"Are you knowledgeable about makeup?"
(What on earth for?)
Maomao tilted her head.
These were the words Jinshi spoke after finishing his duties and returning to his private quarters. He was changing out of his kimono with the help of Suien.
Granted, if you grew up in the pleasure district, you couldn't help but learn how to apply makeup, and on top of medicine, she sometimes made cosmetics too. It wasn't wrong to say she was knowledgeable about it.
"Are you giving a gift to someone?"
"No, that's not it. I'm the one who needs it."
"..."
Maomao stared at him with the look of someone peering into the bottom of a dark, fathomless void. Her eyes were completely vacant.
Seeing that expression, Jinshi said, "What are you imagining?"
Even if he asked, she could only picture exactly what he'd described.
(He doesn't need makeup.)
Maomao had been picturing Jinshi wearing makeup. Even as he was now, his beauty was that of a celestial being. If he were to add vermillion lines at the corners of his eyes, apply rouge, and adorn his forehead with a flower mark, that alone would be enough to topple a kingdom. There were countless pointless wars in history, and some of them had been triggered by beauties capable of bringing down nations.
"...Are you trying to destroy a kingdom or something?"
"How does that follow?!"
Jinshi finished slipping his arms through his sleeves and sat down in a chair. Maomao ladled congee from the pot. It was salted abalone congee — she'd tasted a spoonful to check for poison and found it delicious. Once Jinshi finished eating, Suien would share some with Maomao, so she wanted him to eat up before the pot went cold.
"This is yours, isn't it? How do you make that white powder?"
Jinshi pointed around his own nose as he spoke.
(Oh, he means this.)
Maomao understood. He was already unnecessarily beautiful — there was no need for him to become any more dazzling.
"I dissolve powdered dried clay in oil. If I want to make the color extremely dark, I mix in charcoal or rouge."
"I see. Can you make some quickly?"
For now, Maomao pulled a clamshell container from her robe. Inside was well-kneaded clay.
"I only have this much on hand, but if you give me a night, I can make it right away."
Jinshi picked up the clamshell and scooped out some of the contents with his finger, placing it on the back of his hand. On his porcelain-white skin—the sort of complexion you'd never expect on a man—the Maomao-formulated mixture looked a touch too dark.
"Will you be the one using this?"
At Maomao's question, Jinshi smiled softly. He neither confirmed nor denied it, but she could safely take that as a yes.
"It would be convenient if there were a drug that could change one's face."
When Jinshi said this half-jokingly, Maomao replied: "It's not impossible, but you'd never get your original face back in this lifetime."
She added that lacquer on the face would be more than enough.
"Fair point."
Jinshi said with a wry smile. That would certainly be a problem—and if someone did that to him, Maomao would surely be torn to pieces by the people around her and fed to the beasts.
"That said, I do have certain techniques like that."
"Then I'll leave that to you."
Jinshi grinned as though he'd been waiting for exactly that, and ate his porridge. The nicely grilled chicken looked delicious, but she probably wouldn't get any of that. The plate with the last bite remaining was taken away by Suien.
"Make me look like a completely different person from how I am now."
*What on earth is he planning?* Maomao wasn't reckless enough to ask. Even if she knew, it wouldn't benefit her in the slightest. She would simply prepare what she was told to prepare and be done with it.
Maomao said "Understood," then watched Jinshi as he continued his dinner, wondering if he'd ever finish. The abalone porridge really did look delicious.
The next day, Maomao prepared oshiroi in a thicker shade than usual and packed several other items she deemed necessary into a cloth bag.
She had arrived earlier than usual, yet the lights were already on in Jinshi's private quarters. Inside, the master of the room had just finished his ablutions and was seated on a settee, letting Suien dry his hair. Such luxury was reserved for the nobility alone. Even dressed in clothes even plainer and more modest than his usual attire, his bearing was nothing less than that of a nobleman.
"...Good morning."
Maomao said to Jinshi, half-lidded eyes and all.
"Hm? What's wrong? You seem in a foul mood first thing in the morning."
"No. I was just thinking that Lord Jinshi will be beautiful all day today as well."
"Is that a new form of sarcasm?"
