Gyokuen's third son,
Kororo,
was a humble, earnest man. At least,
that was how
Maomao saw him.
"I'm terribly sorry, but I was hoping to arrange a carriage."
Kororo spoke politely to the servant. The servant seemed so accustomed to this that it didn't appear
Kororo
was merely putting on an act in front of Jinshi.
"Is he really
Gyokuen's
son, I wonder?"
Li Bai
squinted as he watched Kororo dash along the corridor. The massive warrior held
a hoe
in his hands and was tilling the soil. Permission had been granted to turn the main estate's garden into farmland as well, following the annex,
so Brother
Raban had started plowing diligently. Li Bai, reasoning that merely standing guard would make his body go soft, was helping with the farm work as a form of training.
Watching the freshly tilled fields with tears in his eyes was the main estate's gardener. The greenhouse gardener patted him consolingly on the shoulder.
"There are plenty of parent-child pairs who don't look alike."
Maomao was sun-drying thinly sliced cucumber. The greenhouse gardener was glaring at her, but she pretended not to notice.
With Gyokuen gone, the political landscape of the Western Capital had changed considerably. Now that Jinshi was stepping into the open, concrete actions were finally being taken.
The wretched locusts had descended upon the Western Capital in swarms several times over the past few months. Perhaps people had grown accustomed to the repeated invasions, for they now lived alongside the locusts with perfect composure.
(They've gone numb to it, haven't they?)
Still, wherever there were locusts, they killed as many as they could, and it seemed they were plowing up any ground where locusts might lay eggs. There had even been a proposal to set fire to the grasslands while the hatchlings still couldn't fly, but they abandoned the idea since the western region, unlike the central plains, was an arid zone with little rainfall, and there was no telling how far the fire might spread.
They were sticking with their brute-force manpower tactics, but
autumn plowing
was being combined with land clearing for new fields. Over the past few months, many people had been left unemployed since their businesses were suffering, and they were taking the initiative in hiring them.
(How much of a harvest could they manage before winter?)
That would be the most pressing concern.
While Maomao was sorting through dried cucumber slices, touching each one to separate out the ones that had dried properly, she spotted a figure hurrying toward her along the mansion's covered walkway.
"Maomao-sama!"
It was Tororan. Maomao was surprised to hear an honorific attached to her name, but while she had caught sight of Tororan before, this was their first time meeting face to face.
"Pardon the intrusion, Riho-sama as well."
"Um, you're Tororan, right? I'm just a bodyguard, so it makes things awkward when you use honorifics."
Riho had said everything Maomao wanted to say.
"Not at all. I'm quite ignorant of politics, and the work I'm doing now still amounts to running errands — I'm nothing more than a sheltered fool. Maomao-sama, I hear that despite being a woman, you have served as a medical practitioner for several years already. Riho-sama, I understand you came to the Western Capital this time on the Moon Lord's appointment. I cannot be discourteous to people worthy of my respect. This is a matter of proper conduct."
Tororan let out a snort, his nostrils flaring wide. His eyes really were sparkling with genuine earnestness — he didn't seem to be lying at all.
(Correcting him would be such a hassle.)
So Maomao decided to just let it go.
"Well then, Tororan-sama. Is there something you need from us?"
"Yes. I've been entrusted with documents from the Moon Lord.
Doctor Yo,
and
Doctor Li's
copies as well. The Moon Lord wishes to hear your views as medical practitioners — could you take a look?"
Maomao opened the sheepskin parchment that had been handed to her.
It was written with a Western pen,
and the handwriting was different from Jinshi's. Judging by the practiced penmanship, it must have been written by someone from the West — by Tororan himself, perhaps.
(Swelling, bleeding, anemia, diarrhea, vomiting...)
Along with the population figures, the number of people reporting poor health was listed as well.
"These are cases of people suffering from poor health in areas without doctors or apothecaries. They ask that you provide detailed prevention measures and remedies, even if actual treatment isn't possible."
It wasn't uncommon for rural areas to lack doctors or apothecaries. When people fell ill, they resorted to folk remedies, and in the worst cases, they simply had a sorcerer perform a prayer and called it done.
"They'd like the instructions to be as specific as possible. Also, supplies are limited, so it would be appreciated if you could provide several alternatives. In the current Xixi Province, 'not enough' is the default state."
