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“Really, Yue, you ask so much of me.”
Ah-Duo says this with a laugh, but Jinshi knows she speaks the truth. After all, it’s not every day that he approaches her with a request to house Shi clan survivors. To think that he’s doing it twice now is ludicrous, even to him.
Even so…
“I would like you to look after her, if you could.” As a prince, it is improper of him to incline his head to a former consort. Regardless, he does so.
Ah-Duo pets his hair. Reluctantly, he doesn’t lean into the familiar touch.
“Worry not, I’ll take her in. Just tell me this first – what’s her name?”
Jinshi raises his head but doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’m told she prefers the name Shisui.”
◘~◘~◘
The last time he saw Loulan, she was dancing. In spite of the heavy snow at her feet and the line of feifas directed at her, she performed her last act with all the presumptive dignity and feline grace of a once-in-a-lifetime villainess. Although she hailed from a line of tanuki, Jinshi believed she was more like a vixen, the kind that stories of old forewarned against. He could have stopped her, but he didn’t dare. This was her final act. He would have been a fool to interfere.
Loulan danced, beautiful and weightless, until she could dance no more. A bullet landed in her chest and in spite of Suirei’s attempts to save her, she fell. Droplets of blood and a series of footsteps in the snow were all that was left of Loulan of the Shi.
In the ensuing silence, the Moon Prince took charge.
“It’s over. You there, give that woman your cloak.”
Jinshi made sure to point at a soldier who he knew had a soft heart. The man, older than him by some years, nodded solemnly and approached Suirei. Although the woman – apparently his cousin – did not cry aloud, the sobs which racked her body were violent enough to be noticeable. The soldier spoke softly to her as he wrapped his cloak around her shuddering body. Jinshi hoped he wasn’t attempting to console her – that would be useless, after it all.
As he pondered how he would convince the Emperor to grant clemency to Suirei, the Moon Prince directed his soldiers to descend and recuperate. The war was over.
Then, he was back at camp, being treated for his cheek wound. The medic’s hands shook and the soldiers around them cringed, but Jinshi bore the treatment without need for anesthetics. Somewhere in the background, he could hear Basen receiving punishment for his failure to protect their prince. Jinshi closed his eyes, willing himself to bear the stabbing of the needle and the heavy frustration of not being able to defend his milk sibling.
Then, he was led by Gaoshun to where Maomao was resting. She was with the dead children of the Shi, a fact which left a horrid taste in Jinshi’s mouth. Yet the relief of finally seeing her again, safe and whole, overtook the disgust, and he was able to approach her.
Then, they spoke. She confessed that while she and Loulan were close, she wasn’t sure if they were friends. But the pain in her voice told him that they were, indeed, something very much like friends, at least for his typically standoffish apothecary. So he was careful with his words when he informed her that Loulan was gone. He expected her to cry, but instead she kept stock still, perhaps staring at the top of his head, or perhaps staring at a memory Jinshi would never be privy to.
Then, she asked if he would like to rest. In spite of their circumstances, he laid right there in the carriage, holding tight to Maomao’s wrist so that she would lay beside him.
They talked of the children. They discussed the origins of Maomao’s injuries. He reminded her to not let her scratches turn to scars, only to have his worry turned back upon him. To his surprise, however, she agreed that a scar might yet do him some good. She even called him manly!
Could he be blamed for allowing his instincts to take over him, then? He had never imagined that Maomao of all people would grant him such a wonderful compliment. All those horrid days of wondering if she was in one piece caught up to Jinshi and metamorphosed into hungry, burning desire to kiss her and finally claim her as his.
But then the vixen had one last surprise for him.
The children awoke.
◘~◘~◘
The first time he met Shisui, she was wrapped in bandages and held tight to her sickbed.
It was nearly a month after the Shi rebellion had been squashed. Maomao was living in her old home in the pleasure district, attending to her father’s apothecary shop while also watching over one of the surviving children, Kyou’u, now renamed Chou’u. Although there were four other children who had awoken from a dead slumber, he was the only one who had lost all his memory. To protect his already-addled mind, he was separated from them.
