  That’s fine.  There’s plenty of time.  A small voice asks him what he would do if, after all this, she doesn’t want to be with anyone, let alone him.

In the past, he would have expected the answer to be “just keep trying”.  But now that he knows her even a little bit, he would never want to force her into a relationship.  He wants to give her everything, and if that means letting her go, then that’s what he’ll do.

Hopefully it won’t come to that though.

He spends the rest of the night daydreaming about what Maomao would look like in a wedding dress.  He’s not getting ahead of himself of course.  Not at all.  He’s just dreaming, okay?

He’s so normal and chill about this entire situation.

He goes to sleep that night with his heart pounding loudly in his ears, and Maomao’s smile is the last thing he sees in his mind before he finally drifts off.

Chapter Text

It’s been three days since Maomao started her new job, and she’s starting to think her boss hates her.

He’s only spoken a handful of words to her since he sent her to her room that first night, which would be fine by her, except for the fact that he is still very much making his presence known.

Firstly, there’s the hovering.

Maomao isn’t quite sure what exactly Master Jinshi does.  Gaushun explained that he’s in charge of the eunuchs, but didn’t give much more information than that.  It appears to involve paperwork, and every so often Jinshi disappears to “do his rounds” at the Rear Palace,  whatever that means. 

Whatever it is he does though, he seems to have a lot of free time on his hands regardless, because he’s always around.

At first, Maomao thought he was observing her progress with the storage room.  The first time it happened, she had been dusting every surface she could find, since it was clear the place hadn’t been used in awhile, when she saw Master Jinshi out of the corner of her eye.

He was peering around the doorframe like a shy child, and when she turned to bow to him, he jumped about two feet into the air.

“Master Jinshi,” she’d said politely, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“For me? Why, uh- why would you need to do something for me?”

Maomao had raised an eyebrow, trying not to let her annoyance show on her face.  “Because I work for you?” she’d said, ending the sentence like a question.

For some reason, that appeared to bother her boss.  He narrowed his eyes at her.  “I guess you do,” he’d said, turning his nose in the air like he’d just remembered his position in the palace.

He stood there for a while, posed in the doorway like he was doing it on purpose, until finally Maomao couldn’t take it anymore.

“Is there something you want?” She’d asked, probably a little too bluntly.  This caused him to  sigh dramatically, and Maomao couldn’t help but roll her eyes.  A look flashed across Master Jinshi’s face that Maomao couldn’t interpret, and then he said “I guess not.”

And then, before Maomao could even begin to understand this confusing conversation, he’d swirled around and disappeared.

She stared at the doorway for a moment, wondering if she should bother to try to decipher whatever that was.  She eventually decided that it was none of her business, and also that she didn’t care.

She’d gone back to dusting.

The first letter arrived later that night.

Maomao had returned to her new room, wiping sweat off her brow, and almost missed the piece of paper taped to her door.

Curious, she’d leaned in for a closer look. It was on official, good quality paper, with a seal and everything.  She looked both ways down the hallway, but didn’t see anyone, so she took the  note and disappeared into her room.

As she sat on her bed, she opened the letter, wondering who it was from.

That mystery was answered immediately.

Why did you roll your eyes at me today? I thought I was your boss.  Not very respectful, if you ask me.

Maomao blinked at the page.  Was he serious? Had Master Jinshi actually taken the time to write her this official note, wasting precious resources, only to admonish her? And rather childishly, too.

Why hadn’t he called her into his office? Did he expect her to write him back?

She’d rested her hand on her chin, eyes narrow.

What to do, what to do?

~

Two days have passed since then, and she still hasn’t responded. She simply has no idea how she’s supposed to, to be quite honest.

But of course, Master Jinshi won’t let her get away with that.

He shows up while Maomao is cleaning yet again, this time leaning regally against the door frame.

“Why haven’t you answered my letter?”

Maomao looks up from the table she’s been scrubbing and gives him her honest answer.

“I didn’t know if I was supposed to.”

