The Apothecay Diaries Book 2

Lead

Around evening, Jinshi came to her with an extraordinary story. "I'm sorry to trouble you," he began, which was striking enough in itself. Normally, he didn't seem to care how much trouble he was causing Maomao at any given time. The preface, though, had the effect of piquing Maomao's interest.

At issue, it seemed, was a dispute having to do with an acquaintance of an acquaintance of Jinshi's. Something that was almost, though not quite, a family squabble. A craftsman had died without conveying his most important secrets to his disciples—who also happened to be his sons. Among those secrets was a technique never divulged to any outsiders.

"So all we have to do is figure out this metalworker's most secret art. Yes?" Maomao said.

"Gee, when you put it that way, it sounds so simple! I must say, though, you seem uncommonly eager."

"Do I?" Maomao asked, averting her eyes.

Here's what Jinshi had told her: The metalworker had three disciples, all of whom were his blood sons and all of whom were respectable craftsmen in their own right. Their father had held a special commission from the palace, and with him gone, there was talk that one of his boys might succeed him. The father had left a will providing an inheritance for each of his children. His eldest son received a small workshop, the second-eldest a piece of furniture his father had decorated, and the third, a goldfish bowl.

The will also contained one cryptic suggestion: Would that you boys would sit down and share tea together like you used to.

"What a very intriguing final testament," Maomao commented. She had no idea whether it was intended literally, or if there was something else at work.

"It is. And evidently it's just as opaque to the young men as it is to us."

Maomao nodded thoughtfully. "I must say, the division of the inheritance doesn't seem very fair."

The family's main house was still occupied by the boys' mother, so it wasn't included in the will, but when one child got a workshop, another got furniture, and the third received a goldfish bowl, well, it was hard not to think the last child got a raw deal.

"Do you know anything about this goldfish bowl?"

"I'm afraid I don't. But if you're curious, you could pay them a visit. I have the address." What fine preparation on Jinshi's part. He must have assumed it would come to this.

"Then perhaps if I could be spared for a while tomorrow?" Maomao said with a discreet glance at Suiren. The old lady-in-waiting waved a hand as if to say Have fun, but Maomao suspected she would find her workload increased more than ever in the days to come.

The craftsmen's house was past the far end of the great main thoroughfare that ran through the capital. Situated in an area full of shops, it was an impressive place, with a great chestnut tree standing in the yard.

Jinshi and Gaoshun were not with Maomao; instead, the same young man who had accompanied her when she was investigating the case of the poisonous fish was there. His name was Basen.

Doesn't seem like he thinks much of me, Maomao thought, observing how he only spoke the absolute minimum necessary to her. It came across less as reticence than as active disdain. But Maomao was perfectly happy with that, so long as it didn't interfere with her work. It wasn't their job to make friends with each other.

"I've spoken to the family, and they're willing to accommodate us," Basen said. "Outwardly, however, I'm the one who's here to ask the questions. You're my attendant."

"Very well." Better, even, Maomao thought: this was ideal. They arrived at the house, Maomao pattering obediently behind Basen, and when they knocked on the door a member of the family appeared, a grim-looking man of some twenty years old or so.