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Chapter Text

In the year 1644, the Kingdom of Qinyou fell in its war of national defense against the expeditionary forces of the Valenque Empire from across the hemisphere. Though it escaped the yoke of direct occupation, Qinyou was compelled to accept burdensome treaties, making concessions in all matters from its economy and politics to its very culture. Yet, with its ancient civilization and inherent strengths, the nation preserved its standing as a regional power.

Nearly three decades later, relations between Qinyou and Valenque appeared to have normalized. The two nations wore the guise of allies, yet the shadow of the treaties still loomed quietly over Qinyou. In 1677, in a second wave of expansion, Valenque annexed Hokuaren, Qinyou's northern neighbor. A mere year after, a coup erupted in Shaoh to Qinyou's west, and a pro-Valenque government was installed, catching Qinyou in a pincer's grip.

Just as Qinyou's fate seemed sealed, a border war broke out between Obrington and Valenque to the east in 1680, while Valenque's western marches rose in secession. The once-mighty empire was forced to split its strength, and shells and fire returned to its proud cities.

Half a world away, Qinyou kept its head low, as if the war had nothing to do with them.

Chapter Text

Citadel of Shunyang, Qinyou. Seventh month, 1683.

Pale afternoon light slanted into the study. It was not a large room, filled as it was with bookshelves and a desk where anatomical sketches lay in disarray. The air was not hot, but heavy with the damp scent of earth after a rain. Through the window at the chamber's rear, five mature apple trees stood crowded within a small garden, their blossoms in full bloom.

The weather, in this season, was often a reason for folk to feel their hunger sooner and take their evening meal earlier. But today, Physician Liu had no appetite. An ancient medical text entrusted to his care had vanished as if into thin air.

"Perhaps someone borrowed it and has not returned it."

Liu sighed, abandoning his search, and began to restore order to the shelves he had just torn through. A knock sounded at the door. It was about the fourth hour of the afternoon.

The visitor was a slender girl of about twenty years. Her hair was cut to a length just past her shoulders, left to fall naturally. At a glance, it was not the style of a Qinyou woman in these '80s.

(Author's Note: For the characters, the '80s refers to the period between 1680 and 1689.)

"I have come to pay my respects, sir."

The girl bowed with deep reverence. Physician Liu was uncertain of what he was feeling. It must have been a profound stirring, for he felt a warmth rise in his eyes and sinuses.

He dearly wished to step forward and pat the girl's head, but he supposed they were not so familiar as that. He cleared his throat softly, like an old man accustomed to sternness trying to hide the wavering balance of his own spirits.

"You have returned, then? Come in, sit."

Liu gestured, pulling a chair out for the girl. She sat with a quiet grace, her eyes taking in the room.

"Did everyone… return in full?"

"No, sir."

Her voice was natural, betraying no hint of emotion.

Liu closed his eyes, a heavy weight settling in his heart.

"If only we could have brought you all home sooner."

"That would have been difficult, sir, as everyone knew. We were also supported by the Valenque Medical Institute. To remain and stand with our fellow physicians through that time was the proper thing to do."

A pity we could not stay until the very end. The day they departed, the sky was still shrouded in haze, the color of the eyes of the children in Eyndra.

"Are those apple trees from Valenque, the ones you brought back?" the girl asked, her gaze following the blossoms as they drifted on the afternoon breeze.

"They are. Apples are a specialty of the Eyndra suburbs. At the time, we were not permitted to bring back books or research."

After relations had normalized, Qinyou would on occasion send its physicians to Valenque to study. Liu was of the first cohort. The girl belonged to a later one.

"The apples in Eyndra will likely struggle to bear fruit this year."

Liu nodded, not replying at once. The apple trees in the capital were nearly all dead, but they would grow again elsewhere, would they not? They even grew all the way here in Qinyou, after all.

"Perhaps I should propagate them," Liu mused, his tone laced with a bitter jest. "When peace returns to Valenque, I could make a small fortune selling them." He quickly regained his solemnity.

"So, aside from Physician Ren, the others returned?"

"The headcount is sufficient, for the most part. In more detail, Senior Kouyin has lost the use of one hand. Shou, one of the surgeons, is not well in his mind. It has been a long time since he could last hold a scalpel."

Liu's hands clenched into fists.

"All of them, young prodigies. And you, Physician Maomao? What about you?"

"I am well."

"Your hands..."

Liu’s gaze fell on her slender hands. An apothecary's hands always carried the indigo trace of their trade, a stain from years of preparing raw herbs. Now, new, deep scars lay across that mark.

"It is nothing. The tendons were not harmed. We all received a few scars. If not on our hands, then elsewhere."

Seeing the look on Liu's face, Maomao did not elaborate.

"Where are the others?"

"Arrangements were made for them to go home to their families. I merely took this chance to report to you."

In any case, she was not particularly close with her birth family.

"I heard you were missing for a long while."

"Yes, right before the border war."

"What happened?"

"I met with an accident and was saved by another."

She had arrived in Valenque in late 1677, disappeared during the winter recess of 1679, and returned to the city of Eyndra in the summer of 1680, just before the young physicians were scheduled to return to Qinyou. Both Valenque and Qinyou had reason to be suspicious of her, especially as the political cord between the two nations had been stretched taut by Valenque's arrogant maneuvers.

But before either side could act on their caution, the incident at St. Lara's Church in Obrington and the fire at the Crovemir print shop in western Valenque occurred in succession, marking the day that land sank into the smoke and fire of war.

"We could not send aid sooner."

That was true. From Qinyou, there were only two ways into Valenque. One was through the western seaport, the other also by sea, but that required permission to pass through the Strait of Obrington.

Qinyou, at least in theory, was still an ally of Valenque. During the border war, Obrington had colluded early on with Valenque's western secessionists, blocking all relief routes by sea. Maomao, the other physicians, and a few researchers in other fields suddenly became the last humanitarian aid Qinyou would send to Valenque.

It was not until the fifth month of 1682, after two years of negotiations, that Qinyou “reluctantly” signed a Non-Aggression Pact with Obrington and was at last able to bring its citizens home.

"Physician Ren… did he pass peacefully?"

"Peacefully enough. A single shot to the heart. There was no pain."

She did not tell him that by all logic, Physician Ren should not have been killed at that moment. Something more tangled lay beneath what she had witnessed with her own eyes.

Liu's features seemed to collapse, the wrinkles deepening on his face.

"He lived his entire life in devotion to medicine."

Maomao did not nod. Her gaze drifted emptily toward the bookshelf. Liu patted her shoulder again.

"To have returned alive is what matters."

The duty of medicine is to save others, but more important still is to protect oneself. A single doctor can save many common folk.

Not to mention, to die would be to die on foreign soil, in a country for which the people of Qinyou would never call their dead heroes. Liu did not say it, but he felt it would have been a waste.

"Have you seen Luomen yet?"

"Not yet, sir."

"He was sick with worry for you. You must let the old man know."

They spoke for a while longer, of the situation in Qinyou and at the borders, and of a few trivial things from Valenque that each was certain would not wound the other.

Around half-past five, dusk began to fall. It was still the season when the night is longer than the day. Maomao rose to take her leave.

"Perhaps that is not it, Physician Liu," she said, her voice quiet. "We do what is right because we believe it to be right, not for the praise of any man. It would be a fine thing, to be understood, but if no one understood what you were pursuing, you would still do it, would you not?"

That was the last thing she said before she departed. The small study was nestled in a courtyard of medicinal herbs, the air filled with the pungent scent of clove basil.

***

Memories of Yokai Harbor, of the Quilin night market, of a Shunyang that glittered with lanterns and flowers - they often returned to Maomao. After its defeat to Valenque in 1644, Qinyou had been forced to open its doors to Western merchants. Facing the threat of a cultural assault, the inherent patience of a nation with over two thousand years of history allowed the Qinyou court to continuously make sound diplomatic decisions.

Qinyou was not swept away by the tide of Westernization. On the contrary, it cultivated its own unique identity, born of an ancient culture. It learned to assimilate foreign knowledge, from science and technology to the arts, while nurturing the spirit of its people and preserving its traditional values.

But the grace and quiet contentment of Qinyou was a constant thorn in the side of the belligerent Valenque, for Qinyou had walked a path they did not wish for it. Valenque's takeovers in '77 were the clearest threat of all.

Maomao suddenly thought of the newsboy, before the Valenque Medical Institute each morning. A scrawny, red-haired lad with a face full of freckles would dash like an arrow into the institute, thrust a stack of seventeen newspapers at whoever he first met, and then, without a care for how they were distributed, leap upon his bicycle and vanish.

It was mainly through the daily papers that they followed the news of the war. By the end of summer '81, the red-haired boy no longer delivered her papers.

A dull ache started in Maomao's head. She did not understand why she could not recall Physician Ren's face with any clarity, yet remembered such fleeting details.

She did not go to visit Luomen, either. The procedures to enter the Inner Palace were complicated. He would have heard that she had returned safely, and that was enough. The days were long. It was not a time of war, where one must fear never meeting again.

"The Citadel of Shunyang has a church now."

It was the voice of Kaoru, another young physician who had returned with Maomao. He was not staying in the dormitory and planned to rent a room in the Western market, so they were sharing a carriage.

A church. Eyndra city once had a great many churches. But not many remained now. The Prince of Obrington had been assassinated in a church.

Maomao had always believed her memories of such places were faint. She had never sought to understand them, nor had anyone been patient enough to explain the meaning of those faiths to her. But perhaps she had been mistaken. Though she saw them as nothing more than great piles of brick and plaster, in some quiet, passive corner of her mind, these structures were still bound to the images of people she once knew.

They lived, or had once lived, and so the buildings that appeared with them were more alive.

Like the sight of Dr. Odela, rushing from Bellivern Church where she lived, for she was always, always late. Or like her young friend Elian, who always brought gifts of sweets to class after every major service. Or like the casual stories her colleagues at the Valenque Medical Institute told of activities at the cathedral.

Or perhaps it was Professor Massel, leading them as they turned over every broken brick of Dimitri Church, hoping to find someone, anyone, alive. But none of the 117 children there would ever cry or laugh again.

Or memory could soften into the image of a person, behind an abandoned church in a southern town, who led her out into the warmth of the spring sun, chasing away the moldy chill of a long winter.

"It is so beautiful."

"Truly, what a crowd."

"I wonder how many candles they must burn, Sister?"

Kaoru spoke with endless wonder of the capital at night. His home was in the countryside, he had gone to work in the palace and then directly to study abroad, so he had never truly had a chance to see Shunyang. Valenque's capital, Eyndra, was also highly developed, but a curfew was enforced at night. Except for the churches, libraries, and clinics that remained lit, most residents went to bed early.

