The Apothecary Diaries Book 3

The Moon Spirit

Rumors can have long tails, and the farther and wider they spread, the more they diverge from reality. Sometimes they cease to be rumors entirely. These expanded stories become shared lore or even myths.

This fact was something Maomao was currently learning on a very personal level. Jinshi, on one of his regular visits to the Jade Pavilion, was at this moment asking her about just such a rumor-turned-legend...

"Do you know the story of the otherworldly beauty who was said to have wept tears of pearl?" he asked, his face absolutely serious. Consort Gyokuyou had to force back a laugh. You just never knew what he was going to say next.

Maomao wanted to reply that she was looking at an otherworldly beauty right this moment, but she refrained. The story the gorgeous eunuch was alluding to was quite an old one. It was said that long ago, there had been a woman in the pleasure district more beautiful than anyone, as lovely as a moon spirit. Did she know, he was asking, who it might have been?

And why was he asking this? Well:

"It's a personal request from the visiting embassy."

The envoy's great-grandfather, it seemed, had passed down stories of a radiant woman in a far land, and interest in this character had never left the envoy. The request was profoundly difficult—indeed virtually impossible—but for this honored diplomatic guest they were obliged to make every attempt they could. Hence Jinshi had come to Maomao, with her knowledge of the pleasure district, to see if she might know of whom the story spoke.

"I understand, of course, that the story is from decades ago," Jinshi said. "This woman must be elderly at best. Who knows if she's even still alive?"

"Oh, she's alive," Maomao said flatly. Jinshi looked at her, his mouth slightly agape. Gaoshun looked likewise, but Consort Gyokuyou's eyes were sparkling. Hongniang (naturally) let out a sigh at her mistress's excessive interest.

Yes, Maomao knew the story of an otherworldly beauty who had tears of pearl. She knew it very well.

"So the story is true?!" Jinshi said.

"True? Sir, you've met her yourself."

Jinshi had been to the Verdigris House—Maomao's home, as it were—and he would certainly have seen her: smoking her pipe, relentlessly sizing up everyone who came anywhere near the establishment. A cunning old lady...

Jinshi and Gaoshun looked at each other, mildly aghast. They could think of only one person who fit that description. The old madam.

Time is a cruel thing: every woman's looks fade with it, no matter how beautiful she once was; her heart grows desolate and she becomes obsessed with money.

Gyokuyou's eyes were still gleaming, but maybe it would be better if she didn't hear this.

"I'm sure she would come running if the price was high enough," Maomao said. "What do you think?"

There was an awkward beat before Jinshi replied, "I'm not quite sure that would work." It was more than a problem of shattering someone's long-cherished dream. At this point it could practically turn into a diplomatic crisis. If the request was for an ethereally beautiful woman, they couldn't produce a dried prune.

Jinshi had to know perfectly well that the madam as she was now would not be satisfactory—but he must have thought Maomao would have some answer.

"Surely they understand that time passes," Maomao said. "And surely they've been received in proper style already."

"About that..." Jinshi told her that many beautiful women had already been summoned and a banquet held, but the other party had shown no sign of satisfaction. In fact, snorting laughter had been the only response.