At this, Master Jinshi pouts.  He actually pouts.  It’s ridiculous, and although the gesture is adorable, it’s still a stupid thing for a grown man to do.

“Well generally, when someone sends you a letter, you’re supposed to answer it.”

Maomao knows she’s good at keeping a stoic face, but sometimes Master Jinshi makes it so difficult not to scoff or frown.

“My apologies,” she says blankly, bowing formally again, “I’ll get to that as soon as possible, since it appears to be extremely important.”

If Master Jinshi recognizes the sarcasm in her tone, he doesn’t say anything.  “Thank you,” he answers instead, throwing his hair back over his shoulder.  She can almost imagine sparkles emerging from his every pore. 

“I expect a detailed response post haste.”

Maomao holds up a hand.  “I can get that to you now, actually.” She fishes around in the desk drawer for a paper and a quill.  She can practically hear Master Jinshi perk up behind her like a puppy.

Once she gets her materials, she pointedly blocks Master Jinshi’s view as she writes, despite his best efforts to look over her shoulder.

After about ten seconds, she throws the quill down with a flourish.

“Here, Master Jinshi,” she says, presenting the paper to him with both hands, head bowed, “I thought very hard about what I was going to say.  I hope it’s to your standard.”

Her boss flashes her a dazzling smile, and she’s momentarily blinded.  His teeth are damn near perfect, and his grin is the same.

It’s infuriating.

He delicately takes the paper from her hands and looks down to read it.

Maomao tries very hard to hide her smile behind her sleeve as his expression sours.

He looks back up, and his grin is gone, which is kind of a shame, honestly.

“What is this?” He asks indignantly.

“My answer to your letter,” Maomao says, feigning innocence.

Master Jinshi humphs.  “ My apologies,” he reads aloud, “ I didn’t realize you saw me do that.  I’ll try to hide it better next time.”

Maomao bites her lip, forcing her laughter to remain in her chest where it belongs.  This man doesn’t need to know that she’s actually having a little fun.

“That is incredibly disrespectful,” Master Jinshi says haughtily, and Maomao’s heart sinks a little.  Had she read things wrong? She was just joking around, but now that she thinks about it, this man is her boss.  No matter how strong her urge to mess with him is, he’s correct. It’s inappropriate.

She starts to say so, but when she studies his face, he doesn’t actually look mad.  In fact, his eyes are sparkling with mirth.

She’s never seen anyone with such an unbridled, open face.  

He’s confusing, and all over the place, and sometimes it seems like he doesn’t like her. And she still doesn’t know why he requested her.

But as she watches his eyes light up, she thinks that maybe this isn’t so bad.  Maybe this could actually be fairly interesting.

She’s never been curious about anyone before.  It’s much easier to go through life unaffected by such things.  Sure, she cares about her family, but stranger’s lives in particular don’t usually interest her.

But something about this man intrigues her in a way that both confuses and bothers her. It’s like her world has tilted on its axis by just a couple of centimeters; not enough to fully affect her, but definitely enough for her to notice. 

It’s a strange feeling.  She’s not sure if she likes it or hates it. 

She’s also not sure how she feels about the fact that she has a tiny urge to know more about him.

A little overwhelmed, she spins around and hastily begins to continue scrubbing the desk.  This isn’t something she needs to think about, actually.  Ever.

Master Jinshi seems to take the hint that she doesn’t want to continue the conversation, because he turns to leave.

As he does though, he throws a few final words over his shoulder.

“Expect my response promptly.”

And then he’s gone.

She sits down heavily at her desk as soon as he disappears, discomfort weighing on her heart.

It’s not unlike the feeling she’d had that first day, when she’d tried to get rid of her String.

Maomao reaches back and pulls the String from her hair, eyeing it ruefully. She didn’t need the reminder that it existed, but now that it’s in her head, she can’t stop thinking about it.  

She sighs and drops her head to the table, String still clutched tightly in her fingers.  

How has everything changed so quickly in less than a week?  Her life had been so certain back home.  So sure.  She knew who she was and what she was capable of, and she knew what the rest of her life would look like.