"I heard Physician Liu say you are from here?" Kaoru asked, looking at her with admiration.

“I suppose,” Maomao mumbled. Few knew who her birth parents were. “It was not as bustling as this before.”

She was not lying. Six years away from home, and the city had grown beyond her recognition.

Kaoru talked on and on. He praised the night market, then the food stalls. Even the fat dogs that kept watch at the tavern doors earned his praise. Maomao's head ached. She could only pray for him to alight from the carriage soon.

***

"I have brought water for you to soak your feet, my lady."

Lin carefully set down the basin of herbal water, unable to resist stealing a curious glance at her mistress. The servants of the La household had long known that Grand Commandant Kan and his wife had a daughter who rarely came home, one who was currently studying abroad. But as to what she was studying, or in which country, no one was clear. There were only two things they had been taught with great care. One, the young miss and the madam did not have a good relationship. Two, despite this, the most luxurious East Wing of the residence was always kept empty and cleaned regularly, so that whenever the young miss returned, she would not have to wait for the maids to prepare her room.

"Just leave it there," Maomao said with a brief glance. "My feet are cold. Do not put perilla in it next time."

Lin stammered, "...Yes, my lady."

"Do you not know which is the perilla leaf?"

"I… I have only just begun my service. The herbs were prepared by Physician Yao from the Imperial Medical Bureau."

Maomao understood. A physician from the Bureau would only visit once every month or two. They spent most of their time working in the palace, unless specifically requested. She rummaged through her luggage, found a book on medicinal herbs, and showed the young girl.

"This is the leaf."

"I will remember."

"Very well, you may go and rest. Tell the other maids they need not stand guard at the door."

"But… that is our duty, my lady."

Lin bowed her head. To have displeased the young mistress twice already. The girl began to tremble slightly.

I had forgotten. This house is managed by that harsh woman. Maomao had no wish to make things difficult for the servants.

"As you wish."

Then she went to bed. Lin bowed respectfully and left the room.

The deeper the night grew, the more Maomao tossed and turned. She thought of Fengxian, greeting her at the gate. She had expected her mother to be furious at her unevenly tanned skin, or to feel revulsion for the hands that always carried their indigo trace, now marred with new scars. But she had only looked at her, for a long, long time. It seemed she had wanted to say something, but the words had caught in her throat.

Caught in her throat? Maomao kneaded a sore forearm. The seasickness had not yet left her. Fengxian disliked her. She disliked the hour of her birth. She disliked the delay of the man who was her father in buying her mother's freedom. She disliked her for always trailing after Luomen to learn medicine. She disliked the ugly indigo trace upon her hands. She disliked her plain, simple garments, even as her mother always brought her the most beautiful attire only for her to cast them aside.

Lakan was not at home. She had believed Fengxian would leave the servants to welcome her. But her mother had personally waited at the gate, and even sat to dinner with her. It seemed that time and distance could make a person forget the reasons they hated someone.

Chapter Text

Early the next morning, a roar awoke Maomao.

"Where is my daughter?"

"Father, calm yourself. The girl is likely still asleep at this hour."

Of course she was. No one wakes at five in the morning on a day of rest. Maomao cursed under her breath, pulling the blanket over her head, hoping to block out the noise and sleep again. The older man's shouting. The young man and the servants are trying to reason with him. The clatter from the kitchen below. The sound of some rooster straining its neck to crow with all its might. It all succeeded in rousing her fury.

Maomao shot out of bed, kicked open her door, and called out,

"Sir, I desire to eat roasted chicken."

"Maomao! Oh, Maomao, my child!" Lakan tried to rush toward her but was held back by the servants. "All the hardships you faced abroad… Yes, yes, go at once! Go and buy chickens to roast for the young miss. Buy five fat hens."

Oh, so he knows which chickens are good. But Maomao shook her head.

"I wish to eat the rooster that just crowed."

"Then catch it and prepare it at once!"

The young man beside Lakan - Lahan- turned pale. The servants fell silent. Lahan turned toward Maomao, his voice pleading.

"Little sister, that is my brother's only rooster. Could you please choose another? Or let the kitchen staff buy some. I shall buy you ten, a whole flock if you wish."

"Junjie's?" Lakan interrupted. "Just eat it. We will buy him another to replace it."

Maomao glanced haughtily at Lahan, who was wiping sweat from his brow. Lahan was her paternal cousin, adopted by her parents to be their heir. Although she was generally indifferent to household affairs, she had always thought it would have made more sense for Fengxian to have another child as heir. Lahan was a sly pervert. From the time she was thirteen, he had been scheming to marry her off to a rich family. More than once, she had wanted to hire thugs to give him a sound beating.

In the end, the servants went to buy other chickens for her. Junjie was also her cousin, but unlike Lahan, he was kind and hardworking. She did not wish to cause trouble for him.

Aromatic chicken congee, shredded chicken, roasted chicken, and chicken stewed with mugwort were served for the morning meal. Lahan looked at the lavish spread before him, then at the "family" dining table with all four members present. He felt something was amiss. In all the time he had been with Lakan, he did not think the four of them had ever sat down to a meal together.

Lakan was overcome with emotion. He kept asking Maomao about her time in Valenque, about the war, about all she had endured. He nearly burst into tears several times. Maomao answered each question concisely, without elaboration, almost reluctantly. She was contentedly gnawing on a great quarter chicken leg that Lakan had torn off for her. Lahan let out a silent "ah," realizing what was wrong. Fengxian saw Maomao's boorish eating manners and did not scold her. She said nothing. Her spoon stirred endlessly in her bowl of porridge without taking a bite. She would occasionally look up at Maomao, who ate as she spoke. Noticing Lahan's gaze upon her, she too tore off a large chicken leg for him and said, "Go on, eat" before her attention returned to Maomao's stories. Her eyes were slightly moist.

Lahan shook his head. When one's precious daughter has been trapped in a war zone for over three years, even a formidable Grand Commandant or the notoriously strict mistress of Rokushoukan will have their hearts broken.

***

Maomao hid herself away in the La residence for a full four days. She did not once step out of the East Wing. Lakan was occupied with his duties and was not at home. Fengxian also left her to her own devices. Managing the internal affairs of the La household was exhausting enough. Not to mention that even with a new manager, Rokushoukan still had matters that required her personal attention. In the seventeen years since she had married into the La family, she had never once neglected that business.

On the fifth day, Lakan returned to the residence with Lahan in tow. Waiting until the three adults had finished their morning meal, Maomao intercepted Lahan. It was rare for her to initiate a conversation with him.

"I have just returned, and many things are unfamiliar to me. Might you show me around and broaden my horizons?"

Lahan looked at Maomao with deep suspicion. Lakan, however, was boisterous.

"Yes, yes, take your sister out. Did you not say you were taking the morning for rest?"

"Ah, yes."

Lahan regretted having told Lakan his schedule. He shot a desperate look at Fengxian, pleading for aid. But she pulled out a heavy purse of silver coins, pressing it into his hand.

"Here. If it is not enough, tell me and I shall give you more."

"This is plenty, of course, how could it be otherwise?" Lahan forced a placating smile, shooting a sideways glare at Maomao, who stood beside him looking perfectly innocent.

Instead of going to the city center as they had said, the two turned into a small teahouse near the gemstone market. It was one of Lahan's many little-known private properties. The teahouse had two floors, each with two private rooms, and four casual tables in the front hall. All the furniture was made of ironwood. A massive climbing rose trellis covered most of the facade, leaving only the single-slab wooden door visible.

"Are you dealing in opium these days?"

"Now, now, if you are to be impressed by your brother's splendor, at least do not utter such unprincipled things."

A server bowed respectfully at Lahan's arrival. A large cat waddled out to greet them – round eyes, round face, a body as round as a cutting board.

"What is this now? Does this establishment also serve food?"

"Are you going to eat the cat?" Lahan, holding the cat, asked in horror, quickly hiding it behind his back.

"In a war, when one is starving, one will eat anything," Maomao smirked, her tone making it impossible to tell if she was jesting. "But who would want to eat something that looks like a doormat? I mean to say, it resembles one of those dogs they keep at restaurants."

The dogs at restaurants were always fat.

Lahan let out a sigh of relief. The cat looked at Maomao with wounded eyes. She had just called it dirty, ugly, and fat all at once.

They sat in a private room on the second floor. The teahouse was deserted. Maomao ordered a large pot of tea to warm her hands.

"Wasteful."

"Someone else is paying."

She pulled back the curtains to let the morning sun in. This confounded place truly used gold brocade from the Western Domain for its curtains.

In Shunyang, autumn weather was generally beautiful, aside from the occasional cold spell. The wind was a bit strong but cool. The sun rose late, bright and warm. The humidity was not too high either.

"So... what did you wish to speak to me about?" Lahan drew out his words, scrutinizing Maomao.

"No one is going to eat you."

"You? You lack strength. But I detest ambiguity."

Maomao did not answer at once. She kept her hands pressed against the warm teapot.

"Your hands..."

"Do not say anything of pity."

"Very well."

Lahan wanted to say that she had changed a great deal. What had the sixteen-year-old Maomao endured, for the arrogant eyes of that child prodigy to now hold such trembling and fear?

"I want you to help me find someone. It is possible he, like me, was evacuated from Valenque to Qinyou last year or this year."

"A man?" Lahan raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Sensing danger, he leaned back, tapping his fingers, the way he did when bargaining.

"Either you tell me the entire story in detail, or there will be no help from me whatsoever."

Maomao's hands did not leave the teapot. Her memory began to drift somewhere far away. Winter. The shallow breaths by a sickbed. The small house with a chimney. The fabric market and the pans of pigment...

She smiled, her lips slightly pursed. Lahan felt a chill run down his spine.

"Well, there was a time I went into a church to treat a patient..."

"Get to the point."

Maomao cleared her throat.

"Do you know of the time I went missing while I was in Eyndra?"

"I do. Because of that, Father and Great-uncle Luomen had a falling out. Father himself was nearly put under investigation."

"Wait, why was that?"

"Finish your own story first."

"You speak of family matters first."

Lahan sat up straight, his voice serious.

"You know full well how much Father did not wish for you to go abroad. In '77, with the situation in Valenque, Hokuaren, and Shaoh, there are many things he knows that we do not. And you, with your status..."

"But you wanted to go so badly he had no choice. In late '79, the situation was even more tense than it is now. The moment news of your disappearance arrived, he stormed into the Imperial Medical Bureau. He demanded that great-uncle Luomen bring you back. You see, there was nothing our great-uncle could do at the time. Father has been angry with him ever since, avoiding him constantly."