Meanwhile, the other four were living with Ah-Duo in the villa granted to her by the Emperor. To Jinshi’s surprise, his brother had been rather magnanimous and gone along with the first of Loulan’s final wishes. Perhaps, after losing three of his heirs, he wasn’t inclined to see the deaths of anymore children, regardless of their origins. Or perhaps he was only inclined to save the life of his niece, as Suirei was part of Jinshi’s plea for mercy. Or perhaps he was just in a good mood because several major headaches had been resolved. Jinshi would never know.
With Suirei and the Shi children safely hidden away, Jinshi returned to his duties as Moon Prince. It was a difficult transition at first, as he hadn’t publicly been in this role for over six years. The work was monumental and the stares only as lascivious as they always were. His sole relief was his day off, where he would use treatment of his face scar as pretense to see Maomao. During one of these visits, it occurred to him that he would soon be asking her to be his wife, and that filled him with an overabundance of both joy and nervousness. Surely, though, she would accept, and he would be able to make her his one and only.
Then , a letter arrived on his desk. It distinguished itself from the rest by being remarkably lightweight in Jinshi’s palm. When he tore open the protective packaging, he found just one sheaf of paper, addressed to him but written entirely in code. It was a cipher utilized exclusively by the Mi clan. As one of the few people whom the Mi served, Jinshi knew how to decode the letter. In short time, he learned that the once-in-a-lifetime villainess had survived.
Claiming that the Moon Prince wanted to personally oversee the reclamation of the Northern Province, Jinshi set out for a few days of travel. Luckily for him, they did not have to go as far as the remnants of the Shi stronghold. Rather, a little more than halfway to the capital of the Northern Province, their carriages stopped in a small city that functioned as a trading post and meeting center for various farming villages in the surrounding area. Wearing a mask and lightly guarded, the Moon Prince was led to a clinic on the outskirts of town. The building they directed him into was tall, yet rather cramped, so Jinshi took the lead for the upstairs climb.
Then, there she was. A woman once known as Loulan. Although, if Jinshi’s hunch was correct, she very much preferred the name Shisui.
“Hello,” he greeted.
She was laying in a bed, her right arm and torso wrapped up tightly. For her modesty, the physician had dressed her in a blue robe. But since it couldn’t be tied tightly, Jinshi could still clearly see where she was bleeding from her bullet wounds. A blanket had also been lain over her legs, but he suspected one or both of her legs were broken. In spite of her many injuries, the physician had used rope to effectively tie her down by her waist and bound her to the bed. Perhaps he had somehow learned her true identity. Jinshi doubted Shisui would be stupid enough to actually threaten or hurt the person saving her life.
On the carriage ride here, he met up with the operative who had found Shisui. According to them, Loulan had been found far away from the Shi fortress, dragging herself through the snow. The person who had discovered her was a poor farmer entirely unrelated to the Shi. By bartering with her jewelry, they were able to get her the immediate treatment she required. Once she had been deemed safe to travel, they had moved her to a neighboring town to be overseen by the local apothecary. That was where the Mi operative happened to stumble upon her. Now, she was here.
As Jinshi took in the room, he requested Loulan be unbound. What danger did a heavily injured woman actually serve? More to the point, she had had ample opportunity back in the Shi stronghold to kill him. Yet, instead, she had told him a story, one that would end with her and her clan’s demise. Then, she had given him a monumental slip of paper and requested two promises from him.
The first was to let those who have already died once, go free.
The second he wore proudly upon his face. He wasted no time exposing his face to her, allowing her to see that her final goodbye to her mother had instead become his pride. Shisui smiled when she saw it. It was familiar – she had granted a smile like it back in the Shi stronghold. It remained as mysterious and alluring as it had then.
“Greetings, Your Majesty,” she said.
He sat down on a chair provided for him. “Good evening. Should I call you Shisui?”
Her vixen smile softened into something more sincere. “Yes, if you would.”
With a wave of his hand, Jinshi dismissed all but one of his guards. Basen remained – he believed that it would be good if Basen witnessed how Loulan truly was.
