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Chapter Text

Spoon still stuck in her mouth, Xiaolan resisted taking another swipe at the empty bowl in her hands to see if she could miracle another bite of the delicious ice cream she just had. Shisui finished leisurely wiping the countertop before snatching the spoon out of Xialon's mouth and then laughing at her puffed up cheeks at the loss of her treat. 

“I don't think you can get anything else out of it.” Shisui said good-naturedly, dropping the spoon with the other utensils Maomao used to make ice cream inside the bowl. 

Xiaolan turned red and stuck her tongue out to Shisui, who just laughed and went to the sink to start washing up. Usually Xiaolan would avoid childish behaviour as much as she could, it had never done her any favors either at home or at the Rear Palace washing station, but the most she ever got for it from Maomao or Shisui was a fond smile or a hand messing up her, respectively. So, Xiaolan didn't hesitate to indulge a little. 

“Hey, Shisui.” Xiaolan said, rolling up her sleeves as she approached her friend. “Do you think Master Jinshi liked the ice cream too?”

As they enjoyed their unplanned ice cream party with Lady Loulan's leftovers, Maomao had gotten another round of ingredients and ice along with a message. Master Jinshi, the Rear Palace manager, wanted some ice cream as well. Gritting her teeth, but unwilling to argue against a superior who had gotten her access to the kitchen, Maomao had beaten another bowl of ice cream like she was imagining it was a very handsome face instead and almost went ballistic when she was informed Master JInshi wanted it delivered by her own hand.

Of course, “almost going ballistic” just meant a narrowing of the eyes and clenched fists while her face remained carefully blank. Not everyone would notice, but Xiaolan, who liked to think of herself as a Maomao expert after more than a year of friendship, worried a little about the handsome eunuch's health.

Not the face, Maomao. Xiaolan thought as she inwardly lit a candle in her heart for Master Jinshi.

“Well, I know I did.” Shisui hummed, handing her some washed utensils so she could dry them. Licking her lips to chase the aftertaste, Xiaolan nodded. “I wish he didn't ask Maomao to deliver it, tho. She works too much already.”

“I think he just wanted to see her.” Xiaolan giggled, putting a hand on her cheek. “I think Maomao is lucky to have a handsome guy like Master Jinshi calling for her all the time, even if she likes to act prickly about it.”

Silently, she agreed with part of Shisui’s words. If Master Jinshi wasn't so handsome and courteous about it, Xiaolan would be very angry at him taking Maomao away all the time!

“‘Likes to act prickly about it?’ I think she is prickly about it.” Shisui said, smiling like the thought of Maomao's scary angry face was cute to her. Having seen her cooing over a praying mantis earlier that week, Xiaolan wouldn't put it past her. 

“Nah, Maomao acts all annoyed but, when Master Jinshi spends some time without asking for her help with stuff, she gets all bored about it!” Xiaolan paused her drying to shake a finger at Shisui, who giggled like she thought Xiaolan was cute as well. “I think she kinda misses him when he's not around.”

Shisui tilted her head. 

“Misses him? You make it sound like they have a torrid love affair or something.” She started chuckling at her own words but paused when she saw the face Xiaolan was making. “Something to share with the class?”

Xiaolan bits her lip, remembering rumors she heard around the Rear Palace and stuff she noticed by herself. She loved gossiping, there was no way she could deny it, but she avoided talking about Maomao and Shisui behind their backs. They were her friends! But if it's with Shisui, maybe it's fine? From friend to friend.

“You don't think they are? Having… a lo-love affair?” Xiaolan stuttered out. At Shisui's continued silence, she went on. “I mean, Master Jinshi is always after her for special tasks they never explain, calling her ‘apothecary’. No one else calls her that! It sounds like a pet name, don't you think it sounds like a pet name?”

“Well, she is an apothecary.” Shisui interjected, but once Xiaolan got started, she was impossible to be stopped. 

“And they were like that even before she became his servant! He was always around her! He gave her a hairstick out of his own hair !”

Oh, the hours Xiaolan spent building castles in her head after that juicy bit of gossip arrived on her hands from the rumor mill just to get a dry “it's just a pity hairstick” from Maomao after finally finding her. Then Maomao started gushing about the poison she had had at the banquet, nearly sending Xiaolan into an early grave, and they never broached the “hair stick” subject again. 

“And then she left along with a bunch of servant girls and Master Jinshi spent months barely showing up at the rear palace at all. But then Maomao is back, because he hired her as a personal servant, and he's just lending her to Lady Gyokuyou! Now, Master Jinshi is around all the time, going ‘apothecary, apothecary’ every time he sees her! That can't be a coincidence!”

Shisui opened her mouth, probably to make a quip about Master Jinshi's “apothecary radar”, as they dubbed his somehow supernatural ability to find her whenever he shows up at the rear palace grounds, but Xiaolan continued.

“Then, he borrowed her for a week out of the palace and no one knows what it's about, just that Lady Gyokuyou had to hire a temporary poison taster! When Maomao came back, she was the happiest I had ever seen!”

“That’s probably because of the ox bezoar stuff he got her on the trip.” Shisui said and both girls shuddered slightly, remembering their friend excitedly explaining how a bezoar was formed until Xiaolan had looked faint. 

“And who gets their servant a rare thing like that? A man in love!” Xiaolan gasped for breath, face red after her little rant. 

While she was catching up on air, Xiaolan waited patiently for Shisui to either agree or disagree. Honestly, she hoped she doubted it at least a little so Xiaolan could expose more of her observations. She had wanted to talk about it with someone for a while, but a shiver went down her spine at the thought of breaching the subject with Maomao or anyone that might let it slip back to her. Shisui, as always, surprised her.

“Eh, I hope it's not true.” She said blandly, turning her back on Xiaolan and picking up another spoon to wash. “I don't want Maomao to get with a guy she doesn't think she can say no to.”

Xiaolan scrunched her face. “I don't think Master Jinshi would force her to do something she really doesn't want to.”

“He just made her take him the ice cream personally. To the outer court.”

“As her lover! He wouldn't make her do something she doesn't want to do as her lover!” Xiolan said, flushing at saying “lover” out loud. 

Shisui chuckled at her red face. “And why do you think that?”

“Well, I've been here for a while, and Master Jinshi never had a rumor of taking advantage, even though a lot of women here would rather he would.” Xiaolan would know, she heard stuff in the servant women's quarters that left her unable to look at Master Jinshi's face for a week. “So, if Maomao is the first, it's because she's special to him.”

“But that's just rumors, we wouldn't know.” 

“Yeah, but if he didn't do anything bad and Maomao wants to spend time with him, I think Master Jinshi must be pretty good to her.” Xiaolan smile, giving Shisui a mock scolding look. “It's not nice to assume the worst of people, y'know? What does Maomao say again? No conjecting!”

Her friend giggled. “No conjectures .” 

Shisui gave her a soft look, one that made her feel all warm and tingly in a way her mother's soft dismissal and older sister's quiet disappointment never did. She did that often, just like Maomao: look at Xiaolan in a way that didn't make her feel weighted down, but rather made her straighten up. 

“Silly me, Xiaolan. You're right.” Shisui cheerfully agreed, handing her the last dish they were washing: the bowl. Somehow, finishing the dishes left Xiaolan feeling disappointed. “I knew Master Jinshi cared about our Maomao, but I didn't know it was that much…”

As Shisui trailed off, even though she was still smiling, her eyes went far away. Xiaolan didn't really like that look, it wasn't like when Shisui went into a bug-fuelled frenzy or when Maomao carried away talking about how many types of poisonous snakes lived around the capital. No, it was like wherever Shisui's mind wandered off to, it wasn't pleasant.  When Xiaolan tugged at her sleeve though, she came back.

“Anyway, Maomao is also always getting called by the Precious Consort, right? If she has her favor, I don't think Lady Gyokuyou would let the master of the Rear Palace do anything to a favored servant.” Shisui put a hand on her hip and put a finger up on her other hand. “Being a high consort has to have some privilege, right?”

Xiaolan almost drools thinking about the endless baozi high consorts must be able to get. “Right.”

“It would be a shame to see Maomao married to a noble, tho.” Shisui said, drying her hands with a kitchen rag. Gently, she grasped Xiaolan's hands and started doing the same to her. It felt nice. “You can't really run an apothecary shop from a noble's house.”

“They will work something out.” Xiaolan said confidently. In her mind, Maomao could do anything she set her mind to. Then, hesitantly, she called: “Hey, Shisui?”

“Hm?”

“Ca-Can eunuchs even get married? What about children?”

“Well, it's rare, but not everyone marries for children. Some marry for politics, some for love .” Shisui chuckled dryly. It was so uncharacteristic that it almost made Xiaolan flinch. “But sure, you can marry an eunuch if you don't mind not having children. Not like they can't have sex.”

Xiaolan's eyes almost jumped out of her head.

“Bu-but how? Don't you need… tha-that?” Maomao's surprise sex education class at the servant girl's school had almost permanently kicked Xiaolan's soul out of her body, but she could remember that much. 

Shisui shrugged. “Not really. It might even make the guy more creative, y'know. No one likes a guy with no imagina- nevermind.”

Wetting the dish rag under the sink, Shisui hurriedly tried to cool down Xiaolan's burning face before the girl collapsed. Xiaolan briefly thought about letting the darkness take her just to escape the conversation. 

“A-Anyways, at least we know Master Jinshi knows what Maomao likes! She gave her that ox bezoar she wouldn't stop talking about!” Again, both paused to reminisce on the whole afternoon Maomao spent talking about her prize, albeit Shisui a little more amusedly and Xiaolan a little horrifiedly. “And she even kept the pretty hairstick he gave to her at the garden party. She didn't even sell it!”

Yet . Maomao had said to her once, but Xiaolan was sure she didn't mean it. Probably. 

“I guess Master Jinshi does know how to please a woman, then.” Shisui said playfully, grasping Xiaolan's arm as starting to direct her to the exit of the kitchen. “At least one , I guess.”