Fengxian already disliked Luomen for teaching Maomao pharmacology, it made her slip beyond her mother's control. Now Grand Commandant Kan was against him too. So both husband and wife were at odds with Luomen.

"That is not all," Lahan continued. "I told you the situation was sensitive. After that incident, another faction started spreading rumors. They said you had… betrayed the country, and demanded a full investigation of the La household. Fortunately, the Emperor is wise. He rejected all the accusations."

"The Emperor?"

"Yes, I found it strange as well. But according to Onsu, Father's aide, it was indeed the Emperor."

"I had not yet returned to Eyndra at that point, had I?"

Lahan shook his head.

"Why would he...?"

Lahan shot her a glare. Maomao wisely fell silent. After a long pause, she spoke softly.

"I did not mean to bring trouble upon everyone. I did not know Valenque was attacking Hokuaren until after I had arrived."

"You cannot be blamed. Father wishes you to live a carefree life while he sits in that position. If anyone is to be blamed, it is he."

The tea had cooled. Lahan called for the server to bring Maomao a fresh pot, and also ordered cakes for her.

"That winter, I went missing because someone pushed me into the river. I drifted downstream and was rescued. I was so grievously injured that I had to remain at that person's house for several months to recover."

Lahan froze. He knew it was serious, but had not imagined it was this dire. Winters in Valenque were bitterly cold.

"And you are looking for this man?"

Maomao nodded slowly.

"How many people were in his household?"

"One."

"So you and this man lived thusly for months? Did you share his bed?" Lahan cried out, his voice rising.

Maomao nodded without hesitation. There were nights the pain wracked her bones so badly she could not sleep. He would stay awake to watch over her. They would lean against each other, sleeping upright before the only fireplace in the house. That, she supposed, counted as sharing a bed.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing? I know nothing of what happens in war, but Qinyou is at peace. You still have to marry a rich man for my sake!"

"Hey. The only reason I am not striking you is not because I am unable," Maomao warned, pointing a finger at Lahan's nose.

"And what could you do to me?"

Maomao decisively picked up the hot teapot.

"No, no, put that down. Let us speak of this properly."

"So, do you intend to help or not?"

"You must give me the details, so I know where to begin my search. You have not even told me his name."

"Jinshi. His name is Jinshi."

Chapter Text

Droswick County, Southern Valenque. Eleventh month, 1679.

Pain, a deep and searing pain. Her bones ached. Her throat ached. Her head ached most of all. What time was it? Was she still alive? The river water was so cold. She wanted to reach the shore.

A flock of birds was nearby. They chirped incessantly, exchanging news. It seemed they had mistakenly landed in someone's yard. There was the swish of a broom, then the chaotic flapping of wings.

Wait, a broom. There was a person here.

Help me.

Maomao screamed in her mind, but no sound came from her throat. She shot up, eyes flying open, trying again to call for help with her swollen vocal cords. But they would not work. In a panic, she reached out, dragging her strengthless body forward, hoping to get just a little closer to the sound of life.

Just a little further, and she could get help.

Thud.

She had fallen from somewhere onto solid ground, not water. Her heart was still pounding, but her vision was clearing. She froze.

She was in the main room of a small cottage, built of dark red brick and timber. Scrolls of paper covered the walls. In the center of the room, a stone hearth radiated a comforting warmth, punctuated by the occasional crack of burning wood. A small window with wooden bars was tangled with climbing vines. The main door of the cottage stood wide open, but her eyes had not adjusted to the light. All she could see was a blinding white.

The place Maomao had just fallen from was a rather large bed. The entire room was bathed in the warm brown tones of old wood, fired brick, and the dim, flickering light of the hearth.

She carefully looked down at herself. Her garments were a bit disheveled from lying in bed so long, but they were her own. Her bones still ached terribly. She could not stand.

What is happening? Is anyone there?

"You are awake?"

The light from the doorway was blocked by a tall figure. A man. He spoke in the Valenque tongue as he walked gently toward where she had fallen.

"Pardon me."

With that, he lifted her entire body and placed her back on the bed.

Maomao was a little stunned. Only now did she see his face clearly. She had never seen anyone so beautiful. He looked slightly feminine, but his features were sharper. Dark eyebrows, a high nose bridge, and eyes that held a certain gentleness and calm. The East Asian features on his face were very distinct. Perhaps he came from the same region as her. It was unclear if he was from Qinyou, Anan, or Hokuaren.

She could not speak. She could only mouth the words "thank you" in the Valenque language.

"Lost your voice? Just stay put. I shall go and cook something for you."

Maomao wanted to pull him back. She had so many questions. Unfortunately, he did not seem to have much patience. He quickly went into the kitchen. A moment later, the sound of chopping echoed out.

Her entire body was still wracked with pain. Her breathing was labored. Though she had emerged from her coma, she was not certain if she would survive. Winter was approaching here, it seemed.

Losing her sense of space and time was not a good thing. Maomao struggled to steady her thoughts. She painstakingly pieced together the shattered fragments of memory in her mind. Let's see... Her university. Her teachers and their faces. It seemed Lilina, who sat next to her, had gotten her mole removed. What was she doing then? Elian always said he hated winter. What had she said in response?

Why do you wish to become a physician?

Maomao, the child has stopped breathing. Cease the compressions.

My dream is to become a knight...

I made this mooncakes especially for you. I found the recipe in an old book.

As expected, when one is sick and weak, many trivial memories, usually forgotten, will take their revenge. They rush out all at once, making an already confused mind even more chaotic.

From outside, the roar of a river could be heard. The cottage was built on a small hill near the water. Looking out, she could only see range after range of high mountains, unlike the valleys north of Eyndra. Within her line of sight, a few pine branches appeared at the window, frost still clinging to their needles.

The man returned. He carefully held a small bowl of congee.

"Try to eat a little. I shall call a doctor to check on you again later."

It was minced meat and vegetable congee. He had finely minced all the ingredients so she would not have to chew. She guessed it was hot and delicious, but she could not taste anything at the moment.

It took her an hour of struggling, but she managed to finish half the bowl. The man was very kind, but also seemed shy around strangers. Unless it was absolutely necessary, like when he had to lift her off the floor that morning, he did not stand too close to her.

In the early afternoon, an old doctor who looked very untrustworthy and a little girl of about nine or ten stopped by the house. The doctor's hands trembled as he felt her forehead and took her pulse. He continued to tremble as he wrote out a prescription and handed it to the man.

She stole a glance at the prescription. As expected, it was nonsense. Just a bunch of expensive, miscellaneous herbs. The kind-hearted man, however, seemed to trust the old doctor completely. He gave the little girl some instructions and then quickly went out, probably to buy the medicine.

No one noticed Maomao trying to stop him with her mind. She still could not speak. She had never felt so helpless.

The little girl now ran over to Maomao's bed. She quickly took out a comb and skillfully began to detangle Maomao's matted hair. As she combed, she chattered away.

Maomao understood the gist of it. The girl was from a large family nearby and had been hired to take care of her. The man, the girl called him Brother Jinshi, had only told her to continuously massage Maomao's limbs. But the girl said she could handle other caregiving tasks as well. It seemed the man named Jinshi paid well.

It was dusk when Jinshi returned with the medicine. He set a small pot by the hearth in front of Maomao's bed to brew the herbs. Then he turned to tell the little girl to watch the pot while he went to cook dinner. The girl offered to cook, but he refused. He again told her to watch Maomao carefully so she would not fall out of bed.

Maomao listened silently from her corner as the two talked back and forth. She noticed that Jinshi spoke to everyone with the same gentle, coaxing tone, as if soothing a child, even when he was disagreeing with them. He used that same tone with her, the old doctor, and the little helper girl.

Maomao knew Jinshi was an artist, though he had not done any drawing today. The room was filled with many scrolls of paintings, and stacks of draft paper. All sorts of paints were neatly arranged in one corner. But pencils were scattered everywhere, as if he could sketch wherever he sat.

She reached for a pencil and a scrap of paper wedged in the bedside cabinet. Suppressing the pain in her wrist, she wrote a crooked line. She held it out to the little girl with a pleading look. But she had not expected that the girl could not read. The girl quickly took the paper and ran into the kitchen, exclaiming, "Brother Jinshi, the sister is asking Anne something!"

Maomao was so embarrassed she wanted to crawl under the bed. Jinshi chuckled and answered the girl.

"Tell her this is Droswick County, in the south."

Droswick? Maomao was dazed. She knew she was far from Eyndra from the accents of the girl and the doctor. But she had not realized how far. Had she really drifted all the way to the south and survived? No, that was not right. Where had she been pulled out? Or rather, where had she been pushed in?

Maomao's condition quickly deteriorated. Despite the medicine, the joint pain returned, causing her to double over in agony. Anne had gone home to her parents after the evening meal. Maomao's throat could finally produce sound, but all she could do was moan in pain.

Jinshi knelt by her bed, helplessly holding her hands. Her fingernails still managed to leave bloody scratches on her arms.

"Try to bear it. I shall prepare some pain medicine for you."

"It is no use." Maomao's mind grew hazy. She felt as if thousands of ants were gnawing at her bones. "Why do you not just stop trying to save me? Let me die. It hurts too much."

"My lady, calm yourself."

"You are a good person. Stay and save others. I cannot be saved..."

Maomao clutched the blanket and rolled over again, writhing in excruciating pain.

Jinshi let go of her slightly. As quickly as he could, he retrieved a different packet of medicine from the one the old doctor had given him. He placed the pot on the hot coals of the hearth and returned to hold her hands again.

It was early winter, and he had stored some clean ice. He dropped a large piece into the freshly brewed medicine to cool it. Then he carefully brought the medicine to Maomao.

***

Near midnight, the pain finally subsided. Maomao lay exhausted in the middle of the bed, her hair disheveled, her face streaked with tears. Jinshi also let out a sigh of relief. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

"What medicine did you give me?"

She asked in the Qinyou language. That evening, Jinshi was wearing a type of traditional Qinyou clothing. She could now confirm he was a fellow countryman.

"A painkiller."

Ah. The illness was still there. Her brain just could not feel it anymore.

"You are an apothecary too, are you not? Your hands..."

"I am."

"While you are lucid, try to prescribe something for yourself."

She pondered for a moment, then struggled to sit up. She grabbed the pencil and wrote quickly. After a moment's thought, she asked, "Do you have much money? I will repay you, but I must first borrow some."

"Just write down the most expensive ones."

