The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 11

A high wall, however, appeared in front of Maomao. Thoom. Jinshi had risen from his seat and was standing smack in front of her.

“Yes, sir?” she asked. Jinshi continued to look less than pleased.

“It has come to my attention that this man with whom you claim not to be especially close recently proposed marriage to you.”

At least he was to the point.

I’m given to understand that it was a joke, sir.”

“Does one say such things in jest?”

“Perhaps it was a social nicety, like the hair stick Master Lihaku gave me at the garden party.” She recalled Jinshi had been likewise petulant on that occasion. Maomao, for her part, had faith that there would be no problem if she was upfront and honest.

Jinshi fell silent. He looked like he very, very much wanted to say something, but—despite all appearances to the contrary—he was a busy man with much to do.

Then why were you so intent on going with him specifically to that village?”

“Because I know one carriage is cheaper than two. Besides, I thought it might be useful if we could share information with each other.”

“Hrm.” Maomao’s reasoning didn’t seem to satisfy Jinshi.

“Can I go back now? I answered the summons because I assumed you wanted to know about the surgery, but considering the hour, maybe all this could wait till tomorrow?” She’d intended to check Jinshi’s injury as well, but it looked like the thing to do was get out of here. The matter of Gyoku-ou’s granddaughter could wait too.

A high wall, however, appeared in front of Maomao. Thoom. Jinshi had risen from his seat and was standing smack in front of her.

“Yes, sir?” she asked. Jinshi continued to look less than pleased.

“It has come to my attention that this man with whom you claim not to be especially close recently proposed marriage to you.”

At least he was to the point.

Chue and Gaoshun were with him, and from the moment Maomao saw the grin on Chue’s face and the way Gaoshun was pressing a hand to his forehead, she had a bad feeling about this.

Jinshi did not look like he was in a very good mood.

“Chue told me everything,” he said. “I gather you enjoyed yourself at the farming village?”

Huh! Haven’t seen him in this kind of mood for a while, Maomao thought. She wasn’t very happy with Chue for squealing on her.

“You and this man Rikuson, it sounds like you’re awfully close,” Jinshi continued. Pretty much what she’d expected.

“I’m not sure I’d say that, sir,” Maomao replied.

“Oh? Is that so?”

Yes? Yes. Yes, it’s so. Maomao glared at him. Chue stuck her tongue out and playfully bopped herself on the forehead. Gaoshun looked at his daughter-in-law as if lost for words.

All right. I’m angry. What did you say to him? Yes, Maomao understood that Chue had only been doing her job. But knowing that only took her so far

It’s great that he’s actually doing his job and all, but won’t begging everyone in sight for help sort of...take away from his gravitas?”

Maomao’s question provoked a sigh from Suiren—she seemed to agree that those who lived “above the clouds” shouldn’t be quite so quick to send letters to those who lived below them.

“Do you suppose that’s the sort of thing that would bother the Moon Prince?”

“No... No, I don’t.”

This was a man who had spent six years pretending to be a eunuch, a position that had given him a thorough familiarity with the slings and arrows of public opinion. He was probably less worried than anyone here about the rather coarse treatment he was receiving in the western capital.

“That’s why we need you to say something to him, Maomao!” Suiren said. “But...”

“But what?”

“Well... Good luck.” Suiren patted Maomao on the shoulder. For some reason, she was smiling.

Maomao soon discovered why, for

He should have made himself more visible. Like he was when he was a eunuch. Since returning to his position as Imperial younger brother, Jinshi had hardly used his most potent weapon: his looks.

Maybe he’s holding back so he doesn’t get flooded with suitors. Without the buffer of being a “eunuch,” and now with the added inducement of the power of being the Emperor’s younger brother, there would be no shortage of women who wished to become his queen.

Suitors, huh...

Maomao recalled Rikuson’s little joke. She could only assume Chue had reported it to Jinshi along with everything else. What a lot of trouble.

“Miss Chue, did you report everything?” Maomao asked. She deliberately chose not to say what she was thinking of—how Rikuson had asked, back in the village, if he might seek her hand in marriage.

“I’m not sure what report you mean, but don’t worry. It’s all kept top secret from our honored strategist,” Chue said.

During the Shi clan rebellion, maybe, but that’s about the only time I can think of.

On that occasion, Jinshi had wielded his status openly. Maomao was in no position to criticize him—she had been one reason he had done what he did—but in any case, that was the moment His Majesty’s younger brother had been most visible to the public, quashing a rebellion.

Maomao knew that after that, Jinshi had begun to fulfill the duties of his station in life. He’d been as busy as he’d been during his time as a “eunuch”—maybe even busier—but much of his work was things that had been foisted upon him. As far as projects he chose to pursue of his own volition...

The preparations to counter the swarm are about the only thing I can think of.

“Only the most incompetent of leaders would find that an option, I’m afraid.”

“If you let someone else steal credit for everything you do, you don’t look like much of a leader anyway.”

“That doesn’t bother me. Those who know will know, and that’s enough.” He squeezed her hand tighter.

Behind each of the seated siblings was another chair, in which sat an aide or attendant. Behind Gyoku-ou alone there were two chairs—his confidant was in one of them, and, for some reason, Rikuson was in the other.

What are you doing?” she asked.

“I told you. Charging.”

“Charging.”