Chapter 1: Books
“What are you doing?” asked the thoroughly perplexed eunuch Jinshi, who looked as gorgeous as he always did. His attendant Gaoshun stood behind him.
“I should think that would be obvious,” Maomao said, wiping away sweat as she stood over a burning cookstove. Beside her was the quack doctor, fanning himself with his hand and obviously finding the heat rather unpleasant. While he worked assiduously—Maomao needed an assistant, what with her leg still healing—she couldn’t help thinking his movements were as flabby as he was. Maybe she was hoping for too much.
They were using the cookstove in the medical office to heat a very unusual stewpot. From the lid of the pot emerged a long tube that ran through some cool water, causing droplets to form at the end, where they were then collected in a small vessel. This distilling device was one of the discoveries of their recent cleaning spree. It pained Maomao to know that such a valuable object had sat unused in a storage room for so long. The air was full of the smell of flowers; a bevy of petals occupied the pot.
“We’re making perfume,” Maomao said. She had a wonderful source of petals in the roses she had cultivated for the garden party not long before.
“It’s certainly...aromatic.”
“The smell is fairly mild compared to wild roses. And we’ll thin it out further with oil and water.”
Over the generations, humans had fashioned roses to their liking, favoring beauty and richness of color at the expense of smell. That was simply the way of the world; you couldn’t ask for everything or you would get nothing.
Jinshi peered at the distiller interestedly. When the doctor, who had been industriously transporting firewood, realized the other man was there, he started brushing the dust and dirt off his clothes with all the self-consciousness of an adolescent girl. Smoothing his mustache and beard with his fingers, he asked, “To what do we owe the honor, sir?”
Jinshi’s face darkened; Maomao didn’t think the doctor meant anything by his question, but Jinshi seemed to resent the way it had been asked. “No one could fail to notice a smell this strong,” he replied, his lips forming into a slight pout. Nearby, Gaoshun’s brow furrowed.
He thinks Jinshi needs more gravitas, Maomao guessed. The quack doctor was oblivious enough that it didn’t much matter, but being important meant never looking less than distinguished.
Maomao got up from her chair, took some tea snacks from a shelf (she was well aware by now that the quack kept his most valuable treats on the highest one), and put them on the table. Jinshi sat down; Maomao picked up a mooncake, took a bite for good measure to show that it wasn’t dangerous, and then passed them to him.
“I suppose you’re doing this here because it would be more difficult at the Jade Pavilion,” Jinshi said.
“Yes, that’s part of it.” Maomao wiped the grease off her fingers and resumed her place by the cookstove. She changed the vessel at the end of the tube for a different one. After a moment, a greasy substance began to fill it: perfume oil. “The other part is this: perfume oil contains an ingredient that can potentially abort a pregnancy. As long as a woman doesn’t drink a concentrated dose of the stuff, she should be fine, but still...”
She glanced around, making sure the quack wasn’t too close. He was a very friendly person, but he had loose lips. It was too soon to let him know that the mistress of the Jade Pavilion, Consort Gyokuyou, was pregnant.
“In other words, there’s no special need to regulate the perfume oil being used in the rear palace, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes, sir, I think it should be all right.” Making rules about every little detail would only make their lives harder. Besides, enforcement would be difficult in such a large place.
Jinshi looked at the other pot on the stove. It didn’t have a pleasant fragrance like the one full of rose petals; instead, breathing whatever was in this pot made his head spin. “What’s this one?” he asked.
“That’s alcohol,” Maomao said.
Through repeated distillation, it was possible to achieve a very high concentration of alcohol. Indeed, this stuff was strong enough to make Jinshi feel drunk just by taking a sniff. It wasn’t for drinking, but would be used for sterilization. The warm season was coming, when bad air could accumulate and cause physical harm. With a little princess at the Jade Pavilion, they would want everything to be as clean as possible. Maomao was even making a bit more than she needed so she could leave a supply here at the medical office, where it would see plenty of use.
“You can use it to clean things?” Jinshi asked.
“Yes; I hear that’s what they do in the west.” This was one of the little factoids she’d gleaned from hearing about her adoptive father’s experiences studying in the western lands. If there was anything at all that set her apart, Maomao thought, it was the knowledge she’d gotten from him.
“As I recall, the man who adopted you was—”
Before Jinshi could finish, though, they heard a great thump. Gaoshun poked his head outside to see what it was. Two eunuchs had arrived at the medical office with a massive box and had set it down just outside the door.
“What’s this about?” Gaoshun inquired of the doctor.
“Ah, the young lady requested it.”
Maomao glared at the quack to shut him up, but she was too late. Jinshi had already taken an interest in the delivery, beginning to unpack it. She wished he wouldn’t touch it without asking.
“Master Jinshi, the tea is ready. Please, have a seat and enjoy it,” she said.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Just something from my home. Nothing of interest, I assure you.”
Unfortunately, Jinshi looked very intrigued indeed. I can’t believe this guy, Maomao thought. She—yes, even she—was a woman. She wished he would have the decency not to look at a moment like this. But instead she cast her eyes to the ground and said, “I-It’s full of underwear, sir.”
Jinshi promptly took his hand away, looking unsettled. That’s right, just leave it alone, Maomao thought at him without looking up, but reality is rarely so accommodating.