"I was certain you would be returning to the Rear Palace."
Maomao wore plain clothes made of cotton rather than hemp. The fact that she had worn hemp during her days as a low-ranking maid in the Rear Palace made it clear the treatment here was better than she had imagined.
"No. Once you've been dismissed, you can't just come back that easily."
The one showing Maomao around the palace was Gaoshun — tough as a warrior, yet more diligent than anyone.
He wore his usual plain official's uniform, calling out the names of buildings and the departments they housed. The sheer number of them was far more than you could count on all your fingers and toes, considering how vast the palace was. As for Maomao, she honestly had no intention of memorizing anything that didn't pique her interest, so she pretended to listen, nodding along while silently surveying the garden's vegetation with her eyes.
(The Rear Palace really does have more useful materials.)
Her father, Luomen, must have transplanted useful plants when he was stationed in the Rear Palace. Despite the limited space, a great many medicinal herbs were growing there.
As Gaoshun continued his explanations one after another, Maomao noticed a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck. She shifted her gaze just slightly toward the rear and saw the court ladies watching them. No — more precisely, they were watching Maomao alone, and their stares were indescribably unpleasant. Just as there are things only men can sense about other men, there are things only women can sense about other women. Men tend to attack their rivals physically, while women are more likely to attack psychologically.
(What a nasty feeling.)
Maomao briefly stuck out her tongue and then followed after Gaoshun as he walked on to the next department.
Maomao's work was no different from that of a low-ranking Rear Palace maid. She cleaned whichever department she was assigned to and was occasionally asked to run errands. Normally, a court lady would also be entrusted with more scholarly duties befitting a civil official, but Maomao did not qualify for those. She had failed the examination.
Both Jinshi and Gaoshun had been surprised. They had expected Maomao to pass with ease. The content certainly demanded a fair amount of effort. And yet, having grown up in a pleasure district, Maomao could read and write, and had received at least a minimal education in poetry and the erhu. The exam wasn't as grueling as the imperial civil service examination, so Jinshi had been confident that a quick learner like Maomao would not fail.
(Sorry about that — I failed.)
Maomao scrubbed away at the window frame until it squeaked. Taking her work seriously — that was Maomao's guiding principle.
But studying was a different matter altogether. Honestly, when it came to subjects she had no interest in, her ability to retain information was below average. Pharmacology and related knowledge were one thing, but what good was memorizing history?
Laws changed without notice, so memorizing them was pointless. Thus, no matter how much talent one had, it meant nothing if one didn't put in the effort. Unfortunately, Maomao had absolutely zero talent for effort in that direction. It was only natural that she failed.
(It's dirtier than I expected.)
Well, with a place this large, there were bound to be hard-to-reach spots, Maomao reasoned. But at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder if some of it was simply neglect. The court ladies held their qualifications to work here in high regard. They were nothing like the hodgepodge of maids in the Rear Palace. They had distinguished family backgrounds and proper educations, and with that came a corresponding sense of pride. They probably considered it beneath them to do a maid's work — even if dust accumulated, they saw no reason to sweep it up.
(Well, it's not really part of the job.)
Court ladies were essentially scribes. Indeed, cleaning was not part of their job description. There was no obligation to do it. But that didn't mean it was wrong to do it anyway. Court slaves had been abolished since the previous emperor's reign, so menial tasks had to be handled by each person individually.
For that reason, many high-ranking officials hired maids specifically to handle cleaning. Maomao, too, was now directly under Jinshi.
(Now then, what should I do next?)
Maomao's cleaning assignment was Jinshi's office. It was spacious but not lavish — a room built with no wasted space. Its owner seemed too busy to return to the office very often, which made it easy for Maomao to clean. If there was one problem, though —
"And just who do you think you are?"
When she came to her senses, she found herself surrounded by unfamiliar court ladies. They were all bigger than Maomao, and some towered over her by a full head.
*Good food really does wonders for how you grow.*
Maomao couldn't help but let her gaze travel from their heights down to their chests. Their builds suggested they might have some foreign blood in them. With their fair skin and lovely complexions, she'd quite like to see them up close.