It only sounded like a backhanded compliment because it was the truth. His hair, being combed through, gleamed with luster—she found herself thinking that if it were woven into fabric on a loom, it would make the finest silk.
"Did you never intend to do the job from the start?"
"That's not the case at all, but do you truly wish to become a different person, Lord Jinshi?"
"I've been saying it since last night, haven't I?"
"Then pardon me."
Maomao marched right up to Jinshi, grabbed the sleeve of his garment, and pressed her face against it. Suiren, who had been combing his hair, let out an "Oh my" and hurried out of the room. Gaoshun, who had appeared at some point without her noticing, was likewise shoved out the door by Suiren.
"W-What? So suddenly—"
Jinshi's voice came out a little high-pitched.
(He has absolutely no idea.)
Maomao was the type who, once given a job, wouldn't feel right unless she put in far more than the minimum effort. Which was precisely why she had spent the day preparing all manner of things to transform Jinshi into a different person.
"No commoner would burn incense of this quality."
Jinshi's clothes were the sort worn by townsfolk or, at best, low-ranking officials. They should have had nothing to do with the finest aromatic wood, imported by ship from across the sea. Maomao's nose was sharper than most because she had trained it to distinguish herbs and poisonous plants by scent alone. The reason she had grown irritable the moment she entered the room was that the fragrance had been getting on her nerves. Suiren had probably been trying to smooth things over, but honestly, it had just been a nuisance.
"Do you know how to tell apart a brothel's high-paying customers?"
"…No. By their build? Or their clothes?"
"Those are factors, yes, but there's one more. Their smell."
A fat customer trailing a sweet scent was likely sickly but well-off; one reeking of multiple garish perfumes was probably a regular who had been making the rounds among the courtesans and therefore at high risk of venereal disease; a young man who smelled like livestock was someone who never bathed and was thoroughly unhygienic. Almost every first-time visitor to the Green Light House was turned away, but occasionally one would slip past the old madam's eye. That customer would almost invariably turn out to be a high-spender, because the madam had her own set of criteria.
"For now, two things: change into different clothes, and one more."
Maomao headed to the bathing room, filled a wooden tub with still-warm water, and carried it back to Jinshi's room. Along the way, Suiren and Gaoshun watched her with worried expressions. She casually asked Gaoshun for a favor. She would need something other than the garments that had been prepared.
Maomao drew a small leather pouch from the cloth bag she had brought along. She stuck a finger inside and it came out coated in a thick, viscous oil. She dropped it into the tub and dissolved it.
"First, you'll need to turn silk threads into hemp threads."
She dipped her hands into the tub of water, then used a hand comb to work through Jinshi's hair. The lustrous locks lost their sheen with every pass of her fingers. She was trying to be gentle, but whether it was because she was using only a hand comb or simply lacked experience, Jinshi looked considerably more uneasy than when Suiren did this.
(I must be careful not to catch on any tangles.)
Maomao couldn't help growing tense herself. She sometimes forgot, but if she displeased this man, her head would be parting ways with the rest of her body.
Right when the once-gleaming silk had been thoroughly roughened into hemp-like strands, she tied the hair up. The hair tie she used was less a ribbon and more a scrap of cloth. The point was simply to hold it together—anything would do.
When she finished tidying the tub, washed her hands, and returned, Gaoshun had already prepared what she'd asked for. A truly capable attendant.
"Are you quite sure about this?"
Gaoshun wore a clearly anxious expression. Suiren, standing beside him, took one look at what he had prepared and made no effort to hide her displeasure. Well, for a lady-in-waiting of her caliber, this must have been hard to believe. What Gaoshun brought were used commoner's clothes, slightly too large. They had been washed, to be sure, but the fabric was threadbare in places and carried a faint trace of the previous owner's body odor.
"The smellier, the better, really."
When Maomao held the garment to her nose and said as much, Suiren covered both cheeks with her hands in disbelief. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but Gaoshun silenced her with a hand gesture, leaving her unable to utter a word. Even Gaoshun himself had deep furrows etched between his brows.
Sorry, Suiren, but Maomao still had every intention of twisting the woman's mind further.
"Lord Jinshi, please remove your clothing."
"...Ah, yes."
