When the slender sweet flag was setting blue buds, the shipment arrived. The cart kept dropping burlap sacks in front of the Rokuseikan.
The entire shipment was
addressed to
Maomao.
"My, the quality doesn't look bad."
The one helping herself to inspect the contents with an air of authority was the madam. Inside the burlap sacks was wheat—Maomao's share from the bet she'd won during the Paper Village incident. She'd asked for rice, but wheat was fine too. It was just a bit of a hassle to grind into flour.
Judging by the wheat, the madam was right—the quality wasn't bad at all. Maomao took a few grains, peeled back the husk, and examined the kernel. It still felt a bit watery. Probably freshly harvested this year.
Was this an act of defiance from the other party? It would be better to let it dry a bit more before grinding into flour. As far as Maomao was concerned, getting what she was owed at all was a bonus, so she wasn't about to get angry over something like this.
She'd keep one bag for porridge and sell the rest off to a miller. She had absolutely no intention of storing it long-term.
"I know a good miller. I'll introduce you."
The madam, reading Maomao's intentions, offered.
"You'll try to skim off the top, no doubt."
Even so, going through the madam was the smarter move to avoid getting shortchanged by buyers, so Maomao agreed to the proposal. Having the sacks dropped in front of the Rokuseikan in the first place had been part of the plan from the start.
The cat,
Maomao,
was utterly fascinated by the wheat sacks and had been digging her claws into them. She'd been coming into heat lately, and Maomao had to keep a watchful eye to make sure she didn't keep popping out kittens.
Maomao grimaced as she pulled the cat away from the sack, and the cat thrashed her limbs in protest.
(Hm?)
Something was hidden behind the wheat sacks—a box. When she opened it, inside was high-quality paper.
Maomao picked up a sheet and felt its texture.
"Now this is nice. I've never seen paper this thin before."
The madam reached for a sheet herself, of course. Just as she'd said, it was thin and translucent. The colors were vivid too—peach pink and young grass green, among others. Not only that, but flower petals were scattered throughout the paper.
"Looks like a new product."
Being purveyors to the imperial court, they naturally produced refined goods. It was only paper, but it was exceptional paper at that. Probably from the quack doctor's family back home.
Maomao's eyes went wide as she continued to flail her front paws. It seemed she wanted to use that paper as a scratching post, but Maomao wasn't about to allow that. She tossed Mau-Mau aside, then shut the box of paper securely and moved to store it deep in her hovel.
—But then she reconsidered and decided to show it to the old procuress instead.
"How much will you buy it for?"
"My, my, you're trying to sell something you got for free?"
"If you don't want it, that's fine."
"You really are—just who did you take after?"
(It's all thanks to your education, Granny.)
She pulled out a single sheet with pressed flowers inlaid in it and showed the rest to the old woman.
If it was the kind of elegant paper a refined gentleman would favor, it would be perfectly suited for letters to distinguished clients. Not a few among the guests would judge the quality of a courtesan by such details, so these kinds of tools shouldn't be underestimated.
(Where should I put this?)
If she carelessly left it out,
Zhao Yu
would probably use it for scribbling. She was thinking of putting it somewhere deep in the medicine shelf for the time being when she heard a horse whinnying. Wondering what was going on, she saw a familiar face outside.
"What brings you here, Basen?"
"Explanation later—just get on!"
With that, he forced Maomao onto the horse.
(Lately it's been nothing but this.)
Maomao felt sorry for the sweat-drenched horse, but she wrapped her hands around Basen's waist to keep from falling off.
The place they arrived at was a mansion in the northeastern part of the capital.
From the height of the buildings and the breadth of the grounds, it was clear this belonged to someone quite influential.
"Where is this place?"
"…It's Lord Jinshi's detached palace."
And then, Basen quietly glanced toward the building diagonally across.
Maomao followed his gaze. That, too, was a rather impressive mansion.
"And that one over there?"
"That over there...
Uryuu
...Lord's mansion."
After saying he would explain the details inside, Ma Sen entered through the gate.
Being Jinshi's temporary palace, of course one had to assume its master might be present. Needless to say, he was. He was most certainly there. He was there in full splendor.
