"There's no way I'm going to something like that."
Maomao
had flatly refused the request to come along to "a gathering of named families"
from Bashin.
She refused outright—
But having refused—
"Sister, want to go out with me next time?"
"Sister, there's a fun banquet."
"Sister, there's a good business opportunity."
Letters from Rahan
had been arriving daily.
(What is he scheming?!)
"Did another letter arrive?"
Chousha
came by. Chousha lived in the dormitory just like Maomao. Their colleague
Yu
had family, so she didn't live in the dormitory.
Chousha was a farmer's daughter whose grandmother was a curse practitioner. Small like Maomao but hardworking, recently they'd been taking turns making
the evening
side dishes.
En'en's
cooking was beyond them, but the simple flavors weren't bad.
"Here. You can use this as kindling."
"I feel kinda bad about that."
As she said this, Chousha placed them in the box near the stove. The fire was already going and a pot was set upon it.
"What's for today?"
"Pork and potato stew. How about you, Maomao?"
"I bought some
steamed rolls
on the way."
"Want me to cut them?"
"Please do."
Maomao cut slits in the steamed rolls with a knife and stuffed stewed pork between the pieces.
"It needs more color."
Maomao stepped out into the dormitory garden. The caretaker grew vegetables there, and you could get some if you asked.
So Maomao went and
harvested
some lettuce.
"It's already
bolted
quite a bit, though."
The caretaker must have planted at the wrong time, because the yield wasn't great. It would have been tastier during a cooler season, but she wasn't about to be picky.
She tucked the harvested leafy greens between the steamed rolls. The savoriness of the meat soaked into the dough, and the lettuce added a crisp, refreshing bite.
The reason she put everything inside the rolls instead of on a plate was that she didn't want to do extra dishes. Yan Yan would have nitpicked about it, but Chousha hadn't been raised all that properly, so she cut corners wherever she could.
They finished eating without much conversation and began preparing for the bath. Fortunately the dormitory had a tub, but unlike the rear palace, they had to heat the water themselves. She swapped out the stew pot for a large stockpot and filled it with water. Since it took multiple rounds of boiling to fill the tub, they settled for about a third of the depth.
"How warm should it be?"
"Hot water to cold, one to three."
"Understood."
Chousha carried water from the bucket. They used pre-drawn water because well water straight from the source was too cold. Maomao had drawn water from the well earlier and added it to the bucket.
Honestly, it was a pain. None of the people living in the other dorms bothered to fill the bathtub. The reason Maomao and the others did it was,
Liu
because the medical officer told them to bathe every day.
"What a hassle."
"When you don't feel like it, shall we go to the bathhouse instead?"
"Yes."
The two of them prepared the bath together, but Maomao went in first. It didn't really matter who went first, but she figured she should show some deference to her senior—otherwise even Chousha would feel uncomfortable.
She had just laid out her underclothes and nightwear and was about to step into the bath when—
"Is Maomao here?"
Hearing that familiar voice, she looked up and—
Yao
and En'en were there.
"She is, but we're just about to take a bath."
Chousha answered on her behalf.
Maomao set down her change of clothes.
"What brings you here?"
Their belongings were already gone from the dormitory.
"We have a small favor to ask."
(Rahan again?)
Honestly, it was a pain, but one way or another, Maomao was always weak when it came to women.
"Go ahead and start without me."
Worried the bathwater would go cold, she ushered Chousha into the bathroom.
The groundskeeper didn't particularly like outsiders wandering in, but Yao and En'en were familiar faces, so there shouldn't be any problem. En'en had come prepared, bringing along a gift of the groundskeeper's favorite treats. Thorough as always.
"What can I do for you?"
"Maomao, have you ever heard of the gathering of the named?"
"..."
She gently averts her gaze from Yao.
"I see you do."
"You know about it."
She glances at Yao and Yan Yan's expressions.
Yao looks her usual self, while Yan Yan wears an expression of resignation mixed with something close to pleading.
(It involves Raban.)
Maomao is certain.
"I'd like to go too, but of course I'm not qualified. So I was hoping to go as Maomao's escort."
"I was wondering, though — since it's a gathering of the named, is it really alright to just bring whoever you please?"
"It's not so formal as all that. It's more of a meet-and-greet. It's a good opportunity to build new connections, so people do sometimes bring along someone they'd like to introduce."
Yan Yan really is well-informed, as expected of someone with her connections.
"I personally have no intention of going, so I'd appreciate it if you'd try elsewhere."
"I already asked Raban, but he said it was no good."
"Hm?"
She had assumed Raban was the one they were after, but that didn't seem to be quite the case.
"Why do you want to go? Are you looking to build connections?"
"Quite the opposite, quite the opposite."
Yao slaps a bundle of letters down onto the table.
A thick, cloying scent of incense wafts through the air.
"Could those be... love letters?"
"They are!"
Even by love letter standards, these were in poor taste. The incense, the heaviness of the fragrance — everything about them was off. Maomao found herself freshly reminded of just how refined the letters she normally received were.
"I may look inside?"
"Be my guest."
Maomao looked inside. Honestly, she thought reading someone else's love letter was rude, but the unusually strong scent of perfume gave her a bad feeling.
"Ugh."
"Ugh, yeah."
Yao's voice was exasperated.
Enen nodded as well.
A love letter was typically adorned with passages praising the recipient. But this writer went on and on about how capable he was and what distinguished family he came from. Having confidence in oneself wasn't a bad thing, but this was pure narcissism. On top of that, his handwriting was suspiciously neat, making it highly likely he'd hired someone to write it for him.
"I cannot have this brought to me every single day."
Enen directed a look of utter contempt at the love letter. She'd really put up with that for a long time, Maomao reminisced fondly.
"He shows up while I'm at work, and even after other medical officers chase him away, he doesn't give up. On top of that, he's started telling his family that I'm already willingly seeing him—"
It seemed quite a lot had happened while Maomao had been transferred to another medical office.
"Wow, that's seriously bad."
"Don't say that so casually."
Enen glared at Maomao.
"Yes. And what's more, he says he's going to go speak with Mother about it. I never imagined Uncle's absence would work against us like this."
"Yao's mother can be a bit naive about the ways of the world."
"If she gets sweet-talked, both families would officially recognize the marriage, wouldn't they?"
"In that case, Uncle's approach—at least involving a formal matchmaking meeting—would be far better."
At the very least, Yao's uncle had been thoughtful enough to carefully select a match on his niece's behalf.
"So when you said you wanted to attend the gathering of titled families—the love letter is from someone of a titled clan, and you want to go directly to the clan head to plead your case."
"Yes!"
(Reckless, far too reckless.)
Maomao finally understood the reason behind Enen's expression.
True, the man who wrote the love letter was hopeless. However, in a world where men were respected—
---
—then that hopeless man's actions could very well force Yao into marriage against her will.
Nevertheless, one has to wonder about the wisdom of suddenly going to confront a distinguished clan directly.
Maomao read Yanyan's expression. Yanyan seemed to be appealing to her about something.
(Are you telling me to go?)
She idly wondered why.
(Might she be trying to drag that oddball strategist along?)
If that happened, things would become an utter mess.
(Alright, I'll refuse.)
The very moment she thought that—
"I found this at a bookstore."
Yao extended a thick reference book. It was illustrated with medicinal herbs.
"I accept!"
Maomao snatched the book without hesitation.