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It must have been the residual effects from that mushroom, Maomao thinks, cursing her impulsivity. Why did she leave that note? He’d made it quite clear that he wanted to go home to his wife. All the palace gossip even said he was a total pushover when it came to Taomei. And why wouldn’t he want to go home? Especially knowing what she now knew. Master Gaoshun is not a eunuch. Master Jinshi is not a eunuch. Six years of pretending to be unmanned? What would that do to one’s psyche? Was it any wonder that Gaoshun would stoop to kiss a nobody like her? Was it any wonder that Jinshi – no the Moon Prince – seemed unstable? Seemed to harbor more than one soul in that heavenly body.
Just who was the man to whom she’d so unthinkingly sold her contract?
Maomao paces the kitchen at the Jade Pavilion. She hopes, she fears that Gaoshun shows up. She will be relieved if he does, relieved if he does not. She should have destroyed these mushrooms. It is not too late. Or. She could save them. Eat them all herself. For science. She preps her ingredients. Does not cook them. Makes a cold remedy. Paces. The appointed hour comes and goes. Maomao is. . . disappointed. She hungers for something she cannot describe. There is a feeling behind her eyes, like a cracking dam. Like something trying to escape. She will not let it. She will not feel. She will forget any of this ever happened. That she ever succumbed to an impulse and invited a married man to take drugs with her. Her life will go on. Her work will go on.
But. . . If Master Gaoshun will not come. There is still something she can do for him. Maomao packs up her supplies. Carefully puts the mushrooms away in her room where no one else will accidentally eat them. Goes to bed. Lies awake the entire night. Eyes dry, staring at the herbs hanging to dry from the ceiling as if they hold the answer.
~o~o~o~
Gaoshun regards the note. There is a strange, sad longing in his belly. In another world. In another place, another life, he could go. Explore what might happen between a man and a woman in their positions when inhibitions are lowered. But he has a wife he loves. He has a duty. A young, demanding master with hungry eyes. And he will not.
That is not to say he cannot make use of the fungi she so kindly left him. He thinks he should perhaps save some for use interrogating prisoners. But he also will not do that. Instead, Gaoshun goes home to his wife.
Confesses to her his small infidelity. He makes no excuses. It is not his way. Accepts her harsh words, her sharp nails across his cheek, swallows her rage and her doubts and her fears without complaint. He does love Taomei despite their differences, and she, he knows, loves him, despite herself.
There is more than enough room in his heart to let a seed of fondness, small like a fungal spore, grow into love for another. Is there in hers?
It is only after the recriminations and the negotiations and the solace, that he tells Taomei of a treasonous fungus. One that lets a man acting as a eunuch to be a man, in the right circumstances. If she wishes. She does wish. Wishes to exorcise his infidelity by reminding him what was, what is, what will be. Rather than what simply might be, should a small seed of fondness be nurtured.
He gives Taomei the remaining mushrooms for safekeeping. Only she will be allowed to control when he may be a man. It is best that way.
Taomei is thoughtful as the sun rises the next day. Perhaps it is time to meet this apothecary who planted a small seed like a fungal spore in her diligent, taciturn, always-before-now-faithful husband’s heart. Or maybe, she just wants her husband to come home to her, for good. Put her needs over that of the spoiled prince. For once.
“Please, end this charade, Goashun. You must convince the Moon Prince to take a wife.” Despite the please, Taomei has not phrased it as a plea, but as a command.
“As you wish.” Gaoshun bows to his wife, takes his leave to return to the prison that is the Rear Palace. He will try his best; it has not been good enough so far. He knows he has been a disappointment to Taomei, cannot find it within him to fault her for her blame.
He returns to the Rear Palace to begin the process of rooting out the poisonous growths from the grounds. The apothecary. Xiaomao. She barely acknowledges his presence. It stings. He deserves it. He is a selfish man. A moment’s weakness. It will not happen again. She does not make reference to the mushrooms, or his failure to show. Her voice is cool, monotone. Her eyes shadowed and . . . sad. Gaoshun does not like to see their little cat sad. But what is he to do? The reality is that she is trapped. A captured pawn and they both know it. He does not, however, expect her next move. She passes him a folded note along with her summary report of the funeral, her evidence leading to the discovery of consort Jin, the disposal of the toxic fungi in the palace.
