Archive of Our Own

the apothecary stretches her aching back, feeling her spine cracking like crispy duck skin. small bliss. her body at twenty six is certainly not as agile and durable as when she was seventeen, plus, she was one of the least actively exercising person ever. so, one could say that she is healthy, just quite far from being fit. as long as she keeps a balanced diet and rest well enough, her health remains safely managed.

maomao turns to the front of the cart, mentally rehearsing the words she's going to say in a different tongue than the one she's spoken with forever. "sir, how far along are we? from, uh, mother city?"

the kind-faced, yet mostly reserved farmer, who had given maomao this ride two hours ago, spared her a quick sideways look. one of his bushy brows kinked in what maomao immediately recognised as confusion, and she realised she must have said something incorrectly. she braced for the mocking that should follow afterwards, yet it never came.

"capital." the farmer said in her language, and maomao understood that it was a small correction. "in another half hour, we should be there."

maomao nodded. half hour, she understood that.

two hours before she had acquired the kind farmer's informal service, maomao had just checked out of an inn from the heart of the port city of this land. this foreign nation, li's most auspicious trade partner on the southeastern front, is known by the people of li as visha-ya. in it's native tongue, however, it's people calls it wijaya. maomao landed in this land just about five days ago, sailing from the southern-most port to a completely different nation across the vast ocean.

maomao found the city rather grand, for a port city. the berthing bays were separated rather effectively depending on the ships' usages—trades, travels, and commercials. the ship maomao had sailed on happened to be a large trade vessel, carrying precious cargo to distribute here and loaded back in with goods to be imported back to li, and therefore had berthed right into the trader's disctrict.

maomao couldn't really fathom that she was leagues away from the people she knew, the places she had remembered better than the back of her hand, and the sound of the language she was born to and raised with—not at least until the third night she was there at the inn. it surprised her when most people in the port city understands and spoke the language of li—which of course, made her assimilation less of an impossible process. the inn keeper's daughter had even taught her simple and useful phrases for daily usage, which maomao had returned in a hefty tip as token of her gratitude.

"little miss!" the farmer calls, louder than maomao expected from this relatively quiet man. he pointed at a small house ahead, where a faint pillar of smoke rose from."there is a [] ahead, would you [] if i get us some []?"

maomao tilts her head, not quite understanding what he said. her brows dipped to a furrow, racking her mind to remember what those words the farmer meant. one of them sounded like it should mean 'food', but maomao wasn't too sure if that was what the farmer is saying.

"tavern. lunch, alright?"

perhaps noticing her lack of response, the farmer proceeds to speak in li, though it was evident the words were clumsy. he faced her at the back with a sheepish look, most definitely hoping that his attempt to communicate with her had worked. again, maomao is grateful for his accomodation.

"yes, lunch is alright."

the farmer nods, and maomao returned to her musings. they eventually stopped at the tavern, where maomao's nose was washed with wafts of grilled foods, fragrant aromatics, and bold blends of spices. the tavern was less spacious than the ones at the port city, seemingly revamped from the ruins of a reddish-brown mudstone house, and wooden logs were locked into the newer parts of the building. it's rather unique, maomao thinks.

maomao chose to stay in the cart, whilst the farmer had hopped off earlier to purchase some food. she noted the lively atmosphere of the tavern—men and women who seemed to come from different occupations mingled and shared meals together. some had darker skin than the others, and maomao presumed they toiled under the sun longer. some has scars littered where their skins show—perhaps they worked with sharp tools or tough environment.

"little miss, here."

maomao accepts the pouch handed by the farmer. "thank you."

he points at the leaf wrapped food inside the pouch. "be careful opening it. some might spill."

the farmer had already returned to the tavern before maomao could ask further. deciding learning by doing is the best process, she chose to take matters to her own hand. that is, preventing said spillage. maomao sniffed the leaf wrapper, welcoming the fragrance of banana leaves. she understood that it's the custom of this nation to wrap or serve foods and medicine in various plant parts, which isn't unlike some places back home.

by the time the farmer returned to continue their paused journey, maomao had finished the simple meal of vegetable stew, grilled fish, and something similar to rice. the farmer made quick checks if all was well in his cart—which included maomao—and departed from the tavern. the horse neighed, and it was wheels up soon enough.

