After that, Jinshi finished his supper and was ready to leave.
Naturally, the apothecary's quarters were too cramped, so they prepared an unused guest room for him.
Needless to say, Maomao brought out the leftover stir-fried locusts. She had no intention of making him eat them, of course. She was simply in a playful mood, wanting to pull a little prank.
She planned to pull them back the instant Jinshi's mood soured even slightly. The old woman had also been glaring at her with a look that suggested she had something to say about it.
However—
Jinshi, though offered the locust half-jokingly by Maomao, hesitated for only a moment before putting it in his mouth.
Maomao couldn't help but contort her own face.
Watching Jinshi chew the locust with his brow furrowed, she felt as though she had witnessed something she should not have.
Everyone around her seemed to share the same feeling—they all wore expressions as though lightning had struck right behind them.
Gaoshun's hands trembled uncontrollably.
The young eunuch who had brought the supper wore a tearful, pouty face, like a beloved doll that had been soiled with mud.
Chouu, who had come to check on the meal, twisted his face and shook his head, saying, "That won't do."
Even the old woman's face was twisted in discomfort.
Jinshi ignored them all, chewed, and swallowed. His unpleasant expression did not change, but he looked at Maomao as if he had something to say.
"Congee."
"Ah, yes."
She offered him the bowl of congee, but Jinshi made no move to take it. He alternated his gaze between the congee and Maomao.
It's going to get cold, you know?
Wondering what he wanted, Maomao picked up her spoon. She scooped some congee to inspect it, wondering if he was dissatisfied with the ingredients.
Just then, Jinshi lunged forward and snapped at it.
"..."
It wasn't as if she were feeding a baby.
She scooped another spoonful of congee, and he leaned in again. Fearing it would spill, she brought it right to his mouth.
He gulped down the congee.
Maomao squinted as she picked up a grasshopper with her chopsticks.
Jinshi grimaced but bit down on the grasshopper all the same.
A shriek rang out from Haku.
There was a clatter, and the baldy was sniveling and crouching on the floor, with Zhao Wa consoling him.
Maomao wondered if the sight had really been that traumatic. Perhaps it was too much for a child.
"Freckles, I'm taking this one with me. And you, 'sis,' take responsibility for what you're doing."
"…"
Jinshi chewed with puffed-out cheeks, barely managing to swallow the grasshopper. He did not look like he was enjoying it in the slightest. And yet, he kept eating.
Zhao Wa led away the weeping baldy.
(I really shouldn't have done that.)
Given his features, Jinshi usually avoided showing his face around the pleasure quarter as much as possible. Even the madam was reluctant to let him be seen, fearing it would interfere with the courtesans' work.
This meant the baldy who had brought the food was a mute girl. She appeared to be one who had been abused by her parents and ultimately sold off — her throat had been crushed, rendering her unable to speak. She had a rather timid personality, but she worked diligently, preferring this life over returning to her family.
Zhao Wa, who had something of a ringleader's temperament, often shielded the timid baldy in various ways. He insisted it was "because she's one of my crew," but who could say?
Having finished swallowing the grasshopper, Jinshi looked at Maomao again.
(Yes, yes.)
Maomao once more lifted the lotus spoon to Jinshi's mouth.
"Hey, Freckles."
After Jinshi had left, Zhao Wa came over, having finished his duty watching over the baldy. For some reason he was carrying a brush and paper in his hand.
"Where'd you get that paper?"
"Oh, the madam gave it to me."
"That stingy old woman actually gave you paper?"
To put it nicely, the madam was a frugal, capable woman. Maomao found it hard to believe she would hand out something as precious as paper so casually.
"Well, she gave it to me, so what's the problem? More importantly, sit down over there."
"Why should I?"
Maomao wanted to finish tidying up the medicine shop and head home, since she was already running late with dinner. But here was this demanding brat making yet another fuss.
As she tried to brush them off with an annoyed look, a hoarse voice came from behind.
"Come now, listen to what Chouu has to say. Stay and sleep here tonight. It'd be such a hassle to start up a fire when you get home. I've even got nightclothes ready."
"Granny, what's wrong? Did you see something strange and lose your mind?"
She let those words slip before she could stop them, aimed right at the kind old woman. A fist — faster than any granny had a right to be — came crashing down on her head. This wretched hag might be old, but she was taller than Maomao, and the force behind that swing nearly sent her sprawling.
"I'm telling you, I've laid out futons in the room from earlier. Take a bath before bed — the water should still be warm."
(This seems awfully sketchy.)
Thinking that, but figuring she might as well, she stepped into the room. Chouu was spreading out paper while the old procuress busily prepared ink.
(Way too suspicious.)