“Right?!” Xiaolan puffed up, glad she made a girl as smart as Shisui see her point. 

“I have to get back to work. Walk you to the washing station?”

Xiaolan nodded. It was already late afternoon and it was unlikely there would be more work at this time. But then again, Xiaolan didn't know where Shisui worked, she always seemed to be everywhere help was needed with a smile on her face. It's probably because Shisui is super dependable, Xiaolan decided, so she's always on call. Shisui and Maomao were like that, competent people that were always needed everywhere. Xiaolan hoped to be a little bit more like them, one day. 

The two girls walk hand in hand to the washing station, giggling when they start swinging their arms together and stopping only once they receive a severe stare from a passing eunuch. Of course, they started swinging arms once the man was out of sight, Shisui even sticking her tongue out to his back, which made Xiaolan giggle even more.

I wish Maomao was here . Xiaolan thought. But it's okay, we can do this again another day. 

When they arrived at the washing station, it was almost empty. Shisui let go of Xiaolan.

“So, Maomao and Master Jinshi, huh?” Shisui said, voice low. Startled at the comeback of the topic, Xiaolan just nodded. “Honestly, I'm a bit jealous.”

“I get it, Shisui, I was a bit jealous before, too!” Xiaolan said, relieved her friend had a similar reaction. Thankfully, she let her crush on the Rear Palace Master go relatively easy.  “But we should be happy Maomao got such a nice man, not jealous of her.”

“It’s not her I'm jealous of.” Shisui smiled, but didn't elaborate even at Xiaolan's confused stare. “I'mma get going now.”

“Oh, okay.” Xiaolan said, letting a smile grow on her face. “Good night, Shisui, take care! See you soon!”

“Take care, Xiaolan.” Shisui said, a subdued smile on her face. She said nothing else before disappearing around the corner. 

Xiaolan hoped they could get ice cream again together soon.

Chapter Text

On a usual day, Ukyou was busy at best and ripping-his-hair-out stressed at worst, not that his face ever showed it. He was sure the Madam loved overworking him most out of all the manservants because of his laid-back demeanor and easy acceptance of whatever life threw at him, but as stressful as the work was, he didn't really feel like complaining. He had a roof over his head and the courtesans at the Verdrigris House were nice enough that it was the best place he had ever worked at. Also, being the head of manservants did have some perks.

So salty… Ukyou munched happily on a chicken skewer, walking around the town market after successful negotiations with the local vegetable supplier for the Verdigris House. Usually, old lady Yan was manning the stall, but today her mid-thirties daughter was taking care of the place instead. The new supply deal negotiation went twice as fast than it would otherwise and he even got a free bag of radishes as he left.

We can make stew with this and the leftover chicken today . He thought happily. It might even be enough to invite Mr…

Ukyou stopped walking, blinking rapidly before doing a half turn. He wondered if his old eyes were finally deceiving him but the more he looked, the less likely it seemed. 

There was a girl walking around the market, dressed up in silky clothing in shades of pink and delicate slippers. Her hair was done up in pretty braids and decorated with tasteful flower hairpins that looked like they could feed a mid ranking courtesan for a whole year. She walked with her head raised high and a lofty expression, like the bustling market was beneath her. She was, against all odds, Maomao, the Verdigris House's baby apothecary. 

She looked almost unrecognizable and he was pretty sure the get-up was the reason none of the pleasure district "acquaintances" (read: enemies) she accumulated over the years seemed to be approaching her. Ukyou himself wouldn't have recognized her if he hadn't seen her subjected to makeovers by her sisters in the rare occasions she didn't manage to hide away with her herbs and concoctions. 

His most recent memory consisted of her all dressed up as she went back to the palace, bought by a handsome noble who couldn't stop staring at her like she hung the stars in the sky. Was she on an assignment for him? It was the only conceivable reason for her to be clothed like that. Curious, his eyes scanned Maomao for a clue before something else caught his attention. 

Walking behind her was a young man. Going by his dirty clothes, dull hair, calloused hands and deep eyebags, he seemed to be a servant. He was a pudgy man, cheeks full and bulging like a squirrel's. At least they feed them at that palace , Ukyou thought. You wouldn't know that by looking at Maomao. But even though the guy was average enough, he had good bone structure, shiny eyes and a sweet smile, which placed him more on a “handsome guy” category than a “wouldn't look at twice” one. 

I hope this guy doesn't show up at work . A guy with a nice smile could cause a cold war behind a brothel's scenes and Ukyou didn't really want to break up a fight if the middle ranking courtesans saw him. As much as Pairin would whine, the guy didn't look like he could afford her. But what is he doing with Maomao?

Silently following them, Ukyou maintained enough distance to not be seen if they turned around suddenly. He fully believed that Maomao could take care of herself, but the last time they sent her on an errand alone she ended up kidnapped for months and stuck inside the palace. Not that they knew at first, his memories of that time consisted mostly of the tense buzz around the brothel and the Three Princesses’ anxiety. Mr. Luomen was the voice of reason, assuring all the workers that his daughter could handle herself, but they occasionally caught him shooting melancholic looks to Maomao's favored pestle and mortar.

Not wanting a repeat, Ukyou decided it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Ukyou couldn't hear Maomao and her mystery friend over the bustle of the market, so he paid attention to their faces as they moved through the streets. She was looking at a piece of paper in her hand, seemingly muttering to herself. The man was looking around the market like he had never seen such a place before, wide eyes almost sparkling.

The manservant's heart softened slightly. Working at the palace must not be easy and, even though the male servants of the outer palace seemed to have more freedom than the maidservants, it wasn't often that they would be seen out and about. The man also looked young, perhaps around Maomao's age. Not like he would have a lot of life experience, then. 

Maomao suddenly stopped around the very same stall Ukyou got his free radishes, eyes lighting up at the stout vegetables. Cute , Ukyou thought. Ever since she was a child, Maomao always got excited around food, as long as it was savory or spicy. She probably had the same idea as him, a nice broth to warm up their local doctor and keep his health up!

Don't worry, Maomao! Your pops is being taken care of. Not like the Madam would allow anything else, even if she would never admit it.  

Smiling at the thought, Ukyou almost missed their next interaction. The man, noticing her interest in the vegetables, smirked. Not a mean or cruel one, but a teasing one. She seemed to see it too and those two started talking, a conversation that made Maomao look down at her outfit and send a longing gaze to the radishes before moving along. A small pout graced her face, an expression she would never have let linger if she realized she was doing it. Seeing her pout, the man beside Maomao smiled. 

Please, please, never show up at work. Ukyou begged inside his head, watching the smile turn that average-in-a-handsome-way face into a downright cute and charming one. 

It was probably a work assignment, then, if she couldn't stop to buy some groceries to take home. At least, he hoped that was where she was going, since the two were going deeper into the pleasure district. Ukyou was curious about what kind of assignment would need her to be dressed like this and accompanied by a servant, but he quickly shook his head to dispel the thought. The less he knew about the lives of nobles, the better. 

Looking distracted, Maomao's companion went ahead of her, eyes still sparkling with curiosity. Huffing, Maomao walked past him and then pointedly looked back at the servant. The guy said something, looking almost deferent if it wasn't for the teasing glint in his eyes. Maomao pursed her lips as if annoyed, but the twitch of her lips betrayed her. She walked faster, a spring in her step, widening the distance between her and “her” servant. 

They seem comfortable. Ukyou raised an eyebrow. The Verdigris House's young apothecary wasn't the type to joke around and pout at anyone, much less at a work assignment. Could our Maomao be…? No way. 

As Maomao walked straight ahead without looking back, the servant guy kept looking around the stalls but now seemed to slow his step to stay behind her. It was almost funny, seeing such an ordinary-looking guy amazed by an ordinary market with ordinary people. However, the man's eyes did slide, more often than not, from the trinket and crops sold at the stalls to the back of the young lady in front of him and when they did, the sparkle of awe didn't seem to dim but to deepen . 

Curious . Ukyou half wondered if he should bring the strange situation up with Pairin or Meimei, but a vision of Maomao poisoning his stew flashed through his mind. Eh, better mind my own business. If it's anything serious, they'll find out eventually. 

A few minutes in, though, the servant looked upset at the prolonged silence and, in a move that would get a servant a beating if they ever did that to a real young mistress, stepped close behind her and waved his hand in front of her face. 

This guy is really bad at this subterfuge thing . Ukyou thought, with a hint of fondness. 

Whatever conversation they had left the guy looking like a kicked dog, metaphorical tail and ears dropping heavily. It almost made Ukyou want to step up, pat the young man's head and offer him a piece of candy, like in the rare times he found little Maomao sulking all alone around the brothel. He felt a pang of hurt at the memory, it was unfair that she grew up around the time everyone was working to the bone and not the comfortable workload they have today. He was sure the place was way more equipped to deal with children these days. Well, as much as a brothel was. 

Maomao, eyes frantically searching the market, seemed to feel the same way about the guy's sad puppy eyes. Sharp as always, she went straight to the jewel of the market: chicken skewers! Just looking at her buying two made Ukyou crave another one. Handing her companion a skewer while wearing one of her rare smiles, Maomao quickly pulled the man into an alley and he lost sight of them. 

If Ukyou was completely honest with himself, the servant guy seemed dedicated and focused enough to not let Maomao get snatched right out of his hands or dragged to a dark corner. But, as his curiosity grew, he silently swore to himself that if Maomao caught him, he would insist that her safety was all he was worried about as he casually walked to the corner of the alley. There was a weird itch in the back of his mind, a feeling he couldn't quite place, like he was missing the piece of a puzzle. 

Just a glance. He promised himself. Just to make sure she's alright.  

The first thing he saw was the servant's back, the guy's hands holding a skewer as he enthusiastically munched on something. Ukyou could only see the barest corner of his profile. Somehow, his cheeks looked less puffy when he chewed. Maybe it was the movement? But his attention was soon taken by Maomao, sitting down on a crate and cheerfully eating her own skewer. What made his eyes widen, though, was her gaze: even as she chewed and licked her lips, her eyes never left the servant's face. 