"how was your lunch, little miss?" the farmer makes small talk, like any normal middle aged man would.

"the food was good, sir. thank you for your care."

the farmer smiled, seemingly satisfied that his passenger was taken care of. "you are welcome! anyhow, we will arrive soon, miss."

finally, maomao thinks. she nodded in response. "how much further?"

"fifteen minutes, should the road stay clear."

when the scenery began to change from open fields to buildings made of stone and metal, maomao had to admit—visha-ya's capital is beyond remarks. the architecture of the buildings could rival the imperial palace, and she's quite sure those were not royal courts or special facilities. gold, copper, and brass decorates almost every tips of the roofs.

master jinshi and master gaoshun did mention that the nation was known for metalworks and masonry.

maomao part ways with the farmer at the grand market, where she was to continue her journey. behind her, the stalls of this section of the grand market held the very thing she came here for:

poison and medicine.

oh, the joy! maomao was almost lost in bliss at the thought of new and foreign herbs she could study! which poison is the tingliest? what part of the toxin could be used as remedies? how are they mixed? the possibilities are vast and numerous, and maomao could not wait further to indulge in this new science. she feels her entire body vibrating in pure excitement.

"you are still odd as ever."

maomao jumped when a voice spoke in li behind her, knowing that exact same flat-toned voice belonging to a certain tall and ambiguously attractive woman.

"suirei."

suirei stood there with her arms crossed, and an expression of her usual indifference. despite that, the glint in her eyes shine of amusement. that look in suirei's eyes irked maomao enough that she glares back at her in displeasure. suirei rolled her eyes.

"don't look so surprised. we're supposed to meet."

"yeah, yeah. i know." maomao huffed, fixing her satchel. she nods at suirei as she asks, "are we going to get anything here, or are we just going to stand here the whole day?"

suirei led maomao towards the market's alley, though not before smacking the top of her head. suirei points at certain stalls, explaining the goods they sell. some piqued her interests for the bizarre ingredients, some were noted to sell common herbs, some were definitely on her must buy list for the poisonous goods she would like to test on.

"i'm concerned with how much you bought today." suirei noted with a tone dripping in judgement at the bags—yes, bags—maomao are struggling to carry.

maomao glared at her. "would be a lot nicer if someone could help bringing these."

"perhaps, but i only bought these fungus and dried roots," suirei shows the small paper bag in her arms, "so, it wouldn't be fair to share the load."

"i will lace your food with emetic agent later." maomao borderline growled, growing more annoyed at her travel partner.

suirei sneers at her. "like i'll eat your cooking."

maomao and suirei eventually arrived at a relatively modest lodging just about a few roads away from the grand market. the room they shared was spacious, with a partition separating suirei's already occupied section, and maomao's still empty side. maomao stores the goods she bought from the market at the cabinets, taking out her mortar and pestle from her satchel to keep alongside.

"the lodge offers breakfast starting from five, ends at ten. dinner order is at three, delivery to our room is at six. if you don't want to eat in, let me know, so i can void your share from the tab." suirei explains methodically, like setting rules to a military barrack.

"got it. how about baths and lavatory?" maomao asks for the two crucial facilties.

suirei points her right thumb back. "communal bathing room is there." then, it's her left pointer. "lavatories are at the end of the hall."

"thanks."

the rest of the day was spent with maomao resting, studying and taking notes of visha-yan traditional poison and medicine, and reading books. suirei gave her books in li and visha-yan for her to learn and get used to the language. the taller woman was also occupied by further learning of the language, to understand the medicines better.

maomao and suirei were sent as scholars of the imperial court to visha-ya to study and expand the knowledge of foreign medicine and poison. this was recommended by the moon prince and endorsed by the emperor himself, after a huge case of unknown poison had made it past the court's gates. maomao, having solved the mystery and finding the poison came all the way from visha-ya, was more than eager to go when master jinshi gave this proposition. she was told that suirei had been sent months ahead of her, along with a visha-yan guide who speaks fluent li to aid her travel.

she could proudly say that she is following her old man's path by studying her crafts overseas, enriching her neverending thirst for poison science.