She guessed she had acute arthritis, but being submerged in freezing river water for a long time had worsened her condition. She was catlike, frail yet stubborn. She told herself she must persevere.

"Do you need any restorative herbs?"

"The afternoon prescription already covered the restoratives," Maomao said, thinking of the pile of tonics the old doctor had prescribed.

Chapter Text

Before the snow and wind truly set in, the weather generously gifted the people of Droswick a full week of sunshine.

Maomao borrowed Jinshi's folding chair. She set it up by the door, carefully wrapped herself in a blanket, and lay there dozing in the sun. Her condition had improved. Though her nights were still painful, at least it was not the life-or-death agony of the first day.

Jinshi told her that a merchant couple on the river had pulled her from the water. Seeing she was still breathing, they kept her on their boat, intending to find help somewhere. But the banks of the Dimas River were either steep mountains or vast grasslands. It was not until they reached Droswick that they found a town to leave her in. He said the merchant's wife had washed and dried her garments for her. He had not done anything improper.

She was silent for a moment. She remembered the late afternoon twilight behind St. Dimitri's Church. It was St. Dimitri's Church, number 73 Chestnut Street, next to the post office. She still remembered it clearly. Someone had knocked her unconscious. She thought she might have regained consciousness for a moment when she was pushed into the water, but then she had quickly blacked out again.

She often used cold water to stun seafood before cooking. She never thought she would one day experience what those shrimp and crabs felt.

Jinshi was ready to go. He slung a large bag over his shoulder and reminded Maomao as he headed out the door.

"I am going out for a short while. You watch the house. Anne will be here around noon, so do not wander off. I shall buy something good to eat on my way back."

Maomao stretched, lazily squinting her eyes and nodding.

"Let me cook the noon meal. I know how."

"No, I shall cook. And do not let Anne cause a disturbance in the kitchen."

"Understood."

Like a kitten just learning to walk, as soon as her legs were able, she curiously explored every nook and cranny of the cottage. From the bed where she slept to Jinshi's bedroom, to the kitchen with its cat-head-shaped oven. The house even had a shed full of dry firewood. Thousands of logs had been chopped to perfectly uniform lengths. It must have taken an immense amount of effort. The owner was clearly a very patient and hardworking man.

A far cry from the image she held of those who pursued the arts.

Jinshi had even designed a small icebox, placed outside to store fresh food for the winter. He had a separate pantry for dry goods. But while it was not yet bitterly cold, he still diligently went out to buy fresh food and green vegetables.

Maomao would often sit at his work table, curiously watching him apply brushstrokes to pages of paper. She watched with eyes full of wonder. He painted very quickly, working on several similar paintings at once. The finished paintings were laid out all over the floor to dry. Occasionally, a piece would get sucked into the hearth, but he paid it no mind. The fire would catch the paper and the layers of paint, flaring up in a strange color. The painting would quickly turn to ash.

He also never signed his name on the paintings.

"Why do you paint so many pictures that look the same?"

Maomao could not help but ask. Jinshi glanced over.

"You do not look at paintings often, do you?"

Maomao nodded. Except for anatomical illustrations.

"These are not paintings I created myself. They are all famous masterpieces. I just commit them to memory and repaint them."

She was stunned.

"Are you doing something illegal?"

No wonder he seemed so wealthy and generous.

"Valenque has laws for this sort of thing. It is only illegal if I paint a forgery, claim it is real, and sell it at an exorbitant price. I just copy them and sell them to a buyer for a fee that covers my labor and the wear on my tools."

Ha. So he was not breaking the law. His clients were.

Jinshi shrugged, as if to say whoever broke the law, it was their own affair.

"But I can still see the differences between the paintings, you know."

Jinshi was slightly taken aback and looked over. Maomao did not notice, still pointing at the paintings.

"Look here, the sixth row of bricks on this one has a full seven bricks, but that one only has about six and three-quarters. The left corner of the outermost one is also different from all the others. This one, on the right corner, the middle tamarind branch is missing a leaflet. And over there..."

A large hand clamped down on hers. It used enough force to make her not-yet-healed joints throb with pain.

"Ow."

"My apologies," Jinshi said, slowly releasing her hand. "I was afraid you would touch the wet paint."

"Oh, I shall be careful."

"You have a quick eye."

"Yes. Both my mother and my brother are in business. I think I have a better ability to spot details than most people."

Jinshi said nothing, lost in thought. He picked up his brush, then set it down again.

"If you paint them differently like that, people will realize they are forgeries."

"They are not real to begin with. This order is for a stingy old man who is paying me very little. One gets what one pays for."

Maomao paid it no mind. She continued to rummage through the pile of paintings for ones with Jinshi's signature. These seemed to be his original works. Jinshi feigned indifference, quickly gathering the fake paintings that were spread out to dry into a separate pile.

"They are dry now."

Those were the last warm days of the winter of 1679. From the high vantage point of the cottage, plumes of blue smoke curled up from the small town at the foot of the hill. The townspeople were likely starting their evening meals. In another direction, an abandoned church sat silently beside the winding, turquoise Dimas River, its surface half-frozen.

***

Winter had begun to settle over the Citadel of Shunyang. Maomao counted the days and months on her fingers, only to realize that the day she first set foot in Droswick was now a matter of four years past.

She had started working again but had not moved into the dormitory. Her health had weakened considerably after the war years. She was no longer stubborn enough to prove she was the strongest person in the world. The East Wing of the La residence was very comfortable. It was warm and draft-free in the winter. She did not have to be frugal with the heating coal. Fengxian had even hired a female healer for her, someone who specialized in herbal massage and was very dedicated to her work. Maomao looked up at the overcast sky that threatened a snowstorm, thinking to herself that she would survive another winter.

Not many people knew she was Grand Commandant Kan's daughter, and she was uncomfortable with the status. To make it easier for her to get to work, Lahan, her adoptive brother, had arranged a private carriage for her under the name of one of his merchant guilds. Of course, he was not lending it to her for free, but she did not care. If she did not pay for the carriage, would he dare to take it back?

Four months had passed since she had asked for Lahan's help, but there were still no results, even though they had tried to access many different sources of information. People from Qinyou went to Valenque through official channels and by crossing the border illegally. They returned from Valenque through official evacuations and by sneaking back with merchant caravans.

Lahan had no shortage of information, from internal secrets to black market intel, but he could not find a single valuable clue.

"What if he has not yet returned?" Lahan had asked her one afternoon when they were caught in the rain at the city port.

"Then there should be a record of his departure, should there not?"

"Let us review the profile one more time. Jinshi, about 26 or 27 years of age, from Isei. Went to Valenque about ten years ago as a tourist, then was admitted to the Eyndra Academy of Fine Arts and was allowed to stay. Had a dispute with his supervising professor at the academy eight years ago, dropped out, and became a freelance artist in Droswick. Last contact was in October of 1680."

Maomao nodded slightly. The information was detailed and very plausible. Even the story of a foreign student arguing with his professor and losing his scholarship was still mentioned by a few other Qinyou alumni. But strangely, none of those alumni knew anything more. At this point, even a fool would have understood a few things, let alone Maomao and Lahan.

Perhaps he had not been telling her the truth.

She suddenly recalled the differing details in the forged paintings, the trivial yet orderly things in the small cottage, his unconscious habits, and his flawless speech.

Maomao looked out the carriage window at the city streets. In early winter, grilled foods and hot soups had quickly replaced the mooncakes, sweet pastries, and candies of autumn at the roadside stalls.

She told the driver to stop the carriage and got out to buy a portion of hot crab soup. She had not brought her own bowl, so she intended to pay for the ceramic one as well. The vendors, a cheerful middle-aged couple, told her she could just return the bowl in the afternoon.

She thanked them. As she was about to return to the carriage, she saw a familiar face buying her morning meal nearby.

Maomao walked over slowly.

"Hello. Off to work so early?"

"Hi. You as well."

The girl in front of her nodded slightly. Her name was Yao, another physician from the Imperial Medical Bureau. If Maomao was Luomen's direct disciple, the little princess who grew up being cared for by the physicians of the Bureau, then Physician Yao had only passed the entrance exam at fifteen after failing four times. No one thought she would last more than six months in this outer court, but one year passed, then two, then three. Now, at only nineteen, she was one of Physician Liu's most outstanding students, with a talent for first aid, emergency care, and rehabilitation.

Yao was also the physician Fengxian often requested to visit the La residence for check-ups and prescriptions. Luomen used to do it, but after his falling out with Grand Commandant Kan, he no longer came. Yao had joined the Bureau after Maomao had gone abroad, so they had only met a few times since Maomao's return.

"What have you purchased?" Maomao asked, trying to make conversation.

"Salty zongzi." Yao opened a paper packet to show Maomao. There were three great, savory rice dumplings inside. "Would you care for one to break your fast?"

"I have already bought crab soup." Maomao jiggled the ceramic bowl in her hand.

Looking at Maomao's portion and then at her own three massive dumplings, Yao seemed a bit embarrassed. She explained, "They looked smaller in the basket."

"Where is your carriage?"

"I am walking. It is good for one's health to get an early start."

"Ah..."

Neither of them was very talkative. The conversation quickly stalled.

"Well then, I shall be on my way. You..."

Before Maomao could finish her sentence, a commotion from behind the row of houses caught their attention. A group of bailiffs, who had appeared from nowhere, were blocking people from the front street from passing through the small alley to the back.

"What is going on?"

"A whole skeleton with the skin not fully decomposed, it is horrifying."

"I heard it was in that abandoned house back there."

"No, it was pulled from the canal. The magistrate's office is just borrowing the abandoned house."

Maomao's carriage had been commandeered by soldiers to block the alleyway. The driver, a true subordinate of Lahan, had a placid expression, not a hint of confusion on his face.

Yao and Maomao temporarily placed their food in the carriage, then tried to make their way into the alley that led to the back street.

"What are you doing?"

"Could you let us through to take a look?" Yao produced an imperial physician's token. "We are physicians of the Imperial Medical Bureau."

The soldier looked at the token, hesitating. A few others gathered around. Many did not look kindly upon women in official positions, especially physicians. But the token was real. An official one rank higher was enough to crush them, let alone those who worked in the outer court, while they were merely bailiffs of the magistrate's office.

"Physician Lu*, this is a case under the jurisdiction of our county's magistrate. I know you wish to help, but we dare not impose on officials from the imperial court so lightly."

(* Yao)

Yao and Maomao exchanged a glance.

"Just stand aside," Yao said. Before becoming an imperial physician, she was the daughter of the Vice Minister, unaccustomed to being hindered by soldiers.

