Maomao snapped the straining cloth taut.
In the autumn breeze, the sun-dried white cloth stood out against the blue sky. It was a cloudless blue. It had rained heavily the other day, but clear weather had persisted ever since.
It would only get colder from here on, making the laundry work increasingly tedious. Devoted as she was to her duties as a lady's maid,
Yanyan
was
researching how to make ointment so that Yao
would not get chapped hands.
There were occasional troubles, but for the most part, peaceful times had continued.
(What was that painting again?)
Maomao suddenly recalled a certain painting—the eerie picture that a girl named Jazgul had drawn.
Come to think of it, the western priestess was supposed to have stayed in
Li,
but was she living properly? Of course,
Ada
was looking after her responsibly, so nothing strange should happen—but.
Still, Maomao was once again struck by how Ada, despite her position as a former consort, shouldered the kingdom's darker affairs all on her own.
The surviving children of the Zi clan, along with Cui Ling—
who was unofficially a grandchild of the late Emperor and a niece of the current Emperor—and
the priestess of
Sha Ou,
who was said to have died.
The cross-dressing beauty handled everything without a hitch, but how did those around her see it? No, of course, since it was all being done in secret, she didn't think it would be discovered so easily.
But the court was a frightening place, and there were plenty of people with overly keen noses.
(I just hope no odd people sniff this out.)
Maomao
Maomao emptied the water remaining at the bottom of the tub into the drain, musing as she did so.
"There's no work for a whole day, is there,"
Doctor Liu said with a look of exasperation.
The medical office was dead quiet, with nothing but the call of a solitary bird. This was normally the time when wounded military officers streamed in without pause.
"The Generalissimo himself is skipping out first, so there's nothing we can do about it,"
a young doctor said with a wry smile, looking somewhat disappointed. He was holding a book of Go problems in his hand.
"Civil officials seem to be the ones who slack off more. There was quite a tug-of-war over who'd get today off, apparently. The military officers have it easier since they can use 'going on patrol' as an excuse, right?"
Maomao knew. She knew that this young doctor had been desperate to get the day off but had ended up coming in anyway.
The medical office had to maintain a minimum number of doctors at all times, so it was harder to take time off here than in other departments.
"If there's no work like this, may I go home?"
Even such weak pleading didn't work on Doctor Liu.
"Well, since we have time to spare, why don't you prepare some of the medicines we're running low on?"
He said with a nasty grin.
At the word "prepare," Maomao's eyes lit up and she moved closer to Doctor Liu.
"What should I make?"
"Ah, well, I hate to ask when you've finally gotten motivated, but—"
Doctor Liu quietly brought out a cloth bundle.
"Go run an errand for me."
Maomao's face immediately soured.
"What are you saying, are you trying to treat me like some errand girl?"
"Not at all."
She answered in a flat monotone. It must have shown on her face.
"A-about that errand, I could—"
"It can't be you."
She was refused outright. If Maomao was being specifically designated for this, she couldn't help but feel uneasy about what it might mean.
"Deliver this here."
He quietly produced a map and showed it to her. It was a spot in one corner of the capital, an open square. Near it, once before,
the White Lady
had performed her tricks at a nearby shop.
"...Here?"
"Here, I said. Don't go making that face."
The reason she grimaced was that the square was currently hosting an event—a Go tournament. Needless to say, she could already guess who would be there.
"The Chinese medicine physician should be there too. He's off duty, so he went on his own initiative—it's not exactly work, but still."
Maomao had a rough idea of what he was thinking.
"With so many people gathered, even at something like a Go tournament, someone is bound to feel unwell. Normally I'd hesitate to trouble the physicians, but perhaps this is exactly the kind of occasion when we should lend a helping hand?"
There was something contrived about it.
Most likely, the tournament's organizers—
Rahan
and his lot had pulled some strings. They said the eccentric strategist was keen to play Go, but no one could predict what he might pull, so they had decided to take preventive measures.
The old man would never have refused, and as for Maomao, she had already gone and involved Eunuch Liu.
(What a joke.)
Yanyan had been interested in Go, so Maomao had deliberately taken on the errand herself and let Yao take a break with her. And yet here she was.
"It's work, so you'll handle it properly, right?"
Eunuch Liu pressed the point, and all Maomao could do was nod.
She resolved to pay no mind to the young physician watching her with undisguised envy.
She didn't need the map to find the way to the square—she only had to follow the stream of people carrying Go books.
People of all ages and both sexes had gathered, with Go boards lined up across the square. There were meager strips of cloth for shade—nothing more than boards set atop wooden crates.
