"(Huh... this feels like something I've seen somewhere before.)"
Maomao watched the two men on the stage, which had drawn a crowd of onlookers. Jinshi and the monocle-wearing fellow.
Between them sat a single Go board.
Last time, it had been Maomao facing off against the oddball at shogi. She'd managed to win their five-game match through cheating, but—
"(Are they going to do the same thing?)"
Would he fall for the same trick?
Surely even the oddball wouldn't fall for it twice, and the previous method had only worked because it was Maomao.
If that was the case, then had Jinshi simply wanted to play Go with the oddball?
If so, all he had to do was throw money at the problem.
Which meant that, at the very least, he had wanted this to take the form of a match.
Until just a while ago, several potential opponents had been gathered around the oddball, but the moment Jinshi showed up, they'd read the room and cleared out without hesitation.
This would likely be today's final match.
The two seemed to be talking about something, but Maomao was busy at the reception desk, diligently counting steamed buns.
It was already evening, and no more visitors were likely to come. She would take the remaining sweets home and serve them as snacks at the medical office.
It would be a waste to let them go.
"Excuse me."
A voice came from above. When she looked up, a sharp-eyed woman stood there. Beside her was a familiar face.
"Lord Basen, and..."
She had never seen this woman before. It was their first meeting.
"My sister," Basen said curtly.
The woman pressed down on the head of her brusquely-speaking brother.
"My foolish brother has been in your care. My name is Mame."
She smiled, but there was something raptor-like about her.
If she was Basen's older sister, then Gaoshun was—
She was that man's daughter.
(His older sister who reportedly treated their father with such disdain)
She looked nothing like either Maoshan or Gaoshun, so she must have taken after her mother.
"I've come to deliver something entrusted to me by Lord Jinshi."
Asami gently handed Maomao a cloth-wrapped parcel. A sweet, toasty aroma wafted from within.
Jinshi had said as much — the sweets would be brought along by someone later.
Maomao looked at Asami. Maoshan was present, and since she claimed to be his older sister, there should be no issue. Still, given her profession, she wondered whether it was really alright to simply feed Jinshi whatever was inside without checking.
"If you'd like to do a taste test for poison, please go ahead. Lady Suirei put great care into making these — I can vouch for the flavor."
"…Pardon me, then."
Maomao unwrapped the cloth parcel. Inside, baked treats about the size of her palm were wrapped in oil paper. She took one out.
Once the paper wrapping was removed, the rich, toasty fragrance grew even stronger. It had a pronounced scent of dairy and fruit.
The dough was soft and airy — apply any pressure and it would crumble instantly. Unlike mooncakes, which were packed dense, this was a light confection that would feel gentle on the stomach.
"Hmph."
Maomao blinked rapidly. Though she preferred spicy foods, she could certainly appreciate sweets. Along with its softness, the flavor had soaked evenly throughout. The taste of dried grapes and the pleasant crunch of walnuts complemented each other well.
Above all, the secret seasoning was impeccable.
Without thinking, her hand was about to reach for a second one when she caught herself and shook her head. "No, no, no."
"Lady Suirei truly lives up to her reputation. Could anyone among the court chefs produce something of this caliber?"
It was enough to make Maomao — whose palate had been sharpened by the consorts' tea gatherings, poison testing at Lucheng Hall, and countless tastings — let out an involuntary groan of admiration. This could be served anywhere without shame.
"Yes, I received some myself as well. The children were absolutely delighted."
Asami smiled with a hint of pride.
"It's certainly tasty, but is it really worthy of such high praise?"
"The man with no sense of taste should stay quiet."
"Maoshan's palate does seem rather unrefined, doesn't it?"
Called out by the two of them, Maoshan pulled a slightly sour face.
"Then please take it to Lord Jinshi."
She had wanted to leave the task to Mami, since she would rather not get close to eccentrics if she could help it.
"I'm an outsider, so I can't go up onto the stage. Please, you take it."
"...What about Lord Mashan?"
She deferred to Mashan, figuring it would be fine since he was Jinshi's attendant.
"Then I'll—"
Mashan's head was pressed down again by Mami.
"You take it. I was asked by Lord Jinshi."
"...Understood."
Maomao prepared a serving dish and arranged the sweets on it. Placing them on a tray, she headed for the stage.
Pushing through the crowd of onlookers standing at a distance, she found that besides Jinshi and the older man, two more people were on the stage. One was Rahan, who unlike Maomao understood Go and was glaring at the board while pushing up his glasses. The other was a man she didn't recognize. He was middle-aged, with a sharp, composed bearing. From his clothing, he was clearly upper class, but he didn't have the air of a bureaucrat.
