The Sexual Harassment Chapter
One could say that a residence takes on the color of its master.
Gyokuyou
the lady's
Verdant Palace
was homey and warm,
Rifa
the lady's
Crystal Palace
was elegantly refined.
And
Ada
the lady's residence,
the Pomegranate Palace,
was practical.
The spare, efficient design shunned excessive ornamentation, which in turn cultivated a kind of refined elegance.
Lady Ada herself was precisely that sort of person.
Her form, stripped of all excess, had no glamour, no voluptuousness, no endearing softness. Yet what remained in its place was an androgynous dignity and beauty.
(Is this what thirty-five looks like?)
Dressed in official robes, she could easily be mistaken for a young civil official. In this inner palace where only ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs resided, she must have been the envy of every attendant.
Jinshi,
on the other hand, possessed a different sort of charm entirely.
She hadn't seen what he'd worn at the banquet, but the wide-sleeved robe and
the trailing skirt he was wearing now
He'd probably look better in horse-riding clothes than in that wide-sleeved robe and trailing skirt.
Maomao
was given a tour of the palace together with two other court ladies.
The head lady-in-waiting,
Fuumei,
was an affable, full-figured beauty who briskly explained the layout of the residence.
The year-end deep cleaning had left them short-handed — that was the reason she'd been summoned.
(Is she injured?)
Maomao caught a glimpse of bandages wrapped around Fuumei's left arm.
Maomao herself wore bandages on her left arm as well. She'd grown tired of the careful, averted glances people gave her every time they spotted her old scars.
She left the heavy lifting to the eunuchs and spent the rest of the day airing out furnishings and books — and that was her day done.
As befitting the residence that had occupied the rear palace the longest, it had far more belongings than the Jade Pavilion.
The Jade Pavilion
she did not return to,
instead at the Pomegranate Palace,
she slept in the large common room together with the two remaining maids. The animal furs they'd been given because of the cold were wonderfully warm.
(No one had told her what to do.)
Maomao simply followed the head lady-in-waiting's instructions and threw herself into tidying up.
The plump head lady-in-waiting praised her so happily that Maomao couldn't slack off even if she'd wanted to.
A woman who worked with such evident joy — if you were to picture an ideal wife, she would surely be it. That was Fuumei, the lady-in-waiting.
It felt like she'd done a proper day's work for the first time in a while.
Curled up like a cat, she was soon fast asleep, soft breaths escaping her lips.
(Was there really a mastermind behind the poisoning scandal?)
The maids of the Jade Pavilion were hard workers, but she had to admit the maids of the Pomegranate Palace were equally capable.
Every last one of them,
Ada
She was devoted to the consort, and thus carried out her duties with meticulous care.
In particular, Fuumei, the head maid, was worthy of admiration.
Never confining herself to the role of a mere maid,
whenever she spotted dust,
she would grab a rag and clean it up herself.
One would never take her for a head maid serving a high-ranking consort. Even the hardworking
Hongniang
would leave such tasks to the other maids.
(I wish I could show this to those hollow-mouthed
Crystal Palace
maids.)
It seemed that
Rifa
Consort was simply not blessed with capable maids. The reason she had so many superfluous attendants around her was that each one had very little to do. And yet, they were all so full of hot air that they were nothing but a nuisance.
Well, shouldering all of that single-handedly could be considered a talent in its own right for someone in a leadership position.
However, strong loyalty could also serve as a motive for poisoning.
The reason she was about to be removed from the position of Fourth Consort was that a high-ranking official was trying to get his own daughter admitted to the palace.
If she were to be replaced, it would be by Consort Ada, but what would happen if one of the other high-ranking consorts' positions opened up?
Gyokuyou
Consort and
Rifa
Consort aside, perhaps
Risu
Consort's chambers were not ones the Emperor frequented.
(Because I like them plump.)
Risu had not been fulfilling her role as consort, either.
For the young Risu, that was probably for the best. Even if she had reached marriageable age, becoming pregnant and giving birth at the counted age of fourteen would put considerable strain on her body. The proceedings themselves would be quite harsh as well. Well, when it came to this particular point, it was too painful to consider how things had been during the previous Emperor's reign, so she would leave that alone.
If someone wanted to cause a miscarriage, targeting Risu would not be unreasonable.
While tidying the kitchen shelves,
Maomao
let her thoughts wander.
Looking at the shelf, she saw a great number of small jars lined up. A sweet scent tickled her nose.
"What should we do with these?"
"Oh, those. Wipe down the shelf and put them back where they were, please."
She asked the maid who was cleaning the kitchen alongside her. The maids who had come to help yesterday should be cleaning the bath and the sitting room, respectively.
"Are these all honey?"
"Yes. I hear Lady Fuumei's family keeps bees."
"That explains it."
Honey was a luxury item. Having several varieties when one would suffice — that was what it meant. When she checked the contents, the colors differed: amber, reddish-brown, dark brown. Different flowers yielded different flavors.