It hit him like a lightening bolt. 

He thought before that they were coworkers sent on an assignment by their master and, honestly, he was still sure that was partly true. But Maomao wouldn't let a random coworker tease her and then tease him right back, she wouldn't let him mess around during a work errand and she definitely wouldn't pull him into an alley to eat chicken skewers! A random servant wouldn't smile at her like she was the most adorable thing he had ever seen, wouldn't stare at her like she's the only one in a busy market and certainly wouldn't beg for her attention with puppy dog eyes!

Maomao wasn't just working right now, she was on a date!

Ukyou had only gotten a small look, probably less than thirty seconds, but he already felt like he intruded in ways he would be too embarrassed to admit to Maomao. He felt like a creep, spying on a young couple's date. No, worse, like an overprotective father, which was even more shameful since her own pops would never do what he just did.

Forgive me, Maomao . Ukyou silently begged. I won't tell anyone, I swear. 

Not even her, if he could help it. 

Ukyou started walking to the direction of the Verdrigis House, embarrassment fading the farther he got from the alley. Actually, now that he thought about it, it was kinda cute. Little Maomao doubling a work errand as a date with a cute servant guy from the palace. He was glad she was finally relaxing a bit, he couldn't see their stern apothecary slacking off work no matter who asked her. Maybe they were too busy to take a day and come out just for a date or they couldn't get permission from their boss.

Thinking about the handsome noble that bought Maomao, who looked at her all dressed up like she was an immortal sent from the heavens, Ukyou shuddered. If that man was their boss, no wonder they couldn't get permission! 

If that guy doesn't know about these two already, I don't want to be there when he finds out.  

Chapter Text

“What do you think you're doing?!”

Chou-u yelped as a fist landed on his head, hand dropping away from the doorknob. The violent culprit, the old cro– Madam of the Verdigris House, was glaring at him as she rubbed her fist. As if her bony fingers were the victim instead of Chou-u's poor head! Zulín, who was the very incompetent lookout, seemed as spooked as Chou-u. Inside his head, he sighed: his sidekick still had much to learn about the art of stealth. The old crone's shouting attracted more annoyances, as two figures came from the end of the corridor. Of course. 

“What's going on?” Zulín's mean older sister, Zhí, asked as she crossed her arms and stared at her sister. 

Zhí, like Zulín, was okay-looking enough, but she was always scowling and scolding them over anything. Zulín, you're supposed to be studying, not playing with this rascal. Zulín, you're going to let this boy call you a servant? You should sock him in the eye! Zulín, Brat, why are you two messing with Maomao's herb cabinet? Come back here! Honestly, it was so obnoxious. Chou-u had no idea how anyone was supposed to pay to spend time with her. 

“Oooh, don't be so hard on them, Madam. They're just playing.” Miss Pairin, of the three Princesses of the Verdigris House, cooed. Chou-u liked her, she was pretty and gave him some of her tea snacks when the old crone wasn't looking. 

“Yeah, you shouldn't hit children so hard, y'know!” Chou-u said, barely dodging another hit from that withered hand. Weren't old bones supposed to be fragile? How does she hit so hard? Zulín jumped behind her sister, who sighed but didn't push her away. “Geez, I just wanted to ask Freckles something! What's so bad about it?”

“Maomao is with a customer, that's what's wrong with it.” The old crone grumbled, nursing her hand once again. As she looked at the door, a creepy smile grew on her face. 

Chou-u tilted his head, confused. “Is that guy sick or something? Didn't look like it.”

“He's not sick.” Now, it was Miss Pairin that answered. She was smiling lightly, but her eyes twinkled mischievously. “He's the other kind of customer."

Honestly, that only made him more confused.

“But Freckles doesn't take clients like that, she's not a courtesan.” Chou-u said. That only made Miss Pairin and the old crone's smiles widen in a way that made them look almost similar. It was kinda terrifying, actually. “Who would want a skin-and-bones, freckle-face anyway–”

This time, the knuckle to his head came from another direction. 

“You shouldn't talk about a lady like that.” Zhí, who was often subjected to Chou-u's unprompted looks evaluation, said. She wiped her hand on her robe, getting twin glares from Chou-u and the old crone, albeit for different reasons. 

But Chou-u was just repeating what Freckles herself said! Didn't they tell him to always listen to her? Grownups didn't make sense at all…

“The brat is right, though. I thought Miss Maomao didn't take customers as a courtesan.” Zhí continued, a small frown on her face. Zulín copied her, looking comically similar. 

“That's because it's a special client.” The old crone said, looking proud. From Chou-u's short experience with her, that usually meant the guy was crazy rich. “He always pays full price whenever he comes around, even after buying her out.”

Zhí’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “He bought her out already? Why is she here then? Did he send her back?”

She shuddered after saying that, understandably. Even Chou-u knew that, for a courtesan, getting sent back was not a good thing. 

“Eh, he said something about needing her for apothecary work but sent her back because it didn't work out or whatever.” The madam waved her hand, like she hadn't just said something insane. “But he never asked for the money back and still visits her every ten days, paid visits. So whatever Maomao did to that guy, it needs to go into the curriculum!”

The old crone cackled, rubbing her hands together. Chou-u could almost see her eyes turning into silver coins. 

“Ah, of course she's such a professional. I raised her well.” The madam said. 

But you didn't raise her at all , went through the minds of everyone in the room. 

“You two!” The old crone said, pointing at Zhí and Zulín. The younger hid her face in the older's robe, who stood unbothered. “Make sure to follow her example! A man with deep pockets who only requests you is the best!”

Thankfully, she left after that, still cackling. 

Maybe she's finally going cuckoo . Chou-u thought. 

Even though the old crone was already going out of sight, Zhí was still frowning. 

“That’s so weird. When I asked Miss Maomao if she could teach me something, she said she didn't really work as a courtesan and couldn't do anything but bring me here.” She said, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “Was that not true? Or did she really win that guy over with herbs and poison?”

She looked like she couldn't decide which option would shatter her worldview more. Chou-u could kinda relate. When messing with her medicine stuff, Freckles got a frantic, almost maniac look in her eyes. Chou-u often needed to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth as she mixed a rarely-requested concoction in front of a customer. How could anyone be into that? But picturing her fluttering around and batting her eyelashes like the other girls in the brothel was just as weird. 

Miss Pairin shrugged, still smiling. Then, beckoned them over and leaned in as if telling a secret. Zulín peeked out from behind her sister, eyes wide. 

“We don't really know what our Maomao did. To be honest, I think Maomao herself doesn't know what she did.” Miss Pairin giggled, looking a bit to the side as if seeing a scene play out. “All we know is that after Maomao got let go from her job as a maid at the palace, she came back home and started working at a party to make up for her debt. Just as a server, mind you! And who does she meet there?”

The three of them looked expectantly at Miss Pairin and, realizing that she was waiting for the answer, Zhí took a safe guess. 

“That guy?” She asked, pointing with her thumb at the door they were beside. Miss Pairin nodded enthusiastically. 

“They knew each other from the palace and Maomao let him get awfully close to her.” Miss Pairin sighed dreamily. Zhí let out a low whistle and Chou-u got why: in a party with the Verdigris House girls as servants, you're not allowed to touch the courtesans. And touching Freckles of all people was another story entirely. “Then, he showed up the next day and bought her out immediately! Didn't even argue with the Madam, just paid full price!”

Now Chou-u's eyes widened along with Zhí’s and Zulín's. It was basically a rite of passage to watch a desperate buyer try to haggle down a courtesan's price for a reasonable amount, so the old crone always set the price sky high. To not even argue with it… the guy really is crazy rich. 

“And now he shows up every ten days and still pays for it… What did Miss Maomao do to that poor idiot?” Zhí said, leaving her mouth hanging open after. 

“Like I said, Maomao wouldn't be able to tell you. She doesn't seem to notice that she has the guy wrapped around her little finger.” Miss Pairin said, jokingly wiggling her left hand's little finger around. 

“How can she not know? The guy just said ‘no, thanks’ to our prettiest virgins and a bath massage! Virgins! Do you know how hard that is to find around here?” Zhí, one of the said virgins that were lined up for the nobleman, asked and waved her arms around lightly. It almost looked like a dance, maybe Miss Pairin's dance classes were paying off. 

At least she didn't look offended or anything, in Chou-u's opinion. She just looked extremely confused. 

“Maomao is super smart, so if she says there's nothing there, there's probably a reason.” Miss Pairin answered, and then wetted her lips like she wanted to say more. But a glance at the room's door stopped her. “I just hope she gives into him just a little bit someday.”

“I wish I had a handsome nobleman to give into.” Zhí pouted, also looking at the door. “I can´t wait to have a guy buying me out.”

“You still have a long way to go, cutie.” Miss Pairin said, laying a hand on Zhí’s shoulder. “Also, you shouldn't hurry so much. Your little sister is still young and I don't think any noble worth their salt is letting you take her with you if he buys you out.”

At those words, Zhí looked at Zulín and swallowed so hard Chou-u could hear it clearly. Then, she swept a hand through her younger sister's hair before flicking her on the forehead. Pouting, Zulín covered the new red spot on her forehead.

“Guess I have to stay a little longer to take care of the kid, then.” Zhí said, clapping her hands together. Her eyes seemed a bit more determined than before. “I'm going back to training now! Zulín, go study and stay away from the brat!”

Chou-u stuck his tongue out for her and barely dodged a slap. 

“Study? I think I have some stuff I can teach you right now, since I'm free.” Miss Pairin said, sliding her hand down Zhí’s elbow and biting her lip. Her eyes changed from how they were a moment ago, but Chou-u couldn't quite say how. 

“Oh, some more moves?” Zhí said, twisting her sleeves a little as if mimicking Miss Pairin's dance classes. 

