The Apothecay Diaries Book 2

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When Maomao made her first visit in quite some time to the rear palace's medical office, she found its resident eunuch as mellow as ever.

"Ah, haven't seen you in a while, young lady," the quack doctor said, happily pouring tea. "It's gotten much warmer these days, hasn't it?" He politely brought her a drink, using a medical treatise in lieu of a tray. Maomao snatched the tea and the treatise both at once, wishing she could give him a piece of her mind for so blatantly abusing such a priceless object.

As ever, the quack was the only one in the office. She couldn't believe how little work he actually seemed to do in here. He was lucky he still had a job.

"Oh, it's still plenty chilly," Maomao said, placing a laundry basket on top of his desk.

Yes, there was still a chill in the air. It was cold enough that the butterbur hesitated to show their faces. Maybe the doctor only felt it had gotten warmer because he was so plump.

Maomao would have to pick plenty of herbs as the new season took hold, but there was something she wanted to do before that happened, and that was what had brought her here today. This wouldn't normally have been an urgent task, but she was who she was—and the quack was who he was.

"Gracious, young lady, you only just got here. What are you doing?" the doctor asked as Maomao pulled something out of the laundry basket.

"What a question." From the basket Maomao produced a set of cleaning supplies and as much bamboo charcoal as she had been able to stuff in there. "We're going to clean. This room." Her eyes flashed. Apparently two months of Suiren's discipline had rubbed off on her. With nothing to do in the Jade Pavilion, Maomao had come to the one place where she had almost free rein. She'd always thought the medical office was a bit of a pigsty; now the fire was lit and there was no putting it out.

"How's that?" the doctor asked, but his sudden frown couldn't save him.

The quack wasn't a bad person; indeed, he was quite kindhearted. But that, Maomao knew, was an entirely separate thing from being good at his job.

The next room over from the main office contained cabinets full of medicines. Three walls towered high with drawers, a veritable paradise on Earth for Maomao, but it wasn't all joy and sunshine. Yes, there might be a great many medicines there, but it was the quack who got to use them. Those he didn't use regularly would get dusty or might be eaten by bugs. And then there was a dried herb's greatest enemy: humidity. Let down your guard for a second and the materials would rot. The warmer it got, the more humid it would become. They had to clean things up now, before that happened, or it would be too late.

It wasn't that Maomao particularly liked cleaning. Neither did she have any special reason to help out here, as all too often when she visited the medical office, it was just to kill time. But still, she felt she must. The sense of duty thrummed in her. (As did the nagging feeling that she'd been thoroughly corrupted by Suiren.)

"You don't have to do all this, young lady. Surely someone else can take care of the cleaning," the doctor said, sounding deeply unmotivated. The tone of his voice caused Maomao to involuntarily look at him in a way she normally reserved for Jinshi. Put simply, it was as if she were looking into a puddle full of mosquito larvae.

"Heek!" The doctor quivered right down to his loach mustache. Any gravitas he might have had vanished.

Darn it, stop that, Maomao chided herself. He might be a quack, but he was still her superior. She had to at least act respectful toward him. Otherwise he might not put out rice crackers the next time she showed up. There were too many sweet snacks around the rear palace, not enough salt.