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Sometimes Basen resented his name. From birth he was destined to serve the royal family. Baryou had so far wiggled out of the responsibility, anxiousness locking away his brilliance, so Basen had stepped up. He knows without his family name, he still likely would have been a foot soldier, maybe proven himself by rising through the ranks instead of this crushing responsibility. There was a sword over his head, and Jinshi held the hilt.
But now, looking at the corpse in front of him, well at least his life hadn’t lead to this. The man, Wěi, was in his mid-thirties, and had recently moved from the Shi providence into the capital, where he begged to join the palace staff. He had failed the civil examination, and was unfit for the military, so as a last resort he offered himself up as a eunuch. There was a ban on the surgery but for practicality purposes it was only enforced on children; on adults, it was allowed so long as the surgeons explained the ramifications of the operations. The man agreed, even signed off on paper, and went under the knife.
The lead doctor and his assistants were all experienced field medics, practiced hands at the procedure. Yet despite their careful stitches, the man died from blood loss- rapid to the point of suspicion.
Typically they would call Luomen to investigate, but Lihua was on the verge of giving birth to her second son; calling him in to examine a cadaver was untenable. “A palace full of this nation’s brightest scholars, and yet we have a shortage of doctors,” Jinshi muttered. They needed someone with medical experience, but without connections to the surgeons. Basen could feel his father’s eyes boring a hole into his head.
“I think I know someone who could help,” He said begrudgingly, and Jinshi’s eyebrow’s shot up.
“Oh? Who do you suggest?”
“Luomen’s apprentice,” Basen said flatly, hoping the questions ended there. He hated lying, especially to Jinshi, but the situation was embarrassing to talk about.
“He certainly needs the help, how come I’ve never met this apprentice?”
“She still needs to pass the court lady exam,” Basen replied. The truth was her parents were adamant about keeping her away from the imperial palace, even going so far as to send her on trips to avoid obligations.
“Fine, use my carriage, and I’ll get special dispensation for her to enter the palace.”
-☘︎-
There was a new pair of sculptures in front of the La estate. Joining the bench-sized Go stones were a pair of stone animals: a standard fox and a nine-tailed huli jing smiled at the entrance, modeled after more traditional guardian sculptures. Basen took a second look at the fox; of course it was holding a Go stone.
The La clan’s longtime guard, Alvaro let Basen in, and he foolishly hoped only Maomao was home, or at least Fengxian. She could be reasoned with, Lakan would chase him out as soon as he tried to explain the case. And Lahan, well Maomao had once charitably diagnosed her brother with “chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome”.
“Basen?” Lahan called from another room.
“Yes, I’m here to see Maomao,” he answered. Foot, meet trap.
“You finally came a’calling?” The eyebrow wiggling was unnecessary. When they were around twelve, Lahan had tried to sell his sister out for pocket money, resulting in a shoulder check into the koi pond. Since then Basen had a hunch that Lahan calculated the monetary worth of everyone he met -and would still sell her out for loose change.
“Look, my master needs Luomen’s help with a… incident but he’s on-call for the High Consort.” Basen explained through gritted teeth.
“Fine, but don’t expect Maomao’s help for free; I’ll send an invoice.” Lahan said wagging his finger. The shorter man led Basen to an annex building, the La clan’s private stock of medicinal herbs.
Inside Maomao stood over the mortar and pestle, packages of prepared medicine beside her. She was dressed in simple a simple outfit, sleeves pushed up, closer in fashion to her uncle’s daily garb than that of a noble lady, humming as the pestle rotated under her hands. She has a nice voice he though, before doubling over in a fake cough to hide his blush.
“Are you alright?” Maomao looked up, and Basen waved her off.
“Yes, I’m fine. just a bit of dust,” he cleared his throat, then continued, “My master needed help with investigating a strange medical case,” he said, and then explained the details of the eunuchs death. “Do you have any ideas?… or do you need to see for your self.”
“are you sure the man was not coerced?” He shook his head.
“The surgeon said he explained the surgery and its side-affects in excruciating detail. But the man seemed desperate for work.”
