Chapter Text
Maomao glanced up from her seat in her workshop. The warm clothes Jinshi had promised her did their job well, and Suiren had finally allowed her back out, so she could work. She stood up to slide open the workshop door to be face to face with a wall of blue cloth. She looked up to see her husband.
Jinshi smiled at her. “My dear apothecary,” he greeted smoothly, waltzing in without much preamble. “Have you had lunch?”
She closed the door, shaking her head. “I’ve been making cold medicine the whole morning,” Maomao replied, nodding to her workstation. She eyed the basket swinging from Jinshi’s arm. “But I assume you’ll be distracting me from that.”
“Always so clever,” Jinshi said brightly. “Do you have a moment?”
Maomao turned to survey the medicine that technically needed to be made as soon as possible, then looked back at her husband.
She supposed she could be a little more lenient with him.
She sighed, sitting back down. “If you’re so inclined, Jinshi-sama, you can feed me while I work, but these need to get to the inner court as soon as I can finish it,” Maomao allowed, beginning to get back to work. A spark of something bloomed in her chest when she heard him drag a taller stool over, buns in hand. “Please don’t let me burn my mouth while I work,” she said. “I place myself in your care.”
Jinshi hummed happily, lifting a piece of the bun to her lips. After orienting herself, Maomao took it from him with her teeth.
They worked like this in silence, with Jinshi feeding her something every now and then as she ground the medicine together. Sometimes, he asked a question on how the herbs worked, and Maomao, delighted, would answer, but their early afternoon was spent quietly.
When the next piece of bun arrived at her lips and she felt full, Maomao bit his finger instead of the bun. Jinshi yelped softly. “You could’ve just said you were done,” he whined. Maomao licked the bite wound and nudged his finger out of the way. “I’m going to get you back for that.”
“Feel free when I’m not working,” Maomao said flatly. She poured the rest of the remedy into the bottles and stood up, glancing back down at him, nodding to the door. “Are you coming?”
Her husband jumped to his feet and followed her, so close behind that she could feel the warmth emanating from his body.
“Remember you are my master and not my husband when we are out,” Maomao reminded him. “You should be walking in front of me.” Jinshi rested his hand on the small of her back. Maomao let herself relax into it for a second before swatting him away with a glare. “What did I just say?”
He shrugged guilelessly. “How about we compromise on beside?” Jinshi said, falling into step with her. “I can walk with you, right, dear apothecary?”
“Not if you keep calling me dear,” Maomao snorted. “You’ll have half the inner court thinking we’re having a romantic affair.”
Jinshi chuckled. “They are quite starved for gossip, aren’t they?”
“You’re their manager, you should know better than I do.” Maomao turned the corner to the medical office. “If you don’t want to be detained for tea, I suggest you don’t come in with me, Jinshi-sama.”
“Noted.”
Maomao exhaled as she walked inside, greeting Guen with a little wave. “I can’t stay for long,” she said. “Just dropping this off for the girls who have colds. Is there anything else you need from me?”
Guen beamed at her. “No, that’s all, thank you so much, my dear.”
“Okay, bye, then.” Maomao let him pat her on the shoulder before she joined Jinshi outside again. She looked at the medical office longingly as they walked back home. “You know,” she said, “I wanted to run my own apothecary shop when I was younger.”
Jinshi glanced at her. “Oh?”
Maomao shrugged. “I had just gone back to Verdigris House after my first lesson on making medicine. I was excited. I saw the profit in it. If people kept coming to me, I’d be able to make a good living and live comfortably. Quietly.” She stretched her arms to the sky, shaking out her worn out muscles. “I’ve always wanted to live quietly. Making too much noise is dangerous. Draws unwanted attention. Usually not such good attention, either.”
Her husband hummed. “Makes sense,” he said. “When I was young, I wanted to be a servant.”
Maomao blinked at him. “A servant?”
“I didn’t see the bad side to the job, as a child,” Jinshi explained. “I saw… people unburdened by their future. They knew exactly what they were meant to do, and they weren’t afraid of it. And it seemed nice, a life spent just cooking, or just washing, or just weaving.” His eyes sparkled when he looked at her. “I’m sure Ah Duo-sama has already told you, but I quite liked embroidery when I was small.”