But now?

For some reason, Master Jinshi’s face comes to mind, and with it, a low simmer of annoyance.

Something about her Master throws her off, and for the first time since arriving at the Palace, she starts to feel an inkling of fear.

She doesn’t think he’s a threat at all, nor does he appear to harbor any ill intent towards her.  

But he’s….

She groans.  It’s rare she finds herself at a loss for words, but right now the puzzle in her brain feels all messed up, like there aren’t even any corners to give her hints.  She despises not knowing, not understanding.  She’s smart, and she knows that well enough, so why is it that she  feels so lost right now?

She hates this.

She hates this.

She drums her fingers on the desk without raising her head.

She has quite a lot to think about.

Chapter Text

The letters become increasingly more common.

After ruminating for an hour about whatever weirdness it is she’s feeling, Maomao had finally given up on her work space for the day.  There was no use trying when her brain was so muddled.

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised to find another note taped to her door.

This time, she simply accepts her fate.  She takes the note into her room and reads Master Jinshi’s response.

Do you make a habit out of acting so distrustful around strangers?

Oh, huh.

This one actually makes her think.  

The answer, obviously, is yes, but it’s interesting that her boss picked up on that so quickly.  She doesn’t have to worry over her answer for long this time.  She figures she might as well be as honest as she can be, while also toeing the line between friendly and professional.

It’s a difficult line to tread, but he’d started it, so she doesn’t really have a choice, does she?

She puts her brush to the paper.

Only a fool would trust a stranger where I come from.

It sits uncomfortably on her desk.  It’s a simple, short sentence, but it carries a lot of weight that she kind of hopes Master Jinshi won’t read too much into.

A brisk knock on her door jolts her from her thoughts.  Who would be knocking at this hour?

The answer, it turns out, is Master Gaoshun, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“Oh. Um, hello.”

Master Gaoshun nods at her.  It’s hard to get a read on this guy, but he seems nice enough, and she can’t help but feel a little more comfortable around him than anyone else in this place.

“How can I help you?” She adds, when he says nothing.

It looks like it physically pains him to answer her, but he does regardless.

“Master Jinshi sent me to pick up a letter? He assures me you’ve definitely written it by now.”

Maomao blinks at him.  By now? It had been, at most, an hour and a half since she’d last seen her boss.  Why would he just assume her letter would be ready?

Master Gaoshun seems to take her silence as confirmation that she hasn’t written anything.

“I understand it’s only been a short amount of time.  My apologies, Master Jinshi was insistent on this, though I did warn him it probably wasn’t ready.”

Maomao squirms uncomfortably in the doorway, not wanting to admit that Master Jinshi had been right. She doesn’t want it to seem like she’s eager or anything, but the letter is sitting right there, so…

She sighs and spins around, grabbing the paper a little more forcefully than is probably necessary. 

She presents it to Master Gaoshun.  He looks genuinely surprised by this turn of events, but accepts it regardless.

“Many thanks, Xiaoamao.”

“Um…”

Did he just call her what she thinks he called her?

Master Gaoshun’s eyes widen a bit as he appears to realize what he’d said.  “I’m so sorry, I did not mean to call you by such an informal name.  It’s just….” He sighs, “You’re just such a little thing, it’s what I’ve reflexively begun to call you in my head.  I won’t do that again.”

Such a little thing?

What is wrong with the men in this palace?

She crosses her arms, slightly annoyed, but there’s not really any fire behind it.  Gaoshun seems harmless, like someone’s exhausted uncle.  It’s difficult to be mad at him, and besides, does she really care if he gives her a nickname?

“It’s…fine,” She says, a bit awkwardly, “Call me whatever you’d like.”

Gaoshun raises an eyebrow.  

“You truly don’t care?”

“You’ll find there’s a lot of things I don’t care about.”

He squints, like he’s seeing her in a new light, but finally responds with.  “Interesting.  Have a good night, Xiaomao.”