(He seems like a scholar.)
There was something detached about him, as though he existed apart from worldly concerns.
Surrounding the stage were off-duty military officers standing guard. They were probably there to keep the audience from getting in the way.
Maomao had someone call Rahan over.
"What is it?"
"I brought sweets for Lord Jinshi. By the way, how's it looking right now?"
It was hard to tell from a distance. More importantly, even looking at the board, she couldn't make heads or tails of the situation.
"It's hard to say at this point. Lord Jinshi is playing by the book, and his game isn't bad. Plus, he has the black stones and is playing without komi, so he should have the advantage—"
"But?"
His tone carried a clear pro-Jinshi bias.
"What's scary about my adoptive father is the mid-game. He launches sudden attacks, and many of his moves deviate from established patterns. Whether there's komi or not, he can turn everything upside down in one go."
She could more or less follow. The eccentric strategist didn't win by knowing tactics—that wasn't his
style.
Rather, he was the type who acted on instinct and somehow always hit upon the right answer.
"Still..."
Rahan tilted his head.
"I feel like you're making your move later than usual."
"Oh?"
Maomao didn't care one way or the other. It didn't matter to her who won, though it would be more interesting if Jinshi did. What bothered her was that she couldn't figure out what Jinshi was thinking by playing this match now.
"Who's that person over there?"
"That's the Go Sage. He also serves as His Majesty's Go instructor."
She recalled that he was said to be the only person in the country currently stronger than the Eccentric.
"Can I go up for now?"
"Sure. Put it down somewhere empty. Just don't put it near the go stone containers. You might mistake the stones for sweets."
"Understood."
She climbed the stairs and stepped onto the platform.
She felt the eyes on her, but carrying a tray of sweets immediately marked her as just a tea server. However, she ignored the Eccentric, who had glanced her way for a moment and flashed a creepy, greasy smile.
(Even if he tells me to put it down somewhere empty...)
There was no room. A go board sat in the center, with go stone containers placed on each player's dominant side. Jinshi was on the right, the Eccentric on the left. Since there were containers on the same side, the sweets should go on the Eccentric's right and Jinshi's left—but—
Heaping piles of manju and mooncakes on large plates occupied the space, having originally claimed even Jinshi's designated sweet spot.
"..."
Even if she moved the sweet tray, there was no gap to place the plate.
With no choice, Maomao set it down in the gap on the container side. She placed it in the empty space in the middle to avoid it being mistaken for a go stone, but—
The moment she set it down, a hand shot out. The hand went straight to the mouth still covered in stubble, and in one bite, the sweet vanished.
"..."
All she could do was stare in disbelief. The eccentric strategist had just eaten one of Jinshi's sweets without batting an eye.
He chewed, swallowed, and then licked the oil from his fingertips.
He looked at Maomao with a dissatisfied expression, leaving her at a loss.
"Maomao."
Jinshi called her.
The eccentric strategist's face tightened into a harsh scowl.
Lately, she had finally started getting called by her name.
"Order some more snacks."
"...Understood."
They'd just get eaten by the eccentric anyway, Maomao thought as she piled the plate as full as she could. She would have liked to sneak one more if there were leftovers, but there was no helping it. She wondered if Suiren would teach her the recipe for those baked sweets.
Wishing the match would just finish already, she headed down the stairs.
The theater had, at some point, filled up with outside participants as well.
(No one else is coming to compete, right?)
Outside, the sun had barely dipped before darkness set in. The participants were putting away their go boards, and the surrounding stalls were closing up shop.
The remaining heat was only inside the theater, and moreover, only in the one-on-one between Jinshi and the eccentric.
(Is everyone gambling or something?)
If they were, she wished she could have put a few coins on Jinshi, the massive underdog.
Ma Shan and Ma Mei, the sibling pair, were mixed in among the spectators, but the elder sister had left a while ago. She had promised to return by evening and was apparently still working—having children was tough, Maomao observed from a detached distance.
Yao
and the others had apparently finished tidying up and come to watch the match.
Yan Yan
was looking on with sparkling eyes.
When everyone around you was passionately absorbed in a field you had no interest in, the sense of alienation was overwhelming, Maomao felt.
Everyone was watching intently, holding their breath, when a loud cry went up.
(Is the match over?)
If it was over, she would just head home—and with that thought, she turned toward the stage, only to find—
The two of them were still seated.
She scanned the surroundings, spotted Yao and the others, and went over to them.
"Is the match over?"
"Not yet."
