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“I don’t want to leave.”
“But you can’t stay here.”
She stares at him with cold eyes, but not with indifference as she once might have. The complete opposite. She’s too invested in staying by his side to simply accept what he proposes and walk away. She keeps her hands folded in front of her, respectful in the presence of the emperor, and her head bowed low.
“What was it all for, sir?” She asks, knowing that it’s out of line to question the Son of Heaven, but demanding answers all the same.
He doesn’t take his eyes off her; they’re obviously pained but full of certainty, as if the unilateral decision he’s made is the right one. It’s only right in that he has the power to make it.
“I promised you that I’d never cage you,” He says simply, although his voice is scratchy and worn down from what might have been hours of crying before this meeting. “That’s a promise that I will not break.”
“I want to stay,” She tries, desperate for him to burn the scroll that had arrived at her dormitory this morning, decreeing that she travel to the West and study as an official physician. As she read it, she found herself rushing to his palace, knowing that tragedy must have struck for such a thing to arrive at her doorstep. But he’s alive, still in his old villa, although the sounds of servants packing his belongings plays vaguely in the background. She can mostly just hear the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, throbbing intensely as she knows that he won’t change his mind.
“The emperor is dead,” The new emperor declares. It’s not yet official, but the decisions he’s making implies that he has only the official ceremony left to solidify his ascension.
“His Majesty had two sons,” Maomao states as if it makes a difference. It’s not even true, because the former emperor had three, the eldest now sitting at his rightful place.
“Whom he chose not to name as his successor unless they reached fifteen years of age,” Jinshi- no, the emperor- clarifies for her. “His will was written with the intention to seat me on the throne if he died before that occurred.”
The emperor pauses, swallowing an invisible but heavy lump lodged in his throat. “That is, that I was to be his heir unless that condition was met. It wasn’t.”
Maomao nods, having already assumed that was the case. “Did His Majesty indicate why he has gone back on his word?”
“He has named Lady Ah-Duo as the Mother of the Nation,” The emperor’s eyes look away, for the first time showing hints of uncertainty. “I suppose that speaks for itself.”
“It’s not how you should have found out,” Maomao is willing to admit her guilt in keeping this from him. “I apologise for not telling you. If I had then we could have prevented this.”
He snorts. “What? Blindsiding me with the information that my brother is actually my father upon news of his death? Yes, Maomao. It would have been beneficial for me to know before today.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s all she can offer. She has never been of much worth, but now it feels rather insulting that he would send her away to study despite promising to make her his. But he’s right that he did promise that it was contingent on her not being relegated to a cage. She can’t pretend that it’s something she wants either, but she doesn’t want to be sent to another country. It feels like a punishment. She would rather be his mistress- although no such thing exists for an emperor. Any woman he sleeps with is as good as a wife, and she’d end up trapped anyway.
“I’m not upset with you,” The emperor declares. “I want you to move on and I think this will be a great way to do so. When you return, I hope to have the laws changed about female physicians so that you may practice freely- anywhere you want. Just not in the palace. Not right now. Not… with me.”
“How long?” Maomao asks although she has a rough idea of how long the training takes.
“Five years,” The emperor’s brows furrow, a slight frown settling on his face as if he’s just now understanding the decision he’s made. “You will already be at a more advanced level than most matriculants, but this program includes intensive surgical training in addition to the basics of medicine.”
Maomao nods again, slipping easily into the role of an obedient servant. “You’ll have children by then. Probably many wives.”
“I don’t really want to think about it,” he says with an exasperated sigh. “But I’ll perform my duty to my nation.”
A small smile creeps upon her face. He wouldn’t be the man she loves if he didn’t put others above his own wants and needs. “Okay. I mean- yes, Your Majesty. I humbly accept your proposal.”
“All these years,” The face that accompanies these words is no longer the ruling monarch’s. It’s Jinshi this time when he speaks, “I’ve wanted to hear you say those words. Just not like this.”
“I regret it,” Maomao looks up to meet his eyes, hoping that she can communicate emotion for once in her life, “I regret not accepting your proposal sooner.”