Maomao thought back. “She did mention you were interested in needlework,” she agreed. “Did you keep any of them?”
Jinshi’s smile made her heart flip inside her chest. “I’ll show you when we get home.”
Hmm. How peculiar that a simple phrase from him could make her feel all that.
Their following days were quiet. These days, deep into the winter, they didn’t have much work to do. Maomao made her medicines in big batches, and the concubines didn’t need much from Jinshi either. It wasn’t their fault that they spent their free time under the covers, conserving warmth.
Maomao watched as her husband’s chest rose and fell, watched the delicate curve of his lips curl up. She wondered what he could be dreaming of that had him smiling like this.
Listening to his even breathing, Maomao sighed to herself, matching him.
How can I care for him more than I already do? she thought. How can I… show him that I care, and not get his hopes up at the same time?
Maybe I should just tell him.
But wouldn’t that hurt him more?
Wouldn’t it hurt even more if I don’t tell him now and let it slip in the long run?
She groaned. Thinking about it made her head hurt, and honestly, Maomao didn’t really care for her head hurting. Not that any sane person would.
Her eyes snagged back on her husband’s sleeping form. He really was beautiful, especially when he slept. Maomao brushed his fallen bangs away from his eyes, not surprised when they blinked open to reveal a deep pink-ish purple that disappeared in favour of his pupils when he saw her.
“Good morning, my dearest,” he said in a rough, sleep-ridden voice. Maomao liked it like this. This was a part of him that she got to keep to herself and away from his hordes of fangirls who insisted that he was perfectly sweet and smooth at every turn.
So ‘my dear wife’ had turned to ‘dearest’, eh? Maomao twirled his hair around her finger, burying her thoughts back into the recesses of her mind. “Good morning,” she replied.
Ask him on a date, a voice inside her head suggested.
“Would you consider going on a date with me today?” left her lips before she could properly realize what she was saying. Maomao blinked at him, suddenly taking her hand away from his face. His face that was steadily reddening. Maomao tucked her chin in, not meeting his eyes. “If you have the time.”
Jinshi captured the hand she had moved away in his, pressing his lips to the back of it. “I’ll always make time for you,” he said, sparkling. “But in today’s case, I’m entirely free. Not that I wouldn’t have said yes either way.”
Maomao felt her cheeks prickle. Ah, he’s so embarrassing when he says things like that. “Well, then,” she sniffed. “Then you should plan something.”
She pretended not to notice the shine in his eyes. He loved planning these sorts of things.
Suddenly, she lost the warmth she’d been enjoying for the past few hours and yelped, cold air hitting her body. Maomao whined quietly, wrapping the blanket around herself as she followed her husband up. Jinshi, realizing what she was doing, chuckled and picked her and the blanket up, bridal style.
Maomao thumped his chest. “What are you doing?” She scowled. “You suddenly going for that knight in shiny armour crap? The title of prince of the nation finally appealing to you so you gotta take it out on me?”
Jinshi grinned down at her. It was like sunlight. “Go back to sleep, if you’re tired,” he said. “We’re going to my office so I can start getting things in order for our date.”
“Shouldn’t we get dressed, then?” Maomao asked.
“No, it’s alright. It’ll be Gaoshun and Basen really ordering the people around, anyway. You and I can stay comfortable.”
“That’s unfair to them,” she pointed out.
Her husband tossed her into the air gently, and Maomao tried not to shriek. “They’re used to it,” he said, not apologizing. Maomao batted at his pretty, pretty face. “I’ll give them the rest of the day off after this, anyways.” He set her down on the couch gently, tucking the blanket so that heat wouldn’t escape. “I’ll be back.”
Maomao hummed, content to bask in the warmth of her blanket cocoon, and soon enough, he was back. She eyed him up and down before begrudgingly opening her blanket cocoon to let him in. Jinshi joined her, a big stupid smile on his face, curling up and pulling her onto his lap.
She hissed when his fingers snuck under her shirt to press against her abdomen.
“Payback,” Jinshi whispered, tightening his hold on her waist. “Gaoshun should be here any moment.”
