The next day, Gaoshun brought a recipe book.
"It's a transcription of the dishes the cook makes. According to the servants' testimony, most of the dishes served to the master are listed in here. The cook also confirmed he made these."
Gaoshun opened the notebook and set it on the table. It contained a recipe for vinegared fish salad using blanched fish.
Maomao stroked her chin as she studied it.
The fish had been blanched, julienned vegetables added, and dressed in vinegar. There was a somewhat unique blend written for the vinegar, but otherwise it was not a particularly unusual dish.
Several vinegar blends were listed, presumably because the flavor changed depending on the season and available ingredients. The specifics—which fish, which vegetables—were not detailed.
"Hmm," Maomao murmured, stroking her chin.
"This doesn't tell us what really matters—what was actually used."
"That's right."
As Maomao tilted her head and studied the notebook, Jinshi approached from the side, looking none too pleased.
He held longan fruit in his hand, cracking it open and eating it.
Inside, dark dried flesh came out.
Longan is a summer fruit that looks like a smaller version of lychee. The dried form is also known as dried longan flesh and is sometimes used as an herbal remedy.
"You can't figure it out?"
He leaned his elbows on the table with restless energy, peering down at Maomao's face.
Gaoshun furrowed his brow at the sight but held his tongue.
(She needed to put him in his place.)
As Maomao regarded Jinshi's poor manners with cold eyes, a gentle hand reached over and took the longan from his.
"For ill-mannered children,"
"treats are off the table."
Suiren stood behind Jinshi with a bright, cheerful smile, softly chuckling. What was with this atmosphere? Maomao couldn't help but see dark clouds gathering behind her.
"I know."
Jinshi lowered his brows, stopped propping himself on his elbows, and straightened into proper posture. The old woman nodded with a "Very good" and returned the longan fruit to his hand.
Maomao had thought her nothing but an indulgent old woman, but it seemed she also had a strict side when it came to manners and etiquette.
The conversation had drifted off course, but they were steering it back.
"The incident happened recently, didn't it?"
"About a week ago."
It was still quite cold for the season. When it came to namasu, cucumber was the typical ingredient, but in this season, they would probably use other root vegetables instead.
"The ingredients would be daikon radish or carrot, something along those lines?"
Vegetables available even in winter were limited. Ingredients had their seasons, and the windows for eating them were likewise restricted.
"Well, apparently they used seaweed,"
At Gaoshun's words, Maomao's mouth fell half open with a small "Oh."
"Seaweed?"
Maomao repeated.
"Seaweed."
Gaoshun said once more.
Seaweed was used both as food and as medicine.
It could certainly be used as an ingredient in namasu.
Hearing those words, Maomao found herself nodding.
(So they have a taste for rare delicacies.)
They might well include some unusual type of seaweed.
The corners of her mouth curled upward. Her slightly parted lips would be showing a set of pointed canine teeth.
Jinshi and the others stared blankly at the sight.
She looked at Gaoshun, narrowing her eyes.
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I see inside that household's kitchen?"
Maomao asked Gaoshun, fully expecting to be turned down.
Gaoshun's arrangements were swift — by the next day, Maomao was all set to enter the kitchen of that particular cook. The officials handling the case had apparently already written it off as concluded, so entry was obtained without much difficulty. That was only natural; if it came out that she was an acquaintance of Gaoshun's, people would scrutinize things far too closely.
The estate was situated in the northwestern part of the capital, surrounded on all sides by equally grand residences. The northern section of the palace district was where most high-ranking officials lived, so it was to be expected.
The household's butler showed them through, explaining that the lady of the house was bedridden from exhaustion. He said Gaoshun had already obtained the lady's consent, so there was no issue.
(A butler, huh.)
Maomao pondered this with some confusion as she headed toward the kitchen.
An official arranged by Gaoshun accompanied them, though he kept eyeing Maomao with suspicion. He didn't seem to think well of her, but he followed Gaoshun's orders without complaint, so there was no problem for the time being. A military official, perhaps? He was still young and his body wasn't fully developed yet, but his movements were efficient overall. He reminds me of someone, she thought absently.
As far as Maomao was concerned, she had no particular interest in making friends, so this suited her just fine.
Fortunately, even if poison-laced food had been prepared there, the kitchen had not been used since the incident.
It was just as Maomao was about to step into the kitchen.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
A man came running toward Maomao with his eyebrows raised in fury. He was around thirty, dressed in fine clothes.
"Don't just barge into this estate — get out! Was it you?! You're the one who brought this lot here?!"
The man grabbed the collar of the butler who had guided them.
Maomao watched through narrowed eyes as the accompanying official stepped forward.
"We have the proper consent from the lady of the house. Furthermore, this is official business."
Maomao silently applauded the official's calm, composed response to the aggressive man.
"Is that true?"
The man loosened his grip on the collar.
The butler coughed and wheezed as he confirmed it.
"Is it permitted for us to enter? Or is there some problem?"
At the official's words, the man clicked his tongue in annoyance but spat out, "Do whatever you want."
The official's wife had apparently collapsed and fallen into a lethargic state, so the official's younger brother had taken charge of the manor. He was likely the man they had encountered earlier.
Maomao surveyed the inside of the kitchen.
The cooking utensils had been washed and put away neatly, presumably by the cooks, but the foodstuffs—aside from perishable raw items like fish—had been left exactly as they were.
Maomao rummaged through every corner of the kitchen.
And the item she was looking for was easily found at the back of a shelf.
Seeing it preserved in salt inside a small jar, Maomao grinned to herself.
"What's this?"
