The next day, Airan returned to the Jade Palace, and Maomao was summoned by a certain someone.
She wondered who it might be, only to find it was the middle-aged court lady who had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck the day before.
"So it's Maomao you want to see, then."
Chin resting on her hand, Gyokuyou addressed Airan from the sitting room, where Airan had come to pay her respects. The consort was lying on a sofa. Her belly had grown considerably, making her movements sluggish. She wore clothes that concealed her figure, but some of the people outside may have already noticed by now.
"I'm terribly sorry. She could have just stayed and had her drink here."
Airan explained that Maomao had apparently taken the medicine she'd made yesterday at the clinic. A court lady had discovered her doing so and asked where the medicine had come from.
(Makes sense.)
The clinic was not permitted to use medicine on account of there being no physician on hand, so one certainly shouldn't be sneaking it in. Unless the source was made clear, it could draw unwanted scrutiny from above.
Maomao was thinking it would be best if she just went along promptly and got properly scolded, when an unexpected proposal came out.
"She says she'd like to borrow her for a little while."
"Oh my, oh my."
Gyokuyou tilted her head and looked at Maomao.
Airan also looked at Maomao with a troubled expression.
Maomao, figuring she'd gotten herself into something troublesome, was already thinking about ingredients for a new medicine.
In the end, under the watchful eye of a chaperone, Maomao made her way to the clinic. Her escort was not Airan, but rather Yinghua.
She was smaller in stature compared to Airan but had a lively, forthright personality, so she was thought to be well suited for the role.
Even though they were both within the inner palace, the distance between the two locations was considerable. Yinghua was far too chatty to stay quiet for that long.
"Say, Maomao. Yesterday, after Airan left, didn't you do something over by the garden lantern?"
"You saw that?"
After returning from the clinic — or rather, precisely after running into Jinshi and his party on the way back.
"I was just looking around for any ingredients I might need for medicine."
When it grows dark, you light the lanterns. Insects gather toward the flame. Predatory creatures, seeing their chance, creep closer in pursuit.
"You're not looking for bugs or something, are you?"
"It's not bugs."
Indeed it wasn't bugs, but Yinghua's face was twisted with a foreboding sense of trouble.
"Maomao, your room's gotten way too cluttered lately. The smell of medicine is getting so strong that Hongniang has been raising hell about it."
"That's terrifying."
"You don't really look scared, though."
Maomao didn't think so at all. That head handmaiden was quite the force to be reckoned with. Still, you'd need that kind of backbone just to survive in the Inner Palace.
"Before long, you might get kicked out of your room and dumped in the storage shed next door."
Yinghua said with a grin.
"That would be great, actually."
That storage shed was bigger than her current room, and more importantly, it was far from everyone's sleeping quarters—so she could make noise in the middle of the night without being discovered. She'd been all the more frustrated knowing she'd acquired a wealth of unused tools from the clinic but had nowhere to use them.
"Then I'll go ask Hongniang as soon as we get back."
Maomao's eyes lit up.
"Wait, hold on. Um…"
Before Yinghua could hurry to say something, they had already arrived at the clinic.
"Well, shall we go inside for now?"
"Hey, about what you said earlier, just—a little—"
Maomao's excitement swelled as she thought about how, once she moved into the shed, she might be able to do work involving fire.
The middle-aged court lady said— Shinryoku.
When Maomao looked more carefully, she noticed her eyes had a green tinge to them, just like those of Consort Gyokuyou. Perhaps there was Western blood mixed in somewhere.
Maomao was led to what appeared to be a reception room in the clinic. It had probably been converted from one of the older consorts' quarters. Though the superfluous decorations had been stripped away, the underlying structure hadn't changed all that much.
In the room, faintly scented with alcohol, Shinryoku served tea. The table was plain, and the shelves and chairs around them were sturdy but clearly well-used.
"
Noble Consort "I wasn't aware of who served in your lady's household. Please forgive my discourtesy."
"Not at all."
Other maids might have let it slide, but Maomao's upbringing left much to be desired — she held a position well beyond her station. Gyokuyou was often addressed by her official title by the ladies-in-waiting outside the Jade Palace.
Shinryoku's voice was composed, bearing none of the motherly brusqueness of the woman who had shown up the other day laden with mountains of laundry. She appeared to be properly educated as a rear-palace lady-in-waiting.
(As expected, she must be a clever woman.)
Even among rear-palace ladies-in-waiting, there were some who couldn't read or write. If someone had managed to remain here for years on end, they were presumably quite sharp. Or perhaps they had some particular reason for doing so.
Perhaps it was because Maomao had mentioned being from Gyokuyou's household, but Shinryoku's expression seemed to cloud over just slightly.
When Maomao considered the special treatment, she felt somewhat uneasy about it. With a high-ranking consort, people tended to turn a blind eye to various things among her attendants. Yet starting things off by having someone summoned would undoubtedly put Shinryoku in an uncomfortable position.
However, Shinryoku let out a long breath and looked straight ahead.