Jinshi's reply came with a touch of hesitation.
Maomao paid no mind and instead rummaged around the room for anything useful. After laying out several hand towels, she pulled a bolt of plain muslin from the cloth bag.
"I'm sorry, but could the two of you lend me a hand as well?"
She pulled the pair forward—they had been watching with bated breath—and had Gaoshun hold a towel against Jinshi's bare skin. He was a man of almost celestial beauty, one who had already lost what mattered most, yet his upper body was surprisingly well-built with evenly proportioned muscle. Getting down to just his undergarments was apparently too cold, for he had kept his...
hakama on. Thinking the room should have been warm enough, Maomao felt she had done something wrong and added charcoal to the brazier.
Gaoshun held the towel in place while Suiren pressed it down, and Maomao wrapped the muslin over it to secure everything. Once the muslin was all wrapped up, an unsightly shape with a protruding belly— silhouette— had taken shape.
Over that, she put on the oversized clothes and the fit was just right. A slightly...
lopsided build was the result. The fragrance lingering on his body would eventually be masked by the clothes. The face, however, was still unmistakably Jinshi's, which looked quite bizarre.
"Well then, shall we move on to the next step?"
Maomao took out the rice powder she had freshly prepared the day before. She carefully applied, with her fingertips, a shade slightly darker than Jinshi's own complexion.
(Even up close and touched directly, he is uselessly beautiful.)
She marveled at his skin—there was not a single visible pore, let alone a whisker. She spread the powder evenly, then added a darker shade here and there. She dabed spots across his face and created dark circles under his eyes. For good measure, she tried adding beauty marks to the outer corners of both eyes. His eyebrows—she gradually thickened the willow-leaf brows, drawing them with slightly different sizes on each side.
There were methods to disguise the contours of one's face, but those would reveal up close that makeup had been applied. For a woman it was one thing, but a man wearing makeup risked looking suspicious.
Instead, she stuffed cotton into both cheeks to blur his jawline. Even that much had Gaoshun and Suiren exchanging looks, but she was not finished yet. She took the remaining rice powder and applied it to various parts of his body to create moles and age spots. She packed powder under his fingernails to make them look unsanitary.
(Still, they do not quite measure up to dainty whitebait hands.)
Just like the rest of his upper body, Jinshi’s hands were those of a distinguished man. She had always thought he only ever held a brush or chopsticks, but his palms had hard calluses. She had never seen them before, but they suggested he practiced swordsmanship or staff fighting. Something a eunuch inherently had no need for. But Maomao wasn’t inquisitive enough to press the matter; she simply and methodically proceeded to dirty the back of his hands to match those of a commoner.
«Are you finished?»
As Maomao wiped her forehead and began packing away her cosmetics, Jinshi asked. Where once there had been a beautiful eunuch, now there was an unhealthy-looking commoner man. His features were still fine, but with a protruding belly and yellowish stains on his face and hands, he should now look like someone leading an unsavory, unhealthy lifestyle.
«…So, is it really the young master?»
«Drop the ‘young master.’»
Suiren, who had watched the entire process, still couldn’t hide her astonishment. At this point, no one in the palace would recognize him as Jinshi. At least, not by appearance alone.
Maomao took out the bamboo tube remaining in her cloth bag. She removed the stopper, poured some into a cup, and handed it to Jinshi. When he saw its contents, his face twisted. It was probably due to its distinctive pungent scent. It was a mixture of several stimulating substances and frankly couldn’t be called delicious.
«What is this?»
«It’s the finishing touch. Please sip it slowly, wetting your lips, and swallow. Your lips and throat will swell and your voice will change. You should probably remove the cotton from your cheeks first.»
Even if his appearance and smell had changed, if his voice still sounded like sweet honey, someone might notice. If she was going to do this, she had to be thorough to feel satisfied.
«It’s quite spicy, but it’s not poison, so please rest assured. Also, since Jinshi-sama has such good posture, please try to walk with a slouch and bowlegs.»
«……»
Leaving the three of them gaping, Maomao briskly began to tidy up.
She had been given the rest of the day off and was free until tomorrow. She was finally going back to the pleasure quarter, planning to do some of the compounding she loved so much.