The wind howling past was beyond cold — it stung.
Time passes quickly. It was as though nothing in particular had happened since returning to the Western Capital, and the days slipped by unnoticed.
Before she knew it, the new year had begun, and Maomao was twenty-one.
Maomao's life in the Western Capital remained unchanged — she made medicine with the quack doctor in the clinic, grew medicinal herbs in the greenhouse, and occasionally made house calls to Jinshi. That was about all.
If anything could be called a change, it was only this:
"Father! Play with me!"
"Now hold on, Daddy has work to do. Later, all right — Gyoku Hayabusa?"
Chishō was there.
When he traded his bodyguard's garb for proper clothes, he looked remarkably like Gyokuō.
If he resembled her this much, the people who had followed Gyokuō might well rally behind Chishō instead.
In this world, the exterior is far easier to judge than what lies beneath.
(What on earth brought about this change of heart?)
Maomao was only an apothecary, so she couldn't say.
There must have been any number of discussions between Jinshi and the others, though.
"Aaah, excuse me — could you grab that stick over there? My back's been a little itchy."
A large chaise longue had been brought into the clinic.
According to what she'd heard, while Maomao was away, the eccentric strategist had been stopping by from time to time.
The item he'd brought along had simply been left right where it was.
(How on earth did they manage to convince him?)
While Maomao was gone, the quack doctor must have been the one dealing with him the entire time.
The quack doctor's interpersonal skills might actually be the finest in all of Ri.
When it came to someone who could talk even the eccentric strategist into anything, the only person Maomao could think of was her old man.
Lying on the chaise longue was...
Suzume.
It was. Her torso, which had been immobilized, was now free, and the bandage on her right hand had been removed. However, she could only bend her elbow about half as far as before, and her hand could barely move — only her little finger twitched faintly.
Suzume's injuries had been severe. She couldn't work for a while, and
rehabilitation
was why she'd been coming to the medical room ——
(She's practically moved in!)
"Here we go — is this about right? If your back itches, do you want some anti-itch ointment?"
The ragged doctor handed Suzume a stick of just the right size.
"Ah, I'd appreciate that. And while we're at it, I think it's almost time for"
snacks.
"Don't you think?"
"That it is. Today I steamed sweet potatoes and mixed them with honey, then baked them again. I snuck in some goat's milk to give them a smoother texture — how do you like that?"
The ragged doctor's culinary skills had improved for no good reason. It was one of the reasons Suzume kept showing up.
"Doctor, you've really upped your game! This could spark a revolution in the world of Li's potato cuisine!"
Suzume crunched through the potato snacks on the plate.
"Suzume, save some. I'm going to call everyone else."
"Yesss~"
Since Suzume couldn't be trusted when her cheeks were stuffed with snacks, Maomao moved the sweets from the plate to another dish. The ragged doctor was preparing tea, but it had a strong fragrance — probably tea leaves from the Central Capital. She'd been
dandelion
root, roasted and brewed, for so long that this was the first proper tea she'd had in a while.
"You seem to have stabilized quite a bit."
The medical room's supplies were looking more comfortable too. There were still worries about the food situation, but things seemed to have settled down somewhat.
"Oh, speaking of which, we'll be able to go back to the Central Capital before long!"
"Huh?"
"I forgot to mention — eheh, the master specifically asked me to tell Maomao and the others, and I completely forgot!"
Suzume bonked her forehead with her left fist. She closed one eye and stuck out her tongue — but it was the sort of gesture that somehow only made one's blood boil.
"Is Jinshi-sama leaving too?"
"Of course. Well, it would be difficult to stay any longer at this point, and the handover is largely complete. The plan seems to be centering everything on Chishō and thoroughly fortifying his support."
"Can he manage it?"
Honestly, I'm uneasy. He certainly snatches up the good parts, and
he really has the air of a
military governor about him. Compared to his second and third brothers,
his personal
appeal is probably higher, but he spent years as a wayward son. The escort guild's unique intelligence network and military strength could be an asset, but there are still major gaps.
"If he can't, that's a problem. Chishō will need to become the military governor of the western capital."
(A military governor, huh.)