She bids him good night as well, and then shuts the door behind her.  

He’s not the first person to call her interesting, though usually it’s said in the most derogatory of ways.

Gaoshun said it like he meant it as more of a compliment, or at the very least, a neutral statement.  

Interesting, indeed.

~
When Gaoshun returns with the letter, it takes everything in Jinshi not to jump from his desk.  He needs to play it cool.  He can’t let him know that he’s interested in Maomao, or why.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the letter from his attendant.

Usually, at this point, Gaoshun would leave to do something else, but this time he stays.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

Jinshi hates when he gets something on his face.  It’s like brushing charcoal across an oil painting.  Simply horrific.

“You seem to have quite an interest in the girl.”

He says it bluntly, and his meaning is clear.

He’s known Jinshi his entire life, and, although he’s never seen him take romantic interest in anyone, he has seen him become obsessive about a great many things.  The dots are not that difficult to connect.

“I do not,” Jinshi says.  He means for it to come out haughtily, but instead it sounds like a child trying to win an argument on the playground.

Gaoshun makes a hmm noise, which is almost worse than not saying anything at all.  He watches Jinshi for another moment, choosing his words carefully.

“We’ve never met anyone quite like her before.”

This is an understatement.  They’ve both been surrounded by high ranking women and servant girls for a very long time, and not only is Maomao not quite either, but she’s very obviously different from the others as well.

Jinshi doesn’t answer, so Gaoshun simply nods.  “Please be careful, Sir,” he says in a low voice, and then he takes his leave.  

Jinshi rubs his temples.  Gaoshun really does know him too well.  He does need to be careful, but probably in ways his caretaker does not even realize.

The letter on the desk stares at him, and his heart beats wildly in his chest.  He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but when he reads what the Apothecary has written, he furrows his brow.

Only a fool would trust a stranger where I come from.

If Jinshi remembers correctly from the questionnaire she answered, the girl hailed from a poor area in the red light district.

An upbringing as different from his as possible.

Although.  

He taps his fingers on his desk, gazing at the paper.  They’ve both been trapped their entire lives, haven’t they?

His heart aches for her.  He knows exactly what it’s like to be unable to trust anyone, but she probably wouldn’t understand it if he told her that.  She’d probably think he was making things up in an attempt to relate to her.

After a bit of thought, he picks up his brush and begins to write.

~

They get into a routine.

Maomao wakes up one morning to find a basket on either side of her door.  One is labeled “Out”, while the other says “In”.

Today, there is a piece of paper in the “In” box.

So this is how it’s going to be?

She reaches into the box to remove its contents and heads to her work space.  Today should be the last day she needs to finish cleaning before she can begin to stock it.  Her heart jumps excitedly at the thought.  Oh, the plants and poisons she’s going to keep here…

By the time she gets there, she’s nearly forgotten about the letter, but it makes itself known by rustling in her pocket when she sits down.

She really does not want to be distracted right now, but she can’t ignore a message from her boss, no matter how silly it may be.

But what she reads doesn’t seem silly at all.

I think, in spite of where one may be from, trust has to be earned by everyone we meet.  

After this there is a dark line in the middle of the page, like he’d written something and then crossed it out.  The next part of the letter reads:

It’s alright if you don’t trust me right now.  No doubt I’ll win you over with my boyish charm and witty personality.

Nevermind.  Of course it’s silly again.

Can you tell me more about yourself?

Maomao groans.  She hates that question.  What is she even supposed to say? There isn’t much to her, after all.  But again, she can’t ignore her boss, so she sends her response to the correct box promptly.

~

Multiple letters are exchanged throughout the coming days.  Maomao takes her time reading and responding in between cleaning and preparing, while Jinshi seems to be able to respond sporadically based on his duties. 

A transcript of the conversation between an Apothecary and her Boss

Maomao: Don’t you know everything you need to know from the questionnaire you had me fill out?

Jinshi: Those were specifics.  You never had the chance to introduce yourself in your own words.

Maomao: What do you want to know?