He lifts a hand, almost offended, “Don’t. Don’t regret it, because I don’t. You have far too much talent and wisdom to waste sitting in a villa waiting for your turn for an imperial visit. Or dodging assassination attempts and sabotage from jealous consorts. You deserve better than gambling with your life in childbirth.”
“Do the other women deserve it?” Maomao tries to argue.
“No one does,” Jinshi admits, “But I’m selfish enough to shield you from it. For that, I’m sorry.”
Her arms fold over each other, covered by her sleeves as she bows. “I’m your loyal subject, Your Majesty. You must not apologise to someone as lowly as me.”
“You are not lowly,” Jinshi’s voice wavers, trembling as he struggles to maintain his composure. He’s just lost his father, after all. “You are everything to me.”
But in the end, it means nothing, doesn’t it? They had always been separated by the circumstances of their births. In truth, Jinshi had stepped off his pedestal to meet her on the ground, but he has always been destined to ascend to the heavens. She’s always known that, and yet it doesn’t ease the ache in her heart that this day has actually come.
They don’t say anything more. There’s nothing that can fix something which isn’t broken. This is how it was always meant to be; reality having finally caught up to their foolish hopes. She feels regret for so many things; for not fighting harder or accepting him sooner. But she has to accept this, accept her emperor’s decree without complaint, because this was how it was always going to happen.
~.~
Five years without seeing each other, or having a proper conversation, or even knowing how the other is doing. It hurts more than Maomao thought it would, but she survives. She has always survived through adversity, and this was no different.
At least she knows he is well. News of the Emperor of Li isn’t hard to come by in Shaoh. She receives information in passing, more when she finally picks up on the language. She also receives occasional visits from Miss Chue, who bears gifts from His Majesty, usually in the form of rare herbs and medicines. Every year on her birthday, she receives a few ox bezoars. On holidays, velvet antlers. He’s not subtle in declaring his continued affection for her, and she doesn’t mind being spoiled. It’s hard to be away from your homeland, from your friends and family and everything you know as true. But she endures because she’s a survivor, and she knows that she’ll return home with far more than she left with.
She will not lie and pretend that she doesn’t enjoy her time away. She meets new friends, gains new colleagues and mentors who nurture her in ways that she likely would have never received in Li. By the time the five years are over, she’s a fully-fledged physician. She performs surgeries by her lonesome, diagnoses rare conditions, and writes her own papers that find themselves in libraries across the continent. She makes a lot for herself during her time in Shaoh, and she cannot deny the pride she feels behind her accomplishments.
It’s a life she would never have had in Li. Not if she had stayed by his side. It’s a bittersweet acknowledgement that he was right. She has to concede that he had done right by her, regardless of how much her heart felt otherwise.
Although he sends her gifts, she never receives a letter. She doesn’t send any back with his couriers either. Perhaps, rumours of the emperor having a lover in Shaoh would spell trouble for her. It’s harder for him to protect her in a foreign country. But she yearns to see his delicate handwriting, to read his boyish words of complaints about all the work he has to do even while he does it anyway. She doesn’t get to know if he’s eating well or getting enough sleep. She doesn’t know if he’s found comfort in his new position or if the tension in court has risen due to the Empress Dowager’s son being passed over in his favour.
Being closer to I-Sei province, she knows that they aren’t happy with the decision. But his handling of their home during the crisis caused by Gyokuen has proven to satiate the people of the western province. They trust him, even if they wanted one of their own to ascend. He had proven himself without a doubt in so many aspects while not knowing that he was being perfectly groomed for the throne.
What she does know about him, is that he has four high consorts selected from the most prominent families in Li. He is not known to have favourites, nor is he poised to choose an Empress any time soon. But he is nothing if not the perfect man for the job, because in the five years of his reign, he has three healthy children; one, a son.
When the news arrived that the emperor of Li had an heir only two years into his reign, Maomao accepted it with a straight face and carried on with her studies as normal. But she went to bed that night and cried for the first time in years. Maomao had only ever wanted to experience pregnancy for the placenta, but that night she learned that she had a secondary reason. She had wanted to be the one to bear his children, not some other woman who he had likely been forced to lie with.