“The victim could have been a hemophiliac,” Maomao muttered turned around to ace the shelves of herbs, “maybe he agreed without knowing he had the condition, but it’s highly improbable. But there’s a number of anti-coagulants that could caused him to hemorrhage” So Jinshi was right to be suspicious. “Are they in the process of conducting an autopsy, checking his digestive system for poison?”
“I’m not sure if my master could stomach observing that.” Maomao sighed.
“My uncle trained me not to suggest conjecture as fact. I’ll like to take a look at the victim and his belongings, see if I could find evidence.”
“Fine. But what do want to tell your parents?” Basen asked. The market had been closed as of yesterday to prepare for the start of the lunar festival.
“I could say we’re going to see a lovely performance at the Verdigris House,” Basen crossed his arms, and squinted at her. “Or we just leave, and let Lahan scramble for an excuse.”
“Let’s go with the second option.”
-☘︎-
Basen should have walked back to the rear palace alone. He knew we was awkward with women, even family members, and the self-awareness exacerbated the problem. They had known each other since they were small children, but playtime normally revolved around taking orders from his older sister Maamei. Maamei’s favorite “game” was Queen and assassins; she would play queen, Maomao the poisoner, and Basen was soldier or guard or whatever the day’s story required. Normally the “victim” was a fencing dummy, but sometimes Maamei would play the assassin just to smack around their father. Anyway, as the got older, conversations became more stilted, almost like the two of them forgot how to be friends. The last time their families gathered together Maomao spent the dinner listening to his brother’s wife, Chue.
He had spent the carriage ride caught up his own thoughts, but as they drew close, Maomao craned her neck to get a closer look at the gates. When the carriage came to a stop, Basen stepped out, straightening his posture. “I have a valued guest with me to the outer palace” he said to the guard, “that Master Jinshi should issued clearance for.” The guard nodded, and left to check with his superior; when everything was on order, the same guard signaled to let in the carriage.
Maomao gave him a look. Basen had deepened his voice, done his best to convey authority, and evidently she found it funny. “Who is your master anyhow?”
“He is the manger of the rear palace; the victim would have become one of his workers,” don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask-
“I thought the Ma clan guarded the royal family members.” Damnit. At least he had an excuse at the ready; Lakan had asked the same question once, and he'd floundered until his father came to the rescue.
“For the time being I’m training in the outer palace; when the Crown prince is older I’ll likely get assigned to him. The imperial brother is a shut-in, so my father was reassigned as aide to Jinshi.”
He picked up the pace, forcing Maomao to jog instead of prod further and led her to the mortuary; by this point, they must have moved the victim. “As far as master Jinshi knows, you’re the good doctor’s apprentice, not his niece,” Basen said before he opened the door for her.
His father had left; Jinshi was sitting alone, reading through paperwork and it took a second for him to look up. But as soon as he did, the mask snapped into place: transforming from friend to god. He looked straight at Maomao and smiled seductively, leaning his face on his fist as his eyes ran over her.
“Why hello,” he purred, and Maomao full-body shuddered, retreating backward; her elbow knocking into Basen’s chest. Shit, he forgot to warn her about that.
“Could you please direct my friend to the victim,” he said in a curt tone. Still smiling -didn’t he get that was strange, smiling to see a corpse?- Jinshi led them to cellar; he seemed to float down the steps.
The two men stayed close to the stairwell, leaving Maomao to examine the corpse closer by lamplight. “He seems to have suffered from liver damage” she observed, “he was sick beforehand, the yellow sallowness may be jaundice.” Then she sniffed at the air. “Do either of you smell that?” All Basen could smell was the copper tang of blood, but Jinshi stepped forward, and copied Maomao, or more accurately a hound.
“You’re right, why do I smell spices?” Jinshi confirmed.
“Definitely cinnamon,” Moamao said, and examined the man’s hands. “there’s crumbs left on his hands; he must have eaten something right before the surgery. Can we check his belongings for leftovers?” Jinshi nodded, and they went to the temporary dorms of the eunuchs. After some questions, like had he socialized with anyone? No, the man was stand-offish, they were led to the victim’s bunk; at the foot of the bed was a travel pack that hopefully no one else rifled through. Basen took the pack and dumped it out onto the sheets; the contents consisted of clothes, blank paper, silver coins and a bag that smelled strongly of cinnamon.