Jinshi: It’s not about what I want to know.  It’s about what you want to tell me.

Maomao: Alright, then I humbly abstain from responding.

Jinshi: Fine, okay, it’s a little bit about what I want to know! Just give me two facts about yourself.

Maomao: Is this part of my job?

Jinshi: Are you asking if you’re getting paid for this?

Maomao: Frankly, yes.

Jinshi: Yes. You are getting paid for this.

Maomao: In that case, my two facts are: One, I have green hair, and Two, I am seventeen.

Jinshi: Apothecary.  I know those things. Tell me something DIFFERENT.

Maomao: Will I get a raise if I do?

Jinshi: No, but you won’t get fired.

Maomao: Alright, fine. One fact is that I grew up in a brothel, and the other is that I enjoy alcohol.

Jinshi: I must say, you are painting quite a picture of yourself right now.

Maomao: Just being honest.

Jinshi makes a sound between a laugh and a groan.

This girl is a tough nut to crack.  She takes things so literally, and is incredibly unwilling to open up.

But….

His mouth turns up at the edge, just a little.

Now he knows more about her.  And she told him herself.

He’s not stupid.  He knows she’s only entertaining him because she has to.  But it’s been so long since he’s had a conversation like this, and it’s frankly entertaining as hell.

He fingers the String in his pocket.  So this is his soulmate, huh?

In her own words, she has green hair, she’s seventeen, she grew up in a brothel, and she likes alcohol.

A very, very small start.  

But sometimes it takes a couple strikes to light a candle.  This will just be like trying to light a candle in the middle of a windstorm.

Easy.

He props his chin on his hand.

Green hair.  Seventeen.  Grew up in a brothel.  Enjoys her alcohol.

Alright, yeah.  He can definitely work with this.

Chapter Text

Three weeks into her tenure at Master Jinshi’s place, Maomao declares that her work space is finally complete.

She’d cleaned as best she could, and reorganized all the furniture.  Now there’s just the matter of getting all the ingredients she needs.

Frankly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s actually doing here.  Both she and Master Jinshi know that women are not allowed to practice medicine.  But she’s decided that, for the moment, she couldn’t care less, because she’s going to have so many fun things to work with.

She presents her list of ingredients to Master Jinshi that night.  

They still speak mostly through letters, but for professional matters, they talk face to face.

It’s actually kind of bizarre. She sometimes feels as though Master Jinshi is two separate people.  

The first is her boss.  Obviously.

This Master Jinshi speaks to her formally, his words resounding with power.  This is the Jinshi she sees in person, the one she needs to put all her paperwork through to, and the one she must report to at the end of every day.

But at the same time, there’s Letter Jinshi.  (Maomao has never been very creative, so this is what she calls him in lieu of a better nickname).

Letter Jinshi is different in that he speaks to her almost as though she’s an equal.

Almost.

There are lines she knows neither of them can cross, and so the letters remain as professional as possible, but she’s able to make jokes in her letters, as long as they’re respectful enough.

She’s kept rather tight-lipped about herself, as has Letter Jinshi.  It appears neither of them are willing to concede too much information to the other, and so the conversation is a bit stunted sometimes.

But mostly, it’s much easier to talk to Letter Jinshi.  Through him, she’s learned a tiny bit about her boss.  She knows now that, despite how mature he seems on the outside, he really is quite childish on the inside.  She knows that he has a weakness for spicy teas, and he even once accidentally let slip that he enjoys romance novels, a fact he made her swear to take to her grave.

She also gets the distinct feeling that he’s lonely, and that he has been his whole life.

Not that this is any of her business, of course.  She doesn’t need to get herself involved in her boss’s emotional affairs.

She even said so in a letter once, to which he had a fascinating reply.

How do you get close to people if you don’t involve yourself with them?

To which she’d responded: I don’t.

It was true, and she didn’t think it was a big deal, but she thought she might have offended him with her answer, because he didn’t respond for the rest of that day.

To her relief, however, he sent her another letter the next morning, pointedly changing the subject.

