The Apothecay Diaries Book 2

Makeup

Maomao was preparing for the evening meal when Jinshi said, "Do you know much about makeup?"

The question came completely out of the blue. What in the world is he asking about that for? Maomao thought, making no effort to hide her confusion. For the first time in a while, she found herself looking at him as if she were studying a caterpillar—not that she had really meant to.

Jinshi had just come back from work. Suiren was helping him change clothes. And this was what he wanted to know?

It was true that, growing up in the pleasure district, one learned the basics of doing makeup by osmosis, and sometimes Maomao concocted cosmetics as well as medicine. She couldn't deny she had a fair amount of knowledge about the subject.

"Do you wish to give some to someone as a gift?"

"You misunderstand. It's for me."

That struck Maomao dumb. Her eyes became bottomless black pits, vacant and empty. She no longer even looked like she was gazing at a dead bug or a puddle of mud.

"What are you imagining?" Jinshi snapped. Well, what else would she be imagining? Jinshi in makeup. He was the one who'd brought it up.

He doesn't need any damn makeup! Maomao thought. He already had the beauty of some denizen of the heavenly realm. A touch of crimson around the eyes, a dab of rouge on the lips, and a flower mark upon his brow would be enough to bring the nation to its knees. History was full of pointless wars, and more than a few of them had been caused by a beautiful woman too close to the seat of power.

And this man, he had the potential to transcend gender entirely.

"Do you want to destroy this country?" Maomao asked flatly.

"What in the world gave you that idea?!" Jinshi exclaimed, pulling his outer jacket on and sitting in a chair. Maomao served him congee from a clay pot. It was made with good, salty abalone, and the bite she took to test it for poison was delicious. She knew that when Jinshi was finished, Suiren would split the leftovers with her, so she wished he would hurry up and eat before it all went cold.

"How do you make that stuff you use?" Jinshi asked, indicating her nose.

Oh... My freckles, Maomao thought, and then it came to her. His beauty was already so overwhelming that he needed nothing to enhance it. But perhaps something to blunt it. "I dissolve dry clay in oil, sir. If I want the product to be especially dark, I mix in charcoal or red lip pigment."

"Hmm. And can you do that on short notice?"

Maomao produced a clamshell from the folds of her robe. Inside was tight-packed clay. "This is all I have on me right now, but give me a night's time and I can easily make more."

Jinshi took the clamshell, scooped up some of the contents with his finger, and rubbed it on the back of his hand. It was a bit too dark, Maomao thought, for his almost porcelain skin. She would have to thin the mixture out.

"Will you yourself be using it, sir?"

Jinshi chuckled softly. It wasn't a real answer, but Maomao figured she could take it as a yes.

"If you know of any medicine that can change a man's face, I would love to hear about it," he said lightly.

He was joking, but Maomao replied: "Such things exist, but you would never be able to change back." Lacquer, for instance, would do the job in a hurry.

"I suppose so," Jinshi said with a strained smile. He wouldn't want that—and neither would anyone else around here. Maomao could easily picture herself torn to pieces and fed to the beasts if she dared to do such a thing.