Maomao snatched up the bag, and before Basen could react, took a big bite of the moon-cake. Her wide grin was downright obscene.
Basen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Spit that out,” he growled, and she shook her head in refusal, rolling her eyes.
“One bite isn’t going to kill me,” she said with her mouth full. Jinshi grabbed another moon cake, and split it in half, examining the filling. “There’s other herbs in this besides cinnamon,” he pointed out, showing the filling to Maomao.
“Fine,” she grumbled, spitting the rest into a napkin. “But I now have a clearer picture of what happened. I still don’t think one cake is enough to produce the adverse effects, but judging from the signs of liver damage, he must have had at least one bagful of the cakes. The cassia cinnamon, and perhaps some of the other herbs, are anti-coagulants at high doses. That’s the key, it’s the dose that makes this poison. ”
“This amount of cinnamon should have multiplied the price of the moon-cakes,” Jinshi observed.
“The man still had the means to buy them,” Maomao said, gesturing at the silver coins. “But perhaps it was an error in the baking process. Perhaps he stress-ate them, or perhaps they were meant to be shared. So yes he ate a fatal amount of poison, but I can’t attribute it to malice or ignorance.” Jinshi went silent for a moment, staring down at the man’s belongings. Why had he become a eunuch? He could write, he had silver, what had happened?
“Enough,” Jinshi said, and they quietly put the victim’s belongings back in the pack to be buried alongside him. “Thank you for your insight, it may have raised more questions than answers, but I now have a solid lead, and can clear the surgeons of suspicion.” Jinshi fished out a coin pouch from his robes, and handed it to Maomao. “Basen said you were Luomen’s apprentice, so this is worth a day of his wages.” She looked up, and smiled gratefully at him.
“Thank you, there’s some rare medicine I’ve been meaning to buy for experiments.” He would have to warn her brother later.
Jinshi smiled back -a real smile, not the nymph act-and then looked her head to smirk at Basen.
“But he didn’t mention your name,” Maomao cringed, her eye’s flickering to meet Basen, unsure what to say.
“Maomao,” she said, ducking her head into a bow.
“Maomao,” Jinshi crooned and Maomao scowled as if a cockroach had just skittered into her medicine. “Yes, my dear friend has mentioned you before, but I cannot recall the context.” Fuck. Off. “Would you care to enlighten me?”
To her credit, Maomao didn’t flinch from the truth; after all, the consequences would land square on Basen’s head.
“Basen’s my fiancé; we’ve been betrothed since I was about eight.” What was left unsaid, was that she’s the La clan’s princess. Lakan had gushed about her in meetings, his precious little girl; perpetually six instead of her current age of sixteen.
“I need to bring her back,” Basen said quickly, hand on Maomao’s back to guide her to the exit.
“Alright, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Jinshi said in a singsong tone and then kissed her hand. Behind her back she wiped her hand. Jinshi was hamming it up, well aware of the fact Basen couldn’t smack him.
“but this conservation isn't over Basen.”
-☘︎-
The carriage ride back was somehow more stifling. Maomao would occasionally look up at Basen as if to ask question, and then would hold her tongue. “Whatever it is you want to ask, I can promise you’re better off in the dark” he snapped, finally letting out his frustration.
“I see,” she said coldly, and it was one of those moments she resembled her mother. He sighed, rubbing his face.
“Sorry," he said sincerely, not meaning to take it out on her. "I’ll follow up on the case until the final report.” The icy expression melted away to thoughtfulness.
“Actually, could you let me know about another other suspicious deaths in the palace, especially poisonings.” He frowned.
“Can’t you ask Doctor Luomen?” She shook her head.
“He’s trained me on the ways of the apothecary, but he never talks about his work at the palace” she said bitterly.
“I’ll see what I can find,” he promised, just as the carriage door open.