That was another thing.

Master Jinshi was perceptive.

Only a few weeks, and already he could tell when she did and did not want to talk about something.  He seemed to grasp her boundaries quickly, and although he frequently attempted to push them, at least he knew where they were.

All in all the situation was confusing if she thought about it too much, so she did her best not to.

Trying to reconcile her boss with the man she’s been exchanging letters with was just a headache waiting to happen.

And so now she stands politely in front of him as he reads her list of ingredients.

Once he’s done so, he puts down the paper, his face expressionless.

“Apothecary,” he says, using her title rather than her name, as he usually does, “How many of the things on this list are poisonous?”

Shit.

Maomao squirms, not looking him in the eye.

She was hoping he wouldn’t ask that question.

“I would say maybe….thirty five percent?”

Master Jinshi just stares her down, until, finally, she breaks.

“Okay, fine, more like seventy two percent.”

Her boss sighs.

“Apothecary, you know I can’t bring all of this into the palace.  You may be gifted, but not only are you new, and not only are you a woman, but you’ve never had any patients here before, and we can’t just trust you’ll use these poisons responsibly.”

Maomao tries not to glare at Master Jinshi.  She knows he’s objectively correct, but she also knows that she needs these things.

“Most of these poisons can also be medicinal in small doses, which is why I asked for them.”

He blinks.

“Most?”

Man.  He wasn’t supposed to catch that.

“A few aren’t….medicinal….exactly,” She manages.

“And…what were you planning on doing with these poisons?”

She’s been caught already.  No need to lie.  Maomao stands up straight and says “I was planning on using them in experiments, sir.”

Master Jinshi narrows his eyes.  “What kind of experiments?  Who are your test subjects?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I only use them on myself.”

His eyes go wide.  “You would poison yourself???”

“I thought I told you it was my hobby?”

Master Jinshi looks like he’s seen a ghost as he raises his voice and says “I thought that meant you enjoyed learning about them, not that you enjoyed ingesting them!”

“Well,” Maomao says carefully, “I don’t ingest all of them.  Some I try externally.”

He stares at her for a few seconds and then says “Apothecary, would you be so kind as to remove the bandage on your arm?”

Damn. She’s been found out.  Time to try her classic response.

“I can’t do that, sir,” she says, trying her best to sound shy,  “You see, I was born with a rather unsightly birthmark, and I use the bandages to cover-”

“Maomao.”

Uh oh, he’s using her real name.  He means business.

Unable to ignore a direct order, she hesitantly unwraps the bandages, wincing at the sharp gasp that comes from her boss’s mouth.

“Did..did you do all of that to yourself?” He asks, sounding downright horrified.

She looks at her arm, her eyes roaming over the various burns and scars.  It doesn’t look that bad , does it?

She nods in affirmation.  “These are the results of my experiments. I’ve learned so much over the years, and-”

He holds up a hand to silence her, looking positively exhausted.

“You know, most people’s eyes wouldn’t light up when they talk about something like this.”

Maomao shrugs.  “I’ve been told by quite a few people how strange I am.  It isn’t anything new.”

He stares at her, and then back at her list.

“Alright.  I’m going to have some people look this list over.  You won’t be getting everything, but you’ll get enough to do what you need to do.”

She expected this.  She bows her head and begins to thank him, but he interrupts her.

“If I hear about you performing any more experiments on yourself, you’ll find yourself in deep trouble.”

At this, her head whips up.  That’s completely unfair.  “But sir, I need to do those things, I’ll only learn if I-”

“Learn some other way,” he says, and his voice holds a tone that will allow no nonsense.

She’s just thinking about what a party pooper he is, when he looks back at her arm and says “I don’t like that you’ve been hurt.  I just…I don’t like it.”

She’s taken aback by the intense sadness in his eyes.  She’s had people pity her for her arm, sure, but that doesn’t appear to be what this is.  This is genuine concern.  It looks like it actually hurts him to see her hurt.

“Oh,” she says, unsure how to respond to that.