Jinshi pondered for a moment about how to begin this conversation. There was so much to discuss, from her survival to her sister to that slip of paper. It was difficult to choose just one.
Shisui made the choice for him. “Should I call you Master Jinshi?”
Basen tensed besides him. Jinshi raised his hand, stilling his milk sibling’s impulse. “If you would. I find it much easier.”
He thought he heard her giggle. But it was so gentle, he wasn’t sure if his ears were playing tricks on him. Regardless, Shisui seemed to relax in his presence.
“May I ask how you found me?” she began, crossing her arms over her lap.
“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that,” he replied.
“Ahhh, I understand. The crown has eyes everywhere, is that it?”
His silence was his answer.
Shisui nodded. “How unfortunate. I was planning to begin a new life, somewhere across the sea. Stories about the eastern continent have entranced me for many years, I would have loved to finally witness it for myself.”
A part of him wished he could tell her that she would be allowed to fulfill her dream, but they both knew that possibility had ended the moment a person of the Mi stumbled across her. Instead, he told her,
“Your sister and the children are safe.”
Her smile brightened immensely. She was indeed a beautiful woman, Jinshi reflected, although not nearly as stunning as Maomao.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m happy you fulfilled both your promises.”
He could feel Basen’s gaze boring holes into his shoulder. The man was obviously curious, which only made Jinshi cautious that his milk brother might piece together Loulan’s promises with the peculiar cut on the Moon Prince’s face. Back in the stronghold, the sight of blood on Loulan’s nails had been enough for Basen to order the soldiers into action. Jinshi didn’t want to think about how Basen might feel if he learned that his charge had acquired a face wound of his own accord.
Ignoring Basen with all his might, Jinshi asked Shisui, “How did you survive?”
In an instant, her joyous smile shuttered into a mysterious grin. How she could switch so quickly nearly overthrew Jinshi. “A gift from a friend. I still have it on me, if you would like to see.”
He gave his assent. With her good arm, Shisui hoisted herself into a sitting position. It occurred to him that her injuries must have been severe, if she was still bleeding and having trouble moving nearly a month after the war. Was surgery required? He would have to ask that next.
That thought flew away from him the moment Shisui revealed her friend’s gift. From her bosom, she produced a silver hair stick. The decoration was deformed, but Jinshi would have recognized it anywhere.
“Maomao!” he exclaimed, standing.
Without looking at him, Loulan explained. “She told me to give it back to her someday. I told her I might sell it, but I haven’t gotten around to it, you see.”
Jinshi wanted to snatch his hair stick back from her, but the way she cradled it in her fingers gave him pause. For a moment, he believed he saw a loving sadness in her eyes. The next moment, however, she directed her gaze at him and beatifically offered the hair stick to him.
“Could you give it back to her? You were the person who originally gifted it to her, were you not?”
Instead of answering her, he said, “Give it back to her yourself.”
Her mask fell, just for a second. Then her vixen smile was back, entreating and enchanting. “You would do that for me, Master Jinshi?”
“I do it for her, not for you,” he resolutely responded.
Shisui looked between him and the hair stick one last time before tucking it in a breast pocket. “If you say so,” she declared with a dramatic sigh, as if he had imposed too much upon her. Jinshi resisted the urge to chuckle.
Sitting back down, he re-directed the conversation to Shisui’s activity in the past month. She confirmed the Mi’s report – that she had been found by a peasant farmer unrelated to the Shi. A few of the bones in her legs were fractured, with one in the left leg broken in half. She also had a bullet wound on her right shoulder, preventing her from using the arm without significant issue. The local apothecary had treated her arm and broken bones, but she hadn’t received any surgical intervention until she arrived here. She could walk with a limp now, but she largely preferred to remain seated.
“And as to why you were tied to your bed…?”
Shisui laughed. “The good doctor heard an important individual from the capital was coming to meet with me. He must have assumed I’m some awful murderer.”