"My lady..."

"Ah, Lady Lu, what brings you here? And Physician Maomao as well."

The speaker was a tall man, dressed in a military uniform different from that of the soldiers blocking the way. Maomao knew this man. She did not remember his name, but she remembered he was a Vice Captain under Lakan's command. He probably recognized her too, but uncertain if her identity was public knowledge, he chose to greet Yao first.

"You know me?" Yao noted that he had not looked at her token.

"I am Lihaku, Captain of the County Guard. I once served under Vice Minister Lu."

Transferred down to the county level, then? Maomao thought. She spoke up before Yao could say anything more.

"We heard there was a homicide. Might we take a look?"

Lihaku led Yao and Maomao to an abandoned house in the back. There was no initial crime scene. It rained a great deal in Shunyang this season, and the water in the city's Ushu River had risen. This area had a small canal leading from the main river, which had become blocked and flooded locally the previous night by a mass of debris floating from upstream. In the morning, when the residents worked together to clear the blockage, they discovered a human body tangled in the mess.

Yao and Maomao only looked on, not directly touching the corpse. The body was little more than a skeleton. At a glance, the person was tall. Most of the outer flesh had been torn away by impact as it was swept along by the water. The few stubborn patches of flesh that remained were swollen. A foul stench filled the air.

Maomao stared intently at those patches of flesh while Yao raised her fingers, estimating the size from a distance. The sky was growing brighter, though there was no sun. The curious onlookers began to disperse to their own business.

It was a case for the magistrate's office, not one they could conveniently interfere in. Seeing nothing special from a distance without being able to touch the body, the two women took their leave before the coroners arrived.

Maomao paused before the canal in front. The canal was not large, but the water flowed swiftly, its banks low. The street in front mainly sold food and drinks, while behind it were a few shops selling fresh fish and a row of warehouses belonging to the stall owners in the area. Canals in market districts were usually quite polluted, but this one was much cleaner. Perhaps because of the different speed of the current.

In return, it would be quite dangerous during the rainy season.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Let's go."

Chapter Text

"Physician Maomao, my father said there's a baby in mommy's belly."

"I saw mommy's belly explode. Is that the baby coming out?"

"Have you seen my father? He told me to call him if mommy's stomach hurt. Her stomach is bleeding so much. I have to tell my father."

"I don't know..."

The child's face was grimy, but held no tears. His brilliant blue eyes looked at her, full of hope. Hearing her answer, the boy's eyes dropped in disappointment, his long lashes trembling.

She wanted to stroke the child's hair to comfort him, but her hand was only halfway there when a shout erupted.

"A third round of fire? The barbarians. Everyone, take cover!"

No, there was no shelter here. She only had time to hug the child tight, using her own body to shield him. Shrapnel, mixed with flesh and blood, splattered against her face and body. Blood? Who else had died? Was the child still alive?

Then she saw the boy again. No, not the boy. The small face had aged rapidly, his pupils turning red. The five-year-old's body collapsed like a puddle of gore. His eyes swam aimlessly in that 'body', his mouth still screaming without cease.

"Die, all of you, just die!"

"Ah!"

"My lady, my lady, what is wrong?"

Maomao shot up, gasping, staring in horror at the scene before her. The winter night was black as ink. The bedroom was filled with all manner of fine fabrics and high-quality furniture. Many candles were lit just to maintain light in the room, though it was the middle of the night. The fire in the hearth burned with a steady, crimson glow, radiating a pleasant warmth. A cold draft slipped in through the ventilation slit.

This was the East Wing of the La residence. It was only a dream.

Lin and the other maids were frantic. Some stood, some knelt around her bed. Maomao tried to regain her composure, breathing deeply to steady her wildly beating heart.

"It was just a nightmare. You may all leave."

Lin looked as if she wanted to speak, but held her tongue. In winter, with no sun and longer nights, the young miss had nightmares many times. She looked at her gaunt mistress with worry.

"My lady, this cannot go on. Perhaps you should go to the madam's room to sleep, so you will be less frightened?" one of the maids, younger than Lin, dared to say.

The others turned pale. Did the girl not know that the madam and the young miss were not close?

"It is not that serious. There is no need." Maomao's voice still trembled slightly. "All of you, brew me some ginger tea. Lin, just fetch a few silver hairpins and place them on the headboard."

Maomao had little faith in such old wives' tales, but if she did not find a task for the servants, she feared they would truly drag her to Fengxian's side.

The maids acknowledged the order and dispersed. Maomao buried her head in her hands. She did not remember the child's name. Just like the many nameless children of Valenque who had died before her, she knew none of their names. She only remembered Kaoru, clinging to her sleeve and crying without end. She remembered Professor Odela's scream upon seeing the children she had just saved buried once more.

Maomao sat like that until morning, then went to work with dark circles under her eyes.

The weather was shifting from Frost’s Descent to Beginning of Winter solar term. The cold deepened, and the morning frost was gone.

(Author’ note: “Frost’s Descent” (霜降, Shuāngjiàng).

霜 = frost, 降 = to descend. Approx. Oct 23–24 to Nov 7–8. Frost becomes frequent as nights turn colder.

“Beginning of Winter” (立冬, Lìdōng).

立 = to begin or stand, 冬 = winter. Approx. Nov 7–8 to Nov 22–23. Cold air masses stabilize and the chill deepens, often with drier mornings and less visible dew or frost.)

Maomao was carefully checking the ledgers in the Pharmacy, cross-referencing figures, and arranging related prescriptions into small groups. In truth, with three years of experience in war relief, she was more confident in first aid and emergency care than in any other field of medicine. This was true even when compared to the Eastern medicine she had learned as a child or the Western specialization she studied at the Valenque Medical Institute. But her health was not robust, and the Pharmacy was short-staffed. Physician Liu still preferred she work in the Pharmacy.

Maomao did not refuse. Anywhere was fine, as long as she could work. Besides, in the nearly four months since her return, she realized the young physicians, whether they had studied abroad or not, were all brilliant. They had procedures, their own ways of working that had been adjusted over many years to fit together seamlessly. There was no need to disrupt everything just because someone had returned from overseas.

She still had much to learn from them.

Maomao would still assist in emergencies or high-demand surgeries, but not often. Most of her time was spent in the Pharmacy. With Valenque at war, a major source of Western medicine and herbs had been cut off.

Maomao calculated that it might be spring of next year before she could complete the new prescriptions using alternative herbs. She had also been tasked with finding information on ingredients from other Western countries through the merchant guilds, calculating quantities, and finding ways to bring them to Qinyou. Not many people knew she was Lahan's sister, but because she looked wealthy and traveled in a carriage from a famous merchant guild, most people assumed she was from a merchant family.

When Lahan received Maomao's request, he was extremely enthusiastic. It seemed he had spotted a major bargain.

"Do not be too greedy. I am only relaying the message. The one transacting directly with you is still the Ministry of Revenue. I will have you thrown in prison if I find any errors."

"My precious little sister, what are you saying?" Lahan put on a pitiful expression. "How could I bear to cheat when it concerns the lives of others? I am only charging the correct price."

Charging the correct price. Maomao looked at the figures in the ledger and ground her teeth. Lahan was very clear-headed about business. He could find any herb, in large quantities, with a spoilage rate below twenty percent. And he sold them at an extremely high price. He did not swindle, but he did not sell in small amounts. The total value of one herbal order was a colossal sum.

Maomao tapped her brush on the inkstone, silently thinking how to completely cut ties with this man.

"Sister Maomao, time to eat!"

Kaoru dashed into the Pharmacy, yelling at the top of his lungs. In winter, the number of deaths from freezing and gas poisoning rose sharply, especially in the northern regions. As soon as Kaoru returned, he was assigned to follow the physician delegations from the capital to assist with cold relief. After working as an assistant for two months, he had fallen deathly ill, and the delegation leader, Physician Kagai, had to send him back in a hurry.

The acupuncture room had kept a spot open for him, waiting for his return. Today was his first day back.

"If you want to eat, then go. Why are you calling me?"

"Come to the dining hall with me. I feel awkward."

"I don't usually eat in the dining hall."

"Just come with me today. You're my senior. Are you going to leave me all alone?"

Maomao carefully put her documents back on the shelf and rose slowly. The other physicians and apothecary assistants had all scattered.

On this winter day, no snow fell. The sky was high and bright, though not as clear blue as in summer. The rows of roof tiles, which had been covered in snow from last night's storm, had been cleared by the maids and servants. The paths looked clean but were always covered in a thin, slightly treacherous layer of ice.

Maomao walked gingerly, afraid of wetting her shoes or falling sprawling on the path. She had no precise feelings about winter. Winter could be very sad. It was the season when her health was at its weakest. The cold wind and low humidity dried her skin, made her sinuses and eyes ache, and made her joints feel as if they were being pulled from her body. But winter was also the season of wonders. She was born in winter. She had started working as a young apothecary's assistant for the Imperial Medical Bureau on a winter day, many years ago. She began her first term at the Medical Institute when Eyndra was plunged into the coldest days of the year. And in a certain winter, she had been saved, reborn once more.

She had once heard someone say that winter was a season of waiting and nurturing, so that life, in its fullness, could return in a warmer spring. She had died too many times to see the seasons as anything more than a period of the year, but she did not want her heart to remain silent in its calloused shell. She was still young. She might not believe in spring, but she believed in the many generations of people who had waited for winter to pass, just to capture that brilliant moment and send it to people like her.

She had once seen a painting of spring placed carefully beside a portrait of herself, in the chaotic pile of drawings in the corner of the cottage. It was the first time she realized that the distance from her to that radiant season was perhaps not so far after all.

The Outer Court dining hall was divided by rank. Maomao and Kaoru went to the western hall, where mostly physicians and officials from the Ministry of Internal Affairs gathered. The eunuchs from a few surrounding departments also received their meals here, but they usually took the food back rather than sitting down to eat.

Maomao bought a bowl of hot wontons with extra chives, looking around awkwardly for a seat. The dining hall was too crowded. She usually ate in her office. This was her first time here.

"Sister, over here!"

Kaoru raised his hand high, waving. He was sitting with the other young physicians. Seeing Maomao arrive, the men rearranged their seats, leaving a spot for her next to Kaoru, near Physician Yao and the other female officials.

"Are wontons enough for lunch? Won't you be hungry?" Kaoru asked, his mouth still chattering away as it had been all morning.

"Just eating something hot to warm my stomach." Maomao replied vaguely, nodding slightly at Physician Yao, who sat beside her.

