Maomao and Xiao Hong were led to a meeting hall where the women gathered. Pillows and futons lined the walls, making it clear they were made to sleep and rise here as a group. A rough-looking man stood guard in front of the hall.
(So that's how it is.)
The townspeople appeared to be under the thumb of the bandits.
The women seemed to be held as hostages of sorts.
Had that earlier "I'm sorry" been an apology directed at Xiao Hong, who had nothing to do with any of this?
No—the townspeople were victims too. What it all meant, Maomao still couldn't tell.
"Oh my. New arrivals, are you?"
They were led to a stout, middle-aged woman.
The woman looked Maomao and Xiao Hong up and down as if appraising them.
"You're both skinny little things. Any use to you? I suppose the teacher brought you here?"
"Yes. We share the same faith."
The woman who had brought them said.
(The old man from earlier was the teacher?)
A teacher, or perhaps someone affiliated with the church.
In that case, he wasn't a bandit but one of the townspeople.
(In other words, the townspeople are cooperating with the bandits—or being made to.)
Then the earlier woman's apology made sense too.
The plump middle-aged woman looked at Maomao.
"You there, sorry but take off everything you're wearing. There are only women in this room. Strip quick and change quick."
"...Understood."
Maomao, unbothered, began briskly peeling off her clothes.
It was all women here, and she'd grown used to physical examinations every time she entered the Inner Palace.
If there was a problem, though—
"What's this?"
"That's a hemostatic."
"What's this?"
"That's an antipyretic."
"What's this?"
"That's a cough suppressant."
The middle-aged woman looked on in amazement as medicinal herb bundles kept appearing from Maomao's clothes.
"What's this?"
"...That's an aphrodisiac."
She finally produced the bottle that the female mercenary had given her.
(In a sense, an aphrodisiac.)
Poisonous snake tastes good when steeped in sake.
"You... who are you?"
"I'm an apothecary."
Maomao answered honestly, since there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. With her makeup gone, she'd decide later how far she could stretch the mother-daughter charade.
"An apothecary, huh? Then keep these medicines properly. Those brutes wouldn't know what to do with them anyway and would just throw them away."
"Thank you very much."
Though the middle-aged woman seemed cold, she didn't seem to be a bad person at heart. Of course, there might also be a sense of camaraderie from being in the same教.
(They're not heathens, but it's better not to get caught.)
Maomao came to this conclusion.
"I'll wash your clothes, so you might as well change while you're at it. Can you do your own laundry?"
"Yes. And excuse me for asking on top of that, but we won't be able to collect the luggage from the carriage we were riding in, will we?"
"Nope. Is there something important in there?"
"No, I just had my favorite scripture in there. I was in the middle of teaching this child..."
Xiaohong clung to Maomao at that point.
(Improvising nicely, this one.)
It might just be Maomao's own imagining, but she felt she could get along with Xiaohong just fine.
"The teachings, is it? Well, that can't be helped. I'll ask the teacher on your behalf."
The middle-aged woman accepted readily.
Maomao was relieved.
The clothes given to them were plain but sturdy wool garments. The cotton-cloth clothes they'd been wearing until recently would have stood out in town. Hiring caravan guards as a noble lady was one thing, but being treated as half a prisoner, this look suited them far better.
"Well then, I have other work to do, so go get your assignments from those kids over there."
"Understood."
Maomao bowed politely.
"Listen — if you don't work here, you'll be disposed of immediately. If you want to survive, swallow your pride and work hard."
As if pressing the point, the woman said this, and Maomao and Xiaohong nodded repeatedly.
"Oh,
Xiongxiong
is that right? And your daughter is
Xiaolang
? Those are some awfully rough-sounding names!"
The one who spoke so sociably was the other woman who had been pouring drinks for the Cyclops earlier. She was tanned and looked a little mature, but she was only seventeen. She already had a three-year-old, and she was convinced there would be no problem if Maomao and Xiaohong said they were mother and daughter.
The aliases had been used to conceal Xiaohong's true identity. Judging from the Cyclops' behavior the day before, it seemed he held a grudge against
Chixiao
. She feared the moment Xiaohong would be recognized as Chixiao's niece.
"Yes. In our family line, girls are given strong names so they can overcome illness."
Maomao peeled vegetables while lying as effortlessly as breathing out. For now, her slight build had been judged unsuitable for heavy labor, and she'd been assigned to help with cooking. Maomao peeled skins while Xiaohong washed the vegetables in water. Having a water source nearby meant they could use water more freely than other places.
What Maomao was peeling now were potatoes. A vegetable that triggered far too much déjà vu.
"It's uncomfortable, but hang in there. At least we're not being killed."
The talkative girl peeled alongside her and chatted about the town.
Ever since the locust plague hit, the town's visitors had plummeted. People who'd been driven to desperation joined bandit ranks, expanding their forces. And then, about a month ago, a no-good leader arrived and took control of the town.
The town had soldiers dispatched from the Western Capital, but every last one of them had been killed.
(A month, huh.)
That meant the Western Capital still hadn't received any reports. The situation was far worse than expected.
"The strong fighters among the townspeople rose up against the bandits, but they were all killed. The boss calls himself the One-Eyed Dragon — full of bravado. He's not too bright, but when it comes to raw strength, he's something else entirely. That's why nobody could stand up to him, and the elder offered to negotiate."
And so, the town's current system had been established.
(It won't last.)
Did the so-called elder understand that? With no way out, was he merely praying for his own survival?
Maomao placed the peeled potatoes into a bucket, her doubts lingering.
"Where should I throw the peels?"
"We don't throw the peels away. We fry them up — they become meals for the remaining heretics."
The girl's expression was thoroughly uncomfortable.
"Thank goodness KumaKuma and the others are of the same faith. If they'd been heretics, things would have been terrible."
"What do you mean?"
Maomao asked as calmly as she could manage.
"The One-Eyed Dragon was planning to cut the townspeople in half. But the elder gathered everyone and promised they'd all work, so the boss agreed to spare them. But..."
A tear slipped from the girl's eye.
"The One-Eyed Dragon said fine, he'd cut them to a half of a half. He said he'd leave the sorting to the elder..."
And so the so-called elder began selecting the heretics.
"There were even little children. Kids who used to play with mine... Anyone who couldn't be used as labor..."
The girl's voice broke into a sob.
Maomao looked around. She was afraid the guards would think she wasn't working.
"I understand. I'm sorry for making you relive such painful things."
Maomao patted the girl on the back and gritted her back teeth, wondering if there was any way to do something about that detestable One-Eyed Dragon.