She asked a servant who looked pale and unwell. The man squinted into the jar, and when he made a face suggesting he couldn't tell what it was, she took a pinch and held it up in the water jug so he could see.
"How about this?"
"Oh. That's something the master is fond of."
The man assured her there was no way it could be poisoned, since they ate it all the time. He seemed to be trusted by the wife as well, and didn't appear to be lying.
"That's what he says. Now hurry up and leave."
The man spoke with sullen, resigned irritation, glaring at the jar in Maomao's hands.
"Very well."
Maomao returned the jar to its original spot. She slipped a pinch into her sleeve.
"Sorry for the trouble."
With that, Maomao left the kitchen. Even so, for some time afterward, the sensation of a hostile stare boring into her back refused to fade.
"Why did you back down so easily?"
In the carriage on the way back, the young military officer asked Maomao.
"I don't consider that backing down."
She pulled a pinch of salt-crusted seaweed from her sleeve and wrapped it in a hand towel. Her sleeve was a mess with salt, which felt disgusting, but if she dropped it here, the officer in front of her would certainly scold her.
"This is strange. It's still a bit early in the season for harvesting this seaweed, but even if it's been salted, it wouldn't keep for this long."
It was a remarkably off-season ingredient.
"So I don't think it was gathered locally. For instance, perhaps it was sourced through trade from the south."
The official's eyes widened at Maomao's words. It seemed he now understood what he needed to do, so there was no need for further explanation.
All that remained was for Maomao to do her part.
The next day, she asked Gaoshun to prepare a kitchen she could use. It was located in the quarters for court officials within the palace grounds, apparently outfitted for overnight stays.
Maomao would use it to prepare what she had readied since the previous evening.
When she said "prepare," it was nothing grand — just plating something she had soaked in water to draw out the salt.
It was a simple task, but given the gravity of the matter, she had decided it wouldn't be appropriate to use the kitchen in Jinshi's residence and had asked for this separate one to be arranged instead.
And now, two plates sat before Maomao. The seaweed she had quietly brought over yesterday, divided in two and left to soak in water. It was a vivid green.
Before Maomao sat Gaoshun, the official who had come to discuss the incident, the military officer who had guided her yesterday, and for some reason, Jinshi as well. She'd better not go gawking like a spectator, or Shuirei would scold her for her lack of composure again, Maomao thought.
"I looked into it, and it turned out to be just as she said."
The young military officer spoke in a flat, measured tone.
The seaweed from yesterday had been brought in by merchants from the south.
"Afterward, I asked the servants again. Come to think of it, they said they had never eaten that seaweed during the winter. I asked the other staff as well, and they all gave roughly the same answer."
Among them, it was the official who had consulted about the incident who shook his head.
"As for this seaweed, I've already spoken to the cook. He says it's the same species as the seaweed he normally uses and that there's no way it could be poisoned."
Maomao agreed with that assessment. It was the same species of seaweed.
But if there was one difference — "It's not that it isn't poisonous."
Maomao said this while picking up some seaweed from the plate with her chopsticks.
"Could it be that in the south, this particular seaweed isn't commonly eaten? What if, upon hearing the gourmand official's remarks, a merchant dealing in luxury goods decided it would be profitable and specifically had locals prepare salted versions of it?"
"...What would be the problem with that?"
It was Jinshi who asked. Perhaps because he was in public today, he lacked the oddly listless air he had shown recently. Gaoshun aside, the two officials nearby looked somewhat uncomfortable as they glanced at the strikingly beautiful eunuch.
Maomao spoke while playing with her chopsticks in an almost cheerful manner.
"There are times in this world when a poison ceases to be poisonous."
The methods varied. Eel blood was inherently toxic, for instance, but could be consumed once drained or heated. In this case, Maomao recalled that treating it with lime was necessary.
And the two plates Maomao had divided held one batch that had been treated with lime and one that had not. The portion she was currently picking up with her chopsticks was the one she had prepared last night using lime she had had brought to her.
Maomao popped the seaweed into her mouth. Everyone around her panicked, crowding in to demand what she was doing.
"It's fine. Probably."
In truth, she had only ever heard about this as theoretical knowledge, and she wasn't entirely sure whether simply soaking it overnight was enough to neutralize the toxicity.
This was an important verification all the same.
"'Probably'!?"
"Don't worry. I have the emetic right here."
She slapped a packet of brewed medicine onto the table from inside her garment.
"Don't sound so confident about it!"
In the end, Gaoshun grabbed her from behind while Jinshi force-fed her the emetic. The result was that she ended up vomiting her guts out in front of four noble gentlemen.
What did they think an unmarried girl was made of, exactly?
Incidentally, the emetic tasted so foul it could make you throw up on its own, so it was exceedingly unpleasant.
Pulling herself together, Maomao spoke.
"There is a question I'd like to raise. Who was it that suggested the idea of bringing salt-preserved seaweed to the trade merchants?"
Someone had gone out of their way to import something from a region where it wasn't even part of the food culture.
"If the person who fell into a coma was the one who did it, then in a sense they brought it upon themselves."
But what if it wasn't them?
And what if the person who suggested it knew it could become poisonous?
(This is only speculation, but still.)
There was a nonzero chance that whoever was responsible had thought of it by latching onto the incident from ten years ago.
The people gathered here were clever. There was no need to say more, nor did she intend to. Maomao was a small person. She had no desire to dwell deeply on whose fault something was or how to punish them.
"I understand."
Gaoshun seemed to have grasped what Maomao was trying to say, and he nodded slowly.
Maomao let out a sigh of relief, then picked up the seaweed in front of her and ate it. This time, it was from the other plate.
And once more, she ended up being force-fed an emetic by the pale-faced Jinshi and the others.