The Apothecary Diaries

Chapter 14: The Fire

There. I knew it. Balancing a laundry basket in one arm, Maomao smiled. Those were red pines growing in a grove near the eastern gate. The gardens of the rear palace were deftly manicured. Once each year the dead leaves and withered branches were cleared out of the pine forest, as well. And Maomao knew that a well-tended pine forest encouraged a certain kind of mushroom to grow.

Right now, she held a small-capped matsutake mushroom in her hand. Some people didn't like the way they smelled, but Maomao loved them. Quartered matsutake mushrooms, grilled on a grate with a dash of salt and a squeeze of citrus over them, was her idea of heaven.

It was a modest copse, but as she'd found a convenient cluster of the mushrooms, she put five of them in her basket.

Should I eat them at the old fogey's place, or in the kitchen? She couldn't do it at the Jade Pavilion; there would be too many questions about where she'd gotten the ingredients. They might not smile upon a serving woman admitting she had gathered the mushrooms herself from the grove. So Maomao went instead to see the doctor, the man who was so good with people and so bad at his job. If he liked matsutake mushrooms, too, then all was well; and if not, she figured he would still be kind enough to look the other way. Maomao had by now completely ingratiated herself with the loach-mustached man.

She couldn't forget to go by Xiaolan's place on the way. Xiaolan was an important source of information for Maomao, who otherwise had few friends.

When Maomao had come back from Lihua's residence, looking thinner than ever from the effort of helping the consort, the other ladies-in-waiting had undertaken to plumpen her up. On the one hand, Maomao was happy about this—it showed she hadn't fallen out of the ladies' good graces despite having been with a rival consort almost two months—but on the other, it was nearly as frustrating as it was gratifying. She had a little basket that began to bulge with the extra treats she received every time tea was served.

Xiaolan, however, would never turn down something sweet; her eyes would light up at the sight of whatever Maomao had brought her, and she would be more than happy to take a short break, munching on sweets and chatting Maomao's ear off in equal measure.

Now they sat behind the laundry area on a couple of barrels, talking about this and that. Stories of strange happenings made up the bulk of it, as usual, but among other things, Xiaolan told Maomao: "I heard one of the palace women used a potion to get some hard-hearted soldier type to fall in love with her, and it worked!"

Maomao broke into a cold sweat at that. Probably nothing to do with me, right? Probably.

Looking back on it, she realized she never had thought to ask who that love potion was for. But did it really matter? "The palace" meant the actual palace, not the rear palace, which meant it had happened safely outside. The palace proper had actual, functioning men, so appointment there was a popular prospect for which competition was fierce. Unlike the women who served in the rear palace, these were elites who had passed serious tests to gain their positions.

Let it be said that, insofar as actual, functioning men were absent, the rear palace could seem a rather more lonely assignment. Not that it mattered to Maomao. 

When Maomao arrived at the medical office, she found the loach mustached old man in the company of a pale-faced eunuch whom she didn't recognize. He was continually rubbing his hand.

"Ah, just the young woman I wanted to see," the doctor said with his most welcoming smile.

"Yes, what is it?"