“Please, deliver this to your master.” She cannot bring herself to say his name. Or his real title.
The note is not sealed. Gaoshun opens it. Reads, meets her grim, determined look with a worried one of his own.
“Are you sure?”
“It seems the fastest way.”
“It was not an order.” His voice is gentle, Kind. Maomao does not want to hear gentle, does not want to hear kind. When has the world ever been gentle or kind?
It is the same note she left for him the day before.
Gaoshun understands what she is trying to do. He knows, she is doing it for him, and not because she has any particular feelings for Zui. Because he told her he just wanted to go home to his wife, and that the sooner she gave in the sooner the farce would end. Gaoshun feels his heart breaking, just a little. But she is just a woman, and this is the way of the world. He should not care. He will not think of the hours whiled away in that cheerful medical office. He will not think of her fingers on his face, his lips on hers.
He delivers the note. Jinshi doesn’t understand the reference. But he is always delighted to see what his toy has to show him. Gaoshun just barely holds back his grimace.
Gaoshun makes sure there are well-trained eunuch guards posted that night. Well-trained and discreet. Jinshi is not allowed to go anywhere in the Rear Palace at night without guards. If he is going to let convince unintentionally command his apothecary to poison the crown prince with mushrooms that may as well be aphrodisiacs, the least he can do is make sure no one else gets caught in the crossfire. They will keep their mouths shut regardless of what may transpire between a prince and a woman.
Maomao has six mushrooms. She is not sure how many to feed Jinshi. She suspects three would be overkill. She eats two before he even arrives. Raw, because there is no point to enjoying them. Despite their nutty flavor, they still taste like ashes to her.
She has a job to do.
Jinshi is curious as he approaches the Jade Pavilion. He did not understand the look Gaoshun gave him when passing the note. He does not understand where his aide has gone; the older man rarely passes up on the visits to the Jade Pavilion, much as he disparages Jinshi’s eagerness. What does his apothecary have up her sleeve?
“Master Jinshi.” Maomao bows her usual not quite low enough bow, and ushers the not-a-eunuch into the heat and light of the small kitchen. She has memorized her lines. “I know you were disappointed last fall when I could not find you any matsutakes. But while hunting for medicinal mushrooms this week, I found a rare delicacy growing on the grounds. I thought to make amends by offering you some of these by way of apology.”
Jinshi had nearly forgotten about the matsutake incident. That she remembered! That she wanted to make amends! His heart almost leapt from his chest with joy. But. . .
“Are you sure these are safe?” Admittedly, she doesn’t look nearly gleeful enough for them to be poisonous, but with this woman, it does not hurt to check.
“They are not poison. We have tested them and found them delicious.” Maomao avers. Safe? Well, safe is in the hands of the user. She does not believe it will be safe for her chastity. She doubts very much that will matter to a son of heaven such as the celestial not-a-maiden that stands before her.
She turns and proceeds to cook the delicate mushrooms while the inquisitive and awfully sheltered young man hovers over her shoulder. She is trying desperately hard not to glare at him; she must see this through, but finally when she almost burns her hand due to his distracting presence, she turns her full “drowned worm in a puddle” scowl at him.
Jinshi is in raptures and he hasn’t even tasted the snack yet. Maomao’s scowl only intensifies.
She assembles the dish. Cuts each mushroom in half and takes a piece of each for herself. It is her job as poison tester after all. She wonders if cooking will change the mushroom’s properties any? Well, perhaps she should not have eaten the raw ones earlier if she really wanted to find out.