For some reason, the nosy bystanders
Miss Shirisu
and
Miss Joka
had gathered there. Today seemed to be a tea-pulling day. The other courtesans were busy entertaining their guests.
"Granny, don't you need to check on the incense?"
"Ukyou's got it handled. He'll manage."
She was wondering why they'd all gathered here when they had work to do, when she noticed Chouu, having finished preparing his brush, was staring at Maomao.
"What?"
"Freckles, tell me what kind of man you like."
"Huh?"
What was he going on about? Thinking him an idiot, she grabbed the nightclothes from the basket and went to prepare for her bath. But the old procuress tugged at her sleeve, stopping her.
"Come on, take this seriously."
"Maomao, you shouldn't defy the old lady~"
Even Miss Shirisu was telling her that.
Miss Joka was smoking her pipe with an aloof expression. It was the hour when guests came and went, but this room was reserved for people who didn't want to be seen, so nobody would just wander in. That meant the old woman didn't complain even if their manners were a bit rough.
"For now, just tell me what type you like. Tall, muscular — you've got preferences, right?"
What a pain.
"Not too big — I'd rather he wasn't all that large."
"I see, I see."
Deciding it was best to just answer obediently, Maomao reluctantly sat down on the bedding. She kept her feet tucked under the blanket since it was cold.
"A bit on the plump side would be better than thin."
Being tall meant a crick in the neck for small Maomao.
If he looked too thin, people would think she hadn't been feeding him.
"Facial hair?"
"It's fine either way, but I'm not fond of thick ones."
People might call that manly, but it came across as unkempt more than anything. Whenever she saw a guy who clearly didn't bother grooming, there'd be rice grains stuck in his beard, and it just set her off.
"What about the face?"
"Soft features over sharp ones."
Fox-like eyes were an absolute no — truly the worst.
"Droopy eyebrows, then?"
"Yeah, I'll leave that part up to you."
"Hmm, how about something like this?"
Chou U gently waved the sheet of paper he'd sketched on.
"Oh my, a bit plain, isn't he?"
Shiruzu commented, the muscular manly type being her preference.
"He's got that innocent, sheltered-kid look going on."
The madam wasn't too impressed either.
"Pass. No way."
Kyoka cut in without hesitation to reject him outright. Among the three courtesans, she was the one who — despite being a courtesan herself — held a deep aversion to men. Almost every candidate was sent packing.
And Maomao caught a glimpse of what she meant.
"..."
"What's wrong?"
The madam asked Maomao, who was silent.
"It's just... he looked so much like him."
"Oh my, Maomao, could it be that you have someone you fancy~"
While Shirasu got excited, the madam's expression didn't brighten.
She certainly didn't dislike him, though.
"What kind of man?"
"Well, before we even get to 'man'..."
Because he was a eunuch...
There, drawn on the paper, was a man who looked just like the quack doctor.
After this deflating answer, everyone promptly left the room.
"Oh, boring~"
Shirasu, who had been eager to gossip about romance, was the first to leave once she lost interest. She glanced at Maomao but decided to pretend she hadn't noticed.
The madam also left with a bored expression, and Chouu headed off to the bath.
The only one who remained was Joka, smoking her pipe.
Joka gently opened the window. Cold air blew in through the gap. In the sky, dark as dissolved ink, hung a half-moon and sparse stars, and through the window one could see the silhouettes of men and women.
Tonight, too, in this pleasure house, countless loves would be born and then vanish with the dawn.
Exhaling purple smoke, Joka looked at Maomao.
"I'm in favor of it. You never know when a man's feelings will change. And that's even more true for a man who holds power."
Joka set down her pipe. The gesture was languid yet beautiful. The youngest of the three sisters was a woman of talent whose education was held in high regard by guests. It was said that if you could keep up with Joka's conversation, you could pass the imperial examinations.
"If you had Shirasu's personality, I wouldn't try to stop you. Shirasu is anxious too, but I want her to understand that our personalities are different. Maomao, if anything, you're more like me."
She knew what Joka was saying.
That was probably about that matter.
"There's no man whose heart doesn't change. If you stay here, you learn that lesson well enough. What's the point of trusting someone?"
Joka picked up her pipe once more and quietly tapped out the ash. Then she packed in fresh tobacco and took an ember from the brazier.
White smoke enveloped her.
"In the end, I'm a courtesan, and you're a courtesan's daughter."
That was reality.
Maomao looked at the ash that had dropped into the brazier and furrowed her brow slightly.
"Miss, aren't you smoking a bit too much?"
"It's fine, once in a while. Those stiff-faced officials can't stand seeing a woman puff on a pipe."
She blew a puff of smoke toward the sky, as if to say: at least let me do as I please when there are no customers around.