(Hmm?)
When it came to honey, something nagged at her.
She felt like she had heard something about it recently.
"Once you're done, could you go wipe the
railing
on the second floor? The cleaning girls always forget about it."
"Understood."
Maomao put the honey away, grabbed a rag, and headed upstairs.
(Honey, honey...)
As she carefully wiped each railing pillar one by one, she tried to organize her thoughts.
Recapping recent events.
(!?)
From the second floor, you could see outside clearly. Thinking she was hidden,
Pomegranate Palace
she could make out a figure keeping watch on it.
(Lady Risu?)
Why had she come to a place like this, bringing only one of her taster daughters?
Maomao simply couldn't make sense of it.
(Honey...)
A tea party from a few days ago resurfaced in her memory.
Why was Lady Risu so averse to honey?
Still, that fact nagged at her for some reason.
Jade Palace
borrowing a reception room in,
Maomao
was
to
Jinshi
giving her report about
Pomegranate Palace.
"So, that's to say, I didn't understand a single thing."
What she didn't understand, she didn't understand.
Maomao neither underestimated nor overestimated herself.
She had honestly reported everything to the beautiful eunuch.
This was the result of three days spent inside Pomegranate Palace.
Jinshi
was lounging elegantly on a long chair,
enjoying tea with a sweet, exotic fragrance.
He squeezed in lemon
and stirred in honey.
"I see. That's right."
"Yes, exactly."
Lately, the beautiful eunuch hadn't been as sparkling as before, which was fine, but his tone of voice felt strangely light.
The sweetness had left his voice, and perhaps that was why he felt more like a boy.
She didn't know what he wanted from
Maomao, but she was simply
an ordinary
apothecary.
There was no way she could pretend to be
a spy.
"Then, let me change the question. If there were someone using a special method to communicate with the outside, who do you think it would be?"
(Another unpleasant way of asking a question.)
Maomao didn't like voicing thoughts without basis.
This was from the teaching of not speaking on speculation.
Maomao closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
If she didn't calm down, she might end up looking at the heavenly beauty of a young man as if he were a squashed frog again.
As always,
Gaoshun
was desperately trying to communicate something with his eyes.
"This is just a matter of possibility, but if there were someone, I think it would be the head lady-in-waiting, Fuumei."
"What's your basis for saying that?"
"Her left arm was wrapped in bandages. When I happened to see her rewrapping them, I could see burn marks."
This was about the earlier incident with the wooden tablet soaked in medicinal solution. She'd realized that if it held any meaning, it was probably a code, but she hadn't voiced the thought.
Since the burned sleeve had been wrapped around the wooden tablet, it was possible that whoever was responsible had burned their arm. Needless to say, Jinshi had probably investigated the matter. And then he'd had Maomao...
...spy.
...or something close to it.
Honestly, that gentle head lady-in-waiting didn't seem like she was up to anything, but that was nothing more than Maomao's subjective impression. Without looking at things objectively, one could never arrive at the truth.
"Well, that's a passing grade, I suppose."
Jinshi suddenly let his gaze drift to
the long table,
where a small bottle sat. He then turned toward Maomao, a honey-sweet smile spreading across his face.
Beneath the thin skin of that smile, she sensed
something squirming
within.
Maomao's entire body bristled in an instant.
She had a terrible feeling about this.
He picked up the small bottle and headed toward her.
"I have to give a reward to good girls, you know."
"I'll pass."
"There's no need to be so modest."
"I'm quite all right, so please, direct your attention elsewhere."
She shot him a look that could kill, silently demanding he cut it out, but he showed no sign of backing down.
He closed the distance between them, inch by inch. After retreating half-step by half-step, her back hit the wall.
She looked to Gaoshun for help, but the taciturn attendant was sitting by the window, gazing at a bird in flight. His composure was almost annoying.
(I'll slip him a laxative later.)
Jinshi wore
an entrancing
smile as he dipped his finger into the small bottle. The fingertip was coated generously with honey.
This bordered on harassment.
"You don't like sweets?"
"I prefer spicy food."
"But you can eat it, right?"
He showed no intention of stopping, bringing his fingertip closer to Maomao's mouth.
He gazed at Maomao's glaring eyes with a dreamy expression.
(Come to think of it, that's
the kind of
person he is.)
Should she just accept this as an order and take it in her mouth, or
try to preserve her
dignity by finding some way to escape?
(If only it were
aconite
honey, she could've at least rationalized it.)
Honey from a poisonous flower was still poison. Mixed with honey, it would cause food poisoning.
Wait—something clicked in Maomao's mind.
She wanted to organize her thoughts, but the pervert kept persistently thrusting his finger forward, making it impossible to think about anything.
Just as the fingertip was about to enter her mouth—
"What are you doing to
my
maidservant?"
Gyokuyou stood with a displeased expression on her face.
Behind her, holding her head in her hands,
Hongniang
was there.