The group of physicians chatted animatedly. Maomao listened in silence. She was Luomen's student and one of the very few female physicians held in high regard by the court. Her colleagues were all very curious about her. But she did not socialize much, so they had to swallow their questions.

"Oh, that's right, Physician Yao, I heard you were also at the scene of that murder in the Western market?"

The speaker was Physician Li, a man in his thirties, slightly balding.

"Yes, I just happened to be passing by. Physician Maomao was there too."

Hearing her name, Maomao looked up.

"So you both got to observe the corpse? I heard it was beautiful." Tianyu, another physician and a student of Liu's like Yao, spoke up.

"Beautiful? What nonsense." Yao shot him a glare. "It was just a skeleton with some waterlogged skin. I couldn't bear it."

"That's what makes it beautiful." Tianyu made a face of regret. A few people chuckled.

"Thinking back, that person was really tall. Wouldn't you agree, Maomao?"

Maomao nodded. She was about 162cm tall, and Yao was even taller, around 172cm. Both of them were taller than the average Qinyou woman of the time, but it was clear the body that day was taller than them both.

"A female corpse?"

Yao nodded at Meikou, who had asked the question. Meikou had been in the same group of students in Valenque as Kaoru and Maomao. Considering for a moment, Yao continued.

"If I am not mistaken, all the organs had been removed from that corpse."

She looked over at Maomao again. Maomao, her mouth full of a stuffed wonton, nodded again. She chewed and swallowed carefully, reached for a napkin to wipe the soup that had spattered on the table, and then calmly added to Yao's statement:

"The abdominal cavity was opened while the person was still alive. Whether the organs were removed while alive or after death, I could not see clearly."

The entire table fell silent. En'en, the female official accompanying Yao, covered her mouth slightly and asked Maomao.

"The case seems serious. Did they not ask you to stay and assist the investigation?"

Maomao mused for a moment. Someone else spoke up.

"Usually, the magistrate's office doesn't rely heavily on the corpse for their investigation. As a first step, they will also search for witnesses and evidence around the area where the crime occurred."

"Hanzhe, you’ve assisted in a lot of investigations, haven’t you?"

The physician who had just answered En'en, Hanzhe, seemed a bit embarrassed, scratching his head.

"The coroner's team at the county yamen is excellent. They haven't asked for any help yet. The case might even be solved by now." He turned to the person next to him. "This fellow here also gets asked to help sometimes, just like me."

The person he referred to was Ryou, a small, young physician who wore a pair of thick glasses, just like Lahan. He was both an artist and a researcher of bone structure and anatomy. He was occasionally asked to simulate a person's face based on descriptions.

Maomao quickly scanned the faces here. Yao, Tianyu, and Li were supported by Physician Liu. Tianyu and Yao worked mostly in the operating room while Li worked in the clinic.

Yao was one of the very few female physicians in the outer court. If not for the war, she would have been in the next group sent to Valenque. Opportunities to study abroad were already rare, and even rarer for women. She was undoubtedly a genius, but her demeanor and her way of offering opinions were more timid than necessary. Tianyu was not the direct student of anyone because, according to Liu, his talent for anatomy surpassed any doctor he had ever met in his life. Li was middle-aged, taciturn, and careful. Maomao did not know much about him.

Meikou and Kaoru were students of Ren, the one who had died in the Valenque war. Kaoru was louder than necessary while Meikou was curt and difficult. He was about thirty. Back when they were studying in Valenque, Meikou was one of the people who gave Maomao the most trouble. He resented that Luomen was rated more highly than his own teacher, Ren, and he took that resentment out on Maomao.

Both Kaoru and Meikou were brilliant. Kaoru excelled in matters of bones and joints, while Meikou was a versatile physician, one who had passed the seven most stringent elimination tests of the formal examination for the Imperial Medical Bureau.

Hanzhe had a background as a coroner. After solving a major case, he had been specially appointed by the Emperor as an advisor to the Court of Judicature and Revision. When there were no important cases, he worked restoring documents at the medical bureau. People respected him quite a bit, always calling him "Physician" even though he did not treat any patients. Ryou was the grand-nephew of a prince and had been taught medicine by Physician Kagai in the palace since he was young.

In recent years, there had been many problems on Qinyou's borders. Kagai often had to go and provide support, but Ryou was still young and in frail health, so he mostly stayed in the imperial palace. He also assisted the Court of Judicature and Revision, much like Hanzhe.

Maomao silently sounded out each name. There were many other physicians not present here today. There was a great deal of work at the medical bureau, the pharmacy alone had seventeen rooms in the outer court. Those who had returned in the same group as Maomao were all being utilized in important positions.

It was quite a coincidence to be sitting with so many talented people today, regardless of whose student they were or whether they had studied abroad. It was natural that they had a certain level of expertise in many fields, including difficult specialties like anatomy. Maomao glanced briefly at Kaoru.

Something was wrong. Did Yao realize it?

A few small clues ran circles in Maomao's mind, connecting themselves of their own accord. Maomao startled slightly.

A very tall woman. It seemed she had seen someone like that before. Yao had said nothing about that detail. Did she not notice, or did she intentionally stay silent? Maomao unconsciously pulled her hands back, putting a small distance between herself and Yao.

Chapter Text

Lahan looked blankly at the hot soup before him. That morning the kitchen had simmered ribs with lotus root and red dates, ginger and white pepper to warm the blood in winter. Yet the broth struck him as greasy, or perhaps it was just his foul mood. Nausea climbed his throat.

"Is something wrong?" Lakan glanced over him, his hand still stirring the soup with his spoon to cool it. Though he could not tell faces apart, his gaze was unnervingly sharp at reading a situation.

Lahan was slightly startled and looked up.

"Business has been a bit difficult lately, Father."

Lakan said mildly.

"Be moderate. There has been far too much gossip going around lately."

Lahan did not reply. Gossip? He knew someone was targeting him. His orders had been running into constant problems. Nothing severe, but troublesome enough. Too many strange coincidences, as if someone was pulling the strings. 

Not harmful, but a warning.

Lahan's head ached. He was the heir to the La clan, Lakan's adopted son, and a formidable merchant in his own right. Few people dared to make trouble for him, let alone openly warn him like this. More troubling, no matter how he traced it back, the only answer he received was "just a coincidence."

Thinking back on his recent activities, he had a vague idea of when he might have offended this prominent figure.

"Has Maomao left for work?"

Lakan asked offhandedly. A servant standing by the table replied respectfully.

"The young miss is still in the residence, sir."

Speak of her, and she appeared. Maomao passed through the dining hall, heading to the kitchen to fetch ginger tea to take to work. She bowed to Lakan, then swept past Lahan. Lahan lifted his soup bowl, downed it in one go, and hurried after Maomao to the kitchen. Lakan was slightly taken aback, asking a servant in confusion.

"What is wrong with those two?"

***

In the kitchen, Lahan and Maomao were glaring at each other.

"You..."

"Want some tea?"

"You're playing me, aren't you?"

Maomao lifted the hot teapot to pour it into a flask, not even bothering to raise her eyes.

"Do your subordinates know their boss speaks so loosely?"

"Someone has been targeting me lately."

"Are you asking me for money to hire bodyguards?"

"Your entire fortune wouldn't be enough to pay for even one of my ships."

"There you have it." Maomao shrugged. "Who knows what illegal business you're running? What could I possibly do?"

"But my business has always been just this. If we're speaking of strange new moves, they are all things I've done to help you. Procuring medicinal herbs and searching for that person."

Lahan was certain these two matters had infringed on someone's interests. If Maomao knew this beforehand and still asked, it was even more certain this girl wanted to teach him a lesson.

"Help me?" Maomao pouted. "Aren't you embarrassed to say that? Money from the medicine sales, whose pocket did it go into?"

"Alright, fine. Perhaps you didn't do it intentionally. Let me ask you, do many people know that you are the one drawing up the list and placing the herb order? Has anyone contacted you privately or tried to bribe you to get this order?"

Maomao looked at Lahan, confused. Couldn't he have looked into this himself?

"If you intended to hide it, how would I know?"

"Everyone. No." Maomao answered his previous questions.

"Right, I see the problem now."

Maomao was not lying. Lahan soothed his threatened authority with a contemptuous smile. They wanted to fight him? Let's see if that person had the strength to fight him to the end.

"You still have your promise about the year-end banquet. Do not forget it."

Maomao nodded, picking up her flask of tea and leaving. Lahan was helping her find the person for free, but in return, whether he found him or not, she still had to fulfill one promise to him. That was to attend a year-end feast for the capital's nobility, usually held at the end of the twelfth lunar month. This would be Maomao's first debut as the young lady of the La residence, Lakan's only daughter. Lahan seemed very determined to marry her off. She sighed. There was still about a month and a half to prepare.

***

Maomao disliked the Lesser Cold solar term in the Shunyang Citadel. Although it was no longer snowing, the weather was still very cold. The cold damp air from the drizzle, combined with the northern wind, made all activity difficult. The floors were in a constant state of being slippery. The wind was strong, but not dry enough to allow the clothes to properly air. The row of hawthorn trees outside her office door had bravely survived the snow season, but now that the windy season had arrived, they looked pitifully tattered.

The low-ranking eunuchs in the Outer Court were also a form of servant. After reporting to Maomao, the seniors led a group of them to begin hauling this shipment of medicinal herbs into the warehouse.

Work in the Pharmacy was always busy when a new shipment of herbs arrived. Maomao was nearly buried under a pile of papers and prescriptions. In contrast, the acupuncture room seemed very idle, as Kaoru frequently came over to the Pharmacy to find her for a chat. She let him be because, from time to time, his information proved useful.

"Do you remember that murder case you and Yao discovered?"

"We didn't discover it, we were just passing by. What about it?"

Kaoru looked around mysteriously, then lowered his voice.

"It's a secret. The case has been transferred to the Court of Judicature and Revision."

"The Court of Judicature and Revision?"

Maomao stopped her brush. She had intended to find Lihaku to ask about the case but had been too busy and forgotten. She hadn't expected it to be unsolved and transferred to the Court of Judicature and Revision.

“I heard it from Ryou. Ryou was asked to reconstruct the face from the skull.”

She recalled the small, bespectacled physician.

“Haven’t they buried the remains?”

“I’m not sure. Ryou began the sketch some time ago. It seems that once he finished the facial reconstruction, they removed the remains.”

"Did no one claim the body?"

"Apparently not... No, that's not right!"

Maomao and Kaoru exchanged a glance, wisely saying no more. The Court of Judicature and Revision was not so idle as to take on an unidentified body for investigation.