Yao answered.
"Yes. But he may have already conceded."
Enen pointed to the theater wall. A large sheet of paper with a Go grid had been posted there. Beside it, Rabanne held a brush, adding stone placements to the board.
Since it was hard to see from a distance, they had arranged it so it would be visible.
"Is the challenger losing?"
"No... Tsuki no Kimi may be winning."
Enen shook her head. The somewhat spiteful tone was probably because Enen had once been separated from Yao on account of Jinshi. She resented Jinshi for it.
"That last move — I think Lord Rakkan made a fatal error."
Enen looked as though she could hardly believe it herself. The grating name reached Maomao's ears, but she endured it.
"Fatal?"
"Originally, Lord Rakkan is the type to adopt dangerous strategies. Think of it as tightrope walking the shortest possible route. So when he loses, it's never by being outpaced — it's more like stepping off the rope, a move from which there's no turning back."
"Maomao, do you understand?"
"Not a whit."
Yao didn't seem particularly interested in Go either. However, she seemed interested in Jinshi's face — her cheeks flushed slightly as she denied everything with "No, no, no." She appeared determined to devote herself to work for now.
Enen's expression shifted to one that regarded Jinshi with even more displeasure.
"In any case, to turn things around from here, he would need to play even more aggressively and riskily — but Lord Rakkan appears to be in particularly poor condition today."
"..."
Enen was right. His complexion was bad. Not just bad, but his eyelids looked as though they might swell shut at any moment.
He must have been exhausted.
"He'd actually been working unusually hard lately, too."
In order to organize the Go tournament. It seemed Jinshi had piled a considerable amount of work on him.
"And he's been getting far less sleep than usual."
Even so, he was probably still sleeping more than the average person. Maomao recalled telling Jinshi on several occasions — during those stretches when he went sleepless night after night — that sleep deprivation led to diminished judgment.
"Since yesterday, he's been playing Go nonstop."
Sometimes it was three-player or four-player matches. The greater the amount of thinking required, the more the mind wore down.
In the end.
"Maybe that sweet was the cause, too."
Maomao recalled the confection that Ms. Kuna had brought. It was a most delicious treat — soft, moist dough studded with intensely aromatic dried fruits.
The reason Maomao, who wasn't particularly fond of sweets, found it so delectable was:
(Maybe the secret ingredient was a strong distilled liquor.)
A faint scent of alcohol had mingled with the smell of the cheese. Baking had driven off most of the ethanol, but whatever had soaked into the fruit still remained.
If the eccentric military strategist was weak with liquor, even if it wouldn't floor him, he might still get tipsy.
(...That man.)
Could he have based this on the method Maomao had used before?
Still, this was an awfully roundabout way of going about it.
That brought yet another facet to light.
*'Don't place it near the Go board.'*
That was what Luomen had said — perhaps it was so that the eccentric strategist would be within reach of it. Knowing that man, he'd snatch the sweets the moment Maomao brought them.
Maomao pressed her fingers to her forehead. She'd been played like a fiddle. It wasn't as though she'd suffered any real loss, but it still galled her.
He was handsome enough, but just how rotten at his core was this man?
(I'm not going to feel satisfied until I get at least one medicinal favor out of him.)
At the same time, she was curious about the reason he had gone to such lengths — all that advance preparation — just to win a game.
Assuming the eccentric strategist was involved, for a moment a dark thought crossed her mind.
(No way...)
Surely, if there were no other reason, he wouldn't have dragged everyone around him into something like this.
While she was mulling this over, the eccentric strategist clicked a Go stone into place with a sharp *clack*.
It was then.
The theater doors burst open with a violent crash. Heavy footsteps thundered in as an imperious, graying man strode through.
"The court physician — is the court physician in here?!"
He bellowed the demand with no trace of courtesy. Behind the older man stood two others wearing identical faces.
"That one—"
It was the lecherous triplet girl they'd interrogated before.
"What seems to be the matter?"
The old man seated on a chair beside the stage rose to his feet. He shuffled along on his cane, but she pushed past the audience at a brisk pace, clearly impatient, and planted herself in front of him.
Maomao had been about to head toward the old man, but upon spotting the row of guards nearby, she stopped in her tracks.
"This is your doing. My son — my son!"
"Whatever has happened?"
Her son. Sure enough, there was one too few.
"Here."
The middle-aged man set a cloth-wrapped bundle on the table. When it was opened, inside lay —
Two of the man's fingers.
Screams erupted from the crowd.
"Find my son! If my son dies because of you, what then?!"
She screamed the commands at the old man.