It’s kind of him to care, but she’s not sure why he feels so strongly about it.  They’d met less than a month ago, and she’s just his servant, so why does it matter so much to him?

She watches him watching her, and is suddenly struck by the simple fact that she’s already closer to this man than she’s gotten to most people.  How that happened so suddenly is beyond her.  She’s used to keeping people at a distance, and it isn’t like she and Master Jinshi are even really friends or anything.

But it usually takes years for her to become this comfortable with someone.

(That is to say, barely comfortable.  But even a little bit of comfort astounds her.)

She doesn’t like this one bit.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she says, suddenly in a hurry to leave.  It’s a little rude, but the room is suddenly stifling, and she simply can’t stand the way he’s looking at her right now.

She’s almost out the door when he stops her.

She turns around, and his face is no longer sad.  Instead, it’s once again exhausted.

“There aren’t any loopholes here,” he says pointedly, “If I hear you’re ingesting poison instead, I’ll make sure you get in trouble.”

This time, Maomao can’t hide the annoyed glare she shoots her boss, but he just grins serenely back.

“That’s the apothecary I know,” he says, “Go get some rest, I’ll let you know when the ingredients have arrived.”

She grumbles as she leaves.  What is the point of having poisons if she can’t even enjoy them?

I don’t like that you’ve been hurt.

How stupid.  Everyone’s been hurt before.

Still.  

She can’t help but admit to herself that, for just one single second, the concern actually made her feel kind of good.

Chapter Text

Maomao is in hiding.

Well, not really.  She can’t do her job until the ingredients have arrived, so she has no reason to leave her room.

For a week.

That’s perfectly normal.  The fact that she can’t get the concerned look in Master Jinshi’s eyes from the last time they met out of her head has nothing to do with it.

She spends most of the time in her bed, trying not to think.

Unfortunately, that’s not easy for her.

Gaoshun checks in every so often, and she reassures him that she has a light cold and just needs some time to recuperate. 

He’s polite enough to pretend to believe her.

Maomao groans and covers her head with her blanket.

What is happening to her? Maybe she really is sick?

It would explain the uneasy feeling in her gut, and the fever-like symptoms, but it wouldn’t explain why she feels so uncomfortable, and a little afraid, and it wouldn’t explain the rush of gratitude she feels whenever she thinks about the last conversation with her boss.

He won’t give her all of her poisons.  He won’t even let her continue her experiments.

And yeah, she’s annoyed about that, but for some reason these strange feelings are what she can’t stop focusing on.

She doesn’t like it.  She doesn’t understand what’s going on, and that’s one of her least favorite things in the world, but trying to figure this particular puzzle out makes her so uncomfortable that she can’t even look at the pieces.

The next time Gaoshun knocks on her door, she dutifully drags herself out of bed to open the door.

“Master Gaoshun, I-”

Master Jinshi is standing in front of her with a sheaf of papers in his hand and an annoyed look in his eye.  

“You’re not sick,” he says matter of factly.

Maomao crosses her arms, half because she’s annoyed, and half because she’s admittedly freaking out a little.

“You can’t prove that.”

“Even if you were sick, you’d answer my letters.”

Ah.  That explains the papers in his hands.  Admittedly, she had been ignoring the letters as well.  She told herself she’d save them for when she figures out what’s going on, but that hasn’t happened yet.

“Why do you think I’d answer the letters if I was sick?”

“Just a feeling.”

“A feeling.”

“Yes.”

Maomao clutches at her sleeves.  “Well, I’m sorry sir.  If you require it of me, I’ll start writing back.”

“That’s- I don’t want to force you to- will you just look at me?”

Unexpectedly, Jinshi reaches out and lifts Maomao’s chin with his finger.  They both stand there for a second.

At least Master Jinshi has the decency to look as surprised as Maomao.

He pulls back quickly, and Maomao can hear her heart beating in her ears.  She can still feel his finger on her face.

“I am so sorry, that was completely inappropriate.”