***

After Kaoru left, Maomao tidied up some of her papers, checked the work of the apothecaries under her, and then quickly stood up. It was still drizzling outside. She stepped out of the Pharmacy, heading straight for the medicinal garden near the Inner Palace.

The herbs were not thriving this season, despite the Imperial Medical Bureau having maintained a large glasshouse. Only a few specific types remained scattered in the garden, the rest having been harvested before the first frost. The palace had enough kilns for drying, but there was no sun for periodic airing. This was what the apothecaries worried about most on winter days.

The rain had become heavier, but it was still just a drizzle. Maomao silently watched the tiny raindrops merge into a larger drop, clinging to the glass. When those drops became large enough, they would slide crookedly down the clear surface, leaving a faint, misty trail. She opened her mouth to fog the glass, but it was already too wet. No mist formed. After standing lost in thought for a moment, she gripped her umbrella handle tightly, turned and left, perhaps feeling foolish.

Behind the glasshouse was a small courtyard next to an apothecary hall. This was Luomen's study.

"A concubine in the Inner Palace has a high fever. Master Luomen just left this instant," a young apothecary's assistant greeted Maomao, speaking as he brewed tea.

Maomao was Luomen's only true student. Most of the young people called him "master" simply to show respect. His increasingly busy work made it impossible for him to take on any more students, but his experience and documents were invaluable. Even without being taught by him directly, the young assistants still learned a great deal.

Maomao looked up at the white curtain of drizzle outside the veranda, deciding to wait for him to return. She wandered around the study, looking here and there. When she was young, Luomen's work had not been so busy. He would take her to meet his friends and colleagues. He had personally taught her each type of herb and how to prepare it.

This apothecary hall was her entire childhood. She, too, had once lived her early days like a happy, tireless little monkey. When the sun was out, she would bustle about the herb garden or run to the Imperial Pharmacy to practice preparing prescriptions. When it rained, she would hide somewhere in the study, holding an ancient book and sounding out each character. She reserved her evenings for making a mess in the storehouse, with mortars and pots, grinding one moment and brewing the next. She looked like a sorcerer's apprentice, and the herbs were the ancient magical tools that the little sorceress would have to spend many years taming. The indigo trace on her fingers had also deepened from those diligent days with the plants, eating deep into her skin.

She sometimes entertained a strange thought: if her fingertip were cut off, would the flesh inside be white or indigo? Perhaps even her blood would be indigo?

Later, when scars crisscrossed the thin skin of her hands, these silly questions were answered on their own. The flesh was still white, and the blood still red. Maomao was slightly disappointed.

When she was a little older, she moved to one of Luomen's private residences and began a working life, leaving in the morning and returning at night. The Lakan residence was closer, but she did not like living with Fengxian. Luomen, however, remained in the palace.

Maomao picked up a few medicinal packets near the desk to scrutinize them. Luomen's assistant turned pale, unsure what to say to stop her.

"Is Physician Luomen here?"

A voice called from outside. Someone holding a large umbrella asked with a tremor in his voice. The visitor was a tall eunuch, apparently from a noble's residence. He held out a token for the assistant to see.

"There is a child grievously injured at our residence. We wish to invite Physician Luomen to come with me."

Maomao squinted, sneaking a look at the token. It was made of jadeite, carved with a crescent moon. Moon... The Moon Residence.

The current Emperor had a much younger brother who was very reclusive and almost never appeared in public. There were rumors that this man suffered from a chronic illness. There were also rumors that he had treasonous thoughts, and the Emperor, out of respect for the Empress Dowager, had merely placed him under house arrest.

And his emblem is a crescent moon.

"May I go in his stead?"

Just as the assistant was refusing the Moon Residence, Maomao spoke up.

"I am Maomao, Physician Luomen's student. I am very good at treating wounds," she smiled. "Almost as good as my master."

The eunuch was baffled, but he quickly recalled that Physician Luomen had only one student, an exceptionally brilliant one.

"Then we are in your hands, Physician..."

He then briefly described the child's condition. Maomao quickly found the necessary medicine and tools and, along with the assistant, followed the eunuch.

The Moon Residence was located in the outer palace, near the military district. In this era, the residences of all princes were moved out of the imperial city after their investiture, with the exception of the Moon Residence. It seemed the Emperor did not hate him as the rumors claimed. Or perhaps he needed to be controlled, who knew. Maomao thought to herself.

At first glance, the Imperial Younger Brother's Residence seemed modest, but a closer look revealed its exquisitely subtle luxury. The furnishings used in the main hall and the annex all shone with various shades of purple. Even the ceramic tiles on the screen wall were carved with purple motifs. There were few items of gold. Instead, purple jadeite was displayed in abundance. There were large pieces of jade Maomao had never seen, as well as smaller pieces carved with extreme intricacy. Besides jadeite, amethyst was also used as inlay in the pottery. She was fairly certain that any single item in here was worth enough to buy Luomen's entire private residence.

Jadeite, the color purple, and Qinyou's palace architecture. It seemed she had seen these things appear together somewhere before, but she could not remember where.

There were two injured children, both boys. The older one had a long gash on his back. The younger one's condition was quite poor. He was injured right on the brow bone, bleeding profusely. His wrist and fingers were broken. It seemed his blood was slow to clot.

When Maomao arrived, the older child had already cried himself hoarse but showed no signs of stopping. An older lady-in-waiting held him, patting his back gently. Another young woman stood with her hands on her hips, shouting continuously.

Maomao understood the general situation from the scolding. The two children had gotten into a dispute while playing and had scuffled near the staircase. The older one, not paying attention, had accidentally pushed his younger brother, sending him tumbling down the stairs. He himself lost his balance, fell backward, and hit his back on the corner of a nearby table, opening a long gash.

The woman was still shouting. The younger child was already fading. He only lifted his eyelids slightly when Maomao paid her respects to everyone in the room, then quickly passed out.

Seeing someone had arrived, the woman stopped talking and neatly stepped aside to make way for Maomao. Only then did Maomao get a clear look at her. She was a young woman, only about twenty-five or twenty-six, with a ramrod-straight posture and a powerful, oppressive aura. She was very beautiful, but her hawk-like eyes, which regarded others as prey, stood out even more.

The lady of the house, then.

Throughout the first-aid process, everyone assisted Maomao as much as possible. She quickly stopped the bleeding, bandaged the wounds, and set the fractures and wrapped them in plaster. They were all operations she was very familiar with.

​"Physician Maomao's technique is truly precise. How can you identify the location of the fractures so quickly?"

​Luomen's assistant who had come with her praised her excitedly. He thought he would be helping her with the casts, but it turned out she could do it all herself. He felt rather redundant.

​"You get used to it after doing it a lot. Can you soothe the children?"

​"I'm afraid I can't. Let their nannies handle it.”

​Treating the wounds was very painful. The two boys had already cried all their tears out. Maomao silently praised the discipline of the residence. Only two people stayed behind to assist them. The rest had all dispersed to avoid getting in the way. Even though the children were crying hoarsely, no one rushed in unbidden, and certainly no one threatened physicians out of pity for the children.  

​She had treated patients in a few other noble households. One person to examine, ten to watch, twenty to give opinions. Very troublesome. If the patient was in pain, they would curse and threaten to kill the physician.  

​Of course, Maomao had returned from worse. You could search every fiber of her being and not find a single one that was afraid. The main thing was that she feared they would affect the patient while she was there.  

She still did not know the exact titles of the people here, but perhaps these two boys were young princes, sons of His Highness the Moon Prince. She had heard whispers that the Moon Prince was about four or five years older than her, not yet thirty. Men in Qinyou often married or took concubines early, so having children this age was normal.

The hawk-eyed woman from before returned to check on the two children. Seeing they were stable, she ordered their nannies to quickly take them back to their room. Only then did her brow relax slightly.

"Please do not hurry back. Stay and have lunch with us. Suiren has prepared many delicious dishes. We also wish to thank you for coming all this way to help the children."

"It is just our job," the young assistant replied quickly.

"Ah, I do not know if you are busy this afternoon. His Highness the Moon Prince has not been well lately. I was hoping to ask you to wait for his return and take a look at him..."

The woman's question was directed at them both, but her eyes were fixed on Maomao. The young assistant scratched his head, stammering.

"I am not particularly busy, but I am uneasy about being away for so long."

"And you, miss?"

"I am free." Maomao nodded. No matter how sharp the woman's gaze was, it could not frighten her. It just was true that she did not have a shift at the Pharmacy this afternoon.

In truth, if a Prince's residence wanted to invite a physician from the Imperial Medical Bureau, a single summons was all that was needed. Maomao felt that asking for their opinion like this was superfluous.

In the end, the young assistant did not stay for lunch. He had arranged for someone else to watch the study before leaving but was still anxious. Taking his leave of Maomao and the Moon Residence, he returned first by carriage.

Maomao went with the woman to a reception room in the annex. Was the lady of the house not permitted to use the main reception hall? Thinking back, except for passing through the main hall upon entry, all other activities had taken place in the annex. She felt this residence was a bit harsh, even more so than her mother.

"I am Maamei, eldest daughter of the Ma Clan."

"I am Maomao."

"I know. Thank you again for today."

"It is our duty."

Failure to complete it could be life-threatening. Maamei looked at Maomao, somewhat pensively.

"Although I hold no official title, I am one of the advisors to the Moon Residence. I am honored to meet other women like you who hold a certain position in the court."

An advisor? That was right. She was haughty, but clearly talented. Then what about those children?

As if reading her thoughts, Maamei chuckled.

"The older one is my and my husband's eldest son. The younger is the son of a younger sibling. His mother passed away, so I am caring for him. The Moon Prince grew up with my husband and me. We see him as a noble younger brother."

Looking at her again, it was clear the woman was wearing a high-ranking female official's uniform, just in a different color, and without jewelry. In her haste, Maomao had been fooled by the woman's beauty and aura.

"I had thought the two boys were the young masters here."

"Haha, His Highness has not even taken a concubine. How could he have children that old?"

"I did not ask anything."

She felt that gossiping about a noble's line of succession behind his back like this was an easy way to lose one's head, but Maamei did not seem to care.

***

After the meal, Maomao was led to a reception room to rest. Since she had an appointment to examine the master of the house in the afternoon, the reception room she was sitting in now was, of course, in the main building.

She assessed the room a little. Since the reception room was also where the master received reports from subordinates and handled other official documents, there was a large work desk in the room, piled high with papers. Maomao was a bit surprised. The Moon Prince was very reclusive. Few people at court had contact with him, let alone worked with him. She had not thought he worked so much.

