nobody's son, nobody's daughter - Read on MistNovel

There�s an odd girl at the back of the throng.

To the casual eye, she looks completely average. She wears the same soft cream and dull yellow uniform of the other girls around her. She is small and slight, and her cheeks are dotted with freckles. Among the other palace girls surrounding her, she blends in perfectly. She could be any girl from any far-flung village of Li.

The other girls around her, though, fidget. They glance nervously around the grand office and wonder aloud why they�ve been summoned. The braver ones gawk openly at the twisting dragons carved into the wooden pillars. Others look nervously over the desk in the center of the room, eyeing the brush and expensive paper stacked atop it. Others yet point at the vase by the desk holding a long, yet-blooming bough of rhododendron.

The girl in the back, though�she does not gawk or gape or crane her head. Her back is straight as an arrow, and she faces forward, unmoving. Still as a statue.

But her eyes�

they

are what catch his attention.

They

are what draw him in.

In her eyes, there is no wide curiosity, no glazed shine of fear. They are dark as the night sky, but something behind them glints---ticking, analytical, and in constant motion.

He watches as her eyes dart first to those same dragons, following their twists up, up, into the grand, high ceiling. They run over the polished wood of his desk and the papers stacked atop it. When her eyes find the bough of rhododendron, blushing pink in the afternoon sunlight, her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. He wouldn�t have noticed if he was not already staring in rapt attention.

All eyes fall to him as he strolls out from behind the screen, pompous flare and masked sparkle at full blast. Most of the crowd lights up in curiosity and wonder. A few of the boldest girls frantically tap their friends� shoulders, lean in, whisper a false name in their ear.

�I�m sorry to gather you all here on short notice,� he says, voice airy and crisp as a summer�s breeze. Most of the girls are blushing already, clinging to every word�but that girl, in the back, looks less than impressed.

Interesting.

Even when he turns his gaze to the paper and brush in front of him, he can feel that pull of her gaze above all the others, tracing his movements. It follows the brush in his fingers from the inkstone to the paper before him as he dashes a few quick strokes, and her eyes move to his hand as he holds it aloft.

She freezes, her eyes widen, and the trap springs.

Got you

, Jinshi thinks.

A few days after he moves the girl into the Jade Pavilion, Jinshi receives a gift of several

baozi

, freshly steamed, from a middle-ranking officer Jinshi sometimes sees in the training grounds. The buns are delivered in a fine, lacquered box by a bemused, flustered laundry girl knocking on his office door.

�A-and he sent this, too,� the servant stammers, producing a single crimson rose from the folds of her robes.

Are roses even in season this late in the year?

Jinshi thinks to himself, but he accepts it with his best smile. �I�ll see to it that these gifts are taken care of,� he purrs. �Thank you for the delivery.�

�O-of course, you too sir thankyou

okaybye,

� the girl stutters, and runs off.

Once he�s inside his office, Jinshi scowls and drops the box on his desk with an unceremonious thud next to a pile of paperwork. The noise catches Gaoshun�s attention, who looks up from his own work.

�Another gift, sir?�

�Another gift,� Jinshi confirms, slumping in his chair. He tosses the rose next to the box, too, and a few petals fall off and scatter at the impact. �Care to make a bet that this one�s been tampered with, too?�

�I wouldn�t bet against it.�

�You�d think Officer Zhou would have better things to do than this.� Jinshi shuts his eyes against the headache building in his temples. Three gifts this month already, and the moon hasn�t even begun to wane yet. �Especially given the poisoning incident in the village happened to men under his command.�

�You�d hope,� Gaoshun sighs.

Eyes still closed, Jinshi blindly reaches for his desk and fumbles around until his hand finds the stack of paperwork he still needs to look through today. He opens his eyes to a proposal for raising the legal drinking age to twenty.

Better not let that one pass,

he thinks to himself�a drink sounds nice right about now, and if he had to wait another two years before he was allowed to touch the stuff...well, he doesn�t want to think about it.

