Being Jostled by the Carriage
One o'clock
.
There was a large estate not far from the capital.
"That over there is
Ushi's
villa."
Rohan
explained in an irritable tone. At this point, all they could see was a solitary building in the distance. A river and forest lay nearby, and a farming village was visible as well.
"Huh."
Maomao
answered, looking disinterested. She had gotten up early that morning and was honestly sleepy. Still, the location did look promising when it came to food, so she held onto that hope.
"It all started when the head of the Ushi clan suggested long ago that everyone should get together once in a while for tea. That's how these meetings of the named families began. And so, the Ushi clan, who started it all, ends up running things every time."
"What a terrible burden for the descendants."
"According to the records, they used to hold it every year, but starting a few decades ago it became every other year, and now it's held once every five years."
The budget must indeed be tight.
"I'm truly glad it wasn't our turn. That said, this is my first time participating too."
Rohan gazed out the carriage window. There were three carriages in total, each carrying two passengers.
"I wonder if the front carriage is all right."
"Of course it is. If you're that worried, you and that old man should've ridden together."
Maomao made a face of exasperation.
The eccentric strategist had also ended up attending this meeting. There had been all sorts of complications along the way, but for now, Maomao would endure it for the sake of the illustrated reference.
In the rear carriage,
Yao
and
Yan Yan
were riding along. There had been all sorts of fuss about these two tagging along as well.
That left the question of who, exactly, was keeping the eccentric strategist company.
The answer was—.
"Rahān-bro, when did you get back?"
"Mm, I got back a while ago."
"Were you not angry?"
Maomao felt extremely awkward about it.
"Is there ever a day when you're not angry, brother?"
"I suppose not."
Even if Rahān-bro was angry, she'd find some way to weasel out of it.
The mansion was certainly grand. Several carriages were parked out front.
(Grand, sure, but…)
Maomao still had her frugal habits, yet her eye had become strangely refined over time. She couldn't help but compare everything to where royalty lived.
So rather than evaluating a residence based on how lavish it was, the focus shifted to how tasteful it was.
Passing through the gate, there was a stone-paved path. Beyond it lay the main entrance, with gardens spreading out on either side.
(The building itself is old. But it's been carefully maintained, so it doesn't look the least bit decrepit.)
The mansion was very spacious—perhaps it had been built to accommodate gatherings. Similar-looking rooms were lined up in a row, each apparently being used to escort guests. There were no gaudy decorations, but the craftsmanship on the pillars and walls was finely detailed. There was no excess furniture, and the ventilation was excellent. It seemed to have been designed with comfort as the priority.
The bamboo grove in the garden also contributed to the refined atmosphere. Bamboo was far more prolific than it appeared—if left alone, shoots would sprout everywhere and even burst up through the floorboards.
The garden was divided into sections by season, and
crape myrtle
flowers were in magnificent bloom. When one thought of summer flowers, roses came to mind, but seeing none here, it was clear that they had been planted with consideration for the overall harmony of the space rather than individual blooms.
"Hey, Maomao!"
The eccentric strategist climbed down from his carriage and came over to where Maomao was.
Maomao made a exasperated face but placed Raban between them as a buffer, silently signaling for the man to come no closer.
Behind the eccentric strategist stood Raban's older brother. The brother stared at Maomao for a moment, then turned his face away with a huff.
(He's angry.)
Though, should I point out that the gesture was so childishly petulant that it wasn't the least bit frightening?
"Come, come, let's be on our way. Apparently they've already prepared rooms for us."
Raban clapped his hands and guided everyone along. The three coachmen doubled as guards, and all three were burly fellows. Perhaps
Number Three
might be coming too, which made Maomao's blood run cold, but even Raban wouldn't go so far as to add more fuel to the fire. Besides, if even Number Three were to disappear, there would be no one left to manage the estate in the capital.
"We're not kids, you know."
Raban's brother grumbled. But, Maomao thought, when there are creatures out there with the mental age of children, there's only so much you can do.
At the entrance of the estate, servants lined up in rows on either side, bowing their heads.
"Welcome, welcome!"
A portly, genial old man came out to greet them. He must have easily weighed thirty kan, and his cheeks gleamed with a healthy shine.
"Well now, the Raban clan joining the gathering. According to our records, this is the first time in twenty years! I am
Ushiki.
I've already passed the role of clan head on to my son and retired, but I'm still active enough to host you all, so please bear with me."
The old man, Ushiki, extended his hand toward Rakhan. But Rakhan was busy gazing blankly at the estate while picking his ear.
"Thank you for having us. I've heard that my grandfather attended several times in his day. I look forward to spending a pleasant and fruitful time with everyone."
Raban stepped in and shook the old man's hand instead.
"Haha.
Rakhan
is quite the bird, isn't he?"