"There is something I'd like to ask of you."
"What might that be?"
Even though Maomao had responded without any fuss, Shinryoku showed a brief flicker of surprise. But she quickly composed herself and continued.
"This may feel rather presumptuous, but may I proceed?"
"Please do."
Maomao was accustomed to people treating her with discourtesy. If anything, she sometimes wondered whether she herself wasn't the one being rude. As a result, she was confident she could brush off just about anything anyone might say to her.
"Well then, when I say I'd like you to make medicine for a lady-in-waiting serving the Virtuous Consort…"
"Wha—!?"
It wasn't Maomao but Yinghua who reacted. She lurched forward as if slamming her palms on the table. The tea-filled bowl wobbled, spilling droplets that left dark stains.
"Do you have any idea what you're asking?!"
Yinghua said to Shinryoku.
Shinryoku drew another long breath, "I am fully aware."
and fixed her gaze upon Maomao and the others.
Shinryoku didn't seem to be joking, and Maomao sensed there had to be some reason behind this.
「It seems there might be some reason for it.」
「Maomao!」
"I'm sorry, but wouldn't you at least hear me out?"
Yinghua sat down in a chair, her brows drooping. She took a sip of the cold tea, steadying her nerves.
"Could you tell me what's going on?"
"Fine."
Shinryoku began to speak, one detail at a time.
"Well, this has turned into a real headache."
Uncharacteristically, Yinghua let her shoulders slump as she spoke.
"Yes, it has."
Maomao, too, felt it was a headache — but one she couldn't walk away from now that she'd heard it.
It concerned a maid in the service of Consort Rifa — that is, the Virtuous Consort Rifa — who had fallen gravely ill.
And apparently, the patient was still in the Crystal Palace.
She was a maid who had been coming to the northern laundry for some time and had become familiar with Shinryoku. For a while now she had been coughing oddly, and Shinryoku had told her she ought to take a proper rest, but after that the maid never came back — it had been five days already.
Shinryoku said she'd wondered whether the maid might have switched laundry assignments, or perhaps the person in charge of laundry had changed, but she shook her head.
"Even so, it would be better to have her examined at least once."
That was Shinryoku's verdict.
The maid had a cough, but apparently it was an unusual kind of cough.
(A cough, huh.)
The cough had started just a few days before she stopped coming. Before that, she had apparently been dealing with persistent fatigue and a low-grade fever.
When Maomao asked whether the maid had at least visited the clinic, it turned out she hadn't. She simply hadn't been granted permission.
(That's the worst part of that place.)
For someone of a mere maid's standing, the person she'd need permission from wouldn't be Consort Rifa herself. Most likely, one of the ladies-in-waiting had dismissed the maid's request without a second thought.
And then — Piecing the symptoms together, a bad feeling crept through Maomao.
"But still, do you really think someone like that exists?"
"I believe it's worth investigating."
If it turned out to be true, proper measures would have to be taken. It could develop into a problem that extended beyond the Crystal Palace alone.
Yinghua stared intently at Maomao.
"I know you're the type to get curious about things like that, but this is where we are. You understand that you should request permission before going, don't you? You have a bad habit of rushing off sometimes."
"...Yes."
Even though she had some connection to Rifa, she couldn't very well just waltz over to that lady's palace. She had only just failed at doing something like that recently.
At any rate, nothing could move forward until she got Jinshi on board first.
She wanted to go as soon as possible, but things rarely went the way one wanted.
(Fretting about it won't help.)
Maomao was thinking about something else, trying to take her mind off things, when it happened. Something caught her eye within her field of vision.
Maomao instinctively broke into a sprint and bolted toward the object, leaping across the ground like a frog until she finally managed to catch it.
"Maomao! What are you doing right next to me?"
Yinghua approached, tugging at the hem of Maomao's kimono.
Maomao made a slightly pained expression but stood up, feeling the object wriggle within her cupped palms.
"I'm sorry. I found something I'd been looking for, and I just couldn't help myself."
"Looking for things? Please tell me it's not that bug again."
"It's not a bug."
It wasn't a bug.
And this wasn't the real thing, either.
Unfortunately, she had let the real thing get away, but for the time being, what Maomao wanted was squirming in her hands.
"Look."
When she opened her hands, there was a lizard's tail, still energetically thrashing about.
A lizard's tail would grow back after being detached. That was the beauty of it.
(You must never give up on anything.)
Some hermit or other once said that giving up means it's over, didn't they? If you want to make an unknown medicine, start by researching something with similar effects.
So Maomao kept her eyes on the moths fluttering around the lantern, watching to see if any lizards had made it their home.
"For now, I thought I'd investigate why the tail grows back," she said.
She spoke with a hint of enthusiasm, but received no answer in return.
When she looked up, she found Yinghua pale as a sheet, mouth hanging wide open—then the girl toppled backward on the spot.
Maomao wrapped the tail she had captured in a handkerchief, tucked it into the folds of her clothing, and found herself having to tend to the collapsed Yinghua.