Work Text:
The parlour had long since ceased to resemble a parlour.
Instead, it looked more like one of Maomao's sheds after an especially ambitious experiment.
Bundles of dried herbs covered nearly every available surface. Mortars and pestles sat abandoned amongst half-finished mixtures, while small ceramic bowls filled with crushed pigments littered the low tables. Crimson powders, deep rose hues, brilliant scarlets, and rich burgundies painted the room in varying shades of red. A careless brush of a sleeve would undoubtedly stain the fabric for days.
The air itself had changed. The usual scent of incense and polished wood had been overtaken by the earthy aroma of dried flowers, medicinal herbs, and crushed roots. It was the sort of smell Maomao found comforting.
She had been working for hours.
Her arm ached from the repetitive motion of grinding ingredients into ever finer powders, but she paid it little mind. Herb after herb, flower after flower disappeared beneath her pestle. Each new mixture brought fresh possibilities, and with every batch her excitement only grew.
Jinshi had been called away to a meeting shortly after midday, leaving the pavilion unusually quiet. With no one around to question her activities, Maomao had seized the opportunity to begin a new experiment.
And unlike many of her previous ones, this had the potential to earn her a considerable amount of silver.
The thought alone made her work faster.
The latest mixture finally began to take shape beneath her hands. She carefully scraped the finished lipstick from the grinder, transferring the smooth paste into a collection of small tins she had prepared earlier.
At first glance it appeared perfectly ordinary. She lifted one of the tins and brought it beneath her nose, inhaling softly. A subtle floral scent greeted her, accompanied by the familiar medicinal undertones of the herbs she had selected.
Good.
The herbs were the entire reason the old madam had commissioned the product. Unlike ordinary lipsticks, this one would actively soothe and heal damaged lips. Practical, effective, and fashionable all at once.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of Maomao's mouth.
Even with the old woman's notorious habit of pinching every last copper coin, there was still money to be made here. Especially if the product found its way into the hands of the higher-ranking consorts.
Pairin had been the one to request it in the first place. After entertaining countless clients, her lips often became dry and sore. She wanted something that would speed the healing process without sacrificing appearance.
Naturally, Maomao had become interested.
She had already tested the medicinal properties with considerable success. The formula worked. The only remaining problem was deciding which pigment produced the most appealing colour.
Unfortunately, that required testing, a task she was not particularly looking forward to.
The evening sun filtered through the lattice windows, casting warm shades of gold, orange, and pink across the room. The light caught the scattered bowls and polished tins, causing them to gleam softly amidst the chaos.
Outside, the sounds of the palace had begun to quiet as the day drew to a close. Inside, Maomao hurriedly arranged the various samples into neat rows. It was getting late and Jinshi would no doubt return soon.
The thought alone made heat creep into her face. Being discovered surrounded by cosmetics was embarrassing enough, being discovered while trying on various shades of lipstick was infinitely worse.
She needed to finish quickly. As she reached for another tin, an old memory surfaced unbidden. The lipstick reminded her of the day she had been forced to help Jinshi disguise himself as a commoner. At the time, she had considered the task straightforward, a little makeup, a few adjustments, and no one would recognise him.
Then she had made the mistake of applying colour to his lips. A simple red, nothing particularly remarkable. Yet the image remained frustratingly clear in her memory. She could still remember how absurdly well it suited him.
Maomao immediately suppressed a shudder, it truly was unfair. Jinshi was beautiful in a way that seemed almost unnatural, the sort of beauty that made people stare despite themselves.
Even now, she found herself comparing the colours before her to the memory of his face. The comparison was ridiculous. Perhaps she wasn't the proper person to test these shades after all. No matter how successful the formula was, the results would surely look lacking on her.
Maybe she should request some leave and return to the Verdigris House. Pairin would undoubtedly volunteer herself. If not Pairin, then one of the other courtesans. They would provide far more useful feedback than Maomao ever could.
Yes.
That would be better. Anything would be better than sitting here applying lipstick to herself.
Just as she reached for another sample, a tired sigh sounded from beyond the door. Maomao froze. The familiar sound was followed by the scrape of wood before the door slid open far quicker than she would have liked.
Her heart nearly stopped. There was no time to hide anything, no time to clear away the pigments. No time to explain why Jinshi's parlour now looked as though a cosmetics merchant had exploded inside it.