Now that I think about it,
Gyokuō
may have taught Chishō the art of statecraft alone among all her sons because she saw in him the image of her ideal military governor.
"His head isn't bad. He was originally trained to become the western region's leader, and running the escort agency is also, in a sense, training in commanding people."
"But he's somehow missing something — or perhaps too soft."
His personality is the complete opposite of what his name suggests. No matter how hard he tries to seem tough, there's always something soft about him.
"That's right. That's exactly why they plan to shore up his surroundings."
"Because the people around him can't be trusted?"
At Maomao's question, Suzume smiled and sipped her tea.
The second brother,
Hiryū,
has no trouble supporting his older brother, it seems,
and there's Rokuson as well.
Plus — though it may surprise you — Chishō is actually popular with the uncles."
"The uncles? Didn't he fight with an uncle who's the same age as him?"
"They get along well enough to fight with each other. He's probably the type of ambitious man who wouldn't hesitate to stage a coup from below if the second or third son tried to claim the inheritance.
Your young
uncles."
It was the kind of dynamic between men that looked exhausting.
"Also, for a while, as part of the cleanup,
Lu
Shirō will be staying behind as well."
"Wasn't he from the Ministry of Rites? What's the use of someone from the ceremonial affairs department sticking around?"
"Lu Shirō has been shuffled through various departments, so he's resourceful in a good way — and resourcefully mediocre in a bad way. He can handle anything, so he should be able to keep things running smoothly."
"Almost like
Brother
Rahan."
Still, Maomao thought, at least she could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
"Can we go back to the capital?"
There had even been moments when she feared she might end up buried in this western land for good. Maomao let out a deep breath of relief.
"
Li Bai
I think you already know him. You probably don't know Brother Rahan though. There are plenty of preparations to make, so please fill him in on everything."
"Understood."
Brother Rahan was in the field that had been carved out of the main residence's garden. He was growing the wheat he'd risked his life to bring back from the locust plague.
Maomao left the medical office to find Brother Rahan.
Brother Rahan was crab-walking through the field. It looked like he was trampling the wheat.
"Rahan..."
Just as she was about to call out to him, Maomao noticed a child at the edge of her vision.
When she looked to see who it was, there was Tamahayabusa and—
Kohaku.
It was.
(Are they bullying someone again?)
Maomao had grown quite protective of Kohaku lately. So she considered giving the cheeky little bully a good wallop.
But something seemed off.
While Tamahayabusa was puffing himself up and throwing his weight around, Kohaku stood there with her eyes narrowed in a look of weary exasperation. It was an expression Maomao felt she had seen somewhere before.
"Hey, are you even listening?"
Tamahayabusa grabbed Kohaku by the collar. But—
A sharp, satisfying crack rang out.
Before anyone could register what had happened, Kohaku's open palm had slammed squarely into Tamahayabusa's cheek.
"Wh-what do you think you're doing?! Aren't you scared of me?!"
The stunned Tamahayabusa toppled onto his rear, clutching his slapped cheek.
"I'm not scared."
Kohaku's expression didn't change as she looked down at Tamahayabusa.
"Do you even understand?! My father is going to be the chief of the Western Capital!"
"So what if Uncle Shikyou becomes chief? Even if he scolded me, he wouldn't kick me out."
"After my father, I'll be the chief! I'll kick you out, just you watch!"
"Fufu."
The expressionless Kohaku laughed.
"What's so funny?!"
"Well, if someone like you is going to be chief... I just thought I could head to the Central Capital and aim even higher."
Kohaku walked away from Tamahayabusa as if nothing had happened.
Tamahayabusa, defeated by a girl younger than him, flailed on the ground with tears and snot running down his face.
(She felt someone's gaze.)
When Maomao quietly looked behind her, Ra-han was watching.
"What did you teach that girl, huh?"
Ra-han stares at him with suspicious eyes.
"No, I didn't teach her anything."
"Nothing, my foot! She looks exactly like you now! She was supposed to be a much shyer, cuter kid!"
"That's a misunderstanding!"
No matter how much Maomao tried to explain, Ra-han refused to believe him.