The preparation is exquisite. Jinshi lets the flavor burst in his mouth, each bite full of textures, the slippery flesh transforming into an elastic chew. The intense aroma and mushroom flavor, delicately accented by the sauce. He has found another reason to love Maomao. He wonders if he should bring Maomao back to his pavilion to help Suiren with meals. No. That would be a waste of her other talents.
She does not seems to be enjoying the meal as much as he. “Apothecary? Is there something wrong?”
“No, what could be wrong?” Maomao quickly cleans up the mess. She is at a loss for what is supposed to come next. She does not want to be deflowered in a kitchen of all places. “Would you care to take a walk, sir? The moon is bright tonight?”
Jinshi is very confused. Maomao never takes initiative. Never spends more time in his presence than absolutely necessary. He is not going to pass up this opportunity. He smiles beatifically and places a hand on her lower back. “Lead the way, apothecary!”
Maomao’s shudder of disgust is very palpable beneath his hand, yet she does not pull away. Curiouser and curiouser. For all his sparkle, Jinshi is not the brightest star in the sky, but even he can pick up on mixed signals. He pays close attention (when does he ever not?) to Maomao’s words and actions as they stroll deeper into less populated areas of the Rear Palace.
In desperation for anything to say, Maomao has started describing what fungi she has found where and what their uses are. She can’t help thinking that if Master Gaoshun were here she wouldn’t have to say anything at all. She could just walk in comfortable silence. Nope, can’t think of that. That will never be.
The pressure behind her eyes has only grown. She feels as if her eyes have grown hot. Is this an effect of the fungus? She stops, concerned that perhaps she really has poisoned her master. She’d best remind him then. Just in case.
“Master Jinshi. Please remember, if I am to be executed, that I would like you to consider poison, please.”
“Apothecary, what has brought this on? Are you feeling alright? Here, you don’t look so well. Please sit down.” Jinshi is frantic with worry. He cannot stand it when Maomao talks so dispassionately about her own death. As if she constantly worries about being executed for the slightest misstep. He ushers Maomao to a seat on a stone bench overlooking a small ornamental pool. The moon casts a bright light over the water. Almost enough for him to see her face. She looks so sad. As sad as Jinshi has ever seen the strange girl. She is normally so good at hiding her true thoughts. Overcome with sympathy, Jinshi sits beside her. Starts to rub her back. He would do anything to make her smile. Or even glare at him like an upside-down cockroach with its legs ripped off.
He has no idea what to make of her next words.
“Please sir, if I may be so bold as to make another request, don’t be kind to me. Just treat me like the pawn I am.”
What? It has been too long since he let himself think her a pawn. Not since he retrieved her from the brothel. Not since she saved him from the assassination attempt. He wants to give her a hug. All the hugs that he craved as a child and never received. All the hugs his position does not allow him to give or receive even now. Something to try to ease her pain. He reaches out, holds her close to his chest as if she were a small child. She is awfully small in his arms. Rocks her like he would have liked to have been rocked when he was a boy, when everyone was so busy trying to make him grow up as fast as possible. Rubs her back. She feels so very fragile in his arms.
Maomao, his Maomao, bursts into tears. Not quiet streaming down your face polite tears, but big hiccupping snotty sobs she tries to hide in his shoulder. Maomao never cries. He has never once before seen her sad, melancholy, or any of that range of human emotions. Irritated, cranky, bored, cold, emotionless, gleeful, stoic, yes. Mostly irritated, if he’s honest, but never before tonight sad. He does not know what to do. At all. He is a little worried what someone might think should they find them here. He does not want to send her back to the Jade Pavilion, not like this. She should not be alone. Jinshi makes up his mind. Stands up, picks up the limp and unprotesting Maomao and starts to walk. As soon as he is able to, he catches the eye of one of his ever-present guards, summons him, whispers some instructions in his ear, and continues on his way. The guard takes off at a run.
Jinshi’s robe is absolutely soaked in Maomao’s snot and tears by the time he makes it back to his palace. It is probably ruined. He cannot bring himself to care. The girl is so light it felt like he was carrying a ghost. At least her sobs have settled into occasional hiccups. She has yet to speak, but he can feel her fist clinging to the front of his robe. He dearly wishes for an explanation.