In a way, she was. Although she wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger, she had goaded her mother into firing the faulty feifa, ultimately leading to Shenmei’s demise. More than that, Loulan had orchestrated the fall of her entire clan. Jinshi wasn’t sure how much of the plan had been Loulan’s or if Loulan had simply played along with her mother’s schemes while planting seeds of failure along the way, but the end result had been sure – now only her, her sister, and the children were all that were left of the former rulers of the Northern Province.
Still, when Jinshi thought of that stronghold and his precious few moments with Loulan and Suirei in the hidden passage, he was left only with awe. There was no resentment n or malice.
In another way, Loulan was everything Jinshi wish ed he could’ve been. Cunning, brilliant, and decisive, she really could have had the entire world at her fingertips.
Instead, she chose to save the country from the sins of her mother.
It was an easy decision to make, then, bringing Shisui back to the capital with him. After conferring with the doctor, it was decided that a handful of the most trusted court physicians would be sent to Shisui’s location to examine her injuries and put her on the road to recovery. Once she was cleared to travel, she would be transported to the capital and introduced to Ah-Duo.
In the meantime, the Moon Prince would convince the Emperor to protect her identity. He suspected it wouldn’t be that difficult, as Loulan had bequeathed unto Jinshi a monumental slip of paper which predicted a number of unfortunate calamities that were likely to visit the nation in the coming years. Her life, in exchange for her knowledge. Loulan wouldn’t be the first person to survive under such circumstances.
That day, Jinshi left with his retinue and a plan. In little more than two months time, Shisui joined him.
◘~◘~◘
“She is a lovely one,” Ah-Duo comments, standing next to Jinshi as they watch a limping Shisui reunite with the children. From behind the gaggle, Suirei stands, shocked and slack. In the interest of not getting anyone’s hopes up, he hadn’t informed her of her sister’s survival.
“Yes, I agree,” Jinshi says. He’s not sure if Ah-Duo recognizes Shisui as former consort Loulan. For propriety’s sake, there certainly never was a meeting between the Pure Consorts. Even if she does, however, he thinks it likely doesn’t matter at all to Ah-Duo. She was never one to let such things like status and identity get in her way.
As the two of them talk, Suirei finally snaps out from her stupor and rushes to hug her sister. To both Ah-Duo and Jinshi’s amusement, she nearly lifts Shisui, only to stumble back from the effort. The children around them laugh and hug the sisters’ legs, shouting something Jinshi can’t quite make out.
“The villa is going to be much livelier from here on out, I can tell.” Ah-Duo guffaws and goes to join the group.
He watches them, tempted to join. But he knows he would be terribly out of place, as the benefactor behind the happy occasion, so he chooses to stay back.
Rather, as he marvels at Shisui’s bright smile, he wonders about the last person who needs to know the truth. It was difficult, not immediately telling her that her friend was still alive. But when he learned the full extent of Shisui’s injuries, he knew that there was a chance, however slim, that her health could turn for the worst. That was the nature of life – it came and went on a whim. If he couldn’t bear to let Suirei suffer lose Shisui twice, then he certainly couldn’t do the same to the love of his life.
Alas, it would be another six days before Jinshi’s schedule allows him to make a trip to the pleasure district. With a heavy heart and anxious hands, he resigns himself to waiting, as he already has for the past two months.
◘~◘~◘
When his day off finally arrives, Jinshi wastes no time taking a carriage to the Verdigris House. The city is still waking up, the sun slowly rising over the horizon as the horse pulls him to his destination. He wonders if he’ll be able to see Maomao this early in the morning. Sadly, he soon learns that not even she is awake at this time of day, so he is forced to wait in her apothecary shop for what feels like a whole dual hour.
She is in a rush when she finally does arrive.
“Master Jinshi!” she declares as she stumbles into the shop. “I didn’t expect you so early.”
A soft smile raises to his lips as he watches her hurry to accommodate him. The madam already gave him a soft pillow, excellent tea, and snacks, so there is little for Maomao to actually do besides sit and bow. Still, he sees her fidget with her clothes and hair, making sure she appears presentable. In Jinshi’s honest opinion, she would be beautiful to him even if she was caked in mud. But he won’t tell her that, because she wouldn’t believe him.
