The Apothecary Diaries Book 7

Epilogue

The cicadas had fallen quiet, replaced by crickets. Maybe they're playing cricket sumo in town, Maomao thought. It was a simple entertainment in which the bugs were made to fight each other. As with cockfighting, betting was common. At the moment, however, Maomao was in a room in a house on the outskirts of the capital, somewhat removed from the bustle at the heart of the city. She was looking at Yao, who was lying on a bed. This was her house.

"I'd really like to get back to work as soon as I can," Yao said, gazing outside. She was wearing nightclothes. It had been more than two weeks since the poisoning. She'd been in and out of consciousness for a while, but now she seemed to have recovered.

"I'm sure that would make En'en very happy," Maomao said. En'en was working at that moment—not for Jinshi anymore; she'd returned to the medical office. Maomao suspected, though, that she still wasn't focusing very well. She'd nominally been dismissed from Jinshi's service for failure to attend to her duties. She'd spent all her time at Yao's side instead, but Maomao gathered that Yao had finally chased her out.

"I really thought I could get along without her," Yao said, more to herself than to Maomao.

"I don't think anyone could have prevented what happened," Maomao said.

"Not even you, Maomao?"

She went quiet at that. She had a habit of putting any interesting-looking poisonous objects into her mouth, and yes, she'd experienced Amanita virosa before, although she'd thrown it up before it had been absorbed by her digestive tract. (Incidentally, she'd done the same after sampling the mushroom congee in the shrine maiden's chambers, duly putting a finger down her throat before she could digest what she'd eaten. She must not have gotten quite all of it, for she'd had a mild case of vomiting later.)

The old lady sure went nuts on me that time. The madam had been merciless, drawing on all her experience helping the courtesans with abortions. Maomao had thought she might cough up her own stomach. So yes, she was familiar with the flavor and culinary qualities of mushrooms. She might even have noticed the poisonous fungus, if it hadn't been too finely chopped.

"I guess I really just don't know what I'm doing yet," Yao said, brushing aside her bangs. She'd lost a great deal of weight on account of the poison, but her chest was still plenty healthy.

Maomao passed her some of the medicinal tea her old man had given her. Now that Yao was out of the woods, she was being treated at her own home—but Maomao looked around that home with some surprise. It was a gorgeous house, true enough, but it felt lonely somehow. Even the servants who had come to greet her had seemed few in number considering the size of the mansion.

"I'm sorry I couldn't show you more hospitality," Yao said.

This was probably where Maomao was supposed to say something like "Oh, not at all," but she never had been good at social niceties.

"This used to be our second home," Yao went on. "But my uncle took the main house out from under us."

"I see," Maomao said. So that was why she was living somewhere so out of the way. Maomao had known Yao came from a good family, but now she thought she had some sense of why the young woman showed such ambition, such a desire to become a medical assistant.

"I tried to give En'en a push, but she came back. I don't think she can hope to get anywhere in the world serving me."

Yao's father was dead, and although she had an inheritance, her uncle was the successor to the headship of the family. In Li, it was expected that women would obey men. Now that he was head of the house, Yao's future lay in her uncle's hands. If he made a marriage match for her, she would be obliged to accept it.

Which explains why she's so eager to learn a trade. It was one way for the self-possessed young woman to resist her destiny.

"Such a shame En'en threw it away. I gather the Moon Prince was quite fond of her."

"Yes, so it seems."

Maomao thought she had at least some sense of what Jinshi had liked about En'en. He could be a distinctly strange person (not that she was one to talk), and he seemed more comfortable with people who had only exactly as much to do with him as necessary, rather than fawning or becoming overly involved. Maomao was a little worried about what Jinshi might decide to do next, but she figured they were safe for a while.

"I was so sure En'en would do an excellent job no matter where she went," Yao said.

"One might say her true value only reveals itself when she's with you, Yao," Maomao replied. Indeed, sometimes it revealed itself a little too much. It could be scary. Especially when it came to Yao's chest—there was no denying that En'en had supplied all the necessary nutrients at every turn.

I definitely need a chart of what she's been feeding her, thought Maomao. She unconsciously began to flex her fingers.

"Yes... That was exactly why I wanted to give her a chance to get away. But I see now it's hopeless. Not just for me—if En'en really needs me that much, who am I to turn her down?"

Maomao suspected these sentimental turns were one of the things that drew En'en to Yao. She would quite enjoy discovering how En'en might react should Yao ever go to be someone's wife.

"Hopeless," Yao repeated fondly. Then she looked at Maomao. "And I think you've been doing some work that you haven't been telling us about."

"Whatever do you mean?" Maomao said. She did feel guilty trying to play dumb. True, Yao had survived her poisoning, but Maomao had specifically allowed the criminal who had done it to live. Meanwhile, publicly, Yao was believed to have failed as a food taster and to have been indirectly responsible for the death of a very important person, a stain on her reputation she would have to live with.

And she gets nothing out of it.

"They're treating me too well," Yao said. "I screwed up, I made a mess of everything, and still they're being decent to me, allowing me to continue to work. I'm not such a child as to think the world is that kind to people."

Maomao caught her breath.

"No, you don't have to say anything. Pretend I'm talking to myself. You can just sip your tea and stare off into the distance." She went on, the words coming easily. "I do believe those around me are kind enough not to simply dispose of me—but it also shows that they don't believe I'm on their level. I know it might not be wise to say that out loud, and maybe the fact that I am is just more proof that I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I need to get it off my chest. Yes... Even if I'm just saying it to myself."

In other words, she understood, even if only dimly, that the case had not ended in the way the public had been told. No doubt Yao wasn't the only one who had her suspicions—but pretending nothing had happened was the smartest thing to do, and everyone was keeping their mouths shut.

"If En'en found out, though, I don't know what she might do. I can accept it, but she might not listen to me. So I just hope you'll be careful that she never learns the truth." En'en might indeed question what had happened with the shrine maiden. If she ever discovered who the true perpetrator of the poisoning was, and that they were still alive, she might decide to take revenge in Yao's place. "I would hate for En'en to do something rash, something that might stop her from finding a better place in the world. That's all."

See? Sentimental.

Those above them had determined that this matter was closed, so in Maomao's mind it was over. She wouldn't want to stir the pot. "I'm afraid my ears aren't very good, so I didn't hear most of what you were saying. Yes?"

"My, it must be difficult to have such poor hearing," Yao replied, a touch teasingly. She informed Maomao that she would return to her duties in a few days.

Maomao left the mansion. She had the day off, so there was no carriage waiting for her. The walk home was a bit of a long one, but she would make it.

Children ran around, carrying little cages with bugs in them. The festival atmosphere had subsided, replaced by a comfortable laziness. For the townspeople, the death of the foreign shrine maiden was but a passing concern. The last energy of the festival would soon be overtaken once more by the rhythms of daily life.

Maomao took a sniff of the air. It was turning cold. She set off for home.