He reaches for the next paper. It�s a letter of some kind. Jinshi opens the envelope and sees exactly three key words��imperial brother�, �eligible daughter�, and �potential consort�---before he makes a noise of disgust and rips the letter up.

�You know you can�t keep avoiding that,� Gaoshun chides.

�I�ve gotten this far, haven�t I?� Jinshi protests, sweeping the scraps of paper aside.

�The court won�t wait forever.�

�And most of the court doesn�t even know I�m here. Officially, I�m holed up in some dark room of the palace, miserably wiling my days away in solitude.�

�Lord Shishou knows,� Gaoshun reminds him, nodding to the paper scraps in front of him. �And I doubt he�ll let up on the marriage inquiries anytime soon.�

Absolutely horrible, Jinshi thinks to himself with a pout.

The stack of paperwork on his desk looms larger than ever, and he cannot bring himself to take another paper from it. Who knows what horrors might be on the next one? Jinshi eyes the lacquered box of

baozi

on his desk with suspicion. It smells heavenly, too, which is the worst part. Who knows what medicinal horrors it may contain, and yet it�s so appetizing.

Suddenly, Jinshi gets an idea.

�Where are you going, sir?� Gaoshun asks once Jinshi is already halfway across the room, the box tucked under one arm.

�I think it�s time I stretched my legs,� Jinshi replies. �And the Jade Pavilion needs a visit, don�t you think?�

He has to see how that strange girl is settling in, after all.

The ladies-in-waiting of the Jade Pavilion watch from behind the curtain with bated breath. At his request and Gyokuyou�s nod of consent, Hongniang scurries off.

The girl enters a few minutes later, head bowed.

�You called for me?� she asks from behind her sleeves.

�Yes�or rather, he did,� Lady Gyokuyou replies, gesturing to Jinshi.

Jinshi puts on his best, sparkliest smile. �I have a request for you,� he purrs.

With most people, the prospect of a �request��a personal request, a chance to interact directly with the beautiful eunuch of the rear palace�is an exciting prospect. Most trip over themselves at the chance, or blush, or fluster.

The girl does none of these things. Instead, her eyes narrow behind her sleeves, and when she rises from her bow, her face is curled into an open, obvious grimace.

Jinshi�s eyes narrow as well. What the hell? Aren�t people supposed to like him better with the sparkle? Is there something on his face?Just as a test, Jinshi flashes a smile towards the three ladies-in-waiting watching from the sidelines. Ailan squeals, Guiyuan hides her eyes, and Yinghua swoons. Yep, still got it.

Something must be wrong with this one, then.

�What request do you have of me, sir?� The girl asks, completely unfazed and looking a little�is that disgust, on her face? No, there�s definitely something wrong with her.

�I received these from one of the military officers in the outer palace,� Jinshi explains, placing the box of

baozi

on the table. �Would you be able to taste them for me?�

Still eyeing him with suspicion (seriously, is there something wrong with his face today?), the girl steps forward rather like a cautious, feral cat. She kneels at the table, takes one of the buns, and pulls it apart. Steam rises from the filling, and she gives it a cautious sniff.

�This contains an aphrodisiac,� she declares immediately.

Jinshi cocks an eyebrow. �You can tell without eating it?�

Seemingly pretending that she did not hear him, the girl dusts herself off and stands. �It won�t harm you,� she assures. �Take them home and enjoy them.�

Jinshi chuckles bitterly. �I doubt I could, knowing who gave them to me.�

�Indeed,� the girl replies. She sounds almost bored. �I think you might have a visitor this evening.�

Jinshi grimaces. He suspects as much as well.

The girl turns to leave, with that same disinterested look in her eyes, and suddenly Jinshi cannot bear to see her go.

�One more thing,� he says, before she dismisses herself. The girl grimaces but turns back towards him.

�How could I be of assistance, sir?� She asks, though she sounds less than enthused.

Who are you

? He wants to ask.

How did you know it was an aphrodisiac just by the smell?

That knowledge could be useful to him, and he�s more than a little jealous it comes to her so easily.