“Good morning to you, as well, Maomao,” he greets. Tucking his smile away, he moves onto the topic at hand. “Don’t get comfortable. I’ve already informed the madam that I require your services today.”
Maomao blinks at him, evidently surprised. “May I ask which services?”
Since Gyokuyou was promoted to Empress, Maomao has lost her role as a poison tester. In the time since, she has returned to her work as an apothecary. While most of Jinshi’s visits lead to him catching up on rest, they also occasionally discuss quandaries related to his work.
Still, he can’t help but notice that they are currently within a brothel and that there are many services a young woman can provide in such a place.
Resisting the perverted thoughts that creep into his mind, Jinshi clears his throat and says, “I need your help with an issue at the palace today.”
She blinks, evidently surprised. “That would be…?”
“A surprise,” he responds with a grin.
He must have accidentally leaned into his former eunuch tendencies, because Maomao looks at him as though he were moldy porridge. A ripple of pleasure races down his spine, a familiar aching for her to disapprove of him more. It’s an odd sensation, one which never fails to fascinate him. But this is hardly the time to indulge in his own strange fantasies, so he settles for chuckling at her expression and saying,
“It is nothing horrible, I promise.”
That seems to settle her. Her expression returns to its usual neutrality as she says, “Very well. Let me prepare some things and I’ll be ready to go.”
Jinshi watches as she shuffles around her small shop, pulling out packages from drawers and stuffing some of them into her clothes. He has heard from Suiren that Maomao carries many a concoction on her person at all times, so he is rather pleased to watch her prepare just that. She must be expecting something terrible, though, because she tucks quite a few bags into her pockets.
Just as it seems that she is ready to go, Chou’u barges in, as he is so wont to do. He and Maomao chat about her leaving for the day, the boy becoming distraught and haughty the moment he learns he won’t be joining her. It almost makes Jinshi laugh, if he didn’t recognize the childlike desire to be with a family member at all times. He remembers when he was obsessed with what little time he could have with his mother, Anshi, and his brother, the Emperor. For a child who has lost all his memories and family, Maomao must be like a light shining in the dark.
Not for the first time, Jinshi regrets the decision to separate Chou’u from the other Shi children. But he still believes it is for the best to not destroy the boy’s already fragile mind with the full truth of his past.
Maomao brings a fist down on Chou’u’s head, and that’s the end of their argument. The boy insults her before running out. Coolly, she informs Jinshi that she’s ready to go.
◘~◘~◘
Although it’s already difficult for Jinshi to keep his eyes off Maomao, it becomes impossible once they finally arrive at their destination.
She appears confused when she realizes they are at Ah-Duo’s villa, but a quick glance at Jinshi is all she does before seemingly accepting the situation. He wonders what she thinks the situation is as the home’s owner comes out to greet them.
“Today’s the special day, huh?” Ah-Duo asks, grinning at Jinshi and his small retinue of Maomao and Basen, who is here as the Moon Prince’s guard.
Maomao blinks. “Special?” she asks with the tiniest of frowns.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” the older woman questions. “Really, Yue, you love your surprises, don’t you?”
Jinshi grimaces. “Not particularly.”
He feels a pointed glare from Maomao, but when he looks at her, it’s gone. Instead, she says to Ah-Duo, “May I ask what is happening today?”
“I think she’d like to tell you that herself,” Ah-Duo responds cryptically. With a wave of her arm, she welcomes her guests inside.
They are led to a large room with a balcony. A long table is set up there, with several chairs surrounding it. Tall trees shield the balcony from prying eyes while providing ample shade to escape the heat. Jinshi has only seen this room once before, when Ah-Duo was showing him around her new home a year or so ago.
The table is already set with various snacks and drinks. At the end typically meant for the host, Suirei is standing. When she sees the small group approach, she bows and quickly departs, slightly dragging one foot as she goes.
“What’s going on?” Maomao finally asks, her irritation evident. Jinshi makes a mental note not to keep secrets from her again.