"Hey, are you even listening?!"
*Oh dear, that won't do at all.*
She'd gotten so absorbed in her impure thoughts that she'd managed to anger the court ladies.
To put it simply, these court ladies were furious about why Maomao was working directly under Jinshi. She was only hired help, so she could hardly say anything in response. And even if she told them the honest truth, they'd never be satisfied.
If Maomao had the exotic allure of a foreign princess like Gyokuyou, the voluptuous figure of Consort Rifa, and the sensual charm of Miss Byakurei, nobody would have said a word — they couldn't have. But Maomao was nothing more than a scrawny, gaunt, freckle-speckled creature resembling a picked-clean chicken bone. And there she was, stationed beside the beautiful eunuch — an eyesore they could barely stand. Given the chance, they would gladly take her place.
*Hmm, what should I do?*
Maomao wasn't particularly eloquent and often stumbled over her words. But staying silent would only further rub them the wrong way.
"So what you're all saying is... you're jealous of me?"
The blunt words were more than enough to enrage them. Sure enough, it was only after the sting of a slap across her cheek that she realized she'd chosen the wrong words. *Ouch*, she thought, rubbing her cheek.
Five court ladies surrounded her — Maomao would really rather not find out what a group beating felt like. Women's strength or not, pain was still pain.
She might as well try to talk her way out of this, Maomao thought.
"You don't think I'm getting special treatment, do you? That's impossible. Why would someone who looks like a celestial maiden deign to spend time with an ugly thing like me?"
The near-mumbled words made the furious court ladies' cheeks twitch involuntarily.
*This might work*, Maomao thought, pressing on.
"Is the noble person you imagine really that desperate for something terrible? When there's abalone and pork right in front of him, would he really go out of his way to gnaw on a picked-clean chicken bone? Well, if that's the case, what a truly"
peculiar taste
"he must have."
Perhaps because she'd deliberately emphasized the "peculiar taste" part, the court ladies shuddered even more violently.
"I wouldn't know, but would someone blessed with such a heavenly smile and beautiful face really have... that kind of peculiar taste?"
"Th-that's ridiculous!"
"Of course, of course!"
The court ladies began to murmur among themselves. But one among them still regarded Maomao with a skeptical eye.
"But then why are you employed here?"
A relatively composed court lady spoke up. The one with the impressive chest—er, impressive physique. Come to think of it, this court lady had been the only one staying calm this whole time. She had been standing half a step behind the other court ladies, but she also seemed to be sizing up the situation.
(Well, if I can't dodge this one...)
Maomao raised her left hand and pushed back her sleeve. She peeled away the bandages wound from her wrist to her elbow. Honestly, it was nothing anyone should have to look at, and she only showed it for an instant, but the court ladies' recoiling expressions told her they had seen quite enough.
(Been experimenting with burn salve lately, so it's a soggy mess in there.)
Probably quite disgusting for a bunch of sheltered young ladies.
"A heavenly maiden as radiant as she is beautiful has a heart just as divine. Why, she even provides a living for the likes of me."
Maomao said this as she rewrapped the bandages.
"...Let's go."
The court ladies, their interest thoroughly deflated, filed away. One of them glanced at Maomao on her way out, but quickly returned to her post.
(Finally done.)
Maomao cracked the joints in her neck and gripped the cleaning rag once more. She was about to move on to the next area and resume scrubbing when she spotted the radiant eunuch standing frozen against the wall, pressing his head against it.
"What are you doing, Lord Jinshi?"
"...Nothing. More to the point—are those kinds of women always picking on you?"
"I'm fine. They're less trouble than the court ladies of the rear palace, anyway. But while I'm at it, why are you in that position?"
It didn't seem like a posture befitting a radiant nobleman. Gaoshun, standing behind him, had his face buried in his hands.
"Well then, I'm off to the next cleaning spot."
As Maomao walked away carrying her bucket, Lord Jinshi's lovely voice murmured, "Special tastes..."
(That wasn't really an insult or anything.)
Even if Lord Jinshi had witnessed the entire exchange just now, Maomao felt she had done nothing wrong. She set to work on her cleaning.