just after she went to bathe in the evening, maomao informed suirei that she would head out for a walk to the night market. suirei hums in acknowledgement, eyes not prying away from the book in her hands. outside of the lodge, colourful lanterns illuminate the streets, bustling with liveliness of the night. she had heard that it is nearing to a summer solstice celebration, known for the festivities of midsummer. the people of visha-ya honors the abundance of the sun, summer's harvests, and spirit of the youth.

maomao walks past the plaza, the bars and taverns, the food stalls, the various crafts stores along the streets. she observed the people, mostly those in their twenties and early thirties, go about their night. the kids and the teens sharing laughter amongst each other, rowdy men fighting outside a few bars she had passed, the women in groups talking about things maomao didn't understand whilst sharing wine made of palm sap.

in the night market, jewelries were like stars in a clear night's sky, maomao thinks.

just as the people of visha-ya are known for metalworks and stonemason, finest jewelries made of precious stones and noble metals were one of the staple crafts of the nation. unlike people of li, visha-yans don't necessarily wear hairpins, instead, those who can afford them were often seen with earpieces and little floral crowns as accessories. they also wear arm bangles with different metal types to note class; golds were for nobles and those wealthy enough to afford it, silvers for commoners, brass or silver-coated steel for the working men.

with that knowledge in maomao's mind, it's almost odd to find a merchant who sells assorted jewelries—including hairpins similar to those from li. maomao's eyes scan the rows of pendants, bracelets, brooches—and was soon captivated by the different styles displayed. this merchant must've either imported these, traded with travelers, or is a place for people to pawn their valuables.

"evening! looking for something?"

oh, crap. maomao didn't mean to linger for too long for the seller to notice her presence.

"um, i'm just looking." maomao replies in clumsy visha-yan, preparing to leave the merchant.

the merchant, a woman in her late thirties, shows a face of recognition. then, unexpectedly, she says, "oh! you're from li, aren't you?" in fluent li.

which, honestly, surprised maomao. "you… speak li?"

"sure, i do!" the woman beams, and maomao knows this is where it's much too late for her to withdraw from this conversation. sure enough, the woman motions at her to come into her tent, "come, girl! let me offer you tea. it has been a while since i have a customer from li!"

the woman had droned on about her youth spent in southern li, where she learned trade of jewelry for almost fiften years of her life. maomao was partially paying attention, sipping on the tea offered. she wondered if there's a way to politely excuse herself from this woman—while she is lovely, maomao isn't really in the mood for company at the moment.

"speaking of, i once traded with a li girl like you, some years ago." the woman recounted, which piqued maomao's interest a little. she rummaged through a chest to fish out an elaborate jewelry, probably a headpiece, maomao deduced. it was silver, with a considerable sized stone in deep red. not unlike a garnet, maomao thinks. "girl traded this, for a gold and jade cicada brooch. this headpiece should have covered for a pair of the brooch, but she only took one instead."

"cicada brooch?" maomao repeated. that's rather unusual for visha-ya. "in gold and jade, you say?"

"yes! oh, here. let me show you."

the woman held the cicada brooch in her fingers, and there it was. gold and jade, just like she described. it's unique, she hadn't seen any local visha-yan wearing anything in jade, let alone something insect shaped. but, something else had been bothering her.

where had she seen that headpiece before?

"was this from li? the brooch, i mean." maomao asks, just to confirm her theory.

the woman nodded. "yes, i obtained the pair from a trader. he claimed it came from the imperial palace, though i seriously doubt that. but, this?" she points at the headpiece. "i know this must have come from somewhere noble. i'd thought perhaps a courtesan, but consorts might have been more suitable."

maomao hums, the gears in her brain spinning rapidly. imperial palace, consorts… low ranking ones? that's unlikely. the woman was right; this headpiece is elaborate, expensive, and loud. it doesn't attract attention to the wearer—it commands. this is something a high ranking consort—hell, might as well an empress—would wear.

was there ever a consort in the rear palace who wore these kinds of headpiece?

"such a peculiar girl, too. we shared tea as well, and she was such a character." the woman reminisce a particular memory seemingly out of the blue. "told me she was a nomad from the eastern land. clever, too. talked a lot about fascinating insects she found on the roadside of the country, telling me about how this insect's parts are poisonous, how that insect can be used as medicine."

insects, poisons, and medicine?

well, sure. maomao does use various insects in her medicine every now and then, which isn't uncommon practice amongst apothecaries and physicians. but, surely, only those who studied about insects would have vast knowledge of them? was this girl a scholar, then? that's a rather odd field to be a scholar in, especially for a girl.

