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No matter how tired she was, Maomao woke up still in the middle of the night. Too exhausted to finally go brush her teeth, but still too awake to properly go back to sleep. She couldn't do much else but ruminate.
Her bed was cold, quite unlike the scenario she had so diligently prepared for tonight. It always irked her when things didn't go to plan. All the work she'd done felt useless now.
Maybe that was why she was so upset; Jinshi had disregarded all of her preparations. He hadn't even given her the chance to say she knew other ways. She didn't think he was paying attention to her at all during his embarrassed spiraling.
But Maomao had been embarrassed too. Nothing of that were things she was used to. In theory, sure, she'd grown up a witness to many kinds of humans' strange mating rituals. But she had never thought she would end up participating in them, much less this willingly.
It took more effort than she'd realized. Gathering the courage to be so forthcoming, when she so rarely was when it came to her feelings, had been a job all on its own. Not to mention the literal gathering of the things she would need to protect herself. She was upset most of all that all of it would probably go to waste now.
She had followed all the necessary steps. Jinshi still seemed resigned about it, even after his years and years of chasing her. He had been polite and honest when he'd rejected her.
So why was Maomao still reeling over this? Why was this the source of all her rumination, when there were so many other, more pressing matters looming over the horizon?
The longer time passed, the more she felt like a stranger to herself. Something of hers was lost during her year in the Western capital, and she'd gained something else in its place. She tried to think about what she loved, and was relieved to have her thoughts filled by the most beautiful medicinal herbs she could imagine. She smiled in spite of herself. No, that wasn't what had changed.
It was something about the kidnapping. It was something about Xiaohong. It was something about the plague. It was something in Anan. It was something about the journey there. Something about her secret training, the branding, the go tournament, the banquet, the Shi clan...
The arguments, the tension, the longing, the clinginess, the annoyance – and the person who had pulled her into every single mess she's been in since that fateful day in the rear palace, so long ago now it felt like another life.
He truly is a most troublesome man.
A beauty that rivaled many immortal and celestial beings. A smile so sparkly yet so unsettling Maomao had always prided herself in being immune to it. She was immune to the honeyed voice, to the mannerisms of that perfect creature that was Jinshi the Eunuch.
But that wasn't who Jinshi truly was, and the more she got to know him, the more Maomao realized she wasn't truly immune. Not to the person he really was, and the more cracks began to show, the more she wished to peel back all of the layers in his façade.
It wasn't easy, especially after she realized knowing the truth could only bring her more trouble. Ignorance was the best protection, so she feigned it as much and as best as she could. Maomao didn't feel that way anymore.
There was no going back. All the things she'd futilely, childishly desired were never going to happen. She couldn't unknow what she knew. She couldn't go back to a strictly professional relationship with the Moon Prince.
Maomao surprised herself in realizing that was never what she wanted. She might hate the Moon Prince's title and what it represents. She might fear making an enemy of Empress Gyokuyou should the truth ever come out. She might have denied and pushed down her feelings precisely because her reticence made them hard to understand.
But she had never hated Jinshi. Not Jinshi the Eunuch; just Jinshi. The childish, impulsive, perverted masochist that he was beneath all of his lies. And the hard working, naïve and kind to a fault man he was too. She'd seen right through him from the start, and he'd latched onto her the moment he'd realized it.
He's got strange tastes.
How many times had she thought exactly that? How much did she actually believe in that statement? Was it so strange for Jinshi to go after someone who didn't treat him like the perfect ethereal being he'd always projected himself to be? Wasn't it completely logical to want someone to see his human side?
Wasn't it even better if that someone genuinely preferred his true self?
Maomao sighed. “That's enough of that,” she muttered, tired beyond belief. Thinking about it would only make her more upset. She rolled on the bed, the side of the sheets she hadn't been on cool to the touch. She couldn't voice what she wanted instead of this, not even secretly in her own mind.
Maomao ran her right hand across the bandage on her left arm. She thought about the scars right underneath it – the enduring results of all her curious experiments. Jinshi would often ask her why she would do something like that, and Maomao was always at a loss to what to say.
But perhaps the answer was much simpler than she'd realized. Perhaps it wasn't that different to the reason Jinshi had his scars. Maomao knew how much he liked the flaws his body had endured – and perhaps he was fonder of his branding than he let on.
Love was as cruel as it could be beautiful, after all.
Maomao suddenly remembered Princess Fuyou. She remembered her sleepwalking; a ploy to go back to the man she loved. She remembered seeing her in Anan, happiness and gratitude clear in her features as she spoke to Jinshi.
“Maybe love is a poison,” she muttered again, her eyes fluttering shut. She had always heard that from the courtesans at the Verdigris House.
But Maomao knew well enough that a poison in the correct dose could be a medicine.
She thought of Jinshi again; the long string of actions he’d taken and how it had gotten them here. Those were not the actions of someone with a clear state of mind – or so Maomao wanted to believe. Somehow, it was still easier to lie to herself, even after her choice was made.
She hoped Jinshi had noticed it, in spite of that.
With that thought echoing in her mind, she finally tired enough to sleep once more.