"Oh, young lady. It's been a while."
When Maomao went to the medical office, the scruffy-bearded quack doctor was there to greet her. Or was it just her imagination that he seemed to have been waiting?
"It hasn't been that long."
It had been about three days since her last visit. The quack doctor had mentioned that a fresh supply of paper was due from his family home, so Maomao had come by, harboring the opportunistic hope of scoring some leftovers.
"Oh, really? Before, you used to come every day, but lately your feet have been leading you elsewhere, haven't they?"
The quack doctor spoke with a hurt look on his face, but the reason she'd come every day was to clean the medical office. When she finished, he'd always looked so pleased with himself.
Still, it was true that she'd been coming less often. Lately, she'd been spending more time chatting at the laundry. Normally, the only person she really talked to was
Xiaolan,
but recently
Shisui,
a lady-in-waiting serving Consort Lolan, had joined the mix.
(She really is a girl I can't make heads or tails of.)
Maomao had no idea what kind of person Consort Lolan was, but hiring a lady-in-waiting like that spoke to a certain boldness on her part. Shisui had claimed to have some knowledge of medicine, but it wasn't anything specialized—she only knew basic compounding.
When Maomao first heard that Shisui had knowledge of medicine, she'd furrowed her brows involuntarily, but it didn't bother her anymore.
At first, she'd wondered whether Shisui was somehow connected to those shady rumors she kept hearing, but either way, the girl was just too incomprehensible.
Yesterday, she'd caught a
migratory grasshopper
and was showing it off to a nearby lady-in-waiting, who then chased her all over the place.
Maomao didn't know what to make of Consort Lolan, but at the very least, Shisui had no interest in the murky intrigue of the inner palace. Rather than bothering with that sort of thing, she seemed like the type who would happily spend hours observing an anthill. Her apparent lack of interest in romantic entanglements was one thing she and Maomao had in common.
"In any case, here you go."
Maomao pulled out dried medicinal herbs from inside the laundry basket. These were the ingredients the quack doctor had said he was running low on when she visited last time. He was, after all, technically a doctor. He'd boasted that he could make his own stomachache remedies, at least. She'd never heard him mention any other medicines beyond that. Maomao had just enough tact not to press the matter. Besides, she did want those leftovers.
The quack doctor received the herbs, stuffed them into a shelf, and busily began preparing tea.
"Heh heh heh, today I've got a nice little snack to go with it."
As he spoke, he swayed his scraggly beard about like a dancer, busying himself with the tea and treats.
Maomao thought there was nothing to go with the tea, not even a snack, yet the quack doctor seemed to be enjoying himself. By "snack," Maomao realized, he didn't mean sweets or pastries — he meant the story itself.
Maomao sat silently and took a sip of the coarse tea that had been poured. She stuffed her cheeks with rice crackers dusted with salt. The satisfying crunch was delicious. A little aonori seaweed had been sprinkled on top for extra flavor.
"What kind of snack is it?"
Maomao asked the quack doctor, figuring she ought to hear a story worth at least as much as the sweets that had been served.
The quack doctor grinned and cleared his throat with a deliberate "ahem."
"Listen to an interesting tale, will you? I was wondering whether you'd be able to figure this one out, little lady."
The quack doctor began his story with an air of supreme confidence.
○●○
In a certain manor, there lived one physician and three apprentice physicians. The apprentices studied under the physician as their master, but not one of them was an outstanding student. One was diligent in his studies, one was middling, and the third had no drive and was a compulsive liar. Medical posts could be bought with money, so having such students was hardly unusual.
The physician possessed magnificent knowledge of medicine. He had never made a misdiagnosis before, nor would he ever in the future.
The diligent one hated making mistakes and couldn't tell a lie, while the unmotivated one said nothing BUT lies. The remaining one generally said the right thing but occasionally got things wrong.
One day, a terrible storm struck the manor. The wind was fierce, and no one could go outside. Amid this, a certain incident occurred.
One of the apprentice physicians was hanging from the ceiling with a rope around his neck.
Everyone scrambled to bring him down, but he had already stopped breathing.
The physician declared it a death by suffocation and had the apprentice's body removed.
The surviving apprentices — one flew into a rage, shouting that there was no way it could be, and confronted the physician. He screamed that the deceased was not the kind of person who would kill himself.
The other one watched all of this in silence, but on his way back to his room, he confirmed with the physician — "It was suffocation, wasn't it?" — before leaving.
Everyone wanted to leave immediately, but the storm made that impossible. They spent the night there, and the next morning, they found the body of the other apprentice physician — hanging by a neck.
The sole survivor asked the physician why he had killed himself.
The physician shook his head and replied, "Because he suffocated."
○●○
"So then, here's the question. Which student was the one who survived?"
The quack doctor snorted with a satisfied huff.
Maomao scratched the back of her neck.
(A lot of information is missing here.)
The quack doctor was probably asking questions without really understanding. Even if he knew the answer, he didn't seem to grasp what he was actually saying.
Still, it wasn't a problem he couldn't figure out.
In cases like these, you're supposed to judge whether someone is lying or telling the truth, but the key to that is—
"Does this court physician ever lie?"
"......"
He apparently didn't understand that premise either. Very well — Maomao would change her question.
"The court physician never makes a misdiagnosis, correct?"
Unlike this quack doctor.
"That's right! Never, ever!"
He emphasized that point. Then the answer was simple.
"So the one who killed the two was the court physician, and the survivor was neither a liar nor an honest person, but an apprentice — is that right?"
"......"
Seeing him fall silent, Maomao knew she had hit the mark.
"......How did you know?"
The quack doctor said with a sullen face.
"It was strange from the very start."
The crux of this story came down to one person — everyone's
teacher,
the court physician. The moment that person, who never made misdiagnosis, first said "death by suffocation," the culprit was already identified.
Normally, when someone hangs themselves, it looks as though the neck tightens and they die that way — but that's not how it works. Maomao had learned from her father that death comes from the full weight of the body pressing down on the neck. In this case, the rope was placed around the neck in the same way, but the cause of death was different.
So the apprentice who flew into a rage — who was that? It had to be the student who was neither here nor there. A student who only spoke the truth would never claim that their teacher, who never misdiagnosed, had given the wrong answer. A lazy liar of a student wouldn't even get angry in the first place.
And the other apprentice — who was that? A serious student. If the apprentice had been a liar, they wouldn't have agreed with the teacher's answer, which should have been correct.
The student who died the next day was also a serious, honest one.
An honest student wouldn't believe it was suicide. And besides, the teacher had also answered "death by suffocation."
The teacher said "death by suffocation," but never denied that it was suicide.
「It must be tough, not being able to lie only about autopsies.」
Saying that, Maomao took a big gulp and drained her tea.
"Huh?"
The quack doctor tilted his head in puzzlement, despite having asked the question himself.
Maomao watched him do that while popping the remaining rice crackers into her mouth and flipping through medical texts in the office.
She had expected this languid time to continue for a while.
"So this is where you were."
She heard a low, familiar male voice. When she turned around, there was the usual frown between his brows—
Gaoshun
was there.
Normally, this man would have been somewhat reassuring, but this time the situation was a little different.
She nearly flinched but caught herself, pretending to take a sip from her empty tea cup to compose her thoughts.
"Do you need something?"
No, I don't need anything. Please leave — she thought this as she looked at Gaoshun, but apparently things wouldn't be that convenient.
"Jinshi-sama is calling for you."
So it's finally come to this — Maomao let her shoulders slump.