Maomao glared at him. “Then why are you in my cocoon?”
“Because you invited me, and I’m at loath to refuse you,” her husband said sweetly. “Any time I’m close to you, I’m better for it.”
There he goes again, Maomao thought, heart twisting and flipping its way to try and kill her. Loving so easily and so… Jinshi-like. I wonder if what I do translates what I try to feel for him.
Gaoshun knocked at the open doorway before coming in. “Good morning, Jinshi-sama,” he said politely. “Suiren-sama said you called for me?”
“Yes, good morning!” Jinshi beamed. “It’s time to enact plan twenty one.”
If Maomao didn’t imagine it, Gaoshun looked faintly excited. “Plan twenty one, sir?” he repeated, confirming. “That will involve the kitchen staff and some servants.”
“Yes, yes, all of it.” Her husband’s smile was infectious, and Maomao found herself matching it, even just a tiny bit. “Execute plan twenty one in full. Flowers, candles, everything. And— if you can get the seamstress to send the rest of the clothes from the winter collection, and get the cook to sneak some of the plum wine into the dinner basket, then I think that will make everything perfect.”
Gaoshun bowed and left. Jinshi watched until he got out of eyesight.
Maomao prodded her husband. “You have date plans numbered with specific staff picked out and yet you still are behind on your paperwork, manager-of-the-rear-palace-sama?” she teased, tugging at his earlobe. “I think you should reevaluate your list of priorities.”
Jinshi nosed at her neck, holding her in place so she couldn’t squirm away. “My wife is the highest on my list of priorities, and I have no intention of moving her anywhere,” he said, sounding both completely serious and playful at the same time. “You are quite irreplaceable, you know, dearest.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure everyone in the palace would jump at the chance of finding you another wife, and for that, I’m sure there is an endless train of girls hoping to marry you,” Maomao said matter-of-factly. “I was just the only one lucky enough to be chosen.”
“Lucky, you say?” Her husband nipped at the nape of her neck. “I’ve never heard you say you were lucky to be here.”
“Objectively, I mean,” Maomao corrected. And… well. She did really like it here, now that she thought about it. “Anyone would be lucky to be chosen to marry the prince, Jinshi-sama, no matter now much you dislike the position.”
He exhaled, and Maomao could feel his breath ghost over her skin. He really liked her neck, it seemed. “Well, anyway,” Jinshi said, “I’m not talking about replacing you as a wife. I really enjoy your company. I could never replace that. You’re one of a kind.”
Maomao rolled her eyes at him, trying to wriggle his face away from her neck. It had started to tickle, and she really— wasn’t fond of that. “I’m sure you could if you really tried,” she said.
“No, never.” Jinshi held her to his chest. “I would never find someone else like you.”
Ahhh… “Jinshi-sama, I’m just another borderline illegitimate girl from the pleasure district,” she said faintly. “There are hundreds like me. Just pick one with the same kind of humour and the same kind of height and you’ll be just fine.”
Her husband pushed her forward, staring at her straight in the eyes, purple eyes meeting blue. He looked… frustrated?
“You don’t get it,” he insisted. “There is no one like you. No one in the universe. Sure, there may be girls who come from the same place and situation as you, who look similar to you, who may have your sense of humour, but they are not you. They could never be you.”
Maomao gazed back at him, nonplussed. “What would I be other than those qualities you just described, Jinshi-sama?” she asked. “Take away all of that, and you’ll have nothing.”
“It’s not about who you are without those qualities, it’s what you do with them. And I like you,” he said plainly. “You’re my favourite.”
He was doing something to her. Something that was entirely foreign to her, except she was certain he’d done it before. It made her muscles relax and made her want to melt into him, so close that nobody would know that she was there. Maomao didn’t know what it was, but it made her feel warm, pliant, and like she wanted to prove herself worthy of the title. She wanted to hold him and keep him safe and take care of him as long as he wanted her to.
Jinshi laughed softly. “Did I break you, wife?” he said mischievously.
“Of course not,” she retorted, pulling on his bangs. “I can’t let you get a bigger head than you already have.”
But inside, Maomao thought, maybe he did.