"what's she like? the girl."

"how she looked like?" the woman asks, which maomao nodded to. she puts a finger on her chin, seeming to go through her memories. "well, she's definitely li, since she was fair skinned. the kind that reminds you of alabaster. still young, probably in her twenties. her eyes are kind and soft, but looking at her eyes, you just know she had gone through years of tragedy. got long hair that waves and curls."

hmm.

the woman snapped her fingers, as if recalling something important.

"very ample bosoms. very, very ample. for her age."

...right. maomao doesnt know what to say to that piece of information, honestly. sure, she'd seen multiple pairs of supple breasts from various women all her life, but she couldn't be sure if it's ethical to remember someone from their breasts. does she admire those from women? yes. but, does she lack decorum and act inappropriately around them? no.

(well. sometimes. guilty of shamelessly staring.)

"must've been such a character to you, huh?" maomao supplies politely.

"an interesting one, i tell you."

maomao hums curtly, standing up from where she was sat. "ma'am, thank you for having me in your tent, although i hadn't purchased anything. your hospitality was a delight."

the woman waves her hand dismissively. "my dear, don't you worry. not at all!"

maomao wanted to go, but something in her mind told her to stay longer, and she debates internally. there are two choices in her head; leave right away, or buy something in exchange for an answer to an important question. should she?

the logical part of her brain told her she should go.

the curiousity wouldn't stop bothering her to stay.

maomao offers six gold visha-yan coins.

"might i buy the cicada brooch, for a question?"

"o-oh? sure, dear." the woman takes the brooch from the jewelry chest. she hands it to maomao. "here."

"thank you."

"and, your question?"

maomao takes a deep breath. "did she ever give you her name?"

"name? hmmm…" the woman blinked rapidly, uncertain with the question. "what was it…? tamo…? tomama? ta… oh! tamamo! her name was tamamo."

tamamo. interesting name.

tamamo. tama, jade and mo, seaweed?

"i see..."

"yes, tamamo. dark purple hair and goldish eyes. like amberstone, if you've ever seen one."

huh, reminds her of—

"ah, she also traded me this, last year!" the merchant fished out a golden hairpin from her pocket, showing it to maomao. "she said this was the emblem of the family she once served in. i could see from the enamel working, this was clearly from a noble family. possibly close to the imperial court, too!"

maomao spared a fleeting glance at the pin in the midst of her musing, until her eyes caught the purple enamel of the pin. the air catches in her throat.

wait… that's…?

maomao's mind was instantly the quietest it's ever been. she knows that hairpin—of all people, she would recognise that anywhere in the world.

but, that's not possible…

she snatched the hairpin from the merchant's hand, uncaring that the woman was shocked by the sudden shift of maomao's impolite gesture. she examines the emblem, the purple enamel that still shines as if it's been unused, the gold that's a little dulled on the pointier tip. no, that's not possible.

how could this be here, of all places?

how is this hairpin the exact same as the one she has been keeping in her collar for eight years?

how is shisui's hairpin here?

the woman must have caught onto maomao's expression. she must've looked a mess, rabid even, since the woman warily asks, "dear? are you… alright?"

"wh– was this the only hairpin she traded?" maomao suddenly asked in a rush. "was there another?"

"another? no, no. this was the only hairpin she sold."

"are you sure? did she not have a silver hairpin with her when she sold this?"

the merchant stammers, taken aback by maomao. "my dear, i'm sorry, she only ever came to my shop to trade that silver headpiece and this hairpin. there was no silver hairpin at all."

no silver hairpin… none of this made sense!

is she being deluded? was she looking somewhere she wasn't supposed to be looking? could she be missing the important notes?

or maybe, she just need to stop chasing ghosts.

maomao's mental gymnastics came to a screeching halt—like she had been physically slapped. then, she realised, there she went again, running around in circles. she was supposed to be done with this irrational nonsense. she was supposed to move forward when she planted those snowdrops.

shisui is gone, and maomao needs to let her go.

"dear?" the woman's voice calls her again, concern marring her face.