Miss Pairin giggled. “I guess you could call it that.”

As they left, Zulín looked at Chou-u, tilting her head as if asking “What was that?” and Chou-u shrugged as if saying “Beats me”. 

Grumbling, Chou-u snuck closer to the door, ignoring Zulín's alarmed stare. Waving off her panicked stare to indicate he wasn't going to do anything stupid, Chou-u put his ear to the door. He hasn't seen Freckles for hours! Why couldn't he talk to her but some stupid noble could? Okay, probably because he paid, but Freckles is Chou-u's caretaker, not that guy’s. And Chou-u was hungry, damn it! Wasn't that enough reason to interrupt a visit or whatever they were doing? 

But since the old crone insisted on whining and beating on poor children, Chou-u would just check real quick if Freckles was almost done with whatever she was doing inside the room. Knowing her, it was probably some obscure treatment for skin harshes or something like that. Maybe that was why he wore that stupid mask all the time? However he got it, he probably deserved it. That's what he got for keeping Freckles all to him– making Chou-u go hungry! Yeah, he probably deserved it. 

At first, he didn't hear anything as he set his ear against the door, but, as he paid attention, he could finally hear something. It was a song: a lullaby, soft and sweet with familiar melody and lyrics. Chou-u probably wouldn't have recognized the voice if he hadn't heard it singing before: it was Freckles. She was singing, low and caring, for that nobleman inside the room. Zulín, who had way better hearing than Chou-u, started mouthing along the words, a small smile tugging her lips. Even then, she didn't seem particularly familiar with it. 

Chou-u's memory of the first time he heard the lullaby was cloudy and hazy, like trying to spot enough locusts to catch during a misty day. 

He had a dream: he was in a dark room, surrounded by the smell of plants and hiding from something behind a curtain. He wasn't sure what he was hiding from, but just the thought of it catching him made his stomach lock up. He could see a shadow coming closer, its shape vaguely human if it wasn't for the long claws it dragged around and the sounds it made sounding like the screech of a wounded fox. Just when its claws started reaching around the curtain Chou-u was behind, he woke up. 

He had been gasping for air, trembling in a way that could be blamed for the cold he felt lying in a cot on the ground in the shack near Verdrigris House if it weren't for the tears running down his face. 

“Chou-u, what are you–” Freckles had turned to him, yawning. Seeing his face, she had sat up sleepily, quickly poking around his cheeks and chest. When she made a familiar satisfied face, Chou-u was prepared for her to shrug and go back to sleep. 

But Freckles didn't do that. She crawled closer to him, sitting beside his head on the cot and uncerimoniously picking his head up and dropping it on her lap. Her face was annoyed, but her touch was gentle. Then, she started humming, a sweet sound Chou-u wouldn't be able to imagine if he hadn't heard it coming from her at that moment, before it developed into a lullaby sung at a low voice. The song wasn't familiar, not really, but somehow the situation was. 

When Chou-u came back to his senses, it was already the next morning and Freckles was waking him up with a bucket of cold water to his face.  

The two of them never talked about it. Chou-u, embarrassed to be caught crying like a baby, had just yelled at her for her waking up methods and Freckles had just laughed meanly at his soaking wet scowl. But whenever Chou-u had that nightmare again, he could feel a body just a little bigger than his pulling him behind it just before the shadow pulled the curtain and could hear a familiar humming lullaby.

Hearing her sing it to some random nobleman left him feeling annoyed and, though he would never admit it out loud, a little hurt. Couldn't that guy get someone else to sing it to him? Maybe at his own palace or whatever so he never had to come to Verdigris House again? Chou-u started to raise his leg, bent on kicking down the door against Zulín's silent pleading. However, he remembered Miss Pairin's words. 

“Also, you shouldn't hurry so much. Your little sister is still young and I don't think any noble worth their salt is letting you take her with you if he buys you out.”

The guy came to see Freckles every ten days, paying obscene amounts of money to nap on her lap at a tiny apothecary shop or have her sing him a lullaby. From Freckles’ traumatizing explanation about a courtesan's work, he knew it wasn't anything like it. Coming over to talk, see the person and nap on them, it really wasn't like the usual customer, Actually, it just sounded like something from Zulín's stupid romance books, where guys would do sappy stuff to ask a girl to get married. 

“… I don't think any noble worth their salt is letting you take her with you if he buys you out.”

Chou-u felt hands catching him, having stumbled back into Zulín as he dropped his leg abruptly. His body went cold. Freckles wouldn't marry that guy, right? She always rolled her eyes at Miss Pairin's romance talk and Miss Meimei's discussion of marriage “prospects”. She was way too obsessed with plants and poisons to pay attention to a husband! But…

He stared at the door. Even though his ears weren't stuck on it anymore, the lullaby still echoed in his head. 

“… I don't think any noble worth their salt is letting you take him with you…”

Chou-u wasn't sure what kind of face he was making, but from Zulín's one it couldn't be good. She grasped his hands and started to exaggeratedly breath in and breath out, looking into his eyes as she did it. She looked stupid, in Chou-u's opinion, but a good boss couldn't let his servant embarrass herself like this all alone, so he imitated her. Strangely, the pressure in his chest started to lessen and his breathing got better. He shrugged off her hands.

Glaring at the wall, Chou-u felt determination fill him. Freckles clearly doesn't want to get married! She wouldn't have come back to the brothel if she did! No super rich nobleman would let his wife play around with meds anyway and Freckles would probably wither and die if she didn't drink poison at least once a day. See? That's a totally horrible match. Since Freckles is his caretaker, Chou-u can throw her a bone and help her out a little. No one deserved to get married if they didn't want to, not even Freckles!

As he started to come up with ways to scare a stupid nobleman away, not limited to filling his shoes with needles as he slept or serving him a meal exclusively made of the locusts the owner of the House brought recently, he barely noticed when the door opened. 

It was Freckles, but Chou-u's shout of her nickname died on his lips as he looked at her. She didn't seem to notice either him or Zulín, staring at the inside of the room through the half-opened door. Chou-u couldn't see whatever she was seeing from his angle, so he focused on Freckles’ face. She wasn't smiling, as usual. However, her face was relaxed, eyes with an expression he wasn't sure he had even seen before: it was gentle and fond, comfortable, with a hint of a feeling Chou-u couldn't name. 

Ah . As much as Freckles said otherwise, Chou-u wasn't stupid. 

It felt like they were standing there for hours, but could only have really been seconds. Then, Freckles closed the door and turned directly at them, startling a little before the soft look in her eyes sharpened into a glare. 

“What are you two doing here?” She hissed quietly, eyes taking a peek at the door quickly before returning to glaring at the two. 

Chou-u crossed his arms, putting on a brave face. “Well, it's meal time and someone forgot to feed me!”

Beside him, Zulín nodded eagerly. 

Freckles narrowed her eyes. “I don't feed you, Chou-u, Zulín. You can just go to the kitchen like everyone else.”

“But you're my caretaker.” Chou-u said smugly. “You’re supposed to take care of me!”

“Damn it, Grams.” She grumbled. From the look on her face, it was probably the type of stuff she thought she said only in her head. It was one of Freckles’ many bad habits. “Tch. Let 's go, brats.”

She took one of Chou-u's hands and one of Zulín's, steering them into the direction of the kitchen. 

“I can't trust the two of you running around the kitchen. If anything happens, Grams is probably gonna blame me.” She grumbled. Zulín smiled happily and Chou-u rolled his eyes but gave the hand holding his a little squeeze. 

Freckles glanced at him quickly. However, she didn't say anything. Typical. Whatever, Chou-u would enjoy it as much as he could before she left to be all gross and lovey-dovey with Lord Nobleface or something. 

She was way less annoying when she's happy, anyways. 

Chapter Text

Guen had missed his home: the tall trees, the damp smell of moss and wet leaves and the bustle of people running around, working on fresh sheets of paper. His village prided itself on their masterful work, persevering even after the late Empress Regnant's ban on cutting down certain types of trees, and it showed. His sister, busy taking care of the family after Guen had been forced to take his leave to enter the palace as an eunuch, had caught him up as much as she could, talking about how their raw material and processing went way faster than it had ten years ago, the last time he had been around. 

And it was all about to be destroyed because of a single man's greed. 

His sister’s request had broken through the peaceful haze Guen’s mind had slipped into after setting his feet on his homeland. It still sounded preposterous to him: the former landlord's upstart son suddenly changing their contract, claiming their years-long old one was invalid, and his brother-in-law's and sister's helplessness in the face of it. Master Basen's and the young lady's offer to accompany them to the negotiations the next day was well meaning, but looked to be fruitless.

The Imperial Office would not lower the taxes. Even Guen himself, not as well versed in politics as his letters to his sister made him out to be, knew that. There was no way a decree made by the Imperial Brother would be rescinded less than a month after it was made and, since he left the Rear Palace and the identity of the eunuch Master Jinshi, Guen had no opportunity to talk to him directly either. The beautiful prince was now an unreachable star, not for the eyes of a Rear Palace eunuch doctor or his paper-making family. 

Closing the door of the sitting room, Guen sighed heavily and started walking towards his room. His sister's face, the teary look in her eyes and trembling lips, were stuck in his mind. Gone were the days she cried at the drop of a hat. Maybe marriage matured her, since now she strongly held back her tears and her husband clenched his jaw. Neither of them seemed to blame him for his lack of any real connections, but that only made the heaviness in his chest stronger. They didn't even try to convince him much in private after their guests went to sleep. 

The young lady's warning probably got to them . He shuddered, thinking about her story of a mutilated, nosey eunuch. Was it true or did she make it up? He could never tell with her. 

Avoiding going to the master bedroom, Guen snuck out to the garden near the guest rooms, set on taking a walk to clear his head. The garden was pretty, but practical. It was also marred by a good amount of weeds. A little uncharitably, he couldn't help but compare it to the gardens at the Rear Palace. 