But she moves on from those feelings rather quickly. It hurts less when she hears years later that he has two daughters. She imagines that he loves them quite dearly, all his children, and he wants to protect them more than anything. He probably wishes he could send them away too, knowing that the rear palace, and Li overall, is a dangerous place for heavenly blood- something which he chooses to bear all on his own.
It’s said that he works closely with the Empress Dowager, that he protects both his brothers from factions who might use them as political tools against him. He keeps both Gyokuyou and Ah-Duo as his closest advisors, and even the former Empress Dowager who he had grown up calling ‘mother.’ For the head of a patriarchy, he keeps women on his council, and it shows with the laws he passes.
During her final year of study, she receives the news that it is now legal for women to practice medicine. Another delivered promise that she must concede in his favour. She hates that he was right more than she hates their separation. She feels it would somehow be better if he made a mistake, that they were supposed to be together and he chose wrong. But instead, she lives with the knowledge that she was never going to be anything more than his apothecary.
Upon returning to Li, she is immediately approached to run the clinic in the rear palace. While spending time at the Verdigris House, catching up with Joka who has now taken over from the old madame who ails, Maomao receives the letter signed by Empress Gyokuyou. It’s not a command per se; it doesn’t come directly from the emperor, but she knows that she has little room to refuse. Her qualifications were paid for by the Crown, after all, it was only natural that they came to collect on their investment.
She goes without a fuss. She receives her own small villa as an official physician, allowed to reside in the outer court as an equal to men. She goes about her duties in the rear palace with diligence. Her father has now retired, moving into the spare bedroom of her home as his mobility has waned over the years. She’s anticipating that he will pass any day now, even though he still provides her with the soundest advice whenever she has an issue at work.
Yao and En’en are easy to catch up with; Yao is studying endlessly to pass the entrance exams to become an official physician too, and anywhere Yao goes, En’en is sure to follow. Maomao never had to do an exam. Her education was a gift from Heaven itself.
She doesn’t get to see him in her first few months back in the rear palace. She likes to think that he just doesn’t know what to say to her. She certainly doesn’t know what to say to him, other than give her thanks. She attends to his belongings; his wives, his royal mothers and his children. Even the servants who fall ill receive treatment from her in the clinic which she’s set up.
She doesn’t hate any of his wives; she doesn’t even dislike them. They’re young women, close in age to her, who didn’t have the option of freedom that she did- even if she never actually chose it. She finds the Wise Consort to be a woman of great intellect; they often spend hours chatting and discussing books after the check-up has ended. This woman is the one who bore him a son and will likely be his Empress. She has the charm, wit and precious male heir to take on the job. In addition, she’s more beautiful than Maomao could ever dream to be.
It’s not easy to inquire about their sexual health. She’s intimately aware of how often he visits, and the consorts freely tell her that intimacy with him is rare but a delight when it occurs. Her professional training keeps the smile on her face as she listens, then advises the women how to increase their chances of conceiving given that he rarely lies with them. She doesn’t want to think about why, but she knows that it’s probably a difficult task for him. But each of his high consorts seem to adore him and praise him for his generosity and gentleness with their children.
His son takes after his mother. He’s only three years of age, but he speaks well enough to charm his ladies-in-waiting. The entire court speaks about how the child will make a great emperor, and Maomao admits that she sees enough of him in his son that she has to agree. His daughters are younger but equally as precocious. Empress Dowager Gyokuyou spends a lot of time with them, allowing Lingli to experience the joy of having sisters. She’s able to see how close knit the family is despite the obvious potential for civil war. It seems that the emperor has smoothed over the issue of factions within his family.
The rear palace is far from booming. She overhears the eunuchs discussing how he refuses to visit a woman outside of his high consorts. The middle consorts mostly spend their time with each other, accepting that he’s not like his predecessor. There aren’t any lower ranked consorts to feel scorned. But he’s more successful than the previous reign, simply by the fact that he has living children five years in.
She’s mixing a concoction in her clinic when they meet again, the same place that she had spent most of her days as a servant while helping out the quack doctor. She’s not paying much attention to the sound of the door opening, and she’s caught off guard when he arrives alone. She can see a silhouette of a man who looks like Gaoshun standing guard outside, but it might be Basen with how much time has passed.