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, �A military battalion sent to quash barbarians outside the capital were poisoned.� Out of the corner of his eye, Gyokuyou sits up a little straighter, eagerly awaiting the news from outside.

�Poisoned?� The girl repeats. The glint in her eyes is suddenly brighter. �Intentionally?�

�We suspect as much,� Jinshi replies, and begins to explain.

Miraculously, the girl has answers for that, too---though she plucks a flower from the rhododendron bough in Gyokuyou�s rooms and does not inform them it�s poison until after she has chewed and swallowed it.

It cannot be denied: Gyokuyou�s new poison tester is an odd one.

�Just who are you?� Jinshi wonders aloud, hours later. In his hands are the papers detailing the girl�s records. According to them, she came to the palace last winter. Assigned to the laundry division. Her contacts list three men, presumably her brothers�though, since commoners have no last names, there is no easy way for him to confirm that.

�Don�t you think you should give it a rest, sir?� Gaoshun asks, eyeing the stack of papers still piled high on his desk.

�She could be useful,� Jinshi protests, flipping through the records. She mentioned being an apothecary, he remembers, though it�s not as if previous occupations are listed on these records. �She�s more versed in poisons than I expected.�

�And she�s already solved the issue of Gyokuyou�s vulnerability,� Gaoshun replies.

�I�m half-tempted to transfer her over to me instead, if she can tell what food�s been tampered with that easily.� Jinshi reaches for his teacup, still scanning over her records. There�s pitifully little information on her.

Jinshi runs through what he already knows about her. Apothecary, she said. Pleasure district. She made an aphrodisiac upon his request like it was nothing�

And she cringed, when he snuck up behind her and ran his hands through her hair and purred his thanks in her ear for the favor.

Weird.

The medicine she made for him��chocolate�, she called it�still sits untouched in the pocket of his robes. Another test passed. Her reaction to the opportunity is also worth making a note of. His normal methods don�t work, but the bribe of medicine does. If he needs a favor done, then, that�s how he�ll go about it.

Granting

her access to medicine when he wants her to do something isn�t a price he minds paying, he thinks, and brings the teacup to his lips�

And it�s too sweet.

�Sir?� Gaoshun rises from his seat as Jinshi spits the tea out into the vase with the rhododendron.

�Who sent that tea?� he asks, wiping his mouth. He doesn�t think he swallowed any of it, but sometimes just holding it in his mouth is enough to have an effect.

�The new servant did, and�oh, no.�

Jinshi nods. �See to it that she is relocated,� he says, and retreats to his room before anyone can try any funny business.

Unfortunately, he leaves the girl�s records in his office, and he is unable to look through them in his home. He lays awake in bed past the moon�s zenith, anyway, waiting for the dull warmth and ache of the drug to pass. He�d rather not fall asleep like this�not until it�s out of his system, and especially not until the servant who gave it to him is far, far away from his service.

So he lies awake in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling. The aphrodisiacs she made for him lie on his bedside table, forgotten. It�s not as if there�s anyone he�d like to use them with, anyway. Maybe he�ll give them to his brother.

�Just who

are

you?� He asks the empty air.

The

weeks pass. The mysteries around her build.

There is a bandage wrapped around her left arm. Jinshi thought it to be from a burn or injury, soon to disappear, but it stubbornly remains as the weeks pass into months. It is always a pristine snow-white and expertly wrapped so it doesn�t unravel.

Her voice and face betray little, but the more he watches her, the more he realizes he can, actually, read her. He just needs to pay attention.

The twitch of the lips, a humorless laugh woven into her voice�these are all subtle glimpses of what�s going on in her head. Less subtly, she takes to looking at him like a worm whenever he flashes his sparkliest smile at her.

Bribes of medicine work on her in the way that a simple smile works on most others. The bribes of medicine take a few more pulled strings, yes, but it�s nice not to sell himself with a smile to get what he wants done.

Despite the eccentricity, though, what is undeniable is that she is brilliant.

Even the most difficult cases crumble like sand beneath her fingers. She burns through the details of each case like a wildfire, until the oxygen runs dry. No stone left unturned, no avenue left unchecked�she finds the truth, and she often finds it embarrassingly quickly.