Maybe I could get one of my nephews to do a little gardening. Guen thought, a hand on his chin. A habit cultivated by the time he spent assisted by the young lady. Thinking of his older nephew, he shuddered. I'll ask my sister to ask the younger one. That 's better .  

Guen was startled out of his musings by a loud sound coming from inside the house. Had someone broken in? Maybe one of those awful rice farmers! Should he go get his nephews or brother-in-law? But if they saw Guen running around, he might as well be the first victim. Feeling his simple, cotton night robes getting soaked in cold sweat, he dropped to the ground and started crawling towards the closest wall of the house. 

My clothes… He mourned quietly, sticking his back to the wall and raising himself up with shaky legs. 

In his state, he knew he would not be making it to his sister's or nephews’ rooms before getting caught. So, he decided that a quick peek through the window would be just enough to make sure it really was an intruder and not any of the youngsters he was traveling with getting rowdy. Unsuccessfully trying to hold back his trembling, he slowly lifted his head to a corner of the window, hidden by a bit of overgrown foliage, and looked inside. 

There was a tall, broad-shouldered man coming from the direction of the young lady's room. For a second, Guen's blood went cold before he recognized the red face and downturned mouth, along with the familiar well-made clothes: Master Basen! Unlike his usual severe expression, a straight poise, the man's expression was clenched with apparent embarrassment, flushed almost crimson, and he walked looking straight at the ground, which gave him a hunched posture. 

Guen almost moved out of his hiding place, but thought twice as he looked at the nobleman. He looked like one word would make his burning red face explode, as he wiped his mouth with his hands and muttered incomprehensibly. Guen barely caught an  “inappropriate” and a “that girl–” before Master Basen was out of sight, slamming the door to the room he shared with his gloomy servant. 

As Guen started to move to leave his hiding spot, he heard another noise that froze him in place. Honestly, after such an overreacting to a little noise, the last thing he needed was to be seen hiding by a window to seemingly spy on people by someone like his older nephew, his brother-in-law or even Master Basen's terrifying servant. 

Speaking of the devil… Guen thanked the heavens that he stayed in place. Leaving the young lady's room was none other than Master Basen's servant. He was inconfundible: skin so pale it almost glowed in the moonlight, tall build and long, lacquered dark hair. The servant could almost be called handsome if it wasn't for the huge scar running across his face and his dark, gloomy stare. His unending silence was so unsettling that Guen was sweating bullets as Master Basen explained that the man was coming with them, so nervous that he didn't even catch the servant's name. Since then, Guen avoided him as much as he could. 

The man moved slowly, somber appearance making it easy to mistake him as a ghost if you were unaware of who he was. The young lady followed him up to the door of her room, standing at the open door. 

Wait, why was he in the young lady's room? Guen felt all the blood drain from his face, throat closing. I promised Luomen I would take care of his daughter!

Not letting tall, dark and scary young men invade her rooms at night surely is part of that! Poor little lady, so small and quiet, it wouldn't take much for such a strange character to force his way into her room and have his wicked way with her! Guen, as her mentor and her father's friend, couldn't let a servant do whatever he wanted with her!

A look at the servant cooled his impulses to burst into the situation a bit, cold sweat slid down his back, ruining his robes even further. It would be his first time speaking to the scary servant and Guen knew the man could be a little intimidating. At dinner, after his sister jokingly teased him for bringing such a “lovely young bride” home, the manservant had dropped his tray of food and Guen spent the rest of dinner feeling a cold, sharp stare at the back of his neck. 

Is this because of his… designs on the young lady? Guen wondered, a new light shining on the recent memory. In his mind's eyes, he could see a scarred wolf closing his jaws on a trembling kitten. No! Young lady, Luomen, I won't let this happen!

Before the newly steeled eunuch doctor could get up and shout the man away from his protegé, the servant began to speak.

“Miss Maomao.” The man said politely, but Guen could see his one visible eye shining almost mischievously. It was so shocking that he immediately sat back down in his hiding spot. “I must leave now to attend to my master. I can't thank you enough for your assistance.”

The servant bowed slightly. His voice, Guen thought, was actually really pleasant to the ear, almost honeyed but low enough that it matched his looks. It was vaguely familiar, but it was probably due to the servant using it before to address Master Basen and the eunuch doctor not paying attention. 

The young lady bowed, a little deeper than was appropriate, if you asked Guen. “It was no problem, Master Jinka.”  

“Master? Now, now, Miss Maomao, aren't the both of us of the same station?” The servant, apparently named Jinka, said, voice still in a low monotone but eyes now twinkling teasingly. It was such a small detail that changed his countenance  so strongly that Guen's eyes almost bulged out. “Please call me informally.”

“Of course, Mister Jinka.” The little lady's scowl and voice were so venomous that the eunuch doctor flinched and shrunk down, even though it wasn't aimed at him.

However, Jinka seemed unaffected. No, upon a closer look, the corner of his lips curled into a small smile and his eyes shone brighter. He looked like an almost different person from earlier that same day, scarred face relaxed and mischievous, but not intimidating. He seemed to be having, and Guen wouldn't believe it if he wasn't a personal witness, fun . 

“Still, your help with my scar is incredibly valued.” Jinka continued, smile growing slightly. “I wouldn't have been able to do it without you.”

Smiling like this, this man is a little… Guen thought, feeling a flush climb his neck. Weird, the garden usually ran cold. 

He shook it off. Well, at least it explained everything: the young man came to the young lady, aware she knows enough about apothecary work that she could help him with his painful-looking scar, and she helped him, like the caring girl she is. Guen felt relieved he misunderstood a medical situation for an ardent and unwanted thirst forced on the little lady. He wouldn't be able to face Luomen if he had actually let something happen to his precious daughter! 

Still, I need to have a conversation with her. She can't let unmarried men her age in her rooms at night! Guen huffed, puffing his cheek. She needs to think of her reputation if she wants to find a good marriage. 

“I'm sure you would have, si- Mister Jinka.” The young lady said rudely, rolling her eyes. 

“Not as you did.”

“I'm sure that's not true.”

“I'm sure it is.”

“Do you need something else, Mister ?” She snapped. Jinka looked weirdly satisfied, but Guen was sure it was just the low light. 

Then, Jinka sighed, sounding as forlorn as a man of his disposition could. Was that a pout on his face? No, when Guen squinted his eyes, the man’s face was once again serious. Maybe he should go looking into getting glasses. 

“Well, I'll be retiring for the night, Miss Maomao.” Jinka bowed slightly once again and, as he straightened up, probably missed the glint in the little lady’s eyes. But Guen didn't. 

As the young servant’s face reached around the young lady's line of sight, she caught his face in her hands, a move so bold that the doctor barely managed to hold back a gasp. Jinka stopped rising from his bow, whole body visibly freezing. From the fall of his dark hair around his face, Guen couldn't see his expression. 

“Hum, the scar os really looking much better.” She said, hands still delicately cupping his face. Jinka made no move to shake them off. “It's not half bad.”

Her voice had settled into a tone Guen had never heard from her: it was teasing, yes, but not exactly monotone. It held an undercurrent of something much softer, a word the doctor wouldn't usually associate with the young lady. Her voice matched her face, though: a gentling of her features, lips curled up and eyes almost kind. That combination of elements on her face formed a tender expression that made Guen feel, for the first time, like an actual intruder in their short interaction. 

The two of them remained in that position for less than a minute, but to Guen, the unwilling onlooker, it felt like forever. Not soon enough, the little lady released the servant's face and the man straighted up, red crawling up the back of his neck. But, with his hair once again properly over his shoulder, Guen could see his face: it was as impassive as ever.

“Good night, Miss Maomao.” Jinka said, turning around quickly and walking unusually fast to his room. 

Watching as the servant hurried away, the little lady only answered as he opened the door to his room. “Good night, Mister Jinka.”

The door slammed shut and the little lady, looking like the cat that got the cream, went inside her room and shut her door. Guen stood still for a couple of seconds longer before rising from his hiding spot by the window, wincing as his knees cricked and back hurt from the movement. His feet started to move in the direction of his room automatically, mind so clouded he didn't care about the dirt his feet were dragging around the pristine floors. 

At least the young man isn't as scary as he seems. The thought comforted Guen. Maybe the gruesome scar on his face had given him the wrong impression on the young servant. Like a lighting bolt, the thought struck him: had the young lady’s initial interest in the young servant been because of his scar? It was, unfortunately, not impossible: Guen had never seen the little lady sigh over any man, not even the Moon Prince, and Luomen had hinted enough that his daughter had weird obsessions that he had curbed with hard work. 

Would the young lady choose a future husband solely based on an unusual scar which she could experiment her creams and tonics on? Well, maybe. But thinking about her expression as she held his face in her hands, Guen ruled that out as unlikely. It seemed like the simplest answer was theost accurate: the little lady was in love and her beloved looked interested enough to indulge her boldness.  

While Guen was usually overjoyed by young love, the thought of explaining to his friend about his little girl finding love with a seemingly unsettling man made him gulp. Just the image of fragile, kind Luomen facing the gloomy aura associated with Jinka left his head dizzy. The little lady, not the most adept at reading the room, would certainly not be of any help. 

However, the little lady's sweet expression flashed through his mind’s eye. Alright, he would be there to mediate when Luomen set up a meeting with his daughter's future prospect. Guen had enough time to make up a reason why he should be there. And he would keep an eye out while they were in the village just to make sure nothing untoward happened. After that, the little lady would be on her own. 

Pondering on the smug face she made while closing her room's door, Guen was at least a little comforted that she could take care of herself well enough. 

Chapter Text

Delicately holding her honorable father's arm as they swept into the banquet room, Yakou smiled confidently. The air had thankfully cooled as night fell in the Western Capital, so her layers of pink and white silk felt pleasant rather than stuffy. Her jewelry and hairstick matched perfectly with her clothes, sky blue gems contrasting with gold gaining jealous stares from some of the women around the room. Seems like searching for additional accessories during the day had been worth it.  

