Perfume Oil

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The caravan left a tremendous vogue for perfumed oil in its wake. Every palace woman who passed by seemed to carry a different scent. Each smell individually might have been quite pleasant, but they mingled together into an undifferentiated olfactory morass. Maomao, with her keen sense of smell, found it a little trying. What made it worse was that the imported perfume from the west wasn't subtle, but carried powerful scents.

Maomao wasn't the only one who found life a little harder because of the new trend. When she went to the laundry area, she discovered piles and piles of perfume-soaked clothing, the eunuchs responsible for cleaning it frowning deeply as they fetched bucket after bucket of water.

Such vogues tended to go as suddenly as they came. The craze for manicures had waned, so everyone needed something new to grab onto. Interest in novels continued to flourish, perhaps because books and perfume were completely different from each other.

Xiaolan was every bit as annoyed as Maomao by the perfume, since it meant more work for her, but she continued to study industriously in order to read her fresh, new copy of the novel. Maomao, who had admittedly expected Xiaolan's efforts to trail off after a few days, was impressed.

"Gah, it stinks," Maomao grumbled to herself as she set down a basket of laundry. Just being here threatened to make her feel drunk on the odors. She stood lethargically—but apparently she was in the way, because a serving girl with a basket full of clothing bumped right into her. Maomao ended up wearing some of the laundry.

"I'm so sorry!" said the maid, whose voice was still high.

Whomever the laundry belonged to, she was apparently also a disciple of the newest trend, for the clothes reeked of roses.

Roses, huh. Was it wrong of Maomao to think about how much money she might get for the rose water she'd made the other day? She'd made plenty of it but hadn't used any for the time being, just held on to it, for essence of rose could have a negative impact on pregnancy. It would probably be fine so long as Consort Gyokuyou didn't use whole heaps of it, but one never knew, and it was best to be careful. As such, Maomao had been looking for an opportunity to sell the stuff in the pleasure district before it went bad.

She plucked the clothing off her head with a growl. Then she blinked and gave the outfit a good sniff. That alarmed the maid, but Maomao ignored her, tossing the outfit into the laundry basket and shoving her face into another one. Now nearby eunuchs and other serving women were watching her in amazement, but what did she care?

Maomao went from one basket to the next, smelling the contents, and by the time she was done it had completely slipped her mind to take her own washing back home. Instead, she headed off somewhere.

Maomao of all people knew where trends were most likely to take root.

That day, the shouting of the ladies-in-waiting of the Crystal Pavilion could be heard all over the rear palace.

The gorgeous eunuch appeared at the Jade Pavilion that evening. She'd figured he might. In his hand he held what appeared to be a written protest.

"I took you for someone with a little more restraint," Jinshi said, his customary exasperation now tinged with anger. Behind him stood Gaoshun (exasperation coupled with exhaustion), Consort Gyokuyou (worried but undeniably intrigued), and Hongniang (only just managing not to look like a wrathful deity). The other ladies-in-waiting were asleep with Princess Lingli, who had already gone beddie-bye.

I mean, I am, Maomao thought, but it was too late.

A great deal of proof was required in order to turn speculation into certainty. The Crystal Pavilion had been the perfect place to get it, and Maomao had, one might say, succumbed to her curiosity.

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