Chapter Text
Night had fallen over the capital, cloaking the sky in darkness while the gentle moon hung like a silver lantern above. Behind tall, dragon-carved walls, the grand residence of a noble lord glowed with the warm light of lanterns and lotus-shaped candles, their golden hues flickering like stars trapped in glass.
The celebration had begun.
The lilting notes of an erhu floated through the air—its melancholic strains pierced the heart like a soft weeping. A female musician sat cross-legged on a low platform, her fingers dancing nimbly across the strings. She was known as Joka, a woman famed for her many talents in poetry and music. Before her, Pairin—the lead dancer—moved gracefully across the jade floor, her crimson sash trailing like fire in the wind. Her hands swayed, her steps were light as air, as if she danced without touching the earth. Beside her, Meimei lent her voice to the night, a woman whose singing talent could stir the soul of any listener.
Beneath the vast hall, rosewood tables stood arranged neatly like lotus blooms on a still lake. Nobles clad in silk robes embroidered with dragons and fenghuang birds sat in ranks, laughing and conversing as they raised porcelain cups of plum wine. Lavish dishes were laid before them—roast duck, fish, intricately carved mooncakes, and autumn fruits—served on silver trays. It was said this banquet celebrated the birthday of a minister, who had invited his esteemed peers for an evening of indulgence.
Among the laughter, chatter, and clinking of cups, a young woman moved with quiet purpose. Maomao—an apothecary hired only as a support, her role was to refill cups and replace used ones. Her hair was half pinned, the rest flowing freely down her back. She wore a soft yellow hanfu with a tangerine skirt, decorated with delicate floral patterns. She walked slowly, bowing politely at each table, her hands deftly pouring wine from a small vessel.
Maomao tried to become a quiet shadow, drifting unnoticed.
But not everything went according to her quiet wish. Several noblemen had already begun to glance her way.
It wasn’t unusual—after a few banquets like this, she had come to expect it.
Seven years ago, an unusual incident changed her life.
She had become involved in a ritual honoring the Cat Goddess—a local belief—and it left her marked with power.
A few magic.
The ability to turn into a cat. The capacity to erase memories. To ward off malicious intent. The body’s ability to heal itself. The power to charm others.
Charm magic.
A troublesome kind of magic, in her opinion, because unlike other spells, this one clung to her body.
Magic that makes people interested and pay attention. It couldn't be controlled.
Another troublesome thing was experienced.
In the beginning, after involving in the belief ritual, Maomao suffered from being trapped in cat form. She ended up disappearing for a year in an attempt to return to human form. What she had to do was help someone, and that someone turned out to be a young prince living in the palace. Eventually, Maomao managed to return to human form after helping lighten up his suffering, though it took a year. Maomao erased the prince's memories and returned to her home in the pleasure district. Her worried family always waited for her return. However, Maomao was not the same Maomao as before. She was not normal human. She possessed mysterious powers and had to keep them a secret, including the reason for her disappearance.
The last troublesome thing Maomao complained about was the change in her body shape. She was taller and more attractive in appearance.
Madam had often tried to persuade her to debut as a courtesan. She was certain Maomao would become the fourth princess of Verdigris if she ever agreed. Maybe she had noticed how Maomao’s appearance had grown more refined, her features more beautiful. Sometimes clients even asked about her when placing reservations in the late afternoon.
“She’s just the apothecary,” madam would reply if anyone inquired.
Yet, her subtle efforts to draw Maomao into the business included involving her in banquets like these. It was almost as if she were a part-time courtesan—though Maomao never touched nor was touched by any client.
Still, she accepted such jobs for the practical reason that they paid well, helping her cover rent for the Pharmacy and the cost of daily living.
At one table, a middle-aged nobleman waved in her direction. Madam nudged her with an elbow, urging her forward.
The man looked half-drunk and cheerfully flushed.
“You’re quite charming,” he said as Maomao sat beside him and poured wine into his cup.
“Thank you, sir.”
“How long have you been working here? You look quite young,” suddenly, eager to strike up conversation.
“I’m not a courtesan, sir. I’m only here as a banquet support."
“You’re not? But... isn’t everyone here a courtesan?” genuinely puzzled by what he had just heard.
“I’m a special case."
“I see... but may I touch you?”
It was a question that required permission. These banquets didn’t include intimate services. If a client wanted anything beyond basic interaction, they had to pay extra—depending on their request.
“I’m not a courtesan and do not offer the primary services you might expect.”
“Ah, I understand. I only wish to touch you respectfully—here, not in a bed,” he replied, his eyes sincere.
Maomao thought for a moment.
We are short on money this month, so maybe a bonus tip would be fine?
He seems polite. He didn’t ask for kiss or anything dirty, right?
Maomao was once accept like this tip, she tricked by a man who said he only wanted to touch her. But the man almost kissed her, so Maomao stomped on his foot hard out of reflex. If she did that again, she’d get in trouble. If she made a scene, she’d be known as a foot-stomping courtesan.
“In that case, I don’t mind.”
Maomao sighed inwardly. She had given consent, so she turned slightly to face him, waiting to see what he would do. After all, if he truly was a respectful and kindness man, a little tip might follow.
The man smiled, then lifted his right hand and gently placed it atop her head.
He began to stroke her hair softly with his palm.