No chance of being outdone now. Yakou thought smugly, eyes sweeping the place quickly before she snapped back in focus. No, focus on what matters, not on that stupid hairstick.  

Yakou, like all eligible young ladies important enough to be brought to the Western Capital or lucky enough to be from a local, noble family, was at the banquet for a sole reason: catching the eye of the Moon Prince. 

Handsome, brave and accomplished, the Moon Prince made his entrance into the political and social landscape of Li with a heavy-handed military maneuver that had Father gushing about it for weeks. A beautiful showing of loyalty to the Emperor and ruthlessness to external betrayal that solidified his reputation quickly with most factions at court and on noble families across the four corners of Li. At least that’s what Father had drilled into her head during the long boat trip to the Western Capital. 

If Yakou was to be honest, she could admit that she hardly heard what he said as she was still stuck on two words: prince and handsome. After all, the Moon Prince had been excused from court appearances and parties on the excuse that he was sickly and horribly scarred from a childhood incident. Father had even confirmed that, while present at the hunt hosted by the Shi Clan at the north, the prince hadn't taken off a mask that covered over half of his face, not even during extreme heat. A man that had so much to hide couldn't be comely. 

Still, a prince . Yakou would try her hand anyway. But out of sheer curiosity, she wrote to some friends stuck as court ladies and one lucky enough to be a middle-ranked consort and asked about the appearance of the master of the Rear Palace: the Moon Prince's disguise as he recuperated from illness and helped the Emperor rip out the “bad weeds” from his garden. She received what she thought at the time to be ridiculous, flowery exaggeration, words about a man so handsome it couldn't be described with mortal words.  She had assumed the news of his true identity held back her friends’ true thoughts and forgot their letters, preparing for her trip to the West. 

Arriving at Lord Gyokuen's manor, Yakou realized she had truly underestimated her friends’ words. Stepping down from her carriage, helped by her father's hand, she had caught a glimpse of the prince for the first time and almost fell flat on her face as her knees went weak at the sight. Pale skin unmarred by the sun, hair so dark and silky that it reflected the light with an indigo undertone and shiny eyes that matched the hair color, features and build so perfectly sculpted that he resembled a statue and an incredibly charming smile that melted her heart. The Moon Prince was so beautiful she had understood other people's words didn't do him justice. 

Of course, she wasn't delusional enough to not notice the ugly scar blemishing his face, but even that didn't diminish his supernatural beauty. They could cover it up with makeup, after all. As his wife, she wouldn't mind touching his face to apply it every morning. Just the thought made her sigh inwardly, really. Not like their children would inherit the scar either, so she could gloss over its existence. 

Now, on the second banquet night at the Western Capital, all hosted by Lord Gyokuyou, Yakou was on a mission: captivate the Moon Prince, like he did to her, and actually elevate the U Clan by marrying him. All competition accounted for, she was sure the odds were stacked in her favor. 

The biggest and most obvious candidate had been spotted from the beginning by every single eligible woman: Lady Lishu, the Emperor's Virtuous Consort and Yakou's (supposedly) half-sister. She was “clearly untouched” (although Yakou had serious doubts about it), only four years younger than the Imperial Brother, well-educated and from a named clan, their U family. When the news of Lishu coming to the Western Capital were confirmed, Yakou had torn her room down in rage.

How dare that little bastard try to get the spotlight once again? Doesn't she ever get tired of being an attention-seeker? Of course, being one of the Emperor's flowers isn't enough for her, maybe because she had spent enough time with the man for him to notice how dull and whiny Lishu is. So, jumping from a sinking ship, Lishu hopped with advantage to the most sought-after bachelor in all of Li. As always, she can't help being a selfish little brat. 

I should have slapped her harder. Yakou thought, flexing her right hand. If she focused, she could still feel the sting on her palm from hitting Lishu's cheek. I can always do it again later.  

Well, not like Lishu was the heavy hitter everyone was expecting anyways. As rumored as the Virtuous Consort was to be given to the Imperial Brother, likely a gift for his squashing of a militaristic threat from a named clan, he hadn't paid a lick of attention to her beyond simple greetings and pleasant small talk. The Moon Prince hadn't been accompanying her during the first night of the banquet and showed no sign of approaching her currently, either. 

Yakou spied Lishu standing by a wall, face covered with a veil (supposedly required since she's an Imperial Consort, but Yakou privately thought it was a favor done so no guest would get upset at Lishu's plain and unattractive face) and white clothes fine, but relatively simple for someone of such high ranking. By her side was a handsome man that Yakou had  done a double take at before realizing it wasn't the Moon Prince: Lishu's companion's features were more delicate and his build lighter, aura not quite as nymph-like as the prince's.

A shame to see such a handsome guy waste time with that bastard. She thought, resisting the urge to glare. As if sensing her disdain, Lishu squirmed. Yakou smirked. Good, she should know her place.  

Yakou touched her left earring, sending the servant girl she paid off their signal as she went into Lishu's direction. She knew a small flask of “perfume” was hidden in the servant girl's sleeve. That would remind Lishu of exactly who she is. 

With Lishu seemingly out of the way, the select pool of candidates pounced on the opportunity with ferocity hardly ever seen in young ladies of fine blood. Lord Gyokuen's family had the homeground advantage, but there were hardly any women close to the Moon Prince's age and offering women older than him could be seen as offensive. Lady Yaqin, their host's granddaughter, was of the perfect age of 16 and pretty enough that she was receiving glares all across the room. 

“I don't think they're going to push her.” Father had said, the night before. “Gyokuen already has a good claim to the throne through the crown prince and the Empress, pushing his granddaughter to the prince could be too presumptuous. The Emperor already has the West secured, too, so it wouldn't be an interesting match for him.”

That had calmed her down significantly, so she eyed the other women in the room lazily. They were all beautifully done up, clothes impeccable, hair styled and jewelry worth more than the whole trip from the Capital of Li would have cost. Although none had caught the Imperial Brother's eye, Yakou had to admit they were all quite pretty. 

Well, all except one. She thought, smirk growing as she caught sight of a short woman hobbling around with her equally unsightly brother. 

The Princess of the La Clan had been a mystery discussed thoroughly at the tea party Yakou had been invited to in the morning, most of the important ladies setting aside their differences to work towards a common goal: gossip. As far as anyone knew, the eccentric Grand Commandant, Kan Lakan, had no children except for his adopted son, Kan Lahan. So, when Sir Lahan started to introduce his “honorable little sister” during the first banquet of the festivities, more than one jaw had quietly dropped. 

They speculated if she was actually some kind of hidden daughter or if the Grand Commandant had adopted a girl just to get a shot of setting up the La Clan with a member of the Imperial Family. The latter idea got scratched out upon further thought: the girl's clothes were of fine make, hairstyle impeccable and make up well applied, but even her pretty face couldn't hide that she wasn't particularly tall or well endowed. If the Grand Commandant was half as smart as rumored, he would have picked a more… enticing girl to adopt, if his sights were on the Moon Prince's hand for his Clan. 

But what had truly caught every girl's attention was her hairstick: a beautiful piece of masterful craft, made of pure silver with dark jewels decadently hanging from it. It held a design of flowers (poppies, one of the girls of a named clan from the south recognized) and a crescent moon . A move so bold by the La Clan that the whispers must already have reached the lower towns of the Western Capital. The hairstick had also clearly cost more than all of Yakou's jewelry put together, she had realized through gritted teeth the night before. Furthermore,  the La Clan Princess hadn't spared any fellow noble lady a glance during the banquet, snubbing any of their subtle invitations to talk with an apathetic face. 

It made Yakou's blood boil, but she still swallowed her pride and sought out the other girl the next morning. Stripped of her finery and pretty clothes, the so-called Princess of the La Clan was even less impressive under the sunlight: a cotton aoqun , sturdy shoes and a spray of freckles along with a simple updo. She looked more like a maid than the daughter of a named clan and Yakou had to hold back her laughter at the sight of her dull look and poor manners as she prodded her on what she was going to wear to the banquet. No matter how many expensive hairsticks the Grand Commandant bought his daughter, she was pretty much hopeless. 

The La Clan isn't going far if it's up to that one. Yakou giggled, letting go of her father's arm and making her way to a gathering of girls. Even Sir Lahan looks like he has had enough.  

Kan Lahan was another eligible bachelor: the heir of a named clan, with a high position in the government and known to be highly talented with numbers. Nevermind his tousled hair, mousy build and womanizing ways, Yakou was also told to be polite enough to him to try her luck if things with the Moon Prince fell through. Right now, the man was going around with Lady Kan, introducing her as his relative, whereas last night she had been introduced as his honorable younger sister. The embarrassment of being known as her older brother was probably catching up to him. 

He looks pained just by being near her, poor thing. Yakou thought as she watched Sir Lahan grimaced before introducing Lady Kan to another official. 

Yakou arrived near the other girls and greeted them as warmly as you could a rival, all strategically near the center of the room close to where the Moon Prince stood with his attendant, talking to Lord Gyokuen. They spent some time exchanging pleasantries and sipping glasses of sweet wine, but the moment the dancing started they all flocked to their target: the Imperial Brother. 

She refused to run, like some of the girls in front of her were uncouth enough to do, but sticking out her foot did just the trick and three girls hurrying along went down. The Moon Prince, ever kind, signaled to his attendant to help those girls up, leaving him unprotected to the women crowding him. Yakou managed to snag a place by his left side, nothing between her and the prince except for the appropriate personal space mandatory for any member of the Imperial Family. 

All the girls were smiling, some brave ones striking conversation with the Moon Prince. None of them could invite him to dance, so they had to entice him the best they could first. Yakou managed to interject now and then, but stayed silent for most of the time. Men never liked to hear a woman's voice more than their own, Father had said once. Not everyone had received the same advice, though: Lady Baili, of the Southern governor's Clan, wouldn't stop prattling as the prince nodded politely for her to go on. Quickly getting bored, Yakou's eyes scanned the dancing floor before landing on something interesting. 