Jinshi lay languidly on a long chair, gazing out the window the whole time. Today his expression seemed less tired than troubled.
What had happened?
"You've come."
As Jinshi turned toward them, Maomao bowed her head.
"It's been a while."
"It has been a while, Lord Jinshi."
"Yes. I'll get straight to the point."
Jinshi looked out the window once more. There stood the Uryuu mansion that Ma Sen had been gazing at earlier.
"Last night, there was a banquet at Lord Uryuu's mansion."
Jinshi had apparently stayed at this closer temporary palace because of it.
"They said it was meant to deepen fellowship, but it also served as a celebration of his daughter's birthday."
"A birthday?"
When he said "daughter,"
Risu
...she thought of the consort, but he must have been referring to her half-sister.
Normally, commoners didn't place much importance on the exact date and time of birth. You were considered one year old at birth, and then turned a year older when the new year came. Celebrating one's actual birthday wasn't unheard of, but it was certainly a minority practice.
(Could marriage talks have been brought up?)
If they went through the motions of a celebration, even if just formally, it would provide a reason to bring the daughter into the public eye. If they then arranged for Jinshi to meet her there, the conversation would naturally drift toward that sort of topic.
As Risu's elder sister, she would be of suitable age.
Normally speaking, this would be a far more natural course of action than bestowing Risu.
I don't know what Uryou currently thinks of Risu, but there's nothing strange about an official trying to sell his daughter to Jinshi.
What of it? Why does Jinshi look so troubled?
Even if he wasn't enthusiastic about it, it's not as if Jinshi would be unable to turn her down.
"Uryou's daughter... she killed herself last night."
At Jinshi's words, Maomao's mouth fell open.
"...Did you really reject her that harshly?"
Being turned down by Jinshi would certainly come as quite a
shock
to any young woman. She'd always thought he handled these things well—where had he gone wrong?
"No, it's not like I rejected her or anything like that."
"How tragic. She must have been cast down from heaven to the very depths of the earth."
Maomao looked down and murmured softly.
"I told you that's not what happened!"
Jinshi raised his voice and slapped a sheaf of documents onto the desk.
What's this? Maomao picked them up and looked.
They contained a detailed account of the attack on Risu in the capital the other day.
"This is..."
"We've received intelligence that Risu's half-sister may have been the one pulling the strings behind the attack."
"And so last night, you set a trap."
"...That's right."
Jinshi said, looking uncomfortable.
Certainly, if the trap had led to her suicide, it would be as awkward as things could get.
However, even if she was a half-sister, anyone who laid a hand on a flower of the rear palace would still face the ultimate punishment.
"To do that to her own sister—even if they have different mothers..."
Maomao thought that Risu truly had a wretched life. Telling her the truth would be cruel.
(Ah, so that's why.)
It must have been because it involved Risu that Maashan had been so agitated.
But what did any of that have to do with summoning Maomao?
Jinshi stared intently at the Uryou residence.
"Risu's half-sister hanged herself, they say."
"Yes."
"Everyone at the banquet witnessed it."
"Yes."
That took real conviction—to resort to such a method. So that's why she had been in such a conspicuous place.
And that was why they had called Maomao out here.
"She hanged herself in a place visible from the banquet. And when everyone rushed over to help, she was gone."
Maomao flinched.
"At the spot where she supposedly hanged herself,"
shoes
"were the only thing left behind. But there was no body—just the rope she'd hanged herself with, dangling there. The rope had a cut in it."
And when everyone searched desperately for the half-sister, what they found was...
"A charred corpse, burned by the flames from the torches."
"..."
(This leaves a truly awful aftertaste.)
Now Maomao understood why Jinshi wore such a troubled expression.
With this, they couldn't very well press charges. If anything, it could even be used to turn the tables on Jinshi.
Honestly, she had been wondering what kind of mood Jinshi would show up in today. She didn't mean to be dismissive, but it was easier for Maomao when her mind was occupied with other things.
This way, she could handle things as she always did.
"So that's why you called me here."
If it was a suicide, the truth of the matter would never come to light. And more than anything—was it really a suicide?
He wants me to investigate it.
I don't have much choice.
Agreeing was really my only option.
Maomao nodded slightly and gazed out the window.