The Apothecary Diaries (Light Novel): Volume 7

by Natsu Hyuuga

We needed people who know how to improvise.” That explained why the test had taken such an odd form.

“If I may say so, Consort Aylin seemed rather worried about the shrine maiden and her illness. Would that be because the maiden is a check on her political enemies?” En’en said. “You’ve got the general idea,” Lahan replied. Well, that was ambiguous. It was true that there was nothing specifically self-contradictory about what Lahan had said, but nonetheless something nagged at Maomao.

Sazen was pulverizing something, Kokuyou giving him diligent instructions. It was great that they were doing their jobs, but when she got a look at the two of them in the shop, her opinion quickly soured. It was hot, which explained why all the doors and windows were open, but that caused problems of its own: several courtesans grinned as they watched the two men hard at work in these close quarters.

Those ladies are rotten to the core, Maomao thought. There were plenty of women out there with an enthusiasm for male-male love. The Verdigris House didn’t trade in male-male prostitution, so Maomao was sure the women were enjoying this.

there are women who go their entire lives without menarche.” It was unusual, but by no means unheard of. Lahan, however, said, “Yes, but has such a woman ever had a child?” That stopped Maomao cold.

“There was a time when the shrine maiden was feeling indisposed and left the capital of Shaoh in order to recuperate elsewhere. That was about twenty years ago, and she returned from her convalescence only a few years back. Right when Consort Aylin was serving as apprentice shrine maiden.” Apprentice shrine maiden...

If the shrine maiden had indeed given birth to a child, that would give rise to a whole host of questions. “You’re suggesting this child was the White Lady?”

Aylin claimed that Ayla was behind everything, but what if she herself was the one pulling the White Lady’s strings, stirring up trouble in neighboring nations in order to bring down the pale shrine maiden whose position she begrudged? Ensuring that the shrine maiden wouldn’t be in the way when, sooner rather than later, Shaoh had to rely on Li for help?

Let me put it this way: if the White Lady is the shrine maiden’s daughter, then as long as we have her in our custody, we have leverage over the shrine maiden—and we have a check on Ayla, who chased Aylin out of Shaoh.”

“The maiden is coming here.” “She’s what?!” Maomao nearly yelled, startling Lahan so badly that he choked on the bun and had to swig some tea. “What do you mean, coming here? If she’s sick, you can’t make her travel all that way!”

With Empress Gyokuyou now His Majesty’s legal wife and her son next in line for the succession, her family is to be officially granted a name. From Shaoh’s perspective, that would mean a strong clan with direct ties to the Imperial family right on their border. They wouldn’t want to come off looking second-best.”

With his social status being what it was, Jinshi couldn’t personally involve himself in just anything, but Maomao wished he would spare a thought for those he troubled in his stead.

If a consort of a similar rank to Gyokuyou had given birth to a son at the same time she had, there could have been a bloodbath. But it was Gyokuyou who had risen to become Empress because she had given birth to her child before Lihua had produced her own male heir.

The Emperor seemed to be trying to avoid marrying someone who was too closely related to him, for in the past, that was precisely what had weakened the Imperial bloodline and allowed a single disease to kill off its members one after another. Lihua had every right to be Empress, yet her ancestry, over which she had no control, stood in her way.

Maomao was glad to see Yinghua treated her the same way she always had, even if Maomao didn’t dare do anything so foolish as speak to her. The chief lady-in-waiting, Hongniang, was watching them both closely.

Once the women had become accustomed to making medical visits to the consorts in the rear palace, they had finally been called upon to be part of a visit to Empress Gyokuyou herself.

Dr. Kan—that referred to Maomao’s father, whose full name was Kan Luomen.

Maomao thought. If she could have conjured up some engaging anecdote on demand, people might have considered her a better conversationalist, but unfortunately, chitchat was not her strong suit.

“You pluck dumplings out of the water as soon as they’re heated through. They float to the top; that’s how you know they’re done.” The presence of salt in the water would change things. It would make the water heavier, meaning that the dumplings would float before they were fully cooked.

They didn’t become the chef at that rich man’s mansion, but did find work at another household, one that was home to someone who wished to eat decent egg custard. Most fortunately, this young lady happened to be the daughter of someone with whom Young Chef was acquainted.”

Speaking of potential dangers... It had been some time since Maomao had seen Jinshi last, but where did he stand in all of this? He has his own claim to the succession.

Jinshi, however, showed a complete disinterest in being emperor; he had been openly pleased by the birth of the prince and had even hoped to be reduced to the status of a common advisor.

“Lady Gyokuyou had them made for all her ladies-in-waiting when she became Empress. I got one too!” “That’s nice, but I’m not one of her ladies.” “She had an extra one made for you, hoping you might come back. She asked me to give it to you just now. She said it would be a waste to leave it lying around.”

Maomao believed that life working for Empress Gyokuyou would be pleasant, in its own way. But I’m just not fit. Not only in terms of social status; Maomao’s personality would be something of a square peg in the round hole of the Empress’s lifestyle.

He let the tea ripple in the cup. When had it appeared there? He had the sense it had been left when he’d gone to the bathroom a few minutes ago. “Who put this tea here?” he asked the official in the office with him.

Jinshi opened a drawer of his desk and took out an item wrapped in cloth. With measured movements, he unwrapped it to reveal a silver spoon, which he held with the cloth and used to stir the tea. The shining silver promptly turned cloudy. Jinshi was at least grateful his assailant had used a nice, obvious poison.