After she has cracked the mystery open like it is nothing, she will report to him, pass the details off to Gaoshun, and just continue on her merry way. She only has interest in the truth. What comes after is of little concern to her.

Jinshi�s jealous, he must admit. Of her intelligence and her ability to wash her hands of it both. He�s just grateful she�s on his side, and not holed up and coveted in some other corner of the palace. He says as much to the emperor himself one night, when they are both a few cups deep into a bottle of grape wine from the west. Jinshi hadn�t planned on bringing up the topic himself, but the emperor asked first, so�

�She�s remarkable,� Jinshi tells him. �Capable and reliable, and whip-smart to boot.� He takes another sip. �You may notice that she�s a bit odd, but her skills speak for themselves�she�s helped me more in the last few weeks than Doctor Guen has in his whole career.�

�That�s quite a low bar,� his brother says with a laugh.

�It is,� Jinshi agrees. He sinks back into his seat a little with a sigh. �It doesn�t do her justice.�

The emperor smiles around his cup. �Looks like you�ve found a new toy, little brother.�

Jinshi sits up straighter, and tells himself the flush in his cheeks is only from the wine. �Nothing of the sort,� he assures. �I�m just glad I managed to bring her into my corner. Her talents are wasted as a laundry girl�could you imagine if some other actor got to her first? With her skill in poisons? There would be chaos.�

�Whatever helps you sleep at night,� his brother replies. �Just remember our agreement.�

I�d rather not

, Jinshi thinks to himself�but aloud, he says, �I�ll keep it in mind. I appreciate your generosity.�

The emperor strokes his beard, thinking. Jinshi takes the lull in conversation to refill his brother�s cup.

Don�t forget where you are,

he scolds himself.

�You said she was an apothecary?�

Jinshi lifts his head. �She is,� he replies. �She worked in the pleasure district with her father.�

�If she�s so clever,� the emperor wonders aloud, �maybe she would understand Lihua�s sickness.�

Jinshi�s blood runs cold.

�I�I�m not sure if that�s wise. She�s quite young�younger than me�and she may not have had so much experience treating patients if she worked with her father. Besides, the high consort�s illness is serious, and��

The emperor cocks an eyebrow. �You were just bragging of her brilliance to me, were you not?� He knocks back the drink. �Put her to the test.�

Jinshi, around the lump in his throat, can only bow his head.

�As you will,� he replies, and says no more.

The apothecary, as it turns out, is more than capable of handling herself.

�Go rinse your mouth out,� she spits at Lihua�s lady-in-waiting. �And wash your face.�

The lady, handprint of the poisonous white powder still on her face, scrambles to her feet and doesn�t pay Jinshi any mind as she shoves past him.

�And

you all

,� she barks at the other ladies-in-waiting. �You want that stuff on the patient?

Clean it up.

�

�Women,� Jinshi can�t help saying aloud, �are indeed terrifying.�

The apothecary seems to have forgotten he was there. She starts, eyes widening in panic. They meet his for a split-second before they flit away.

There�s a bounce in Jinshi�s step as he weaves through the throngs of ladies-in-waiting and officers milling about, all preparing for the garden party.

The weather has turned quickly this fall, and the late afternoon is frigid�winter is already looming. Jinshi tugs a little on his collar. The clothes are heavy and insulated, but that just means he�s more likely to sweat as he makes his rounds through the garden party. At least he�s not in the thin silk of many of the ladies.

There are braziers scattered around, and many of them are bunched around, warming their hands and gossiping through chattering teeth. Others, though, have gotten the clever idea of heating smooth stones in the coals, then tucking them into their robes to stay warm away from the fire.

Jinshi smiles to himself, feeling the press of one of the stones, tucked in a specially-sewn pocket in his inner robe. What a clever idea. He wonders where they got it fro.

Ignoring Gaoshun�s look of long suffering, Jinshi practically skips his way to the pavilion he knows he will find Gyokuyou in. It�s a little further from the main festivities and tucked under a spectacularly crimson maple tree, pure fire-red in the golden afternoon light.

