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‘Dear, Xiaolan,
My condolences for not writing as often as I should, things have been hectic at the Palace (things have also been hectic personally, if I’m being entirely honest.) How have you been? I have missed you and your gossip dearly.
Me and Jinshi (Do you remember the nymph-like eunuch from the Palace? Well, turns out he’s a Prince and also more of an irritant than you would imagine. He’s beloved to me nonetheless, I suppose.) are set to be married later this year. Along with the birth of the young prince, and a host of other events I hope to tell you about in person.
This leads me to the purpose of my letter. Would you perhaps be interested in coming back to the Palace and being my Head Lady-In-Waiting, Xiaolan? I understand the commitment and how much of an undertaking it truly is, but I can think of no better person to fill the role, and no truer friend.
Again, feel no true pressure. Even if you refuse, take this as a personal invitation to the wedding, even seeing you there would be enough. Thank you for everything, regardless, Xiaolan. I hope life has been treating you well.
With deepest regards, Maomao.’
“Be careful with it,” Maomao grumbled, tentatively passing the scroll to the envoy, who bowed and promised to treat the message with care. Still, it did nothing to ebb Maomao’s nervousness, “What if something happens? What if it doesn’t reach her on time?”
Then, a nasty thought, “What if she says no?”
Xiaolan was under no obligation to accept the role, Maomao would hate for her to feel pressured into returning to the Palace and undertaking such a position.
But it was horrible to think Maomao might never see her again, that the Palace might always feel as empty as it did now.
She missed sitting on the benches outside of their old charge, sharing snacks and talking idly about everything.
“You look troubled,” A voice, saccharine and painfully familiar, floated behind her, “Has something happened, Apothecary?”
“No,” Maomao looked back, meeting Jinshi’s gaze, she sighs, “I sent the letter.”
“To Xiaolan?” Jinshi wrapped his arms around her, resting his head atop hers, “And you're worried?”
Maomao leaned back into him, “I’m worried of something going wrong, I suppose.”
Jinshi hummed thoughtfully, but he said nothing. A sentiment Maomao appreciated greatly, “Is everything going well on your end?”
“For the rites?” Jinshi groaned into her hair, "Unfortunately, yes.”
Maomao suppressed an eye-roll, “Without the rites, there’s no wedding, you know.”
“I know, love,” He grumbled, squeezing her tightly, “But it’s so…stiff.”
It was Maomao’s turn to hum, though hers was more non-committal, she resigned to being embraced for the time being.
…
Later that week, Maomao had resigned to the Old Freak’s estate (much against her better judgement, but it was the most practical option), when the envoy returned, delivering the scroll to Maomao with a bow, “My Lady.”
“Thank you,” Maomao nodded, opening the letter before the man had even slid the door shut.
‘Dear, Maomao,
Hello! It’s been so long since we’ve written, but I understand how busy things can get at the Palace.
Congratulations on your wedding, that’s so exciting (you’ll need to tell me everything when we see each other again!) I’d love to return to the Palace, especially to be a Lady-In-Waiting! Besides, that means we’d actually be able to see each other!!
Please write soon, bye for now, Maomao!!
With love, Xiaolan.
Maomao exhaled, unable to repress the joy she felt. Gently, she re-rolled the scroll, careful to tuck it into her jewelry box, she’d need to show it to Jinshi for clerical purposes, and she’d like to keep it for sentimental reasons. Odd, how weddings could make one feel.
…
‘Dear, Xiaolan,
Warmest greetings, I hope you’re well. I assume you’ve received both the papers for your employment and your formal invitation to the ceremony and prompt reception (I’m almost certain you’ve received them as Jinshi was very insistent on sending them out as soon as possible, he had them fully drafted the day your letter came. The oaf will do anything to avoid doing his actual work.)
I’m extremely grateful to you for agreeing, though again, there’s no pressure. I understand the Palace can be dreary, but it will be great getting to see you regularly again.
With regards, Maomao.’
Jinshi smiled, skimming over the letter, it was his gratingly coy smile, the one that’d always made Maomao’s eye twitch, even now, “Do you really have to read through all of it?”
“Yes,” Jinshi looked up casually, eyes glinting.
“The sentiment is rather sweet,” He said, batting his irritatingly long eyelashes, “Besides, you calling me an oaf.”
Maomao wanted to grab a chair and hit him over the head with it, “Thank you for your interest in my sentiments, Jinshi.”
“And?”
“And what? You’re still an oaf.”
Jinshi huffed, resting his chin on his knuckles, “And you’re certain she’s the best option?”