That was a fair point, and Maomao nodded. But this didn't seem like something she could quickly dash off and hand over right here and now.
"Would it be all right if I took some time? I think I could finish by evening. Should I give it to Lady Getsuki?"
"No, I'll come collect it myself this evening."
"But that's really too much trouble..."
If that was the case,
then perhaps Suzume
—she suggested leaving it with her when she happened to pass by.
"No, I'd like to verify it myself."
Tororan refused crisply.
"Actually, since I was the one who proposed this, I'd like to check it over."
"I see."
(She's surprisingly sharp, isn't she.)
Maomao was impressed.
"Also, while I'm at it—is there anything one should be careful about in areas without medical professionals?"
"Even if you ask me that..."
Maomao crossed her arms and thought hard.
"In areas without doctors, superstitions are sometimes taken seriously. I've heard that when a sorcerer is present, they might even drive out a doctor, claiming the doctor is in the way."
This was
Keyou's
personal experience. She recalled that unusually cheerful man, half his face covered in smallpox scars.
«Also, if their stamina is weak, epidemics will start to break out. It would be wise to carefully manage the health of the rotating personnel to ensure they don't unknowingly bring back a disease.»
«I understand.»
There were many other points that could be raised, but the details could be summarized and written out later.
«Well then, thank you for your trouble. I'll be counting on you.»
Toraou gave a slight bow and left.
«Really, they don't look alike at all.»
«They really don't, do they?»
Maomao and Li Bai sighed in unison.
The third son of Gyokuyou did not resemble Gyokuyou. If one were to ask about the second son, he, too, didn't look like her.
The second son,
Hiryuu,
had a neat and proper appearance, the very image of a civil official. The main residence and
the government office
were right next to each other, connected by two direct passages. Being able to reach the office without going outside certainly made security easier.
Perhaps because of the proximity, Hiryuu often brought documents to Jinshi, and Maomao saw him frequently. It might have been a consideration from Risson to have the imperial family spend more time with him. Or perhaps he wanted to push work onto Jinshi; she couldn't tell.
«I've brought the documents.»
He arrived while Maomao and the quack doctor were visiting.
Maomao pulled the quack doctor back to avoid being in the way. Hiryuu greeted Jinshi politely and handed the documents to the vice-commander,
Basen.
The delivered documents were separated into three piles with fasteners.
«The red fastener is for new items, the blue one is for matters requiring reconsideration, and the yellow one contains revisions of previously rejected proposals.»
(Mhm.)
Hiryuu was also excellent in his own way. However, while polite, he wasn't friendly. This, too, was unlike Gyokuyou. Perhaps Gyokuyou's fixation on the eldest son was because the two younger sons were so different.
(It's not so much their facial features as their aura.)
Both Hiryuu and Toraou appeared to be excellent but civil-official types. For now, they were learning as vice-commanders, so it wasn't an issue, but the thought of them standing at the pinnacle of the Western Capital gave Maomao some pause.
(It seemed like Jinshi was planning to head straight home once his lessons were done,)
but Maomao figured that wouldn't be for several years yet.
The eldest son, on the other hand, they met surprisingly early.
"Dad! Dad! Dad!"
Father and son were facing off in the courtyard. Well, it used to be a courtyard—it was half vegetable garden now.
That little brat—or rather,
Gyokuhaku,
or whatever this grandson of Gyokuyou who'd latched onto the man was called. He had a wild, shaggy mane of hair like a lion's, and thick, sun-bronzed arms and legs. A deer pelt—the spoils of a hunt—was wrapped around his waist.
(Ah, he's the spitting image.)
He looked exactly like what Gyokuyou would be if you turned back the clock. The maid attending Gyokuhaku wore a look of barely contained panic.
(Better not get involved.)
Even so, Maomao was curious enough to peek through the window from a distance. The quack doctor and Li Bai felt the same.
"All right, you've been a good boy? Good, good—
souvenir
for you."
The eldest son held out a large traveling sack to Gyokuhaku. Gyokuhaku opened it with an excited expression, and the instant he saw the contents, he burst into tears.
(What was in there?)
Spilling out of the bag was a deer's head.
"Ha ha ha! You're having this for dinner tonight!"