"i'm… so sorry. i was impolite and rude." maomao returns the hairpin. with a bow, she adds, "please, forgive my careless behaviour. it wasn't my intention to insult or worry you."

the merchant gives her a look—sympathetic. "nevermind that, dear. tell me, did this belonged to someone important to you? a sister? friend? lover?"

maomao hesitated. what was shisui to her? wasn't she just a girl that befriended her at the rear palace for less than a year? she had never been asked by anyone else who shisui was to her. master jinshi already knew that she was important to maomao. suirei knew that her half sister was the girl they both bereaved for seven years.

and, maomao was never one to let herself ask why there was a shisui-shaped hole in her heart.

so, she answers the merchant, "she was a friend."

the merchant seemed to understand that maomao doesn't know the answer as well. she offers the hairpin and asks, "would you like to have this?"

would she? no, she shouldn't. this is not why she and suirei came here for. she didn't sail all the way across the ocean to a foreign land just to chase ghosts.

maomao shook her head. "no, ma'am. keep it."

maomao excused herself from the merchant's tent. she was already leaving when the merchant yells:

"you might find her during the festival!"

maomao doesn't hope on it.

when she returned to the lodge's room, suirei had already changed to her sleepwear, and there was only one lantern left still on. the look on her face changed the moment her eyes met with maomao's.

"you found something." suirei points out, already knowing half of the puzzle. she probably just didn't know the other pieces yet.

maomao places the cicada brooch, and the silver headpiece with the garnet centre on the table for suirei to see. she watches as suirei examines the brooch, still figuring out it's relevance. and then, her eyes widen upon the silver headpiece. her scarred fingers picked up the jewelry shakily—like she's scared of what might happen if she breaks it.

"where did you get this?" suirei carefully asked. the fear in her voice only further confirmed maomao's theory earlier at the merchant's store.

"jewelry trader in the night market. a girl traded it with the owner some years ago."

"this… this was loulan's."

maomao nodded. "i know."

suirei croaked, "h-how…?"

"i don't know. it's hard to tell."

"but, that could mean—"

maomao raised her hand before suirei could finish. "that could mean anything. or, nothing. conjectures can misdirect us, and i'd rather we not lose our heads. right now, we don't have concrete proof."

suirei points at the headpiece. "this is proof."

"that is variable. a suggestion, at best."

maomao wished suirei would drop it and stop entertaining the dangerous idea. she wants to be done with it entirely, and focus on the task at hand. study. research. go home, and live life normally. she doesn't want to unearth something she had already tried to make peace with last year.

but, suirei is, afterall, her mirror. there's no deflecting with her; only reflections.

"you're in denial."

maomao sighed. something ticked in her mind. "i'm not."

suirei steps towards her, challenging. "yes, you are."

"no, i'm not. let it go, suirei."

it doesn't land right on suirei, it seems.

"'let it go'?" suirei scoffs, bitter and cold. "you do not have the right to tell me to let my little sister go when you found evidence of the possibility that she is alive. that would be hypocritical of you for mourning her unknown fate for seven years, only to deny her when there's a chance that she might still be alive."

"suirei, a headpiece she used to wear in a foreign land doesn't mean anything." maomao counters realistically. she sighed in frustration. "anyone could have brought it here. chances are, it's not her."

"if that's what you believed, then you're lying to yourself. you know shisui's death was never confirmed because they never found loulan's body under the snow. and i know, the seller told you who sold it. it has to be her."

"yes, she did tell me who sold it to her, actually. she said it was a girl named tamamo. now, if i recall, your half sister was named loulan, and introduced herself to me as shisui." maomao's voice was dripping in venomous cynicism, intending to hurt. "and you should remember, loulan was shot to the chest and fell from a twenty metre wall of stone. while shisui was a runaway palace maid that had been gone for years. so, who exactly are we trying to find here, suirei?"

suirei's eyes had darken, and maomao knows her words has landed the way they were intended. because, before she turned around to shut out the partition between their spaces, suirei spits out, "you really are a coward."

maomao turns to her bed, sparing a final glance at the headpiece laid on the table. she blows off the candle in the last lantern, before burying her face into the bed's cushions. suirei's words kept ringing in her ears loudly, drowning her mind.

perhaps, she is a coward, and shisui would have hated maomao for giving up on her like this.

that's okay, because shisui is dead anyway. right?