Its leaves are nothing, of course, compared to Gyokuyou, draped in crimson robes a few shades deeper than her scarlet hair and a shawl that matches the green of her eyes. She is stunning, and he tells her as much.

�Thank you,� Gyokuyou replies with a demure blush�she is fluent in this language of flattery, and knows how to thread the needle between a lady�s bashfulness and a consort�s pride.

And with that, Jinshi thinks with glee, his mandatory greetings to the four High Consorts are finished, and he can get to more important matters.

All of her ladies-in-waiting look plenty nice, but none of them outshine their lady. (Imagine the scandal if they did.)But there�s one turned away from him, kneeled over the basket holding Princess Lingli. She�s dressed in the same pink and green robes to accent their mistress.

�And who�s this?� Jinshi says with a smile, and steps forward.

The girl turns, and his breath catches in his throat.

She looks�different here, in the shade of the pavilion and the glow of the afternoon light. Shadows pool in the folds of her robes, at her collarbone, in her eyes. Her cheeks are tinged with a slight blush touched yet-warmer in the light, and there�s crimson like her lady�s robes, like the maple tree, at her lips and in the corners of her eyes.

And those eyes�they still hold that same cold, hard glint they always do. But now, though, they are pools of ink, so black they swallow the light.

It takes Jinshi a moment before he remembers he�s supposed to say something.

�A-

Ah,

apothecary,� he starts�

shit

, how long was he just staring like a dumbstruck little boy? �I�hardly recognized you.�

Mentally, Jinshi kicks himself. Smooth.

But there is�there�s something different about her, besides the makeup and the robes and the golden afternoon light. He scrambles for a minute before it hits him: �Put on a touch of makeup?�

�I haven�t, sir,� she flatly denies.

He points at his own face, plastered with the smile that suddenly feels flake-thin and papery as gold leaf. �Your freckles are gone.�

�Because I removed my makeup.�

Jinshi cocks his head. �You�re not making sense.�

She narrows her eyes at him in annoyance, like she�s frustrated he can�t keep up. �It makes perfect sense,� she protests, with a bite in her words. Feisty as ever. �I apply clay to my face most days. Once it dries, it makes convincing freckles.�

�Clever,� he praises, and her lips narrow into a thin line. Yes, this back-and-forth is more familiar. �But to what purpose?�

�To prevent me from being dragged into some dark alley, sir.�

Jinshi freezes.

He wished to learn more about her, and now it is granted.

She was raised in the pleasure district, Maomao begins. Jinshi knew as much already. He did not, however, know the consequences.

The pleasure district, she explains, is not all gilded rooms and silken sheets. The brothels put that face forward, of course, in the countless beautiful women cooing from the windows of the main street, in the red lanterns that set the entire district aflame.

But dip into the alleyways, and walk a few blocks until that crimson glow fades, and you find the people who can only afford to live in the furthest reaches of society. There gather the poor, the sickly, the desperate. The pretty girls cooing from the brothels had to come from somewhere, after all. If they don�t want to starve, they have little else to sell.

Others, she explains, starve in different ways. They are surrounded by beautiful flowers, but those flowers require coin, and plenty of people here have none. What they can�t take with any of the girls on the main street, they steal in the alleys instead.

But even they have their tastes. Even they can be picky. Maomao is naturally small and twiglike, and to further lower her risk, she gathers and mixes clay to paint freckles on her cheeks. Some are semi-permanent, but most she applies daily.

Given the event today, though, she didn�t have to bother. Draped in the robes of her lady and wearing a necklace of jade and gold, he figures, no one would dare.

Jinshi remembers

baozi

, roses, and sick sweetness, and swallows the lump in his throat.

�Were you ever�?�

�A few tried. Kidnappers were the ones who got me in the end, though.� Maomao all but spits the last few words, and several things click into place for Jinshi at once.

He remembers that list of names in her records, the ones he assumed were her brothers.

Hands safely tucked into his robes where no one can see, he clenches them into fists.