Completely unexpected...
But then again, he was simply enchanted by the cat. What else would someone enchanted by a cat want, if not to pet it?
He was just mildly captivated. Safe.
The scene drew the attention of several noble tables nearby.
But Maomao didn’t give it much thought. Maybe some found the interaction strange, others looked on with envy, and a few chuckled at the odd sweetness of it.
These were all natural reactions, Maomao believed.
Maomao will return to madam's side near the food table area.
A tall courtesan hurried along and stumbled slightly. She almost fell, but was caught by Maomao, who was walking just ahead of her. There was a small collision, and the tray carrying vessel in the woman’s hands wobbled. The result was easy to see: the drink spilled. Most of it landed on the woman’s hanfu, while Maomao only got a few splashes on her sash.
Madam quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Fortunately, the incident occurred near the table area beside the kitchen, where food and drinks were served—not in front of the guests. Both women had to leave their work to clean up in the bath. The banquet was nearly over anyway, so it wasn’t much of a problem.
“I’m so sorry...” the woman said.
“It’s fine,” Maomao replied.
The courtesan changed her hanfu. Madam always had a few spare outfits prepared. As for Maomao, she only needed to wring out her sash and wash off her sticky arms.
Maomao left before the other woman. Madam had asked her to return quickly since she only needed a quick rinse.
As she walked down the corridor to return, she spotted a man leaning against a wooden pillar, one hand holding his head.
Was he sick ?
Maomao approached calmly. After all, the path to the banquet room led straight ahead. As she drew closer, the man suddenly collapsed and slumped to the floor. She hurried toward him.
She looked at his face—it was pale and he looked like he had just vomited. He had drunk too much.
“Sir, are you alright?”
The man raised his head, looked at Maomao and smiled.
I suddenly have a bad feeling...
Maomao thought.
“Yes, I’m just a little drunk,” he replied.
He quickly attempted to stand up—and managed to do so.
Maomao was about to walk away, seeing that he wasn’t seriously sick. She figured that a man of his status would surely have a guard and would be searched for soon after disappearing from the banquet.
Still, that uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away. And her mysterious friend’s warning: “Leave right away, Maomao.”
Just as Maomao took a step, the man grabbed her arm.
How rude—touching me so suddenly!
Maomao cursed him inwardly.
She turned around and met the sight of the man’s strange, twisted grin. Maomao frowned.
“Let go of me, sir,” Her voice wasn’t fearful or panicked, but she also didn’t want to provoke him.
“Wanna have some fun with me?” he said with a smirk.
“Sir, I must go,” Maomao replied, trying to pry his hand off with her own. But he didn’t let go.
Instead, he gripped her more tightly and pulled her toward him—faster than she had expected. He dragged her toward the wall. Maomao couldn’t believe what was happening. When she tried to flee, there was no space—his body blocked her way.
“Verdigris courtesans are really beautiful,” he commented, staring at her face.
“Sir, I can scream,” Maomao warned. It was a threat—a bluff.
“Then I won’t let you,” he said as he swiftly grabbed both her hands. His face leaned closer.
Maomao turned her head away. She knew he was about to try kiss her.
She didn’t want to cause trouble by hurting him. He was an official—he could easily accuse her of assault and demand compensation. Whether money or servitude, it would cost her.
“Sir, please stop." Maomao pleaded, panic rising in her voice. Her tone was louder but still not a scream.
Maomao close her eyes. She made up her mind, she will try to step on his feet to escape.
Then suddenly, the man let her go—abruptly, as if someone had forced him to.
Maomao hadn’t noticed what happened; she’d had her eyes shut for a moment.
Her hands were free. She took a breath and looked around to see what had happened.
A tall man stood beside her, gripping the shoulder of the bastard official, a displeased expression on his face.
It was a surprisingly stern look for such a handsome face. His brows furrowed; his gaze sharp.
“What do you think you’re doing? That’s harassment, isn’t it?” he asked firmly. Though his features were gentle, he exuded strength—a man with a sense of justice.
The drunk man looked at him, slightly startled. Maybe he recognized something about this new presence.
“Sir Jinshi...”
“We were just having fun...” he avoided it.
“I heard the lady’s voice—it didn’t sound like consent. It sounded frightened,” he said firmly, already having judged the situation.
“I’ll leave—I didn’t do anything,” the man said quickly. He pulled himself free from man’s grip and walked off hastily, disappearing around a corner.
The man remained by Maomao’s side.
He looked at her. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softer now.
Maomao nodded. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said.
Maomao looked at him. His face seemed familiar.
Maybe it's just similar. After all, his name was Jinshi—he was not respected like high-ranking and walking around without a guard.
He smiled. "Do you-..."
The courtesan from earlier walked over. Her voice was husky enough that Maomao turned to look.
“You’re still here?” the woman asked.
“Yes. Let’s go back together,” Maomao said.
Maomao bowed to the man and left with her friend.
What a chaotic part-time work this had been...
Her charm magic sometimes brought both advantages and disadvantages.
But she simply accepted it.
The cat spirit within her told her she could use magic to block evil intentions, but she didn't think about that.
She just hoped to go home and rest soon. At least after a banquet like this, Maomao could stay the night at Verdigris and sleep in a soft bed with her sister.