Maomao drops her mortar quickly, standing and then falling into a deep bow before she can properly take in his features. From her position, she can see that he still wears the finest of robes but now with more gold accents than his previously preferred colour palette. She slowly lifts her head at his command, and her breath hitches at the sight of his face.
He’s just as beautiful as before, if not more. He has aged into a man, his more feminine features having faded as his jaw became more pronounced and cheeks slimmed down. He doesn’t have a beard like his predecessor, a fact that makes her want to laugh and ask if it’s because he’s unable to grow one. He’s looking at her fondly, his obsidian eyes roaming over her face and then body as he takes in the sight of her. She wonders how much she has changed from his perspective.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Jinshi says. Jinshi- because this isn’t really the emperor of Li visiting the physician of the rear palace. He has his own personal physicians, still heavily male dominated. She knows that the lift on the ban on female physicians is to benefit the rear palace now, but with the hopes that its effects will be revolutionary in the future.
Maomao genuinely smiles at his words, her hands folding politely in front of her as they did on the day he sent her away. “Thank you for your gifts, Your Majesty. They brought me great joy whenever I was feeling homesick.”
Jinshi returns her smile, and it’s as bright as she remembers. There’s no more sparkly eunuch persona left in him, just the man in the highest seat in the nation. Her eyes fall to the scar running along his right cheek; it has faded into near invisibility, but Maomao could never miss it. It had been the first sign of who he was to become, that beneath all that beauty was a man who bled- a man who would bleed himself dry for his country.
“I’m glad to hear,” Jinshi says, taking a seat by her workstation, hands fiddling with her tools. “Sit with me, please?”
She quickly sits beside him, slightly embarrassed to have the son of heaven on floors which she hadn’t remembered to clean this week. She doesn’t tell him that in case he has gained an affinity for plopping off heads, although she doubts that someone like him could ever grow a fondness for killing.
“You don’t have to say please,” Maomao clears her throat, “Every word you say is a command.”
He sighs, “Maomao.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Can you pretend with me?” His eyes are now despondent, face having fallen at her formality. “Can you pretend that we are just two friends who are catching up after five years apart?”
That is what we are, Maomao thinks. In their hearts, at least. But in reality, they are simply emperor and subject and there are lines which cannot be crossed. But they used to pretend so well, and that’s what he’s asking for.
“I can do that,” Maomao nods, “May I call you Master Jinshi?”
“Please,” His forlorn expression clears, “Or just Jinshi.”
“Very well, Master Jinshi,” Maomao insists on keeping the honourific. She had never dropped it before, so she didn’t see a reason to now.
“I’m very proud of you,” Jinshi says next, his hands now fiddling with his sleeves. He’s nervous, although Maomao sees no reason why he should be. “Everything you’ve accomplished has made me very proud.”
Maomao picks up her mortar and pestle, continuing to grind her herbs into a paste. Since they are pretending, she believes she can act as she used to- those days when he’d come to bother her while she worked in the apothecary’s shop coming to mind as if they were recent memories.
“Thank you, sir.” Maomao wants to say more, but she cannot find it in herself to be brave. It wouldn’t help either of them if she expressed her regrets. What was done was done. He was right.
“I wanted to know,” Jinshi’s voice remained timid, as if it weren’t the most powerful voice in the land. “I wanted to know if you’re happy.”
Maomao pauses her grinding to smile at him. She’s honest when she answers, “Yes. I am.”
Jinshi breaks out into a wide grin, his eyebrows lifting with the rest of his face. “You are? I’m so glad!”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Maomao chuckles, resuming her work. “I spend my days either practicing medicine or making it.”
“I knew you would be,” Jinshi mutters, more to himself than her but she still hears it. “That’s all I wanted.”
“Are you happy, sir?” Maomao dares to ask. She can see that his eyes are heavy with the hint of dark bags beneath them. She sees the way his shoulders had slumped in fatigue once she agreed to drop formalities. She knows that he’s living a life that he never wanted, but she dares to ask if he’s found some amount of happiness.
“I can’t complain,” Jinshi shrugs, “The nation is peaceful. We’ve recovered well from the plagues of the years past and we’re more than equipped to deal with future catastrophes.”