Acting on instinct, she immediately lowered her head into a deep bow. Her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Surely he would be upset. She had occupied half the room, stained several surfaces, and transformed his elegant parlour into a disaster zone. Worse still, she had never actually asked for permission.
Silence settled over the room, the seconds stretched painfully. Maomao bit the inside of her cheek. Perhaps it would be better to stop hiding and simply face whatever reaction awaited her.
“Master Jinshi, you're home earlier than expected.” Maomao finally risked lifting her head. The sight that greeted her was not quite what she had anticipated.
Jinshi stood frozen in the doorway, one hand still resting against the frame as his gaze slowly swept across the room. His eyes were slightly wider than usual, moving from the scattered herbs to the rows of pigments, then to the dozens of tins occupying nearly every available surface.
He looked less angry than bewildered. “The meeting ran quicker than anticipated.” His gaze settled on a bowl of bright red powder before shifting back to her. “Mind telling me what's going on here?”
The confusion in his voice was genuine. Maomao almost wished he would simply scold her, that would surely be easier. Instead, he was looking around as though he had entered the wrong pavilion entirely.
“I've been making cosmetics,” she answered with a shrug. “Lipstick, to be precise.”
His eyes drifted toward the collection of tins lined neatly across the table. “I can see that.” He took a cautious step into the room, carefully avoiding a pile of drying herbs. “Why?”
What was with all the questions? Usually when she caused chaos, people simply complained about it.
She gestured vaguely around the room. “Pairin asked if I could develop a lipstick with healing properties. I was merely creating it for her, obviously.”
“Obviously.” The slight amusement in his voice immediately put her on edge. Was he mocking her?
Before she could decide, he crouched beside one of the tables, examining the rows of finished products. “And have you been successful?”
The question instantly brightened her mood, her earlier embarrassment disappearing, her eyes practically lighting up. “Yes!”
She hurried toward him before she could stop herself. “I used several herbs that retain moisture and prevent drying. They also help soothe soreness and irritation.”
She grabbed one of the tins and thrust it toward him. “The lips stay hydrated longer, and minor damage heals more quickly. It's practical and fashionable.” The words tumbled out faster and faster. “The perfect cosmetic for a courtesan.”
By the time she finished speaking she had somehow crossed the room entirely. Jinshi glanced from the tin to her animated expression. A soft smile appeared on his face. The kind of smile that always seemed strangely genuine whenever she spoke about medicine.
“Well that's good.” His voice was quiet. “Have you considered sharing it with the high consorts?”
The question made her blink. It was exactly what she had been considering. She turned back toward the low table.
Tins covered nearly every inch of available space. Some had been carefully smoothed until their surfaces gleamed. Others were hastily finished and abandoned the moment a new idea struck her.
The sunset pouring through the windows painted the colours in shades of gold and amber.
“I have,” she admitted. “But I need to choose a suitable shade first.”
“You can't simply offer all of them and let them choose?”
Of course he would suggest that. She sighed dramatically before picking up one of the tins. A soft rose colour, it was one of her better attempts. “Depending on complexion and facial features, certain colours can make someone look washed out.”
She opened the tin and angled it toward him. “It would be rude to offer a consort something that doesn't suit her.”
“I see.” His gaze lingered on the lipstick before returning to her face. “And you have to try these on yourself to determine that?”
She was slightly surprised he had connected the dots so quickly. “That was the original plan.”
The words came more reluctantly than she intended. Her eyes drifted to the shade resting in her hand. Then, despite herself, to Jinshi. His skin was far fairer than hers, smooth and pale enough that many women would become envious at the mere sight of it.
Maomao, on the other hand, had spent most of her life outdoors. No matter how much time she now spent indoors, traces of sun-kissed colour still remained. The high consorts preferred skin closer to Jinshi's complexion. Jinshi followed her gaze as understanding slowly dawned across his face.
A thought suddenly occurred to her. A rather excellent thought. A small smirk spread across her face. “Say, Master Jinshi.”
The expression immediately made him suspicious. “Yes?”
“Could you help me with something?”
He straightened slightly. “I don't see why not.” A smile tugged at his lips. “What do you need?”
“A model.”
“A model?” He repeated the word slowly. The confusion on his face was almost enough to make her laugh.
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Perhaps if she acted particularly polite, he would be less likely to refuse. “Your complexion is much closer to the consorts than mine.”
