The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 1

She must have been much admired for her beauty in those halcyon days before she had arrived at the palace, but when she got here, she discovered she had known as much about the outside world as a frog who had spent its life in a well.

“My sincere apologies,” Maomao said. “I couldn’t think of compensation that would be worthy of you, Master Jinshi.”
Would’ve been rude to give a eunuch an invitation to a brothel, right?

Maomao was a relatively objective thinker for a girl of seventeen, but she had a few qualities that continually dogged her. For one, curiosity; and for another, a hunger for knowledge. And then there was her budding sense of justice.

It was always possible he was the current emperor’s guardian, but considering Jinshi looked to be about twenty years old, it was hard to imagine. Maybe he was the son of the Emperor or something, but then why become a eunuch?

“You’re telling me I lost out to that? That I was bested by a bauble some hack felt obliged to give you?”
Wow, I’ve never heard him talk like that, Maomao thought, puzzled by Jinshi’s unfamiliar tone. Clearly, something was wrong.
“I gave you a hair stick, too, as I recall,” Jinshi went on, “but I didn’t see hide or damned hair of you when you needed someone to vouch for you!” He looked positively sullen. His alluring smile had been replaced by the pout of a petulant boy, and suddenly he looked hardly older than Maomao. Perhaps younger, even.

was too easy, with Jinshi’s unearthly beauty, to forget that he was born of woman just like anyone else; it might have been easier to believe sometimes that he was the thousand-year-old spirit of a peach.

Some days later, a gorgeous noble visitor appeared in the capital’s pleasure district. He came with money enough to make even the old madam goggle—and for some reason, an unusual herb grown from an insect. And he wanted one young woman in particular.

It’s the rules, sir.” The information didn’t seem to dissuade Jinshi, whose hand didn’t move. He was staring fixedly at Maomao. She was getting a bad feeling about it.
“Surely one touch is all right.”
“No, sir.”
“There won’t be any less of you afterward.”
“It takes my energy.”
“Just one hand. Just a fingertip. Surely that’s all right.”
Maomao had no answer. He was persistent. She knew him; knew he didn’t give up. Maomao, helpless, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “Just a fingertip.”
The instant the words were out of her mouth, she felt something press against her lips. Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw a daub of her red lip color on Jinshi’s lithe fingertip. He pulled his hand back almost before she realized what had happened. Then, to her amazement, he touched the finger to his own lips.
That sneaky little...
When he pulled his fingers away from his mouth, a spot of scarlet was left on his finely-shaped mouth. His face relaxed a little and the smile became even more innocent. A flush entered his cheeks, as if a touch of the lip color had gotten on his face.
Maomao’s shoulders were shaking, but Jinshi’s smile looked so profoundly youthful, almost childish, that she found she couldn’t rebuke him. Instead she focused on the ground.
Damn, it’s catching... Maomao’s mouth formed a tight line, and her own cheeks were turning pink. She knew she hadn’t used any rouge. Then she realized she could hear laughter, chuckling men and giggling women, and she discovered everyone was looking at them. Her sisters were grinning openly. Maomao was terrified to imagine what would come next. Suddenly she wanted to be anywhere else.
Gaoshun appeared veritably out of the blue, his arms crossed as if to say: Finally. That’s one job done. It was all enough to make Maomao’s head spin, and later she hardly recalled the rest of the evening. She never forgot, though, how her sisters hounded her about it afterward.

”
“You shouldn’t be doing those anyway.” Jinshi rested his chin on his knee in place of his cup. His look of outright exasperation spontaneously slipped into a wry smile. “Heh. I know, I know. It’s who you are.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a woman of few words? Too few?”
“Yes,” Maomao replied after a beat. “Often.”
Jinshi’s smile gradually grew more innocent. This time it was Maomao’s turn to look annoyed. Jinshi reached out again. “I said, why are you running?”

How about if I bought you?” Jinshi drawled.
“Huh?” Maomao was about to tell him not to joke when an idea flashed through her mind. “You know, that might not be half bad.”
Jinshi caught his breath, startled. It was the face of a pigeon spooked by a peashooter. Apparently the lack of sparkle opened the door to a great wealth of expressions. Lovely though the ethereal smile was, it almost didn’t look human. It was nearly enough to convince Maomao that he must have two hun spirits within a single po spirit: two transient yang souls for the single, corporeal yin spirit.
“It wouldn’t be so bad, to work at the rear palace again,” she said.