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The early morning sun filters through Maomao’s window, making her bed all the more warm and welcoming, threatening to keep her in place in spite of her duties. The only thing that makes Maomao get up on all fours and stretch out her back is the memory of last night’s poison experiment and the joy she knows she’ll find in analyzing the effects it’s had on her body.
Maomao blinks. Why is it, exactly, that she got up on all fours to stretch? And why is the bed suddenly so large? She hops down to the floor, body moving in strange new ways on instincts she didn’t know she had. Mirror. Glass. Copper. Something reflective. Anything reflective.
She spots one of the apothecary tools she’s indefinitely borrowing from the quack doctor, a flask set up. A quick leap to the table lets her get right up and close to it, coming face to reflected face with… Maomao. The cat. Maomao has turned into Maomao. She tries to put a hand to her face to feel it, to confirm, but is met with a paw that can’t quite make the motions she’s expecting.
Maomao takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. There has to be an explanation for this. An explanation that isn’t just “I was turned into a cat by the poison and have no way to create an antidote because I have no thumbs”. Maybe it’s as simple as a body swap. Then she’d only have to teach Maomao the cat who is currently off somewhere piloting her human body to create an antidote.
When she thinks about it for more than two seconds, that also sounds like an impossible hurdle to overcome. Maomao lays down in preemptive defeat.
Just as she’s given into despair, there’s a knock at her door quickly followed by it opening without waiting for a response. “Maomao,” Ailan calls as she steps inside, “Lady Gyokuyou wishes to see you for- ah…” She pauses, surveying the area. “Maomao,” she repeats, more questioningly, bending down to peek under tables as if Maomao would be so undignified as to hide under the furniture to avoid her.
“Strange, I didn’t hear her get up…” Ailan casually picks Maomao up, holding her like a kitten. Which is what she is right now, but it’s still embarrassing. “Ah, I suppose you’ll have to do for now, until I can find your irresponsible mother,” Ailan teases, using two fingers to pet Maomao’s head. Maomao growls at the insult, but keeps her claws sheathed. Right now, it’s best for her if she pretends to just be the cat until she can figure out a way to turn herself back.
But Gyokuyou is requesting her very early in the morning. She has a few silly whims, but she wouldn’t be dragging Maomao just as the sun is peaking up over the walls of the pavilion. Maomao loses herself in thought, nestled comfortably against Ailan’s plush bosom. Right now, Gyokuyou is pregnant with her second child. Even though Maomao successfully had the make-up that was previously causing infant death and miscarriages banned, it’s a stressful time. Health wise and politically, as birthing a proper male heir would see her promoted to Empress Dowager. Thinking about how useless she is to Gyokuyou right now is stressing Maomao out. She grumbles, earning a scratch behind the ear from Ailan.
Hopefully, since Maomao can do little to nothing to help at the moment, she’s just fretting rather than seriously ill. Maomao doesn’t trust that quack doctor to take good care of Gyokuyou, even though he’s been learning a bit from watching Maomao work. Maybe it’s just standard morning sickness. Even Guan could manage those symptoms in Maomao’s stead.
They enter Gyokuyou’s waiting room and, luckily, she looks more surprised to see Maomao in Ailan’s arms than distressed that her poison tester isn’t in tow. She demurely puts her fingers to her mouth and chuckles. “I see, you couldn’t find her, then?”
“She wasn’t in her room or with Guan, but I caught this Maomao playing near some breakables on her desk. Apologies, my lady.”
“No, don’t worry. We can have her try these on any time.”
Maomao scans the room and sees a wicker basket filled to the absolute brim with folded, fine clothes. This was just for one of her whims. Relief mixes with annoyance as she glares at the basket.
Gyokuyou holds her arms out and Ailan passes Maomao to her. Ailan bows before leaving the room, presumably either to keep looking for human Maomao or to get back to her usual duties.
There’s worse ways to spend her time as a cat than being stroked and petted in the Precious Consort’s lap. Gyokuyou gently works her fingers along Maomao’s back, easily getting into her muscles. She rubs just beneath both of Maomao’s fuzzy ears. Presses softly onto each pawpad, massaging them and laughing sweetly as Maomao’s claws harmlessly unsheathe.
“You know, you’re being very compliant today. Normally you’d be causing a fuss by now.” Maomao feels her face trying to grimace, though it’s not an expression a cat can actually make. “Stranger still, I seem to remember Yinghua and Lingli taking you off to play outside just before Ailan showed up with you…”
Gyokuyou offers Maomao a smile so knowing it sends a chill down her spine and makes her fur stand up on end. “You practice with strange poisons, Maomao. Perhaps you should be a bit more careful.” How was she found out? This is such a strange reaction to poison, Maomao didn’t even expect it.
“We’ll see to getting you help soon. For now, I’m afraid I’m enjoying this side of you quite a bit. You don’t mind indulging me for a bit longer, do you?”
It’s not like Maomao has much of a choice. She lifts up her paws to let Gyokuyou pet her soft, fuzzy belly, hoping that Gyokuyou won’t decide that she likes Maomao better as a cat.