“Oh! Young master!” Suiren, forewarned by the messenger he sent, is waiting when he arrives home. “What has happened?!”
“I don’t know!” Jinshi is beside himself. Reluctantly he sets Maomao down. She will not meet his gaze. Nor Suiren’s. Suiren tries to force tea upon them. Rice cakes. Jinshi paces. Maomao hugs herself like she is longing to disappear. It should be a relief when Gaoshun appears. Gaoshun always knows what to do. Even when Zuigetsu refuses to follow his advice. It somehow is not.
Gaoshun’s sharp eyes take in the scene, His frown deepens, knowingly. He sniffs the air, long and deep, like a hunting dog. Tears he could almost understand. The Emperor’s concubines (he was once told by a gossipy eunuch) frequently cried after the Emperor’s first nighttime visit. At least until Maomao’s manuals started making the rounds. He would not have expected tears from Maomao, unless Zui was too eager and she was too unprepared. He refuses to think about what he would have done to prepare her in the Moon Prince’s place. While their clothes are slightly disheveled, they are not disheveled in the way that sex normally leads to. There is no scent of sweat or musk in the air. He is relieved. He knows he should not be. It means Maomao failed in her self-appointed task.
“How many did you eat, sir? No, more to the point, Xiaomao, how many did you?”
“He had two.” Maomao murmurs, regarding a loose thread on her sleeve, very intently. “Myself, four.”
Gaoshun rubs his forehead brutally hard. This is all his fault.
“Wait, so I did eat poison?” Jinshi is lost.
“No,” Gaoshun demurs, “You don’t even have a nosebleed. Just how bad is your circulation, sir?” Jinshi is still lost.
“Xiaomao, emetics?” Gaoshun is using his best ‘coax out the stray kitten’ voice on her. Everyone notices.
“I ate the first two several hours ago.” Maomao demurs, “Probably too late for me. May as well give some to Master Jinshi, though he seems remarkably unaffected.”
“What is it?” Jinshi almost wants to stamp his foot like a toddler.
“Emetics first.” Gaoshun is firm. He reaches into Maomao’s hanfu with hands that seem to Jinshi to know too well where she stores her supplies. “Xiaomao, how much?”
“For master Jinshi, about a fifth of the pouch.” Maomoa sniffles, “I may as well take the rest. Just in case.” She is now reaching a state of deep embarrassment. She hasn’t cried since she was less than a year old. Hasn’t felt embarrassment in over a decade. Truly these mushrooms are terrifying things.
Gaoshun briskly administers to Jinshi, then Maomao. More tea is passed around by a very disapproving Suiren.
“Xiaomao, would you care to explain what just happened?” Gaoshun would really rather be anywhere but here.
Maomao rubs her eyes, slaps her cheeks, fixes her face as best she can.
“Master Jinshi, Moon Prince, Master Gaoshun informed me yesterday that I was not properly performing my duty as your duly contracted courtesan. The fungi that we ate, besides being delicious, can act to lower inhibitions and improve blood flow. They were intended to help me in the performance of my duties.” She cannot meet the eyes of anyone in the room. “I’m sorry, Master Gaoshun. I failed.” She does not know what happened, she just knows she is about to cry again. That hot feeling behind her eyes is back, the pressure. A tear slips down her cheek. She reaches up one numb finger to swipe through it, taste the salty liquid. “Funny, I haven’t cried since I was a baby. What is even the point of it?”
Jinshi’s brain stalled out when she called him by his euphemistic name. The glare he shoots Gaoshun could shatter bricks.
“Gaoshun, setting aside the fact that you told her something I explicitly commanded you not to, what exactly did you tell her about her “duties?””
But Gaoshun is not listening. He cannot stand to watch Maomao cry anymore than Jinshi could. He cannot stand that it is his fault. If only he had not kissed her, none of this would have happened. If only he had been stronger. But he was weak when it comes to women and stray cats; is weak. He pulls Maomao into his embrace; soon his robes too will be absolutely ruined. Like Jinshi, he could not care less.