Lady Kan was dancing with a handsome man that seemed to be a good ten years older than her. Not that age weighed down on him, his mature features and poise pleasant to the eye as he gently steered the clumsy woman along the floor. Yakou had no idea what a man so charming and comely had been doing pulling a woman like the La Clan Princess to dance, but perhaps he's just seeking an advantageous match? She is a member of a named clan, after all.

He looks like he's a military officer, too. She thought, eyeing his formal uniform. Perhaps he was accompanying Sir Lahan during the trip. So unfortunate what some men have to do for a good future. Well, not everyone gets the pleasure to choose well. Not like…

Sighing dreamily, Yakou turned away from the sad scene of a handsome man wasting away with plain tofu and looked coily at the Moon Prince once again, who was–

Staring directly at Lady Kan and her mystery man. 

At first, Yakou is sure she must be wrong. Why would the Moon Prince even care about a random dancing couple? He's still nodding at Lady Baili, making charming interjections and smiling pleasantly for them. But the more she stares at him, the more she can't deny: his dark eyes are following the rhythm of the dancing couple, never leaving their figures. When the handsome man kisses Lady Kan's hand, Yakou sees something flash in the Imperial Brother's eyes, too quickly to identify. She would probably have missed it if she wasn't paying so much attention. The La Clan Princess and her partner part ways and the dancing ends. The Moon Prince dances with no one.

When Yakou leaves to join her father, she notices that, as handsome as the prince's smile is, his hands are clenched into fists by his side. 

Suddenly, she wished she had pointed Lady Kan out to the servant girl with the perfume bottle, not to stupid Lishu. 

Of course, as if to mock her, the two of them sit together by a table, snacking on meat like two children. Don't they know women of society aren't supposed to eat at functions? Lishu should have left already. If the plan worked, her smell had to be unbearable. The La Clan Princess hardly showed any discomfort, nodding quietly at Lishu's babbling. What an annoying girl, never reacted to anything. So how could–

The Moon Prince was still looking at her.

Yakou had barely felt her head turn, seeking him out. He was doing it again, but much more subtle: little glances here and there, between conversations with Lord Gyokuen and other noblemen. But there were times he would pause a second longer, as if mesmerized by whatever he was looking at that seemed to be in the exact same direction as Lady Kan . Yakou felt blood rise to her face as the insides of her body boiled. She was probably imagining things, the heat of the West was getting to her… It just couldn't be true. 

Trying to distract herself, Yakou pretended to have been paying attention to her father's oft-repeated joke and laughed. She could practically feel Lishu's pathetic puppy dog gaze on her, which made her feel a little better. Fortunately, the lion brought out much better entertainment. At least it did, until all hell broke loose. 

Between being basically scolded by the Moon Prince and having the absolutely insane Lady Kan shove her hand inside her mouth, Yakou was exhausted at the end of the night. She half-heartedly comforted her father, nursing his “wounds” (of course, the one time being filial turned around on her had to be in front of the Moon Prince ), but all she could pay attention to was the way the prince's eyes had barely grazed Lishu. No, the moment the lion was subdued, Yakou saw the fear in his eyes melt into sheer relief and happiness as he saw Lady Kan come out unscathed from under the table. It was like Lishu wasn't attacked too at all.

This didn't comfort Yakou as much as she thought it would. 

Yakou left the banquet room with her father, as empty-handed as she felt and with humiliation burning her cheeks at the Moon Prince's words and Lady Kan's examination and hidden accusations. She just wanted to lay her head on her pillow and sleep until it was time to go back to the Capital, but her father chose the longer route to see Lord Gyokuen's beautiful gardens. Like a filial daughter, she complied. 

Before they could even reach it, however, a figure came from its direction: Lady Kan, but she seemed visibly disheveled. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy and almost unseeing. Her clothes were wrinkled in several places and her hairdo looked like it had gone through some decent tugs. Lady Kan looked, in short, debauched, in the middle of a high society party. 

Who was she disgracing herself with out here, I wonder. Yakou thought meanly, suppressing a sneer as Lady Kan passed her and her father by without a single greeting. Maybe that pretty military boy? I'm shocked he can even bear to touch her. Well, he better get used to it, if that's what he's going to content himself with for the rest of his life. 

So distracted by her own thoughts, Yakou almost missed the second figure coming from the same direction. Pale, flawless skin flushed red; long hair messed up in a way that made it clear the person had been laying down; robes with two big wrinkles, as if hands had spent a long time grabbing the same spot and eyes so glossy they were almost glowing. The Moon Prince looked just as debauched as the La Clan Princess, if not more. 

As if the situation is happening to someone else, Yakou bows automatically, mind filled with static. She vaguely notices her father does the same besides her. Not that any of it matters.

The Moon Prince walks past her like she's invisible. 

Chapter Text

Suiren had a routine. Every day she would wake up before dawn and get ready in exactly a quarter of an hour*. She would never be caught in unsuitable clothing, but she prioritized simple outfits and had a daily hairstyle. It wouldn't do for a servant to overstep, after all. Then, she would draw the Young Master's bath so it would be perfectly warm by the time he stepped into it and set the finishing touches to breakfast, as she left the ingredients prepared the night before. She picked his outfit, warm and comfortable for the day, and dropped it by his changing screen. 

She was often asked by other people how she managed everything by herself. Some were ill-intentioned Court Ladies who looked at the Young Master with hunger and at Suiren with envy; some were trusted allies like Maamei and Taomei, who couldn't imagine managing a manor with no help, and some were even curious girls making small talk, like Xiaomao and Miss En'en. Suiren usually answered vaguely, but sincerely: it was safer and it was rewarding. But, selfishly, there was a personal reason she never brought up:

Suiren had the Young Master's trust and she would never put it in jeopardy, not even for herself. 

So she avoided asking for help, not that she could find ladies that matched her expectations, unless they were excepctional. But incredible women like them were usually busy making sure the Young Master wasn't buried in petty politics, saving the Young Master's life or simply serving their own Young Mistress, and Suiren would never take anyone out of their place in life. This was her life's call, anyway, and she couldn't say she regretted answering it.

This is probably quite enough. Suiren thought as she stepped into the Young Master's room. She watched as he pretended to wake up, as if he hadn't had his eyes open for at least ten minutes of staring at a wall. 

As always, she pretended to believe him. 

“Good morning, Young Master.” She said, injecting some cheer into her voice. It wasn't hard, watching him rub his eyes and yawn always warmed her heart.

Cute. She thought, smiling. Xiaomao is right, though, this is the type of vision that would get him dragged into a dark alley. 

He sat up with difficulty and she waited patiently. She had helped him do that the first few mornings, but after a week he had waved her off. He casually dismissed her so she could tend to breakfast. It was excellent timing since, when she arrived at the villa's kitchen, Miss Chue was about to drop one of her cooking experiments into the congee. Miss Chue's personality had taken some getting used to, but of course Taomei wouldn't send an untrained daughter-in-law to her. Didn't stop her from grabbing the fistful of ginger from the young woman's hand. 

“Please, set out the table, Miss Chue.” Receiving a cute pose from the girl before she scampered off, Suiren turned back to the congee and tasted it. Thankfully, it retained its original taste. 

Plating the congee and the side dishes, Suiren noticed they were quickly taken off the counter. She didn't bother checking the served table. Miss Chue's vibrant laughter and cute mannerism didn't hide her competence for absolutely anything except being proper, so she knew the table would be to her standards. Leaving the kitchen, she arrived just in time to greet the Young Master and pinch Miss Chue's side so she bowed as well, but not without an exaggerated yelp. 

After the Young Master finished breakfast, Suiren and Miss Chue cleaned up as he morosely said he would go to the villa's office to get started on his paperwork. Gaoshun followed him, shoulder as heavy as the moment he appeared at the villa with the new assignment from the Emperor. Suiren couldn't say she felt differently, but didn't say anything. The mood had even taken a more severe dive upon the announcement of the mandatory trip to the Western Capital. The day passed as slowly as honey dripping from a spoon, the Young Master barely reacting during snack times and meals other than the proper thanks. 

She knew he was only moving along automatically, waiting for a specific bright spot in his day. 

Xiaomao arrived quietly, greeting her and Miss Chue with a proper bow before getting embroiled in the latter's antics. The medical court lady accepted a salty snack and tea to warm her up from the outside weather, making stilted small talk as if Suiren wouldn't notice she was fishing for updates on the Young Master's health, which remained unchanged from her last visit. Miss Chue, always perceptive, noticed as well, eyes glinting and hiding a smile behind her right sleeve. 

Before Suiren had to find another euphemism to reiterate that yes, the Young Master had been eating well and sleeping as much as usual, he emerged from his office. The change was noticeable as soon as he stepped into the room: his eyes lit up at the sight of her, shoulders relaxing slighter and the corners of his lips lifting up into a not-quite-smile. It made him look younger, around his own age.

Xiaomao didn't change a lot when she saw him, though, face still placid. But Suiren couldn't be fooled, the girl's eyes stayed glued to the Young Master, drinking him in as if she could somehow figure out his health from staring. 

“Maomao, how was your day?” The Young Master asked, looking like he genuinely wanted to know the answer. Gaoshun let out a small sigh by his side. 

“Fine.” Said Xiaomao, looking like she genuinely didn't care to give him a proper answer. “Let’s step inside, sir? It 's late.”

Pouting at her non-answer, the Young Master led her to his bedroom door and opened it with unnecessary flourish. Rolling her eyes at his silliness, she stepped inside and was quickly followed by him. The door closed and Gaoshun stood guard. Miss Chue whistled and wiggled her eyebrows, a dirty joke on the tip of her tongue that was only held back by Gaoshun's exasperated face. Wouldn't want that getting back to Taomei, after all. 

