Chapter Text
Scents mattered in the world of the night.
People said a woman could captivate a man with the fragrance of currants, and that two drops of mimosa were enough to stir a heart. To secure a profitable patron, a woman needed only the sweetness of vanilla. In the pleasure district, one could tell whether a courtesan wished to be bought simply by how sweet her robes smelled.
To awaken passions that ended in death, however, a touch of roses was enough.
Like all legends, there was some truth behind it.
Luomen had once explained to Maomao that certain scents could alter the human heart. Even a child on the verge of death could slip away peacefully when surrounded by the fragrance of their mother.
Personally, Maomao preferred the sharp tang of medicine, the burning bite of alcohol and jasmine.
When she stepped down from the carriage in front of Jinshi's residence, before dawn had yet broken, she raised the tiny box to her nose once again.
As she breathed in, the fragrance of roses flooded her senses.
Suiren appeared moments later, her hair freshly arranged in its usual bun, concern already written across her forehead.
"Have you had breakfast, Xiaomao?" the elderly woman asked with her customary kindness.
Maomao was about to decline when Miss Chue, who had accompanied her in an unusually quiet silence all the way there, grabbed her by the arm, already looking ready to eat.
"She hasn't had time. If you wouldn't mind preparing something light, we'd be very grateful."
"Young Master's breakfast is almost ready anyway," Suiren replied with a warm smile. "You can share it."
"Miss Chue has no objection to sharing with Miss Maomao," the petite woman declared with complete seriousness as she bounced behind her.
Suiren never had the chance to answer.
The dining room door slid open, revealing Taomei, her posture rigid and her single sharp eye carrying the weight of a tiger's stare.
"Miss Chue will dine in the servants' quarters, alongside the rest of us."
Horror flashed across Miss Chue's face before she hurriedly buried it beneath an obedient smile, unwilling to earn her mother-in-law's displeasure.
Taomei possessed the rare ability to intimidate even the strongest of men. Despite being blind in one eye, she hardly needed two to keep everyone in line.
One glance toward Gaoshun proved as much.
He had wisely avoided attracting his wife's attention altogether, fixing his gaze instead on the entrance to Jinshi's room, where his master was waiting.
Feeling a pang of sympathy for her friend's tragic fate, the terrible fate of spending several hours hungry, Maomao gave Miss Chue a reassuring pat on the arm before heading toward Jinshi's chambers.
The elegant paper door slid open with very little grace, the victim of someone's impatience.
Beyond it, Jinshi's beautiful face found hers almost instantly.
"Maomao? What happened? Why did you request Gaoshun's presence? Are you alright?"
His concern was unmistakable.
A little unnecessary, considering he could plainly see she was in one piece.
Maomao waved a hand, as though she could brush his questions out of the air. Even so, she lowered her head respectfully the moment she felt Taomei's piercing gaze settle on the back of her neck.
She had the distinct impression the woman would personally murder her if she dared show even the slightest disrespect toward her master.
"My apologies for disturbing you, Moon Prince. We encountered a small problem at the Verdigris House, but the situation is under control... for the moment."
Jinshi frowned in concentration.
Behind him, Taomei turned toward her husband in silent search of an explanation.
Moments later, Suiren appeared carrying breakfast.
The rich aroma of the steaming meat made Maomao's mouth water.
Jinshi, however, seemed interested only in devouring information.
Unlike the days when she had served as a poison taster, she was no longer allowed to touch the food before he did.
After a brief internal struggle, and a silent nod of confirmation from Gaoshun behind her, Maomao tucked her hands into her sleeves and decided to put an end to everyone's curiosity.
“There was a murder at the Verdigris House, sir.”
Jinshi’s expression sharpened with curiosity as the small mother-of-pearl box, wrapped in a handkerchief, was placed in his hands.
"One of the Shin clan's heirs was found dead with this in his room."
The Moon Prince lifted his head, his face paling the moment he recognized the flower engraved into the metal.
