The Apothecary Diaries Book 5

The Paper Village

After traveling westward two days by carriage, they reached the village that was the quack doctor's hometown. It sat adjacent to some mountains and a forest, downstream of the source of the great river that divided the country in half. Ditches followed the river, but it looked like only weeds were growing in the fields.

Maomao looked at them intently and the quack, who loved to talk, was kind enough to explain. He kept his voice down, perhaps out of deference to Basen, who was sitting diagonally across from them. Jinshi sat beside Basen, but the quack still hadn't figured out who he was.

"That's barley," he said.

"Barley, sir? It seems extraordinarily well irrigated." The ditches ran all around the fields, but Maomao didn't think barley was supposed to need that much water.

Maomao, the cat, was at her feet. She had tired of riding in her basket and alternately lounged on the doctor's knees and peered out the window. She, for one, seemed to know who Jinshi was, and occasionally cuddled up against his ankles. Basen kept his distance from her—maybe he'd never dealt with cats before. There seemed to be a lot of things he didn't cope with very well.

"Those are for the summer rice season. They grow two crops each year here, you see, rice and barley."

"Ahh."

"Stick to wetland rice, and you can grow another crop in the same field without exhausting the soil," the quack added.

Growing two crops in the same year meant taking that many more nutrients from the soil—but the water for rice paddies actually restored nutrients in the ground, protecting against depletion. An ideal form of farming for such a water-rich area.

As they got beyond the fields, the forest came into view, the village nestled nearby it.

"There seems to be a wide range of natural resources around here," Maomao remarked. So many, she thought, that there didn't seem to be a compelling reason to focus on making paper; but there were other factors at play.

"When we arrived here, the flatland already belonged to someone else," the quack explained. "But they hadn't given the forest a second look."

That forest, with the water from the nearby mountains running through it, provided the resources for the village's paper industry. There wasn't enough to allow them to produce in bulk, but they had been able to succeed by focusing on quality instead. Happily, the river also served as a convenient way of transporting their product. The two groups made different things, so the villagers got along well with the land's original inhabitants.

"When we got here, the landowner was quite a fine fellow," the quack said.

Something bothered Maomao, however. As they were passing by the fields, her eyes had met those of a farmer stomping on the barley. That was a way of making the grain stronger, yet the way he did it seemed almost angry. The look he had given her was sharp, dark.

Maomao had pretended she hadn't seen him, instead turning back to continue her conversation with the doctor.

When they arrived at the village, they were greeted by a woman who looked to be around forty. The softness of her eyes, and the way they sort of drooped, reminded Maomao of the quack himself. The woman must be the quack's younger sister, she surmised.

The quack passed the cat to the woman, who smiled and stroked its fur. He must have told her ahead of time that he would be bringing the animal. He evidently had not, however, let her know that he would be traveling with an entire entourage, for she looked at Maomao and the others with surprise.