“A happy occasion,” Ah-Duo replies, taking her seat at the end of the table. Jinshi follows her example, sitting on her right. Basen does the same, taking the seat next to his charge. With obvious reluctance, Maomao sits next to Basen.
They don’t have to wait long, thankfully. A pair of female servants open the door Suirei left through, and out comes the Shi sisters. With twin limps, Suirei and Shisui walk towards the table, the former supporting the latter’s weight.
In an instant, Maomao is on her feet. “Shisui?!” she exclaims, nearly tripping over her chair as she rushes towards her friend.
Shisui extracts herself from her sister’s hold to open her arms and pull Maomao into a hug. “It’s me!” she declares with a beautiful giggle.
A small part of Jinshi expects Maomao to cry. S he doesn’t, of course she doesn’t , because she is made of much tougher stuff than that. What she does do, however, is shout, nearly at the top of her lungs, “Where have you been?!”
The noise startles everyone, including Maomao. Ending the hug, she covers her mouth, a gesture of embarrassment that is as rare as her raising her voice .
“Sorry,” he hears her mumble. Then, at a much more normal level, she asks again, “Where have you been?”
Shisui smiles, kind and mysterious. “Up north. I barely managed to escape with my injuries.”
“She was discovered in an apothecary’s shack, ironically enough,” Jinshi informs . The women turn to look at him, and he signals that the three of them should sit. They all do so, directly across from him and Basen.
Maomao looks at Jinshi , waiting for him to explain further. The slightest bit burdened by her heavy gaze, he drops his eyes while he tells her the truth he has been hiding for months now. As he speaks, he expects her to reproach him at some point, become furious with the fact that he didn’t tell her that her dear friend still drew breath.
But she does none of this. When Jinshi lifts his eyes again, he is met by a set of three satisfied smiles.
“I must thank you again for your magnanimity, Your Majesty,” Shisui declares, bowing her head. Suirei copies her, her nose nearly touching the table.
“Please, you needn’t do that,” Jinshi says, signaling for the women to raise their heads. Being back in this role, even after all this time, remains deeply uncomfortable, especially in front of Maomao, the on ly person who has ever treated him as an equal.
“If there is ever anything I can do for you—” Suirei begins.
“Oh! Me too, me too!” Shisui intrudes, knowing where her sister is going.
“Please—” Jinshi intercedes, attempting to stop them from making an offer he would be loathe to refuse.
“Oh, just let them!” Ah-Duo chortles, patting Jinshi on the shoulder.
Her intervention gives the sisters all the time they need to say, nearly in perfect unison, “If ever there is something we can do for Your Majesty, please do not hesitate to call upon your loyal subject.”
Jinshi sits back in his seat, frowning. This hadn’t been his intention at all. He only ever wanted to grant Maomao the happiness she so deserved. Never in a million years would he regret rallying the troops and invading the Shi stronghold to save her. But this? The insufferable allegiance, the reverence he did nothing to deserve, the responsibility on his shoulders that he may never be adequate enough to carry? He could happily do without it.
Jinshi risks a glance at the one he has done all this for. He can’t quite interpret Maomao’s expression, but her large eyes and curled-in lips suggests that she, too, has been made uncomfortable by his sudden rise in society.
He sighs. It is better to march forward than attempt to retreat, in this situation. In truth, the more information he can glean from Shisui and Suirei, the better. He simply hadn’t gotten to it yet, since they all needed time to settle into their new roles.
“I accept. I will call upon you when the time is right,” the Moon Prince promises. “For now, however, I would prefer to enjoy the happy occasion.”
At that, the sisters bow their heads, smile at each other, then look at Maomao with similar gazes of affection. Maomao, for her part, shies away from the sudden attention, yet noticeably can’t tear her eyes away from Shisui.
Certain that his presence is hampering them from speaking freely with each other, Jinshi decides to stand and make his way towards the balcony ledge. When Ah-Duo calls after him, he assures them that he only wants to take in the summer breeze, and that keeps them from trailing after him. The only one who does is Basen, acting as his guard.
He finds a suitably shaded spot, not too far away from the table, but certainly out of their line of sight. Jinshi rests against the railing there, and watches.