“It seems someone wants to implicate the imperial family.”
Maomao almost opened her mouth to point out that it was only a theory. The only alternative, however, was considerably worse.
That the Ka family truly was involved.
If she had been forced to speculate about which member of the Imperial bloodline might order such a murder master Jinshi would have ranked near the very bottom of the list.
Fortunately for everyone involved, Maomao had no intention of risking her life by entertaining the thought of the name that appears first on the list aloud.
Jinshi let out a long sigh and rested his forehead against one hand.
Between the endless mountain of paperwork and the court's remarkable tendency to drag him into every shadowy affair that surfaced, Maomao was beginning to suspect his headaches would soon become a chronic illness.
If she'd had any choice in the matter, she wouldn't have involved him at all.
But with the Ka seal, there had been no alternative.
Even so, she found herself quietly reproaching herself for giving him yet another headache.
She had no right to resent the people who made him ill if she herself belonged among them.
Lost in that tangled web of self-reproach, Maomao had stopped listening. The warmth of Jinshi’s large hand settling gently over hers pulled her back.
The concern written across that beautiful face only deepened her guilt.
“My apologies, sir... What were you saying?”
“I asked whether you have any suspicions about the poison the courtesan and the Shin heir ingested.”
Gaoshun and Miss Chue watched her expectantly from the doorway. Taomei, meanwhile, had narrowed her eye enough to communicate exactly how much she disapproved of Maomao's inattention.
“The symptoms don't match any poison I'm familiar with,” she murmured.
Ignorance settled across the back of her neck like muscle stiffness brought on by venom itself.
She knew her knowledge had limits, most of the time the chance to study something unfamiliar thrilled her. But with a nobleman's corpse inside the Verdigris House and Jinshi's troublesome family somehow entangled in the affair, the mystery was nothing but a nuisance.
“It resembles pufferfish toxin, but the muscle rigidity doesn't fit, nor the way he was clinging to the courtesan. Her limbs were twisted as well. They looked tortured. Pufferfish poisoning is... gentler.”
Her thoughts drifted to the memory of the familiar tingling at the tip of her tongue, and excitement made her heart stumble in her chest.
“Tetrodotoxin relaxes the muscles. It brings a growing sense of unease as the body slowly becomes paralyzed. The sphincters give way, the tingling spreads... and eventually, the lungs simply stop working.”
Silence settled over the room.
Only then did Maomao realize everyone was staring at her.
With what little dignity remained, she folded her hands back inside her sleeves and hid behind them.
“They're different, sir. It would be best to consult an apothecary who's had access to a wider range of substances. One of the Imperial herbalists, perhaps.”
Miss Chue let out a light giggle, drawing every eye toward her.
“Miss Chue happens to know that the deceased Shin heir's wedding had already been postponed because his fiancée had fallen ill. Perhaps we should pay her a visit.”
Taomei had barely opened her mouth to scold the interruption when the bedroom door slid open again. Suiren entered carrying a plate piled high with sautéed mushrooms.
The elderly lady-in-waiting surveyed everyone with unmistakable disapproval.
“If you don't eat soon, your breakfast will grow cold, young master.”
Her gaze shifted to Maomao.
"And Xiaomao..."
Maomao instinctively shrank beneath the woman's careful inspection.
“I've prepared extra for you. You're far too thin.”
That motherly command, firm yet accompanied by a gentle smile, dissolved the tension in the room.
Once everyone had left and Jinshi finally lifted his chopsticks toward his meal, Maomao released a quiet sigh, already slipping the first mushroom between her lips.
“If you're tired, you can sleep here for a while,” Jinshi offered, concern softening his voice.
She shook her head, lowering her gaze to the bowl.
It wasn't only exhaustion weighing on her mind.
She couldn't stop thinking that, had the murderer not been so eager to kill, perhaps there would have been a little of that rose-scented powder left for her to sprinkle over her rice.
