Maomao
was a creature whose curiosity always won out over inconvenience. And so, across the cold stone floor she walked, making her way down a narrow, dark, and damp underground passage.
The place was a prison. No one could demand improved conditions when they had committed a crime.
Her footsteps clacked loudly, echoing through the space.
"Don't make eye contact with the convicts."
Warning her
was
Li Bai.
Given the setting,
Risu
would not have been the best choice for an escort. She was capable and stronger than the average guard, but she could only use one hand, and her appearance was that of a frivolous-looking handmaid. Choosing a physically imposing guard so as not to be looked down on by the rough crowd was the right call. The other two guards were also large men.
"..."
"..."
The convicts' voices sounded like curses. Looking at Maomao and the others as they approached, whatever they were saying was nothing pleasant. Even if they showered her with contempt and vulgarities, they couldn't escape their cells, and their voices had no energy in them.
The sound of hacking coughs, dull and lifeless eyes.
Maomao realized this was a prison where sick prisoners had been gathered.
Maomao wrapped a handkerchief around her mouth, and Li Bai and the others followed suit. Abandoning the sick didn't sit well with her. But she couldn't afford to go soft-hearted here, so she turned a blind eye to the voices around her.
"This seems to be the one."
A narrow solitary cell. A man sprawled on a worn-out straw mat. Instead of a proper covering, a tattered cloth was draped over him.
A draft crept in through the small air vent meant to circulate the stale air. Shivering from the cold, the prisoner could do nothing but curl up.
A man so cold he could do nothing but shiver. This was
Yu,
the village chief and curse-weaver.
One of the guards made a disgusted face as he unlocked the cell and roused the prisoner inside.
(It smells of death)
When a living thing dies, it produces a distinctive smell. Fragments of it were already drifting from the prisoner's body.
Li Bai directed the light toward the cell.
Sunken eye sockets, skin that looked dried out. The fingertips appeared black, as if necrotic.
"..."
The prisoner's speech was slurred. His body was numb everywhere, and on his neck were
pockmarks.
visible.
"Why did you try to scatter seeds of vaccination—seeds of smallpox?"
"Ah... ha ha."
The prisoner began to laugh. A strained laugh, as though he was squeezing out the last of his strength.
"Ha ha ha ha... why am I... the bad one?"
The prisoner's voice was hard to make out.
"That guy... the ko... the yafu... did it... he did..."
He seemed to be talking about Keyou.
"And... the afu... was houkou..."
"Houkou."
For some reason, that single word came through clearly.
"Ha ha ha... haaah..."
The prisoner laughed, and then the thread snapped.
The guards hastily caught the prisoner as he slumped.
"Is he alive?"
"Barely."
"..."
Without ever getting a proper testimony, the prisoner would likely perish here. He had committed too grave a sin to die peacefully in a warm bed.
Maomao stared at the prisoner's hand resting on the straw mat.
(houkou)
Devotion, direction, howling, fragrance...
(
Penghou
)
Maomao recalled the name of the yokai.
A tree spirit that lived for a thousand years. The legends varied from place to place, but what Maomao knew was something closer to a forest echo — call out toward a mountain and your voice would come bouncing back.
If Kokuyou could be called a forest echo, somehow that fit.
Kokuyou always met Maomao with that vacant grin. He'd recount his miserable past with a chuckle, yet for all that, he didn't seem the least bit jaded.
(A forest echo, huh.)
Maomao's fist tightened.
"What's wrong, miss?"
"I was just wondering whether I might visit Kokuyou after this."
"That's not really my call, but I imagine if I let Sparrow know, it ought to be fine?"
"I'd be grateful."
Li Bai, ever considerate, had no sooner stepped out of the prison than he waylaid a subordinate and sent him off to hunt down the elusive Sparrow.
"Still, I wonder what Sparrow is really after. Dragging my men into it this time too."
"When you say subordinates —
Usujun,
perhaps?"
"That's the one. And he's been sticking his nose into
Bassen
's master's business as well, right?"
"Mm."
He had heard that Ujun was using his half-sister as some kind of shield.
"Not sure if that's related, but Ujun's half-sister who used to be in the rear palace — the former consort who became a nun — what was her name again?"
"It's
Lady Risu,
isn't it?"
"Ah, right, right. That consort apparently returned to the U residence."
"Why?"
While Maomao had been away, a lot of things had progressed.
"Not sure exactly, but it was apparently a personal request from the head of the U household. It seems they're going to start doing some new things at the temple where Lady Risu stayed."
"Could it be something dangerous?"
If Maomao's prediction was correct, it was probably an experiment with weakened smallpox inoculation.
"Could be. And on that note, it seems Lady Risu has received permission to return home."
The Emperor had always been lenient toward Risu. He had arranged for her to leave the rear palace and become a nun in the first place to protect her from being mistreated.
Now that her father — who had been both parent and enemy — and her half-sister had long been expelled from the U household, there was no problem calling her back under some pretext. Others might grumble about her "moving back in," but as far as Risu was concerned, that was old news.
As for what would happen to her from here, that depended on Basen.
Lost in thought, she arrived at the medical office before she knew it.
"Maomao, Maomao!"
The ever-elusive Suzume was already standing in front of the medical office.
"Well then." Li Bai gave a wave and returned to his work. Maomao bowed her head and went over to Suzume.
"What is it, Suzume?"
"How did it go?"
"'How did it go' — he has only a few days left. Even if I intervened, it wouldn't extend his remaining time."
"Yes. That's about right. They caught him red-handed, so whether he dies or lives doesn't matter — he'll be a criminal either way. But it's still rather disgusting."
Suzume stated it matter-of-factly. She had probably known from the start, which was why she'd sent Maomao. She hadn't told Maomao to "diagnose" or "treat" him. So Maomao had only "watched."
"Did you figure out why he stabbed Keyong? Why he went on a rampage like some random attacker?"
(Something tells me)
Maomao had figured it out.
But that was just speculation.
"Not saying it out loud even when you know — that's so like you, Maomao."
"You're quite right."
"Then shall we go visit Keyong and confirm?"
Suzume tugged at Maomao's hand, urging her along.