The Apothecary Diaries Book 7

The Court Ladies' Service Exam

"It's been a long time."

"Yes, sir. A long time," Maomao echoed, all but repeating the words of the man who stood before her. She had been idly making up some medicines at her apothecary's shop in the pleasure district when who should appear but the original fuzzy-feeling inducer, Gaoshun.

"If I may ask, sir, what's going on?" To her knowledge, Gaoshun was no longer Jinshi's attendant but was serving the Emperor himself. She braced herself: surely His Majesty didn't have some business with her?

"It's nothing. My son, curse his foolish hide, was supposed to come, but considering he recently injured himself in the most ridiculous way possible..."

So Gaoshun had come in his stead, rejoining Jinshi for a brief stint while the boy healed.

"Ah. Yes, his injuries were quite severe," Maomao said, recalling the recent events: it had been a real uproar in that corner of the court grounds. She could still picture the battered young man; it had been painful just to look at him.

"Yes, he was an absolute wreck," Gaoshun agreed.

"I'm impressed he survived."

"My son has always been durable, if nothing else." The remark might have sounded cutting, but Gaoshun's "fool son"—that is, Basen—had sustained those injuries while performing his proper duty. He had sacrificed his own health and well-being to save Consort Lishu, who had thrown herself off a balcony under the influence of the White Lady's drugs.

It was a laudable display, but aside from his right hand, every bit of him had either been broken, scratched, or torn up. Maomao was frankly amazed that he'd maintained consciousness.

"He swore he would go back to work on crutches, so I had to restrain him at home. He's currently recovering under the watchful eyes of his mother and older sister."

Maomao nodded with understanding as she opened a drawer. There had to be tea around somewhere.

Gaoshun, however, said, "You needn't mind me, Xiaomao."

"You're sure, sir? I have some buns from the main street that they say are gone by noon every day."

She'd gotten them from the courtesans, who said they had been planning to give them to the apprentices until they realized they didn't have enough and didn't want to start a fight. There was only one of Maomao, so there wouldn't be any jealous scuffling.

The buns consisted of steamed dough worked with brown sugar and yam; they were known for their delicate sweetness and rich exterior.

"You've convinced me," Gaoshun said. He might have looked like a stern soldier, but he had an insatiable sweet tooth.

Maomao prepared tea, taking some she'd made that morning and chilling it with well water. Being able to serve a cold drink to a guest during the hot season was the height of luxury. The madam didn't hesitate to allow Gaoshun to be served with a glass drinking vessel, something usually reserved for only their best customers. (Incidentally, Basen was served with something a step lower on the luxury scale.)

Gaoshun started in on the bun, a blissful smile on his face. What could he be there for? He certainly hadn't come just to trade small talk. When he realized Maomao was watching him, Gaoshun shoved the rest of the treat into his mouth and quickly washed it down with some tea. "Ahem! If I may turn to business," he said.

Maomao immediately had a bad feeling about this. "I've got another bun here, sir. Please, help yourself." She offered him the one she had been planning to eat herself. She liked wine better than sweets, anyway. Gaoshun was a thoughtful guy—she knew that one day the bun would come back to her in the form of some decent alcohol.