She doesn’t know how to answer that, because he’s entirely correct.  He is her boss.  This is bordering on sexual harassment.

It didn’t feel that way though.  It didn’t feel like a boss taking advantage of his servant, more like a frustrated man doing something impulsively.

And maybe she didn’t hate it.

She can’t let him know that though, so she says “Yes, it was.”

He’s still standing in the doorway, but at her words he starts backing up.  “I’m sorry, I’ll leave, I-”

“You can stay.”

She doesn’t know why she says it.  She doesn’t want him to stay, not really.  

But he looks so forlorn, so pitiful, and she just doesn’t want him to feel that way.

“What?”

Maomao huffs.  “There’s an extra chair at the table, so you might as well…”

Master Jinshi looks around like he’s wondering if he’s going to get in trouble, but he does eventually cross the threshold.  He leaves the door open.  It would be entirely inappropriate for them to be alone in a room together otherwise.

He sits uncomfortably in one of the wooden chairs, somehow looking too large for the setting.  She doesn’t know what to do, so she starts tidying up imaginary messes.  Surely dusting the windowsill will make all of this make sense.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t, and they end up in an uncomfortable silence until she can’t pretend anymore.

She whirls around and bows to him suddenly.  “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your letters.  It was disrespectful.”

He blinks at her.  “It’s really okay.”

Maomao shakes her head.  “You are my superior, and you told me to do something, and I disobeyed.  I apologize.”

He sighs, and something makes her look up.  She isn’t prepared for how sad he looks.

“Is…is something wrong?”

Master Jinshi puts his head in his hands.  “Yes. I’m a mess.”

“Uh…”

“I was stupid,” he murmurs, almost to himself, “I just…I thought if we communicated through letters we could become friends, but-”

“Friends????”

Master Jinshi looks up at Maomao’s outburst.  She’s positively alarmed.

“Why do you look so upset at the concept?” He grumbles.

“Because,” she tries to explain,” That would be inappropriate. You’re my-”

“Boss, I know,” he says, “But I still thought maybe we could-”

“Uh, no.  No.  Absolutely not.”

Maomao is panicking now, but Master Jinshi doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on.  “I didn’t realize my friendship would be such a burden,” he says dully.

“That’s not it,” Maomao says, “It’s just that…well, I don’t really want to die.”

“ What?”

“I am completely below you in every way.  If we were friends…it would inevitably lead to my beheading.”

Master Jinshi looks like he hadn’t even considered this, that idiot.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Maybe not you, but someone could.  It wouldn’t be a safe situation.”

He blinks at her again.

“So, if I could guarantee your safety…will you be my friend?”

Maomao’s face burns, but she ignores it.  “You can’t guarantee my safety,” she says stiffly.

“I’ll…I’ll write you a contract!” He says.

“A contract.”

“Yes! If I write a contract promising that you can’t be harmed for being involved with me, will you-”

“That’s ridiculous,” Maomao interrupts.  “There’s no such thing.”

Master Jinshi ponders this.  “I mean, there could be.”

Maomao stares at him.  “Why do you want to be my friend so badly?”

The bridge of his nose goes red, and Maomao wants to get closer to investigate.

She doesn’t, though.

“I just…I feel like…you know?” He asks helplessly, and she’s about to scoff at him, but somehow she does know.

Goddamnit.

“Fine,” she says, “Write your contract.  But I want at least two witnesses to sign, and your seal attached.  Those are my terms.”

He perks up like a puppy.

“You mean-”

“Yes,” Maomao says, and she finds she can’t look at him again, “I’ll…I’ll be your friend.  This is ridiculous.  But I’ll be your friend.”

Master Jinshi has already started running out of the room, presumably to get his seal.

Why do these things happen to her? It was supposed to be a simple job.  All she wanted to do was make medicine.

And yet she can’t help but notice that she feels better now.  She’s still a little afraid, but the discomfort is basically gone, and she even finds herself smiling a little.  Immediately, she forces a scowl onto her face.  This entire thing is stupid.

Still though.

She’s never had a friend.