Words do not come to Jinshi for a moment; when he opens his mouth to speak, nothing comes out. Her eyes narrow a fraction of a centimeter, as if to demand he stop flapping his mouth like a fish.

�I�m sorry,� he finally manages. �I�failed in my responsibility.�

To his surprise, she shrugs. �It doesn�t make a difference either way. Some are sold by kidnappers. Others by a family for a lump sum and one less mouth to feed. The results are the same.�

Jinshi�s heart twists horribly again.

Before he can think better of it, he grasps the stick of silver in his hair and steps forward, sliding it into her hair. He ignores the gasps from the ladies-in-waiting, and the glare he�s sure Gaoshun is burning into the back of his neck.

He�d intended to save the hair stick for a political favor, to be honest. In the garden, it�s as much a bargaining chip as it is an accessory, and now he�s burned a very useful tool before the festivities have even begun.

Maybe he will regret this later, but he cannot bring himself to care now. The apothecary could use a little extra protection.

�And where�s the apothecary?� Jinshi asks on his next visit to the Jade Pavilion. �I appreciate your efforts, Guiyuan,� he says with a nod to Gyokuyou�s lady-in-waiting, �but testing the tea is her duty, no?�

It�s not as if he has a burning poison-related problem at this minute, but he wonders if she�s still wearing that hairstick he gave her. It looked nice on her at the garden party, that�s all.

�Oh, yes,� Gyokuyou replies, clapping her hands together with a mirthful light in her eyes. �She went home with one of the military officers at the garden party.�

Jinshi spits out his tea.

�She

what.

�

�You asked for me, sir?�

As if she has any right to ask that.

�I heard you had a little visit home.�

�I did, sir.�

Jinshi knits his fingers together.

�And how was it.�

�Everyone was in good health. That�s the most important thing.�

Jinshi narrows his eyes. �Is it, now.�

�Yes, sir.�

Jinshi resists the urge to grind his teeth.

�This �Lihaku��� Jinshi makes air-quotes around that forsaken name� �What kind of man is he to you?�

�He vouched for me so that I could leave the palace, sir.�

�And do you know what that

means?

� he demands. �Do you

understand

?�

�Of course,� she replies. �One must be a high official of flawless background in order to vouch for another.�

�High official�, she says. �Flawless background�, she says. Is �Jinshi the eunuch, manager of the rear palace� not enough for her, then?

For a very brief moment, Jinshi wonders if this is worth blowing his cover for.

�Did he give you a hairstick?� Jinshi presses.

�Me and many others. He gave them to practically every girl in sight. He felt it was an obligation, apparently.�

Maomao reaches into her robes and pulls out the plainest, least impressive hairstick Jinshi has ever seen. It�s carved of what looks like a stick from a tree, and the beads tied to the end don�t even have the luster of real pearls.

Oh,

absolutely

not.

�You�re telling me I lost out to

that

,� Jinshi breathes in disbelief. �To some crappy bauble some hack felt

obligated

to give to you.�

Pure silver. Masterful craftsmanship. A design like a phoenix�s wing. Hours spent twisting the metal into shape, and forged by a jeweler in direct service to the imperial family.

And it lost to a

twig

.

�Well,

I

gave you a hairstick, too,� Jinshi protests, �but I didn�t hear a

peep

from you that you needed someone to vouch for you!�

�My sincerest apologies,� Maomao replies, while managing to not sound very sincere at all. �I couldn�t think of compensation that would be worthy of you, Master Jinshi.�

Jinshi pales. �Compensation?� he echoes. �What�s that supposed to mean?�

�I offered him a night�s pleasure,� she replies.

The teacup in Jinshi�s hand falls and shatters.

One bright winter�s morning, as the frost melts on the grass outside, eighty wooden strips land on his desk, each containing a name to be cut from employment for contact with a dead woman.

He only truly cares about one, though.

�What do I do about this�?� Jinshi wonders aloud to himself.

The writing is clear as day�Maomao, Jade Pavilion. The letters do not change no matter how much he stares at them, or fervently prays they would.