He watches as Shisui regales Maomao with the whole of her ordeal. Maomao listens avidly, sometimes taking her turn to speak, presumably to ask questions about Shisui’s physical condition. Suirei occasionally speaks, as well, perhaps adding more to the story. Jinshi wishes he could know, but he’s aware it’s not his space. The most he can truly allow himself is what he does right now, learning all the little ways Maomao changes when she is around a friend instead of a superior.
She is a bit livelier, he thinks. A bit more animated. She seems to smile more, as well, although sometimes he can’t tell if his eyes are playing tricks on him or not. What he can see clearly is that she is more relaxed, her shoulders low and drooping as she forgets to keep her back straight. The sight causes him to grin. He’s glad he was able to provide her with a nice surprise, even if she was irritated with him earlier.
What doesn’t please him as much is the way Shisui looks at her. Whenever Maomao directs her attention to Suirei, he swears there is longing in Shisui’s amber eyes, bittersweet and restrained. Not unlike the way she looked upon the hair stick, back when she had first revealed it to Jinshi.
But that longing gaze is gone in an instant when Maomao looks upon her again. The first time Jinshi spots it, he isn’t sure he actually saw it. But when it happens for the second, third time, he becomes certain that feelings beyond simple friendship reside within the former consort. The realization burns the inside of his chest, makes him grip the railing in a last ditch effort to not petulantly go back on all the work he had done in reuniting Maomao and Shisui. He hates himself for even having the thought, really, but the fact remains that he recognized love in her eyes.
But could he really begrudge her that? Maomao is an incredible woman. In comparison to all his years of lacking attraction to anyone and having to assess every person’s intentions with him, he fell for her in almost no time at all.
Yet it’s for that very same reason he can’t bear the idea of someone like Loulan harboring the same feelings for her. He is loathe to release his claim on her, not when he is so close to making her his.
But this isn’t the time for such thoughts.
Jinshi forces himself to close his eyes and breathe in through his nose, gradually filling his lungs the way he was taught, all those years ago when he began military training. It’s a method to steady oneself, to toughen one’s core before attempting a difficult task. He breathes in slowly, holds the air for five counts, then exhales just as slowly. Before he opens his eyes, he squashes the ill-timed fury, tucks it away for a later date.
He opens his eyes just in time to see Shisui reach into her breast pocket and retrieve a small, rectangular box. Jinshi can’t tell for certain from this distance, but it looks like something Ah-Duo owns. His presumption is proven correct a moment later when Shisui opens the box to reveal something that most certainly never belonged to Ah-Duo, but has passed through several hands nonetheless.
It’s the hair stick, the one that had been crafted for Jinshi’s use during the bi-annual garden parties. The one he had gifted to Maomao, during one of those parties. The one that Maomao had, for some reason or another, given to Shisui, and had subsequently saved her life.
Jinshi’s gaze locks onto Maomao’s face. She is seemingly blank-faced, as usual, but he can see that her eyes are wide. As Shisui carefully picks up the hair stick, she speaks of something that Jinshi can’t hear. If Maomao is listening to her, it’s hard to say, because her eyes are trained to the silver pin and its malformed decoration. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she lunges forward and hugs Shisui.
Worried, Jinshi hurries over. He makes it in time to hear Maomao sob out, “Thank goodness,” and instantly regrets daring to intrude. He turns on his heel to excuse himself again, but Ah-Duo catches his sleeve.
He doesn’t dare turn around and witness what is occurring behind him. But he can hear it. He can hear Maomao’s soft whimpers, Shisui’s comforting words, and what he suspects to be Suirei’s sniffling. To his mortification, when Shisui notices that her sister is indeed crying, that prompts her to break down into sobs. Ah-Duo finally releases him, leaving him free to run back to the balcony and hide under the trees, far away from the situation.
Basen is at his side the entire time. To Jinshi’s amusement, he notices that his guard and milk sibling hasn’t unaffected by the proceedings. That is the distraction he needs, teasing Basen while helping dry his tears.