The old man didn't seem bothered in the slightest, skipping over Rakhan to seek a handshake from Raban's brother. He came before Maomao and the others to greet them politely, though he did not go so far as to shake their hands.
"I would love nothing more than to shake hands with you lovely young ladies, but I can't exactly invite unwarranted jealousy. Regrettably, I shall have to pass."
Ushiki's ancestors must have been quite the charmers, because their descendants had clearly inherited the gift of the gab.
"Now then, a lounge has been prepared for you. Please enjoy yourselves at your leisure this evening."
Maomao and the others were led by a servant.
The long corridor offered a clear view of the garden. Other guests were already there.
The gazebo.
Some were enjoying tea underneath it, while others fed the koi in the pond.
Perhaps noticing Maomao and the others crossing the corridor, they turned this way—but when one among them turned deathly pale and ducked behind a pillar of the gazebo, Maomao figured it had to be either the eccentric strategist who spent his days chasing fluttering butterflies with vacant eyes, or Rahan with his unnervingly plastered-on grin. It had to be one of them.
"Yao."
Maomao glanced at Yao.
"Wh-what?"
"I understand you're anxious, but could you please stop gripping my arm so tightly?"
(She's scared of En'en.)
"Ah—"
Yao hastily let go of Maomao's arm. She had been clinging to it ever since they entered the estate.
Yao walked on with a sheepish look on her face. She must have been nervous in her own way.
(At the very least, this eccentric certainly served as a deterrent.)
The smelly plants were the kind that repelled insects, making them perfect as insect repellents—provided one could tolerate the stench.
The servant marched steadily down the corridor, passing by a series of identical doors that appeared to be guest rooms, before guiding them to a separate building.
"This way, please."
"These would be our rooms?"
There were plenty of rooms, but the treatment felt different from what the other families received.
"A separate building, huh? That means Father-in-law can sing and dance to his heart's content without bothering anyone, and if there's a fire, it won't spread to the main house."
Rahan's assumptions were alarmingly far-fetched, but they couldn't be dismissed entirely. This was a man who had once tried to blow up the rear palace.
Inside the separate building, there were three rooms.
"I want the same room as Maomao."
The old man lounged on the sofa, making himself as comfortable as if he were in his own home.
"Father is the eldest, so he gets a room to himself."
The old man slumped in disappointment at being told so flatly. Luo Ban's older brother looked around the secondary residence with wandering eyes.
"Would it be acceptable for the women to share the largest room, three of them?"
"Sure."
There were no rooms for the three guards, but the sitting room was spacious, so that should be fine.
Maomao and the others carried their belongings to the room they'd been assigned. Inside were three beds, set up so they could stay overnight.
(This is basically an overnight stay, huh.)
Maomao hoped things would wrap up quickly, but that didn't seem likely.
"You say it's a gathering, but it sounds pretty casual."
"There's a banquet at noon in the main hall. You should get ready."
En'en pulled Yao's clothes from the luggage. Cosmetics were fully stocked too, and heavy-looking hairpins clattered out.
"En'en, I have a question."
Maomao raised her hand.
"What is it, Maomao?"
"You seem awfully enthusiastic about this."
"Of course. I get to present Lady Yao to the finest families. I can't afford any shortcomings."
"Oh, does it really matter what I wear? I had to check dozens of outfits since last night, and it was exhausting."
Yao was thoroughly fed up.
En'en was an outstanding lady's maid, but there was one thing she overlooked.
"If Yao gets all dressed up, won't that just attract even more suitors?"
The whole point was supposed to be turning down marriage proposals. Dressing her up to look like some nobleman's lady would just draw different kinds of insects.
"..."
En'en looked back and forth between Yao and the clothes, looking troubled. En'en was excellent, but when it came to Yao, she got a bit foolish. After much deliberation, she removed one hairpin from the pile meant to adorn the young lady.
"You should dress up a bit too, Maomao. Wearing that worn-out everyday outfit in pale green is embarrassing when we're walking together."
"This is comfortable to wear, though."
Maomao suddenly realized something. The kindly old man from earlier hadn't greeted the three bodyguards, but he had greeted Maomao and her two companions. He hadn't seen Maomao as just a servant girl.
(Maybe he's not just some flatterer after all)
Maomao stroked her chin thoughtfully.
"We've also prepared clothes for you, Maomao. The reason you showed up in your usual outfit must be so you could say, 'As you can see, I'm not dressed for company. Please go enjoy the banquet without me,' and then hole yourself up in your room."
"..."
At Yan Yan's words, Maomao fell silent.
"Now then, time is getting on, so let's get ready, shall we?"
Yan Yan pressed the clothes into Maomao's hands, then went to help Yao change.
"What a pain."
Maomao resigned herself to changing into the outfit.