Gaoshun watches him from the corner. �She�s been a very fortuitous pawn,� he argues, cold and rational. The sort of thinking expected from a leader at a time like this.

In the scant few months she�s been here, Maomao has saved the life of a consort, solved several mysteries, and removed more than a few thorns from Jinshi�s side. She is a useful asset, and it would be easiest to think of her as such.

Jinshi breathes out hard through his nose, pressing his forehead into his knuckles until the skin starts to sting. The pain sharpens his focus but does not solve his problem.

�Is that all she is?� He wonders aloud to himself.

He didn�t intent for Gaoshun to hear, but the man bows his head anyway.

�It is all she can ever be, Master Jinshi.�

Jinshi bites back a sneer and stands. �I�m going to think on this,� he declares. �Hold off on anything with her until I can get my thoughts straight.�

Maybe a walk outside in the freezing air will clear his mind. He heads for the door.

�And the other seventy-nine, sir?� Gaoshun calls after him.

Jinshi waves a hand over his shoulder. �They can all go.�

She wishes to leave, and Jinshi despairs.

�There�s no point anymore,� Jinshi protests when Gaoshun tries to rouse him from his desk. �No point in any of it�.�

�You�re practically growing mushrooms, sir.�

Jinshi sniffs and buries his face in his sleeves. �I hope they�re poisonous,� he whines. �Maybe then she�d come back to me��

Even with his eyes closed, he can hear Gaoshun sigh in noisy disapproval.

After a few days of his moping, Gaoshun urges him to go to the manor of a particular lord on a particular night. There will be courtesans and dancers there, Gaoshun says. You should take the night off, he says.

Jinshi catches his meaning but goes only to drink his sorrows away.

The room the festivities take place in is dimly lit and smoky. Jinshi plops himself down in the dimmest, smokiest corner with a bottle of liquor and decides that he will grow roots here for the evening.

Thank the heavens he didn�t pass that bill for raising the drinking age.

The music and the courtesans are beautiful. So he hears in the awed voices of the other customers. Jinshi keeps his head down, face buried in his sleeves, and sulks the hours away.

A presence settles silently next to him.

�Leave me be,� Jinshi sulks at them. He�s in mourning. He picked out his darkest robes for a reason. Can�t they see that?�

The figure next to him gives a quiet sigh but makes no effort to move.

�Please,� he repeats, squeezing his eyes shut. �I just want to be left alone��

Fingers brush his cheek. Jinshi recoils immediately with a sneer�even like this, people feel entitled to touch, of

course�

�Master Jinshi?� comes an achingly familiar voice, and Jinshi whirls around so fast his head spins.

And by some inexplicable stroke of fate, Maomao is sitting right next to him, hand still raised from where she brushed his cheek.

Her robes are ornate as the garden party, dyed a deep turquoise and embroidered in pinks and greens, like a lotus in the heat of summer. Her hair is swept over her shoulder, still woven with those familiar red and blue beads she always keeps in her hair. The usual freckles are gone from her cheeks, warmed by blush, and her lips are painted a vivid, inviting red. Here, wide-eyed and draped in finery, Jinshi would hardly recognize her.

Her eyes, though. Wide, curious, questioning�he would know them anywhere. Here, in the dim light and smoke, they are dark as the space between stars in the sky, and draw him in just the same.

And once again, Jinshi is left speechless.

His mouth flaps for a moment, searching for words. What finally comes to him is, �Anyone ever tell you that you look different without makeup?�

Smooth.

Maomao frowns a little. (

Smooth

.) �Often, sir.�

Feeling suddenly lighter than he has in weeks, Jinshi smiles to himself.

Their misunderstanding, as painful as it was, is easy to rectify. She is here as a courtesan, it turns out, though she hasn�t taken any clients yet.

Absolutely unacceptable. Jinshi knows a better place he can put her to work.

Five thousand silver pieces to the madam of the Verdigris House, and another five hundred for the cordyceps fungus Maomao is oddly enamored with, is a bargain price to pay.