She pointed toward her own cheek. “I'm far too tan. The results would be more accurate if tested on someone with fairer skin.”
It absolutely had nothing to do with wanting to see him in lipstick again, that would be incredibly inappropriate of her.
Jinshi considered her explanation. Then, to her relief, he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Success.
She barely stopped herself from smiling too broadly. Unfortunately, the victory was short-lived, as she was smiling Jinshi stepped towards her, she instinctively took a step back. He took another step forward until her legs had hit the edge of the low table. He leaned down slightly, invading her personal space.
“Alright, Apothecary.” His voice had dropped noticeably. “I'll be your model.” The smile that followed immediately made her suspicious. “On one condition.”
There it was, she should have assumed there would be a catch. Her eyes narrowed at him, “and what might that be, sir?”
His smile widened, a mischievous sparkle appearing in his eyes. “You have to try the makeup too.”
She simply stared..
He continued, “you wish to test cosmetics meant for consorts.” He gestured between the two of them. “Surely there are women in the palace with a complexion closer to yours than mine.” His smile grew impossibly smug. “Wouldn't it be best to test both?”
She couldn’t really argue with logic, it made sense. She just hated how happy he seemed, nevermind the fact he looked incredibly suspicious right now. Just what was he planning?
Slowly, she nodded. “Fine.” Her eyes met his, only now did she fully realise just how close he still was. Close enough that she could count individual lashes if she wanted to. “That's fair.”
“Good.” The satisfaction in his voice was immediate.
Before she could reconsider her decision, Jinshi turned and made his way toward the low couch. He collapsed into the cushions with a dramatic sigh, stretching one arm across the backrest as though preparing for an official portrait.
He smiled at her expectantly. “Then please, Apothecary.” His dark eyes sparkled with far too much enthusiasm. “Go ahead.”
She let out a pleased hum as she took a seat beside him, using the tip of her finger to turn his head towards her. He really was poreless, it was incredibly unfair. She picked up a small tin of red lipstick, applying it softly to his lips before sitting back to admire her handiwork.
She was more used to it the second time around, though she had no doubt this man could start a war over his beauty if he wanted to.
The shade truly did look good on him. The colour drew attention to features that already bordered on unfair. His pale skin made the shade appear richer, deeper, more striking. Her fingertip traced the outline of his lips, they too were perfect. She couldn’t wait to try the rest of the colours on him. She wondered briefly which would look best. Though it seemed the deep red would be pretty hard to beat.
“So… how do I look?” His voice drew her out of her thoughts, her fingers retreating too fast to be deemed normal.
She turned her face away with a huff, “it looks good, sir. You suit it far better than I do.”
She felt his fingers on her chin as he tilted her back to face him. “Now,” he said, his voice soft, “I don’t believe that’s true.”
“It is.” This time she shrugged, not shying away from his deep gaze.
“Really?” he asked, feigning surprise, “I guess there is only one way to find out.”
She sighed, she rarely ever wore makeup unless she was forced to dress up. Still, it had been a condition of their deal. Slowly she dipped her fingers back into the product, until Jinshi grabbed her wrist, halting her movements.
“No, not like that.” He murmured, his eyes almost half lidded as he watched her.
Only then did she realise just how close they were sitting, their knees practically touching. Perhaps they were both simply too tired.
She gave him a flat look, “how else do you propose I apply the lipstick, sir?”
For a moment he simply watched her, then his voice lowered into something that sent a shiver down her spine. “Like this.”
He leaned closer, and for a moment she thought he was going to whisper in her ear. That was until she felt the lightest pressure against her cheek, a second of warmth and then it was gone again.
Her breath caught as he retreated, his hand coming up to trace the print of his lips on her cheek as he admired his work. Her face was surely red by now, probably red enough to match the shade of lipstick. His face was still close, she could feel his breath against her skin as his eyes never left the stain.
Her eyes darted around the room in an attempt to look anywhere but at him. The window, the wall, the floor. When had he become so forward? She could have pushed him away, why didn’t she push him away?
“I must say apothecary, the colour suits you quite well.” His fingers traced her cheek, the touch featherlight. He stared at her as if she was the only thing in the whole world. A stupid thought.
She let out a strangled noise, turning her head further away, “please don’t joke about such things, sir.”
“You don’t believe me?”