“How about some nice fruit, Master Jinshi?” His ever-considerate lady-in-waiting, Suiren, brought him some pear slices, each on its own little skewer. “Give,” he said. Perhaps it sounded a mite childish, but this was his milk mother, a woman who had known him since before he’d been weaned.

“Ah, how I wish Maomao would come back!” Suiren said. You and me both, Jinshi thought,

“Oh, if only you would hurry up and take a consort, Master Jinshi, even just one, my life might be a little easier...” Jinshi could only give a dry smile. “Don’t you worry that if I picked the wrong lady, your work would only increase?” “No, indeed. It would make hiring new ladies-in-waiting so much simpler. It’s because they covet the position of your wife that they come after you with such fervor.

When Suiren began speaking of consorts, there was only one person Jinshi thought of. He knew she considered the whole idea nothing but trouble. It might have been one thing had she been the cloistered daughter of some well-to-do family, but for someone who had the means to support herself already and live her own life, being Jinshi’s consort could only be suffocating.

Jinshi had heard people say that if she’d been born a man, Ah-Duo would have been the Emperor’s right hand. “With all possible respect to Empress Gyokuyou, I must say His Majesty was deeply disappointed to realize that the one he truly wanted by his side was in no position to be there.” “What are you getting at?” Jinshi finally said.

The physicians still only rarely let the young women handle patients, but they thought quite highly of En’en’s small, thoughtful touches like that. Complaints about the medical office had allegedly diminished.

The doctors had felt that she could at least be entrusted with preparing simple balms, and if she suppressed her desire to work on more exotic concoctions, it wasn’t so bad. It was the right place for her: she had neither the attitude nor, compared to the other two, the looks to be dealing with patients.

She was trying to sound as innocent as she could, but the physician grabbed her experimental medicine. Still glaring at her, he swiped a finger through it. “This has something in it. Something unusual mixed in.” “I reiterate, sir, whatever do you mean?”

“For your information, Luomen asked us to be especially strict with you.” It would be hard for her to wriggle out of this with someone who knew her father.

Many of the court ladies came from high-ranking families, but their personalities weren’t always as good as their upbringings. It was something of a difficult reality for a genuinely prim and proper young lady.

I just tried to give them fair warning, Maomao thought, but now they wouldn’t get anywhere near her. It was like the Crystal Pavilion all over again. So what had happened? There had been a court lady who’d decided to launch a preemptive strike against what she took to be the naive young medical assistants.

The way she seemed to have a different male dining companion at every meal, it was almost as if she took pride in being a woman of easy virtue. Maomao couldn’t help but notice a rash around the woman’s mouth. “It seems you have a substantial number of partners,” she’d said. “Are you aware of the risks of illness?” She was just making sure.

Finally, Maomao had explained that several sexually transmitted diseases could be communicated at once. “Have you been feeling tired?” she’d asked. “Any swelling or soreness in your private areas? Or bleeding, for that matter?” As Maomao had proceeded with her questioning, the woman had grown paler and paler and finally vacated the scene.

meanwhile Yao’s face had been bright red. En’en must not have known much about sexually transmitted diseases, for she had been taking copious notes.

“Just so you know, I’m not copying you,” Yao said. I didn’t say you were, Maomao thought. In its own way, her behavior was sort of charming, and ever since she’d had that realization, Maomao had started to develop an affection for the other court lady. She was an awful lot easier to deal with than a sycophant who kept her true intentions hidden.

“Lady Yao, you need your food,” En’en said. “I might have some appetite for a snack,” Yao replied, still looking a little miffed. En’en thought about it for a second, then produced a cloth packet she unwrapped to reveal a bamboo cylinder—a canteen. The cafeteria servings were never enough for Yao’s voracious appetite, and En’en was always prepared with a supplement.

“It’s Lady Yao’s favorite,” En’en said. She accompanied the remark with a finger to her lips, correctly guessing that Maomao knew what the dessert was. Here I thought she was looking out for Yao! It was cruel, what she was doing. Was this, too, in the interest of helping Yao grow? “Mmm! It’s a little warm, but it’s still good,” said Yao, digging into her jiggling snack with gusto. The name of the dish? Hasma. The nature of the ingredients? Frogs’ reproductive organs.

En’en was watching just as closely as Maomao, and although her face remained impassive, there was something hidden behind that deliberately blank expression. Her eyes sparkled like she’d spotted a baby squirrel and was enjoying the sight.

Dr. Liu did nothing but get angry at her, yet he didn’t neglect to provide for candy for them. He hadn’t failed to notice Yao taking in the street stalls.

Behind her, En’en’s eyes were shining, as if to say Isn’t my mistress the cutest?

There were plenty of people out there who were content to lord it over others simply because they happened to have been born well. At least Yao wasn’t like that. Maomao suspected it was the same facet of her personality that had driven her to apply to become a medical assistant when she took the court ladies’ exam.

Her hair and eyes were dark, but her skin was fairer and ruddier than their own. She had a lovely face, with perfectly positioned eyes and pronounced eyebrows. Her skin reminds me of Empress Gyokuyou’s. She might be of mixed parentage, then, but Maomao could see why En’en had assumed she was foreign-born: there were markings around her eyes. That was extremely unusual in Li, since here tattoos were normally imposed on criminals.

This wasn’t the mark of any crime, however. It looked more like a ward or charm. A red, vine-like pattern.

Early on, she’d taken En’en to be Yao’s faithful servant, but over time she had come to see it was more complex than that. Yes, Yao was very important to En’en, and yes, En’en served her impeccably, but... There’s something a little...twisted about it. Such was Maomao’s conclusion.