The two women started cleaning up and soon parted ways, Miss Chue to check if the clothes had dried and Suiren to prepare the ingredients for breakfast the next day. Her hands worked automatically, body soothed by the familiar work. But her mind was in disarray. As much as Xiaomao talked to her normally, Suiren couldn't help but see a glint in her eyes. Xiaomao herself probably didn't notice how she was looking at Suiren. The apothecary never liked talking about troublesome things, so she probably didn't like thinking about it either. 

But the glint in her eye was unmistakable: betrayal . 

Suiren knew there was a chance someone would look like her after what she had done. Detachedly, she was relieved it was Xiaomao’s eyes accusing her. As she had prepared for the Young Master’s stunt, she had been haunted by the vision of Ah Duo glaring at her, betrayed. Suiren had still prepared the brand anyways, out of her own volition. 

Suiren had the Young Master's trust and she would never put it in jeopardy, not even for herself.

After her Young Master had burned a brand into his own flank, Suiren had been called immediately to the villa they were situated in. Plausible deniability guaranteed she couldn't be punished, but the Emperor must know it couldn't have been prepared by anyone but her. They accounted for the fact that there was no one trusted enough to take care for him except her when they planned, so there was nothing that could be done. Suiren had been cowardly glad that the Emperor decided to keep the situation only between her and Gaoshun, not even Miss Chue had been told what happened clearly. There was still a chance he would privately tell Ah Duo, his most trusted confidant, but it was a chance she would take. 

Suiren remembered clearly how the Young Master had looked as he explained his plan, a desperate bid for control: his appearance had been impeccable as always, as she had dressed him the same day. But the shadows beneath his eyes were deep purple and his gaze was growing more and more frantic as he watched her expression turn into horror while he revealed the written request he wanted her to deliver. An iron poker with Empress Gyokuyou's crest, which he planned to use to mark himself like a common slave. 

“Please, Suiren.” He had begged, tears lining his eyes but never falling. He knew better than that. “You're the only one I can count on.”

And it had been true. No one else would let him mutilate himself this way, not the Moon Prince. But Suiren had another situation flash in front of her eyes. A young woman begging her to be the head maidservant of the household of a prince not even ten years of age, obligated to move away from the Empress Dowager's home due to tradition. The woman, like the young master, wouldn't let her tears fall, not even in front of her own mother. 

“Please, mom.” Ah Duo had asked. She had her arms crossed, posture straight, but she was tapping her finger on one of her crossed arms. One of her nervous tells that her son would pick up in the future. “There's no one else I can ask.”

Suiren had never been able to say no to her daughter, nor her grandson. Not when it really mattered. Thankfully, Lady Anshi, the Empress Dowager, just sighed in relief when Ah Duo made the suggestion. 

“There isn't anyone I would trust more with Zuigetsu.” Lady Anshi had said, the hint of vulnerability in her eyes reminding Suiren of the little girl she had been when they first met. “I know you'll take care of him.”

Suiren tried to be as firm as she could with the child, to make up for the helplessness she felt as Ah Duo continued this farce of a baby switch. She never let Zuigetsu shirk his responsibilities, always took away the toys he focused dangerously hard on and never called him by his personal name. The last one had been a source of great distress to him, but she never gave in. 

“I can't call you that, Young Master.” Suiren said, unable to look him in the eye. By her side, Gaoshun had stared at the wall. “Only His Majesty has permission to.”

“But I'm telling you to call me that, Suiren!” Little Zuigetsu had said, stomping his feet. Gaoshun sighed, they had been unsuccessfully trying to abolish that bad habit. “I'm giving permission!”

“I'm sorry, Young Master.” Was all Suiren could answer while swallowing the lump in her throat. 

Zuigetsu had looked devastated. “That's not fair! Is it even my name if no one can call me that?!”

He had left, slamming the door. She and Gaoshun stood quietly for a while, agreeing but unable to say it out loud. At the time, household full of new servants,  any missteps would cause talk and she could lose her position. So she watched as the Moon Prince grew resigned to owning nothing: not his body, not his toys and certainly not his name. She had always been proud of her Young Master's maturity and adaptability, convincing herself all the corners she cut to make sure he grew up faster were worth it. However, a part of her couldn't help but mourn the sweet boy neither she nor Ah Duo had been fully able to protect, lost between the mask of Jinshi The Eunuch and The Moon Prince. 

Until he changed, again. It had happened slowly, but once she noticed she couldn't unsee it. His better mood, sincere willingness to visit the Rear Palace, lighter step and honest smile. When she asked Gaoshun, they commiserated together over the answer: a servant girl obsessed with poisons and medicine who looked at him like he was a disgusting worm. The Young Master loved playing favorites with things, it was a matter of time before his focus shifted to people too. She hoped they wouldn't have to send the poor girl home with a severance package before it was too late. 

In the end, they didn't have to, as he did it himself. It plunged him into a depression she hadn't seen since he had been separated from the Empress Dowager and told he couldn't visit Ah Duo as often as he did before. But the girl came back, the Young Master buying her courtesan contract (and hadn't those words nearly given Suiren a heart attack when she first heard them?) and she finally got to meet her. Xiaomao was a cute girl with big, calculating eyes and sneaky hands. She was competent, smart, kind and, above everything, loyal. 

At first, Suiren had been sure Xiaomao was another type of toy he had been obsessed with, adapted to his work's sensibilities and a young man's taste. She also knew it was not in his nature to force himself on the unwilling, and neither was it in Xiaomao's, so she was never bothered with leaving them alone. Now, looking back, she realized how foolish she was. Young Master was no longer so young, nor was Xiaomao anything close to a toy. 

She watched him throw away his work of seven years, effectively killing Jinshi The Eunuch and donning Zuigetsu The Moon Prince once again, all to save that young woman. It was another act of self-mutilation, in a way, shedding his safe persona to plunge back into a treacherous court. Always quick to hurt themselves for others, her grandson and her daughter.  Since then, she realized he had no limits when it came to Xiaomao, so she prepared herself for when he would ask something Suiren would feel unwilling to give but still would anyway. That night, she delivered the brand and coals to the villa and got him ready for dinner, knowing exactly what would happen. 

Please, Suiren. His eyes had begged, closing her hand into a shaky fist over the paper with the brand preparations. Help me keep her. 

Maybe the worst part is that she didn't regret doing it at all. 

Shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts, Suiren finished her task before covering everything with a heavy cloth and sighing. It was truly getting late now, and Xiaomao and the Young Master were still in his room. As much as she respected their privacy, the least they could do was either have Xiaomao leave at a respectable hour or officially stay the night. She winced slightly, she didn't envy the Young Master for having to face Grand Commandant Kan if he chose the latter. 

Getting close to the door, she nods at Gaoshun, who seems to be ignoring everything as best as he could. Still, his shoulders were slightly slumped. The Young Master's noises of pain were the reason she stayed far from his room during the treatment, each cry breaking her heart and she knew Gaoshun wasn't unaffected. He had help raise the Young Master, too. As if to torment her, the prince let out a pained grunt and she and Gaoshun winced in unison. 

“That's what you get for doing something so stupid.” She heard Xiaomao grumble and Suiren couldn't be sure if she truly meant that or if it was the sort of thought the apothecary believed stayed only in her head. “Bet you're regretting pulling this stunt right now.”

There was another pained grunt and the silence was filled with panting for a minute. 

“I don't.” The Young Master said, sounding like he was catching his breath. However, his tone was firm. “I don't regret it at all.”

“Then you are an idiot.” Xiaomao snapped, voice so low Suiren almost didn't hear her. 

“It's fine if I am.” He said, sincere. “If I get to keep what's important close to me, then I'll be an idiot forever.”

The two inside the room stayed quiet for another moment and Suiren and Gaoshun shared a look. Was their Young Master going to manage a step forward?

“You need to take your analgesics right now.” Ah, here comes Xiaomao with two steps back. “They might make you drowsy, so it's best to lie down after drinking.”

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep, then?” The Young Master asked softly.

“Master Jinshi…”

No one else called him that name anymore, except for her. It used to be another burden for him, Suiren knew. The Young master had not particularly liked to be an eunuch who flirted freely any more than he liked being a charming prince. But between the first time Xiaomao called him “Master Jinshi” and this very moment, something shifted so thoroughly that Suiren could tell this name was now his favorite. His own name, not anyone else's, and she looked forward to the day he would officially ask her to call him that, too. 

“Just this once” He begged, a pout audible in his voice. 

Xiaomao sighed. “Just this once.”

There was silence, again, and Suiren waited a few moments before knocking on the door. When no one answered, she went in anyway, mentally asking the Young Master to forgive her. Xiaomao was sitting on the bed and didn't seem to have noticed her coming in, too focused on the man holding her waist as he laid his head on her lap. She stroked his dark hair, hand occasionally descending to the scar on his face. He looked so peaceful sleeping on her lap, face appearing younger. He looked less like a refined prince and more like a pouty, teasing and kind young man. One only Xiaomao had been able to bring out of him, by the simple virtue of being herself. 

The scene in front of her was sweet, but Suiren still had a duty. Clearing her throat, she watched as Xiaomao jumped and dislodged the Young Master from her lap. Thankfully, the analgesic seemed to have truly knocked him out. Xiaomao wiped her hands across her skirts and bowed to Suiren, mumbling about a medication routine she had already memorized. 

“Xiaomao.” Suiren said, watching as the girl collected her stuff to leave. Once Xiaomao's wide eyes were on her, she said as sincerely as she could: "Thank you for taking care of him.”

She watched as the apothecary opened her mouth before quickly closing it again, sneaking a glance at the sleeping young man on the bed. Then, Xiaomao solemnly bowed her head and started walking towards the door. 

“Good night, Lady Suiren.” She said, leaving her alone in the room with her grandson. 

Watching the boy she raised, Suiren smiled at the memory of Xiaomao's hands stroking his hair. As much as he doesn't want to let go of her, it seems like she doesn't want to let go of him, too.