(But still—)
When people gathered in such numbers, even a crude venue began to look impressive. Restaurants that normally operated along the main thoroughfare had extended their reach out here, setting up stall after stall. Children tugged at their mothers' sleeves, begging for freshly baked treats.
Alongside goods related to Go, there were shogi pieces,
leaf card games,
and even mahjong sets on display. Some merchants had gone so far as to set up jewelry and accessory stalls. Even those with no interest in Go were drawn in by the crowd and had wandered over.
(That's so like Rahan.)
That money-grubbing scoundrel. He was undoubtedly charging stall fees.
Maomao wove her way through the gaps between people and spotted a familiar face.
"Yao! Enen!"
Sure enough, the two of them were there. Yao was rubbing ointment onto a child's scraped knee. Enen was giving water to an elderly man whose face had gone pale.
"Maomao. What about your work?"
Yao looked at her with a puzzled expression.
"I was sent on an errand by Official Liu. Though honestly, I'm more curious about what the two of you are doing here."
"Oh, it's all because of your 'dear brother.'"
At Yao's words, Maomao narrowed her eyes.
"A medical official who should have been off duty got dragged in, and apparently he can't manage everything alone, so he asked us to help out too."
"You could have just said no."
She felt bad for the old man, but both of them were off duty. There was no obligation for them to work the same way they did at the medical office. In the first place, someone like this should have hired local doctors rather than putting the old man and Yao and the others to work.
And now they even wanted to drag Maomao into it.
That was exactly the sort of penny-pinching thing Rahan would pull.
"You should really charge them for this."
Maomao felt like fleecing that curly-haired, round-glasses guy for every last copper.
"I don't really mind. I'm not that interested in Go anyway."
She finished applying the ointment to the child's knee and said, "There, all done."
"Thanks, miss!"
The child thanked Yao.
(My, my.)
Yao did her own thing, waving at the child with a smile. Then, catching Maomao's gaze, she stiffened her expression.
Enen gave a small thumbs-up. "See? Our young lady is adorable."
"If it's an errand, then it's the court physician's place, right? The physician is over there."
What Yao pointed to was the theater. It was a fairly large building where events were frequently held.
"Apparently, they'd originally planned to hold everything just there. But..."
They were laying out go boards across the plaza. No matter how you looked at it, there were far too many people.
"I'd like to say it's a huge success, but it's clearly over capacity."
They'd hastily expanded the venue to the plaza, which was fine, but there were various problems.
There were surely injured people and those feeling unwell.
The old man Enen had been nursing seemed to feel better. Grinning to show his gap-toothed front teeth, he tried to go play go again, so she draped a towel over his head and had him drink another cup of water. Even though things had cooled down, today was clear skies. He could easily collapse from the heat.
The old man wasn't so clueless as not to understand that. Around the people playing go, someone walked about carrying a large sake flask and bowls. When a player raised a hand, they would pour from the flask into a bowl and hand it over.
It was makeshift, but they'd even prepared shade, so they were doing everything they could.
"Ah, Maomao."
Enen approached. She whispered softly near Maomao's ear.
"Over there, besides the court physician, the Grand Commandant is also present."
"..."
Maomao made a terrible face as she looked at the luggage.
"I'd like to say you could go instead, but I'd prefer to have Maomao go."
"...Why is that?"
"Because once this job is done, Enen is going to have the Grand Commandant play a game."
"Yes. It's an honor."
In other words, she was telling Maomao to obediently go to the eccentric strategist's place.
"To think I'd get to play for free..."
(Well, it's practically free anyway, isn't it?)
"With our salaries, that's an amount I'd hesitate to pay."
(Well, no—Yao's post-meal
snacks—
those are pretty expensive too.)
She probably had no idea how high-end those daily snacks were—brimming with ingredients for beauty, health, and lactation—or how much they cost per month.
(She probably makes sure of that.)
As expected of En'en.
"Try not to make too much noise. Whoever wins three matches at the plaza moves on to the theater. And whoever takes three more wins at the theater earns the right to challenge the Grand Commandant."
"Can't you just pay to play? If the fastest path is six wins, that'd take quite a while, though."
Maomao tilted her head at En'en.
"Yes, you have to win to earn the right. Also, the tournament runs through tomorrow, so six wins would be rather difficult. If I could receive your guidance, that would truly be a stroke of luck."
Just how condescending could she be, Maomao wondered in exasperation. And tomorrow—the second day—happened to be her day off.
(She's definitely going to drag me into this.)
Maomao clicked her tongue and headed for the theater, the main venue.