Even so, Maomao kept her lips firmly sealed as she ate.
There were some things she couldn’t tell Jinshi.
For example; what she intended to do if she ever managed to find another sample of that poison.
Despite her silence, Jinshi watched her for a long moment with quiet suspicion.
Unfortunately, he knew her rather too well when it came to such hobbies.
Maomao kept her eyes fixed dutifully on the rice.
She wasn't about to let Jinshi or Gaoshun ruin another experiment.
She would simply have to be more careful.
Jinshi cleared his throat.
Maomao forced the corners of her mouth back into place, they had started curling upward entirely on their own.
Hiding her plans was going to be difficult.
Maomao's medical uniform blended discreetly into the halls of the Imperial Herbal Repository.
The sharp, bitter scent of medicinal herbs reached them long before Maomao and Chue arrived at the entrance.
Miss Chue had shown up outside the infirmary shortly after Maomao's shift had begun, offering to accompany her after Maomao had loudly announced that she needed to stop by the repository to fetch some calendula.
Doctor Liu had given her a stern look as she left but wisely chose not to comment. He had always possessed an uncanny instinct for court affairs.
By the time she returned to her duties, Maomao was certain an impressive pile of bandages would be waiting to be scrubbed.
When they stepped through the doorway, the herbal dispensary was empty.
Maomao paused for a few seconds, admiring the endless rows of wooden drawers.
Her fingers twitched with temptation.
Before she could so much as brush one of the brass handles to peek inside, a court herbalist emerged from behind the counter.
The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and pleasantly built. He watched her for a moment before clearing his throat, his gaze fixed on the hand already resting against the wood.
Maomao folded her hands neatly in front of herself and regarded him through that fragile façade of politeness.
"Good morning. Would you mind telling Herbalist Qiao that he has visitors?"
Before the question had fully left her lips, she placed a narrow letter on the counter, its seal bearing the crest of the Ma clan.
Maamei had suggested using that seal instead of the Moon Prince's. With a mysterious death already involving the Ka family's emblem, invoking the Imperial Household directly seemed... unwise.
The man rubbed his chin in search of a beard that wasn't there before letting out a quiet sigh.
"I am Qiao. But if this concerns the Ma family... I'd rather we speak inside."
As they crossed the wooden doorway separating the Outer Court from what could only be described as paradise, Maomao found herself wondering how the herbalist knew the true weight carried by the Ma surname.
Inside, the scents that had already set her heart fluttering grew even richer.
An involuntary squeal escaped her lips.
Paradise smelled of bitter herbs and drying medicine.
Shelves overflowed with plants in every stage of growth. Some windows stood wide open while others were barely cracked, each carefully adjusted to create the perfect environment for whatever herbs grew nearby.
Natural colors spilled across the worktables as well, where flowers, stems, and leaves lay drying in neat arrangements.
Four assistants worked in complete concentration over drying racks and mortars.
Somewhere deeper within the room, two crickets chirped in steady rhythm, as though the gods themselves had descended to bless the place.
Only one sound disturbed the sanctity of the atmosphere.
A dull metallic clanging.
Like pieces of metal repeatedly striking one another.
The noise grew steadily louder as Qiao led them toward a smaller adjoining room, seeking greater privacy.
As they passed, three of the herbalists lifted their heads from their work, all turning toward the increasingly alarming racket.
"Miss Maomao, miss Maomao..." Chue whispered into her ear. "You're laughing in a very frightening way."
The instant Maomao clenched her teeth shut, the sound stopped.
The disappointed stares returned to their work.
"If you're suffering from any... emotional difficulties," the herbalist offered carefully as he guided them toward a small wooden table scarred with countless scratches and tiny dents, the marks of many years of use, "we have passionflower and lemon balm tea."
"Do you happen to have anything to snack on while we talk?" Miss Chue asked instead.