“Thank you,” she said, holding her skirts carefully as she stepped out. She turned around, and smiled softly at him, then the door swung shut. She could topple kingdoms with that smile.
-☘︎-
It was rare for Jinshi to drink; when possible, he and Basen would switch cups, and Basen would discretely dispose of the liquor if possible and chug it if not. But for once Basen welcomed the drink, wishing he could have enough to forget today.
“At ease Basen. I didn’t call you to reprimand you, at least not as your superior,” Jinshi said, leaning back.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you,” he said as the truth rushed out of him in a breath, “but Lakan wants to keep Maomao away from the palace; I would be the only one getting in trouble.”
“I figured, the excuses were getting outlandish.” Jinshi said. With a contemplative look, he ran a finger along the rim of the glass, making it sing, and said, “do you remember your first hangover?” Basen’s cheeked burned. Yes, he remembered that hellish morning, -but not the night before.
“That was the one only time you talked about having a fiance; you moaned that she was more interested in medicine then you” Jinshi said, and Basen groaned, unwilling to hear the rest. “Then I believe you said she was pretty, said I was pretty and proposed to me as a way to get out of the match.”
“You’re on your own at the next party, that’s poison” he said shoving the glass at him, and Jinshi looked amused.
“Speaking of which, do you think I can hire Maomao as Luomen’s assistant?” Jinshi said, and to Basen’s surprise he seemed serious.
“Do you really want to pick that fight with Lakan?”
“I think I have to. Years after my birth, and we’re still short on doctors, as two consorts are pregnant once again. Yes, Lihua’s at least a month further along, but we need all the help we can get.”
“Maomao’s not a doctor,” Basen clarified, “Her uncle taught her about preparing medicine; poison she learned about as a hobby.” Jinshi tapped his fingers on the desk, still stuck on the idea.
“Well still an improvement over Guen,”he admitted, “In fact, we need someone to train the poison tasters.” Basen refrained from mentioning she would rather taste the food herself.
“Why do you really want to hire her?” Basen asked, crossing his arms.
“You know, I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me like her, with such derision.” Basen kept his face neutral; he didn’t want to know what would happen if he scowled the same way. “I’m trying to do you a favor; you’re set to be married, shouldn’t you two be closer?” Basen sighed, apparently his drunk self hadn’t explained the situation properly.
“We can end match at any time, if either of us finds another suitable partner before she turns 22.” he explained.
“Except you’re terrible at talking to women, and she’s only interested in poison.” Did Jinshi really need his front teeth?
“Yes," he gritted out, wanting to snap back oh, like you're any better?
“How did the match happen anyway?” Basen was not allowed to tell the real truth, and quite frankly Jinishi didn’t need to hear it.
“Her guard, Hailin, is somewhat friends with my father. Her parents were discussing possible matches for Maomao, and Hailin suggested me, said I would be a good husband if I turned out like my father.”
“He’s not wrong, I think I would have agreed to your proposal if that were the case,” Jinshi joked.
“If you tell Maomao that story,” Basen threatened, and Jinshi finally relented.
“No you’re not your father,” and Basen realized they still ventured far to close to a sore subject, “but you are my dearest friend all the same.” Jinshi slid the cup back to Basen.
“To being different from our fathers,” he said, lifting his glass.
“And to becoming good husbands,” Jinshi added, clinking his cup against Basen’s—just as Basen spat his wine in Jinshi’s face.
-☘︎-
Author’s Bad Toxicology: I already had a vague idea for this story, I just needed a mystery: low and behold, my library had a book with a very Maomao title: Most Delicious Poison. Rather early on, the author discuses how warfarin was invented: cattle were hemorrhaging from castration and a vet figured out it was because of a byproduct chemical in the fungus-infected clover they ate. The byproduct was later developed as anti-coagulant medication, and Warfarin is a later iteration of it; it was first marketed as a rat poison. That original compound, coumadin is rather common in plants, including cassia cinnamon. That’s were the science gets muddy, coumadin isn’t as dangerous as its derivatives, but there are warnings against ingesting too much cassia cinnamon.