Near the door was an exquisitely carved round wooden table where Maomao was sitting, presumably for the master to enjoy tea with guests. The room was large, so the two tables were set far apart, looking like two different worlds. Next to the tea table was a display cabinet for jade and a few other incomprehensibly shaped wooden objects. The top part was glass, and below were small wooden drawers. Opposite the display cabinet, on the other side of the room near the work desk, stood two enormous bookshelves.

Both the work desk and the tea table were placed next to different windows, and although it was very cold, both windows were wide open. Between the tea table and the work desk sat a large, ceramic-tiled and enameled coal fireplace. Most large palaces of this era used floor heating instead of soot-prone coal fireplaces. Perhaps this prince simply liked antiquated things.

Maamei had gone off somewhere. Only she and a tea-serving maid remained in the room. A strange, stifling feeling crept into Maomao's chest. Something was deeply unsettling about this room. Was something... out of place?

Out of place? Maomao thought she must be exhausted from working so much lately. She counted on her fingers. She still had a good amount of leave. After this herb shipment was done, she would ask for a few days off.

The cold wind blowing through the window brushed lightly against her skin. This room was not warm enough, but the large fireplace in the room gave her enough confidence to sit and feel the late winter breeze like this.

The main building of the Moon Residence was surrounded by plum trees. The pure white plum blossoms had begun to bloom. A few petals drifted in on the wind, flying towards her. One large blossom was even bolder, landing fully on the table, resting neatly and shyly before her.

She stared at the flower. Its petals were white as this season's snow. Plum blossoms usually grew in clusters, graceful yet radiant. She was suddenly reminded of the apple blossom season in Eyndra. Apple blossoms were white like this, too, and some trees even had a faint pink blush. She reached out her hand as if to lift the plum blossom, but changed her mind midway, quickly slamming her hand down, smacking the blossom flat on the table.

The tea-serving maid was very professional, not letting out the slightest sound of laughter. Only later would Maomao learn that she could not speak.

Her mind drifted along with the plum blossoms, until Maamei returned. Maomao thought the master of the house had returned and was about to stand, but it turned out that was not the case.

"I meant to ask you something earlier but forgot..."

Maamei had returned to ask Maomao for a prescription for sinus pain in winter. It seemed her mother suffered from this. The condition was not severe, so her mother was too lazy to schedule an appointment with an imperial physician, but the symptoms were troublesome enough to worry her children.

There was blank paper on the table. Maomao opened the drawer below and took out a pencil to write the prescription.

Inside the drawer was a single pencil and an object that looked like a small bronze shell, about the size of three of her fingers. There was still some red paint sticking to it. Maomao felt it looked familiar, but she quickly dismissed it to get to work.

Maamei came and went again. Maomao waited all afternoon, but no one else came. She yawned, feeling sleepy. Around four in the afternoon, another maid came to call the tea-serving maid out into the hallway. They exchanged a few words, and the tea-serving maid left. The remaining one approached and bowed to Maomao.

"Physician Maomao, we have just received word that His Highness the Moon Prince has encountered an unexpected matter. He will likely not be able to return to the residence today. Your appointment to examine him will have to be rescheduled."

"Is there a specific time?"

"The Moon Residence will send someone to invite you, Physician."

Maomao nodded as if in understanding, standing up to take her leave. A wasted afternoon. If Maomao were the type to enjoy flowers, perhaps she would not be so annoyed. The plum blossoms were very beautiful, after all. Unfortunately, she was not. Sitting for so long in a room that felt wrong in a way she could not explain had put her in a foul mood.

It was still drizzling. The wind grew stronger as evening approached. Maomao tightened her sleeves, wanting to hide her trembling hands. A few small, cold raindrops soaked into her skin or clung to her hair. Maomao felt a bit dazed. The cold made her mind sluggish.

"Young miss."

An old woman called to her from behind. She recognized her as the older lady-in-waiting from the morning, the one who had been trying to soothe the older child's crying. Her name seemed to be Suiren. She had also prepared lunch, but she had not eaten with them.

"It is cold. Wear this to keep warm."

She walked over quickly, holding an avocado-green wool cloak. The hood was also lined with very thick fur, which both trapped heat and blocked the small raindrops. Suiren quickly helped Maomao put on the cloak. It was so large it completely enveloped her.

"So, young miss, are you planning to return to the Pharmacy first?"

"Yes, I suppose I will have to trouble the Moon Residence for a carriage."

"Think nothing of it. We brought you here. But see here, Physician Maomao, your joints are not good. Why don't you let our carriage take you straight home? We will have someone go and speak to your carriage at the Pharmacy so they can take it back later."

She smoothed the folds of the cloak, then carefully tucked Maomao's hair into the hood and pulled it up over her head.

"The temperature drops quickly at this hour. The sooner you get home, the better."

"That sounds reasonable," Maomao smiled at the capable old woman. "Please trouble someone to speak a word to my driver."

The old woman had called her "young miss" earlier, so she probably knew who her father was. Suiren also did not forget to press a large bag into Maomao's hands, saying it was a gift of thanks for her.

***

Maomao silently watched the scenery pass by the carriage window. The sky darkened early, and gusts of north wind buffeted the streets, causing the daytime stalls to begin packing up. The market area was noisy with voices. People asked each other if they'd had good sales, complained about difficult customers, about the biting cold. A few people pumped water to wash their stalls, remarking on how warm the well water felt. A gaggle of children stood clustered in front of an incense and candle shop, marveling as a craftsman carved exquisite candles. A hotpot restaurant, opening early for the night, set off a string of celebratory firecrackers.

Maomao startled, clapping her hands over her ears and quickly lowering the window shade.

The cloak she was wearing was the same type as the ones she had at home. She had three identical ones, just in different colors. Even the measurements matched. She recalled Suiren's capable demeanor, Maamei's hawk-like eyes, and the other cautious servants in the residence. As expected of people who worked under the eyes of the imperial family. Even though she had unexpectedly taken Luomen's place, they had managed to investigate her thoroughly in time.

This cloak was very expensive, not the kind of garment a servant could casually give to someone. According to Maamei, the Moon Residence had no female master. Maomao felt a headache coming on. Was it because she was Lakan's daughter?

Were they targeting her? If so, was this canceled appointment a threat of some kind?

What had she done? Or what had Lakan done? She was not sure. She hated having to care about such things. It was a story from months or years ago, or perhaps from a past life, when she had to nervously guess at the state of the war, fearing that someone around her would die in the next random attack. Her only wish then, and perhaps even now, was that if she were to die, they would kill her quickly and not force her to guess and to fear.

Suiren had said her joints were not good. How did she know?

Had they investigated a girl like her so thoroughly? No, that was not right. She had missed something. That room was unsettling. What was strange about it?

Maomao curled up, nearly withdrawing her entire body into the cloak. Her bones began to ache with a throbbing pain. There was nothing to warm the carriage.

In the dull ache, a series of jumbled pieces of information flashed through her mind.

At that time... what did I use to write the prescription? A pencil. A pencil I took from the drawer. But why did I know for certain there would be a pencil in that drawer?

Maomao was suddenly reminded of a day long ago, when she had found a pencil in a bedside cabinet, and had scrawled a few words to ask Anne where she was.

By habit.

She knew what was wrong with that room.

A large work desk placed by a window, with a bookshelf next to it. A fireplace set against the wall, perpendicular to the desk. And by the window on the opposite side, it was not a tea table. That spot should have held a large bed for a troublesome guest to sleep on. And next to that bed was a tall cabinet, split into two parts. The bottom part had drawers and served as a bedside cabinet for miscellaneous items.

Who would place a large bed opposite a work desk? But what if it was not a magnificent, spacious Moon Residence, but just a small red-brick cottage built in a classic Valenque style, and the owner was forced to have another bed for a freeloader?

Maomao ignored her shortness of breath, hastily rummaging through her memory. The work desk was piled with documents, but the auxiliary table next to it was empty. On the surface of the auxiliary table, there was a round hole just the size of a large cup. The display cabinet held many exquisite tea sets. Would a person accustomed to drinking tea put water in a large, crude cup like that to drink?

That cup was for water, but not for drinking. It was for rinsing brushes.

Maomao's hair bun had been rubbed loose by the cloak's hood. A damp gust of wind burst into the carriage, blowing the window curtain open, blowing apart her hair and her chaotic thoughts. She did not pay attention, still trying to remember the details in the room.

There seemed to be something on the work desk. Several tall stacks of documents. And bamboo scrolls. Ah, there was a stack of white paper placed on the outer edge of the table. They were whiter than the usual yellowed paper the court used, and the size was too large for writing or bookbinding.

It was paper for drawing, wasn't it?

Maomao seized the thought in her mind, silently telling herself to calm down. Her hands were shaking too much. There were many rooms decorated in the same way, and there were many artists, right?

Calm down.

Calm down, Maomao.

Her heart pounded. This was not a good sign. Pushing aside the carriage curtain to let the cold wind hit her face, she slowly sorted through the details, looking for anything else suspicious.

She suddenly remembered the strange object in the drawer with the pencil. It looked so familiar. It was shaped like a miniature tunnel, but one of the two ends tapered.

A dead-end tunnel?

The sound of children shouting drew her attention. A group of children was harassing some unlucky shop, repeatedly pulling the bell on the shop's door to make it clang loudly.

Maomao froze. That object was not related to a tunnel at all. It was a small bronze bell, cut in half vertically. The bronze bell Jinshi received from a vendor as a gift near Christmas. The bell that was painted red to hide the scratches on the cheap bronze. The bell he had hung on the window near her bed, telling her that wind chimes were too noisy this season, so they would hang a bronze bell symbolically.

And because it was within her reach, the red paint had gradually peeled off over time. If it didn't peel, she had picked at it until it did.

Why was only half the bell here?

Why was it in the Moon Residence?

Maomao hastily grabbed the gift bag Suiren had given her and opened it with trembling hands. Inside, besides a few types of baked cakes and various dried nuts, were three exquisite glass jars. They were not common in Qinyou, but Maomao knew them well. They were different types of moisturizing cream, for the face, hair, and hands. Judging by the color and scent, she could guess they were made from rose oil, aloe, and deer fat, respectively.

Author’s Note

This chapter is a little long. I almost split it in two, but it felt thin if I did. This was the hardest chapter for me to translate.

This fic is not written in English. I write in my mother tongue first, then translate into English. Many terms for palace architecture live for me in first language, and I cannot always find a neat match in English. That is on me, not on English. So when I translate I end up with a lot of “residence” and “building,” which is boring and not always precise.

I also corrected the name of Court of Judicature and Revision. I think I used the wrong term in the previous chapter.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy the chapter.