Maomao wasn't entirely certain whether her friend's abrupt change of subject was meant to distract everyone from her recent outburst or simply to raid the herbal dispensary's sweets.
She suspected the latter.
When Qiao returned carrying a plate of red bean baozi, Miss Chue immediately withdrew from the conversation to devote herself entirely to stuffing her cheeks with sweet filling.
"So," Qiao asked, suspicion etched into the fine wrinkles beginning to form across his forehead, "what brings you here?"
He must have been the sort of man who worried far too much.
Few people developed expression lines that early without constant concern.
Maomao slipped her hands back into her sleeves before producing a folded sheet of paper listing every symptom she had observed during the examination of the two bodies.
"Do you know of any substance capable of producing these symptoms?"
The herbalist studied the list for quite some time.
Thoughtfully.
Instead of reaching once more for the clean-shaven chin that expected a beard, he absentmindedly rubbed the lobe of his right ear between two fingers.
The gesture reminded Maomao of Jinshi. Whenever he grew anxious, he had the habit of tapping one finger against his arm.
The man was nervous.
Interesting.
The herbalist slid the sheet of paper back across the table toward Maomao.
"It could be tetrodotoxin, but the rigidity resembles the convulsions caused by tea seeds, hemlock... perhaps yew or belladonna. It's rather confusing, because the loss of sphincter control and the dark-colored urine could also point to the venom of a sea snake. Did you examine their fingertips? Any puncture wounds? And the throat? Was it constricted or relaxed?" He withdrew his hand and folded his arms. "There are too many loose ends. There's nothing conclusive here."
"Death aside," she pointed out.
The man nodded.
"Death aside."
"E-excuse me... Master Qiao."
Everyone turned toward the doorway.
The only apprentice among the four who hadn't even looked up when Maomao had unconsciously started clicking her teeth together, now stood nervously at the entrance. His clothes and hands were stained dark by herbal extracts.
"I-I-I came to borrow some p-p-pruning shears... and I h-heard that..."
"This is a private discussion, Xilian. Return to your work."
Qiao's hand flew back to his ear as he dismissed his apprentice.
"No, wait," Miss Chue interrupted, her mouth still full of steamed bun. "Do you know anything about the substance we're discussing?"
The young man immediately paled.
"Please," Qiao said sharply, slapping one hand against the table, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrogate my apprentices."
"I rather think the boy has something to contribute to the Ma family's investigation, don't you?" Miss Chue cut in, casually stuffing another baozi into her mouth while quietly securing two more for later.
The apprentice, a plump young man with rosy cheeks, blushed all the way to his hairline.
"Y-yes, my lady. W-what you've d-described... sounds like the effects of Q-Q-Qing Du... if administered in a rather high dose."
"The Love Poison?" Maomao asked, utterly captivated by a name like that. "I've never heard of it."
The boy nearly jumped at receiving that level of genuine interest.
With more confidence than he'd shown until now, he straightened his back and nodded eagerly.
"Y-yes. It's a n-new drug that's become popular in the capital. W-we've been trying to isolate its individual c-c-components. It comes from the Northern Province and it's become very p-popular in the pleasure district."
His explanation lingered awkwardly in the air for several seconds before the enthusiastic apprentice realized what he'd just admitted.
"O-or... th-that's what people say."
Miss Chue let out a soft giggle, sending a few breadcrumbs flying.
"Another drug enthusiast who somehow knows all about the pleasure district. One more hopeless little scholar."
Deeply offended, Maomao snatched the last baozi from Chue's hand and promptly shoved it into her own mouth.
Miss Chue's indignant protest died behind a muffled gasp.
Across the table, the studious herbal apprentice had gone bright red all over again.
While the two women exchanged irritated glances with their cheeks puffed full of food, and the poor apprentice breathed nervously in the background, Maomao silently rolled the poisonous name across her tongue once more.
How violently would a heart beat... under the effects of Qing Du?
The Love Poison.