Is this overgrown lump really doubting my judgment? “I wouldn’t have written to her otherwise.”
“Alright,” He tilted his head, “Anything else?”
“Anything else?” Maomao grumbled, “You’re the one that called me in here. Some of us have real work to attend to, Jinshi.”
“Huddling over some horrible concoction in the Jade Pavilion could hardly be considered work, Maomao,” Jinshi muttered, flipping through his paperwork.
“What are you calling horrible?” Maomao kicked his leg under the desk, delighted at Jinshi’s affronted squeak.
…
“Two days,” Maomao thought, looking around at what would be Xiaolan’s room, “And I’m empty-handed.”
It’d been so long since Maomao had seen Xiaolan last, and it felt wrong to welcome her into the Estate so casually. But what was there to give besides the heaps of fancy dresses and jewelry from nobles currying for the Moon Prince’s favor?
Maomao peered at an empty space just outside the window, a flat grassy patch in the garden, “I think I have an idea.”
…
“Master Gaoshun,” The man turned, bowing when he saw Maomao, “I have a question.”
“What is it, Xiaomao?” He folded his arms into his robes, keeping a casual pace with Maomao.
She gestured for him to lean in closer, cupping her hand over his ear, whispering.
“Oh, I see,” He nodded, too solemn for the subject, “Yes, I believe that can be done, Xiaomao.”
“Thank you, Master Gaoshun.”
“Shall I tell Master Jinshi?”
“No need,” Maomao hummed, elation rising in her mind “He’s been informed of my plan.”
“I see,” Gaoshun smiled, almost fond, “Then I’ll see what I can do, Xiaomao.”
…
Basen swore under his breath, the blanket fluttering in the wind. He grabbed another rock, slamming it into the ground as though in retribution, “Why did I have to help with this?”
“Because your father wanted you to,” Maomao replied, ushering a servant girl into the clearing.
Balancing on the girl’s arms were two tea cups and four plates. Maomao had requested she wait to bring the teapot, but there was still some time until Xiaolan’s arrival.
Besides, at this rate, the tea would’ve been cold, “Master Basen, do you need help?”
“No.” He snapped, slamming a third rock into a corner of the blanket, “I don’t need your help.”
Maomao pinched the bridge of her nose, if this wasn’t an indication for how the rest of the wedding planning would go, she didn’t know what was.
“Shall I help, my lady?” The servant asked, repressing a giggle, “Or shall I put these somewhere.”
“I can take them,” Maomao said, “He’ll be a while, yet. Besides, he’s too dense to accept any help.”
“I’m not dense,” Basen bit, slamming the final rock down, “I’m leaving.
“Thank you both,” Maomao called behind her shoulder, arranging the plates and tea cups as prettily as possible. “Then I have to fetch the food and start the tea.”
…
“Maomao!” Xiaolan called, running up the pathway to the Estate, waving her hands ecstatically, “Hi, Maomao!”
Maomao waved back, stretching out her arms for a hug, “Xiaolan.”
They embraced, smiling into each other’s shoulders, “Hi, Maomao!”
“Hello, Xiaolan,” Maomao tightened her hug, and Xiaolan began to sway the both of them back-and-forth, “It’s been far too long.”
“It really has!” Xiaolan pulled back, but kept her hands on Maomao’s shoulders, “But now I’m back.”
“And I’m grateful for that,” Maomao looped their arms together and led her toward the garden. Xiaolan followed, ogling at the Estate.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married!” Xiaolan chirped, “And to a Prince no less!”
“Honestly?” Maomao said, various memories flickering through her mind, "Neither can I.”
“It’s so romantic,” Xiaolan sighed dreamily, “And this Estate is so pretty!”
“Yeah,” Maomao said, barely restraining her , rounding the corner into the Garden, “Are you hungry, Xiaolan?”
“Mhm!” She nodded, “Why? Do you have any fun snacks?”
“I do,” Maomao gestured to the blanket, the teas and the various snacks strewn out, “I thought you might like this.”
“Maomao,” Xiaolan said, her voice wobbling, “Maomao, this is so nice. It’s like an actual tea party!”
“I’m glad you like,” Maomao smiled, “Now, come sit.”
…
“I’m glad to be back,” Xiaolan hummed, pouring herself another cup of tea, “I’ve missed talking with you.”
“I’ve missed talking to you, too,” Contentment settled over Maomao like a blanket. Xiaolan laughed, eyes crinkling, “I’ve been gone for so long, you’ll have to catch me up on everything!”
“Where to begin?” Maomao sighed, a gentle smile forming on her face, “Well, first I’ll have to tell you about…”