She shook her head hastily, her eyes squeezed shut. She felt warm all over, when had the room become so hot?
“Well,” he spoke gently, his fingers coming up to tilt her face towards him yet again. “I guess we’ll just have to change that, won’t we apothecary?”
She didn’t answer, far more concerned with pretending he wasn’t there, that he hadn’t done that, that his lips hadn’t felt soft against her cheek, like she didn’t want him to do it again. She would feign ignorance until the bitter end.
Then she felt it. His lips pressing into her other cheek, more forceful this time before departing and pressing against her forehead. Each time leaving a small print of his lips, the lipstick she had made only earlier, now making a mess on her face.
She opened her eyes slightly, watching as he leaned down to place another kiss to her forehead before kissing her nose softly. She could feel the heat rising in her, it felt unusually nice as she let him pepper her face with kisses. She could have pushed him away, but her hands all but wound in his robe, only able to twitch nervously. He removed himself from her cheek with a bite and a lick, her breath hitching even further as he pushed her face further to the side with his lips.
He left a trail of kisses down her jaw, nibbling as he moved down and she had to bite her tongue to prevent any unsavoury noises from escaping her. She could feel herself growing dizzy from the assault, her eyelids growing almost heavy as she felt his hand on the small of her back to keep her steady.
She could feel a hand come up to tug her clothes, his lips on her neck as soon as he skin was exposed. Kissing, licking, and biting his way down her skin, each time leaving a lipstick stain and a mark to match. This time a small moan escaped her as her head tilted further and further back as it grew heavier with every kiss. He only huffed a laugh, burying himself further into her neck, almost pinning her to the small couch.
His hand rested against her hip, gripping it tight in a way that only added to the sudden pleasure. He didn’t need to grip so tightly, she wouldn’t try to escape him.
His assault seemed to last for hours, and she was sure he had kissed every inch of skin he could get access to. She was left a moaning mess by the end of it. Her breathing heavy from all the gasps, her robes askew, her hair tugged to the side to expose more skin. Lipstick stains and marks littered her skin as it glistened with his saliva.
He raised his head from where it was buried in her neck. He watched her struggle to gain any composure, a small smirk on his lips as he watched her eyes return from being glazed over, almost like a fog had taken over her senses.
Just as she had started to come down from her high, he caught her lips in a kiss that she moaned into, barely having enough energy to fight back, leaving her lips coloured. The thought of not being able to tell where the lipstick ended and the bruising began only spurred him on further.
Perhaps if he hadn’t blindsided her with those kisses along her face first, she could have turned the tables. Surprised him with her courtesan techniques, showed him exactly who he was dealing with. Unfortunately for her, he had completely overwhelmed her, overtaking her senses with such suddenness.
His mouth left hers too quickly as his fingers found her chin again, tugging her face towards him in a way that had heard moving with little restraint. He moved her head to different angles, up and down then side to side, then he nodded at the art he had created as if giving his approval. She let him manhandle her, watching him with tired, weary eyes.
When he had given her his one condition, she hadn’t expected this.
“It really does suit you, apothecary.” His whisper was low, heavy almost, she let out a small whimper at the way he said her title. “You really should consider wearing this shade more often.”
She merely nodded. Her head sluggish in the aftermath as it spun with all of this new information. It was late, late enough for dinner. Suiren would be calling for him soon, and she would have needed to clean up by then.
Just then she felt his hands on her skin again. One on her shoulder, near her neck, his grip gentle, the other stroking her hair as if he hadn’t just attacked her face mere moments ago. “Oh, one last thing.” His voice was still low as he examined what he had created with something akin to amusement.
“Sir?” She couldn’t manage much more than that. Her mind replaying the feeling of his lips on her skin, the marks that would be left long after the lipstick was removed.
“You won’t be removing this until you retire for the night.” He smirked, his thumb stroking her cheek almost softly, “consider it your punishment for turning my parlor into your own personal laboratory.”
Her face flushed violently, the thought of standing there during dinner, next to Gaoshun and Suiren, lipstick marks littering her face. Was he trying to claim her in his own perverted way? He had already bought her out, everyone knew she was his.
She could almost imagine him working late tonight simply to keep her by his side, a perfect trophy for him to look at.
“Do you understand, apothecary?” She nodded as his thumb pressed against her lips, parting them slightly as he smeared the colour around.
“Good girl.”