So caught up in tending to his friend, Jinshi doesn’t notice when the commotion behind them calms down. He is only made aware of the fact when he feels someone tug on his sleeve. He turns to look at who it is and is utterly surprised to find that it’s Maomao, red-eyed and puffy-cheeked, but smiling, for once up at him.
“Thank you, Master Jinshi,” she says to him, sincere appreciation exuding from her every word.
His heart thuds in his chest, threatening to freeze completely. “M-M-M-M-M-Maomao?!”
All she does in reply is laugh under her breath at him and return to the table, where her friends eagerly await her.
Completely shocked still, Jinshi stays there at the balcony, watching as Maomao engages Shisui and Suirei in lively discussion. Ah-Duo eventually excuses herself to a small table near the railing, on the other side of the balcony from where he is. Somehow, that doesn’t stir Jinshi’s mind n or body, awest ruck as he is by Maomao’s gratitude. He hadn’t expected such a sweet smile from her, and it has filled him with more than a dozen of fantasies and uncouth ideas than he knows what to do with. It isn’t until Basen gently nudges him that Jinshi realizes he has been standing long enough for the sun to begin setting. It isn’t in the horizon just yet, so he allows Maomao to continue her time with her friends and instead joins Ah-Duo at her table. Someone serves him a meal alongside cooled tea and wine, in which he happily partakes, as he realizes that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. Somehow, the time slipped away from him completely.
“They’re a lively bunch,” Ah-Duo comments to him, at one point during their meal.
“She doesn’t usually speak this much,” he tells her.
“I know. Those girls are good friends. I’m glad they could be reunited.”
He smiles, the burn in his chest hushed by the knowledge of a job well done. “I am, as well.”
“Good work, Yue.”
“Oh, leave it.”
Ah-Duo laughs and that’s the end of that conversation. They move onto more mundane topics, things about affairs of the state and his return to public eye and Ah-Duo’s day-to-day. They aren’t the most interesting of topics, but eventually it is dusk, and they have to leave.
“Come visit again,” Ah-Duo says to both Jinshi and Maomao, once they are at their carriage.
Maomao looks at him, and Jinshi answers for the both of them, “Gladly.” Then he offers his brother’s former consort a good night and boards the carriage.
The ride home is silent, save for the sounds of Basen scarfing down the meal Jinshi had Ah-Duo’s staff prepare for him. Once that quiets down, there’s only the usual noises of carriage traffic and the bustling of people as they enter the town proper.
Maomao does something strange during the ride, however. At some point between the forested paths and the throng of people, Maomao gently takes hold of his sleeve.
When he looks at her, she surprises him once more, this time with the tiniest of grins.
“I wanted to thank you, Master Jinshi,” she says.
“You already did,” he reminds her, certain that his face is heating up.
“I know.” She looks away, twists one of the beads in her hair. “But you didn’t seem to understand.”
“I do,” he promises her. “I did.” If there weren’t company with them, he would dare to kiss her. He makes due by holding her hand, instead.
Maomao startles, but doesn’t pull away. But she does stubbornly look out the window of the carriage, which Jinshi can’t help but chuckle at. She can be so incredibly cute sometimes. He doesn’t know what else to do besides marry her for it.
Eventually, she does remove her hand, but it isn’t until they’re nearly at her home. He’s more than fine with that, his own hand warm from her touch. Once she’s out of the carriage, he allows himself a moment of weakness. He cradles the hand she held against his cheek, warming the scar Loulan left him.
There is still much to do, much to take care of. He needs to learn everything Shisui and Suirei know, he has to prepare for a trip out to the Western Capital, and he still has to finalize a design for the new hair stick he wants to give to Maomao. He’s not sure if the previous one is with her or remains with Shisui, so he makes a mental note to ask the next time he sees either of them. But if he wants to propose to Maomao, then he must do so with the best he can offer.
As the carriage begins its return to the palace, Jinshi looks outside the window, taking in the red lanterns illuminating the pleasure district at night. In the blurs of reds, yellows, and blue-black night, an idea finally arrives.
The moon with a bundle of poppies would do, wouldn’t it?