“I asked about you, Master Jinshi,” Maomao points out, “Not the nation. I’m well aware that you’ve done an excellent job as her emperor.”
Jinshi tries to hide the tinge of colour blooming in his cheeks, but he starts to sputter like he did back when they were teenagers and didn’t know how to accept a compliment from her. It seems he still doesn’t. “I- I’m doing well. I’m healthy according to my physicians.”
“Are you happy?” Maomao asks again.
“I have children!” Jinshi blurts out before slapping a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you this way.”
Maomao laughs openly this time. “I know, sir. I’m their physician, remember?”
“Right,” Jinshi clears his throat, eyes still avoiding hers. “Right, yes. I mean that my children make me happy.”
“I can imagine,” Maomao nods. “I’m not upset, by the way. You deserve to find happiness in others.”
He’s silent for a moment, his hand coming up to cradle his jaw as a petulant expression takes over his face. “I suppose it all feels like I’m following a script. I’m happy to have my children. I love them dearly. But I feel as if everything that’s happened has been out of my control. It’s not a very good feeling.”
“Me too,” Maomao raises a brow, “It wasn’t my choice to become a physician. You made that decision for me.”
His eyes glance towards her and huffs indignantly. “It was the right choice to make.”
“It was,” Maomao wants him to know that she doesn’t resent him. “I can’t thank you enough for doing it.”
“I-” Jinshi is stuttering again, no sign of an emperor’s grace as he fully turns to face her. “You’re grateful?”
“Very,” Maomao puts down her tools so she can mimic his pose in front of her, fully facing him with her hands in her lap. “You’ve made me very happy.”
His eyes soften as the colour in his cheeks spreads down to his neck. “You’re welcome.”
“Master Jinshi?” Maomao leans in closer.
“Y-Yes?”
“Do you want me to be your mistress?”
He’s frozen for a moment, his brain taking a while to catch up. She sees as the connection is made when his mouth falls open, jaw slack as he processes her question, and then he’s shuffling backwards to get away from her. “No! Maomao- what?”
“I’m just asking,” Maomao continues to smile.
“You shouldn’t,” Jinshi frowns even as his entire face resembles a ripe tomato. “It would defeat the purpose of all of this.”
“I’d be willing to keep it a secret,” Maomao offers.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you willing to become a mistress?” Jinshi’s back is now pressed against the door, as if he doesn’t trust himself to be any closer to her. Thinking back, he had always professed a lack of self-control. But it had always been a lack of self-awareness; he has done nothing but control his urges around her and make choices that oppose his base instincts.
“Because I care about you,” Maomao admits freely. She’s had five years to think about it, “And I want you to be happy.”
Jinshi swallows. “It wouldn’t make me happy. Not because I don’t want you- you know that I do. But because there’s no world where we don’t get caught and you end up in the rear palace as a consort. I won’t break my promise to you. I won’t ever hurt you.”
“You have hurt me,” Maomao clarifies although she’s not upset by his words. “You hurt me when you sent me away and didn’t let me stay by your side.”
He shakes his head, fighting thoughts which she cannot hear. “That was temporary. You’re happy now. If I sleep with you, then I’ll create a permanent pain for you to bear.”
Maomao shrugs, “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” Jinshi insists.
“I still want you to be happy,” Maomao says. She knows she can’t plead with him to change his mind, to let her be his. But she still wants to give herself to him in any way she can.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Jinshi’s fidgeting finally ceases. He shifts to sit more comfortably with his back to the wall but moves no closer than before. “Keep being happy, and accept my presents, and I will be happy.”
“That’s all then?” Maomao doesn’t think it’s enough on her part. “I should keep accepting from you while giving nothing myself?”
“Yes,” Jinshi says with a finality that he must have learned in his role as emperor. “Let me gift you all the ox bezoars in the world and build you a clinic in the Pleasure District. Take everything that I give you and be happy.”
She nods. “Okay, sir. I can do that for you.”
Jinshi smiles, “Then, I’m happy. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you.”
“I know, but-” Jinshi’s hand moves to run down his face. “Just pretend with me, will you?”
Smiling, she blinks into those obsidian eyes, gazing into the soul of the man whom she’ll always love, even if he’s unwilling to let her show it. “I will.”