It is Suiren who purses her lips at the ridiculous goings on. “Young Master, I believe what everyone in this room is saying, is that we are all tired of this farce. You are not a eunuch. Gaoshun is clearly not a eunuch. We would rather you just hurry up and end this charade. That there is a girl for whom you clearly have feelings. Any other young man your age would have acted on them. It appears those two were trying to speed things along.”
“Only, Maomao doesn’t have feelings for me.” Jinshi feels numb. She took a massive dose of inhibition lowering fungi just to try to force herself to seduce him. Badly.
“She doesn’t not have feelings for you.” Suiren persists.
But her assertion falls flat. Jinshi is not an idiot. He sees the way Maomao is tucked into Gaoshun’s robes, her unhappy face relaxing slightly. Sees the gentle way Gaoshun is stroking her hair.
“But why didn’t they have any effect on me?” He wonders to keep from focusing on the easy intimacy his two servants are sharing – a sight that he most definitely does not want to be seeing right now.
“Because you were already doing what you wanted to be doing in the moment.” Gaoshun sighs. “It was my mistake. I told her, if she fed them to you she’d need to be prepared for a lot more than. . .”
“A lot more than what?” Jinshi has a very bad feeling.
“More than a kiss.”
“My fault.” Maomao murmurs. “I should have fed him all the mushrooms, and taken actual aphrodisiacs myself. Next time I’ll think it through better. I’m sorry, Master Gaoshun.”
“I told you already, it wasn’t an order.” Gaoshun’s arms tighten around the infuriating cat.
“Is this, is this all some sort of bad prank?” Jinshi wishes very much that it is, “Is the master strategist going to jump out from around the corner and scream ‘boo’?” He understands the clear implication that Gaoshun had kissed his apothecary under the influence of a much smaller dose of this ‘medicine’ than he was given. He wishes he had not.
Suiren sighs heavily, walks over, drops a knuckle firmly on Maomao’s head. She does not care if the girl has feelings for another. How hard could it have been to seduce the lovely young man she raised? He is so ripe for the plucking.
“I wonder if the higher dose of mushrooms causes emotions, or if they lowered my inhibitions enough to feel things I’ve been repressing since infancy?” Maomao’s brain-mouth filter has slipped again; she has turned her thoughts inward rather than face the humiliation of the night. “Maybe I actually need to take more to actually be able to seduce a man? Hmm. Master Gaoshun, may I go harvest some more?”
Everyone one in the room stares at her, as one they respond, “No!”
Maomao sighs, wiggles out of Gaoshun’s grasp, prostrates herself at Jinshi’s feet. “Please remember sir. Poison!”
“Do you think I would execute you for not having sex with me?” Jinshi is blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.
“It is your right. Your right as well, to command me.”
Will she never tire of pointing that out? He’s not about to command her to sleep with him. He wants to woo her, win her over. It is proving harder than he thought.
Fine then, if he is to command her. “Maomao, for your punishment, you will go home with Gaoshun and explain to his wife, Taomei what you have done with Gaoshun and to myself.” He is sad and angry and jealous, and knows what an avenging demon his milk mother Taomei can be. They have clearly transgressed against him, and her. This seems fitting. He will find another way to woo her. Later.
Maomao climbs off the floor. Bows low, turns to Gaoshun.
“Master Gaoshun, big sister Pairen taught me many ways of pleasing a woman. Do you think your wife would appreciate a demonstration by way of apology for our actions?” No one in Verdigris House was immune to Pairen’s insatiable appetities. As a result, Maomao is very experienced in pleasing a woman compared to her more theoretical knowledge of men. She has no qualms about making this offer. Even if she weren’t overdosed on poorly tested fungi.
Gaoshun bites his lip, hard. He will not be able to stop picturing this. By Jinshi’s blush, nor can he.
“Come, Xiaomao,” He invites, “Let us find out.”
Fin