"Scaryyy!"
Gyokuhaku was bawling.
"Sorry, sorry. Sounds like a lot happened while I was away. Anything I should know about?"
"..."
Gyokuhaku whispered something to the eldest son and pointed toward the medical office. The maid's face had gone white.
(This can't be good.)
Maomao's premonition proved correct. The eldest son came striding into the medical office.
"May I help you?"
Standing there, filling the doorway, was Li Bai. Under normal circumstances he was an amiable fellow, but now he wore the sharp-eyed look of a military officer.
"My boy told me what happened. I hear our guest from the capital has been causing quite a stir, so I thought I'd come introduce myself."
Behind his father's back, Gyokuhaku was sticking out his tongue.
(That foul little brat.)
Just as she'd suspected—not a trace of remorse on his face. Maomao narrowed her eyes. The quack doctor was cowering, so she tried to push him toward the back of the room to hide.
"My apologies for the inconvenience. But the locust plague has left the Western Capital in shambles. We've been groping in the dark trying to find some way to turn things around. Or perhaps you'd prefer we simply stand around doing nothing and eat your food for free?"
Li Bai stood well over six feet tall. By contrast, the eldest son was a couple of inches shorter but still well-built. It was no wonder the quack doctor—a scrawny, gelded man—was terrified.
Maomao kept her eyes on the foul brat, wondering if there might be some opportunity to teach him a proper lesson.
(If things turn violent in here, whatever little medicine and supplies we have will be ruined.)
She shot a look at Li Bai, silently urging him to take the fight outside if it came to blows.
"Ha ha, you capital big-shots sure are something. I know better than to tell someone of noble blood how to behave. But when even your underlings are putting on airs like that, it makes us lose face too—you get that?"
"Good heavens. I'm just a low-ranking officer, as you can see. I only follow the orders I'm given. This is the medical officer's workspace, so why don't we step outside and talk it over?"
(Good, that works.)
All Maomao wanted was to avoid having the medical office ransacked. Li Bai understood and moved outside.
(Not fighting would be best, of course.)
The air was already thick enough to spark at a touch.
(Li Bai knows his position.)
Li Bai's job was escort duty. As an escort, if the eldest son laid a hand on someone, he'd have to step in to protect Maomao and the others. But by the same token, he couldn't strike first.
As for the foul brat who'd started this whole mess—
(He's shaking.)
He was clinging to the maid for dear life.
Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to target the quack doctor the way he had last time. Li Bai had two other guards with him besides himself.
(If anything happened, all the guards would pile on together...)
While she was thinking such things, she spotted a shadow fluttering closer.
"
Brother
Chishou!"
Korou came running over. He had indeed said he would come again at dusk.
(Sorry, I haven't finished writing yet.)
The eldest son was apparently named Chishou. It was another word for owl as well, but not one used in a particularly positive sense.
(She won't grab the jewel?)
Maomao found herself thinking that, almost without meaning to.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? A guest has been doing whatever they please. Using our people like servants, apparently."
(Servants, huh.)
True enough, the second and third sons were assigned as adjutants, and from a certain angle, they might well pass for chambermaids.
"Big brother Hiryuu and I asked them to teach us, though."
"Is that so?"
"Also, the one who was rude to the guest was Hayabusa!"
"Oh?"
Chishou glared fiercely at his son. Takahayabusa shrank into himself, tears welling in his eyes.
"He injured the physician here. She won't be able to walk for several days."
"Is that true, Takahayabusa?"
Chishou fixed Takahayabusa with a glare.
"I... I..."
"I don't want to hear excuses."
A low, beast-like growl echoed through the room. The quack doctor was in the back, voice trembling.
Takahayabusa nodded meekly.
Chishō scratched the back of his neck as if thoroughly exasperated, then picked up the pilgrim's bag he had brought as a gift.
"Here."
The bag with the deer head inside rolled to Li Bai's feet, and the deer tumbled out. Its murky, unfocused eyes gazed up at the sky.
"I'm apologizing for my son's rudeness. Let's call it even with this."
With that, Chishō took his leave.
(At least it lived up to the rumors.)
Maomao looked at the deer with its glazed eyes and let out a sigh — if he was going to hand over a deer, he could have at least included the antlers.