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Jinshi first really suspects it when he hears about the events at the garden party, and the food taster who announced the poison being Maomao. Admittedly, some things about her had thrown him off, but the idea was so outlandish that he only entertained it humorously one or two times before then. He knew her specialty was in poisons, so there was that, and the fact that living in the pleasure district ones whole life could inevitably lead to a few wires getting crossed.
It’s only a little while later, during a leisurely stroll that he hears all these stories about a taster who seemed to be enjoying her job a little too much, with a broad smile and flushed cheeks. Like she was a little too excited to partake. He knew who that had to be, and sure enough, it was Maomao.
He doesn't truly suspect her of it until he sees her face when she asks for more of the poisoned soup.
Her eyes are watery, there’s still a blush in her cheeks and she is panting, perhaps from adrenaline. She seems so disappointed when he denies her. She seems even more sulky after he makes her empty her stomach. She laments under her breath not being allowed to consume it. More than that, she seems used to coughing it up too, as if poisoning herself was a regular and even welcome occurrence. It creeps him out a little at first, but as he gets to know Maomao more, he pushes the inkling to the side of his mind. He almost lets himself forget about it, and it’s almost gone by the time the next thing happens that reminds him of it.
The next few times after that, it glances off of him. A soft admiration or a bewildered noise followed by a unreasonable acceptance that “that’s just Maomao”. A blindness, an intentional ignorance toward her absurd actions as he desperately tried to rationalize it.
But more and more, the way Maomao reacted to toxins and poisons made him uneasy. He is a man of logic, and his brain itched to come to a logical conclusion. But there is nothing logical about this situation. There is no logical reason for Maomao to get this excited.
He will give her one thing, she knows what a situation calls for. If there is a dead body infront of her, or a real case, she is professional. She focuses on what needs to be focused on and is wary in all the right ways. Only after major things go wrong does he find her in a bad mood, or in some trouble. Otherwise she is perfectly professional.
But in her own practice? Jinshi starts to loose count of all the dangerous things he’s had to take away from her, like taking away a child's toys. And the way she sulks after, like she watched him bar the gates of heaven because he took away some violent poison or the other. Sometimes he walks in on her using a grinder, and when he pokes his head in, she ushers him out for fear of his own poisoning. She warns him off consuming anything in her room because it might be poisoned, and when he is rightfully alarmed at the idea of an assassination attempt, she makes sure to clarify she would be the only culprit in such a situation.
When Jinshi gave her that rare caterpillar fungus, she looked at it in utter euphoria. She sold herself and potentially her body in a snap, without a second thought. For a poison? It baffles Jinshi. He doesn’t understand that level of dedication to one thing.
One day, he asks what her favorite poison is. He wants to hear her speak. She goes on a long tangent, about the effects of each. Sometimes she would add in the effects they had in her specifically. She didn’t like ones that caused nausea or diarrhea. She liked ones with stimulant effects. She likes most types of mild snake venom for how they make her veins go sore.
Something she says when talking about neurotoxins catches his attention though. She says something about how she loved the feeling of going fuzzy and numb, and twitching uncontrollably, only able to sit and drool while left oversensitive and buzzing. The way she describes it makes his lids droop and his mind go cottony while imagining Maomao like that under him. He snaps out of it when Maomao dreamily trails off, then looks embarrassed at getting ahead of herself. Meanwhile Jinshi’s eyes are wide as saucers. He sees the blush on her cheeks, the way her eyes are unfocused and her pupils are dilated. She has a silly grin on her face and she licks her lips.
What?!?
It sends him into a crisis. Hes sure of it, but doubt keeps bringing him back to the same thing; why? Why choose this, of all things?
•••••••
His curiosity gets the better of him one night when he happens to be drunk. He calls Maomao to his room and she looks pissed when she notices the platter with two sake cups and a gourd of alcohol. Jinshi still pats the floor beside him and asks her to join him for a drink. She agrees, though he laughs at the conflicted look on her face.
When finally, finally, Maomao seems to relax in the quiet, Jinshi breaks it.
“Are you into poison?” Jinshi asks, then stutters “I-I mean, like. I don't know, never mind.” He tries immediatly to backtrack, but it's already too late. A significantly less drunk, but still tipsy Maomao, can’t seem to find words. She bristles defensively and glares. Her face is beet red and she looks like he has just called her father every name in the book and threw sand in her eyes. She looks ready to slap him. Jinshi knows he has messed up.
“No! It's not- that's not it…” Maomao shouts at first, then gets weaker as she realizes no defense could possibly hold up. She inhales and begins again in a very matter of fact voice. “Look, poisons are a big part of my life, it's only natural that they excite and interest me. I don’t get horned up looking at poisoning victims or anything. I don’t know…” She struggles to articulate her thoughts, something Jinshi does not see often. “It just feels nice, I think. Feeling things you don't normally feel, knowing you are doing it to yourself.” She prickles defensively with a venomous (ha!) glare when she remembers her present company though. “It’s not weird, OK?! The courtesans in the pleasure district had wilder tastes than me, I just have a unique specialty. And anyways, why are you drunk? Are you just wasting time? Go to sleep-“
Jinshi is taken aback at her explanation, but supposes he can understand her argument. He just can’t seem to put the pieces together though.
“I wanna try it…” he slurs, under his breath. Maomao stops in her tracks and its her turn to go wide eyed. She looks at him uncertainly.
“It’s a lot of work, and it takes a toll on your body. You aren’t thinking right, you’re drunk. I'm leaving, go to bed” Maomao rushes to say. She has this little spark of interest in her eye, and Jinshi is certain that their difference in status is at least part of the reason she tries to disengage.
“Then lemme see you.” Maomao stops in her tracks when Jinshi grabs her skirt as she gets up to go. He takes his hands off very quickly as he remembers to mind at least one of his manners tonight. She looks down at him and blushes furiously. She has this look on her face making him think she suspects she’s being teased. He seeks to clarify. “I’mean it.” he slurs, “The other day, when you talked about the neurotoxin. Made me feel all fuzzy. Dizzy. Wanna see you like that” he slurs, unpacking something he wasn't even aware was in his brain. Was this something he was into as well? He was too drunk to put up as much of a fight against the idea as he wishes he could. Maomao likes it, and he likes Maomao. That’s good enough for his simple, intoxicated brain.
Maomao takes a deep breath in, looking embarrassed. She leans down to whisper in his ear. “If you find me pufferfish liver, I’ll let you help me test it out. Ok?” She always wants something in return. Jinshi stares up at her, dazed, and hardly notices when she makes off with two gourds of expensive liquor.
He blacks out that night, so he doesn't know what actually happens after that. The next morning he wakes up with a pounding headache and a glass of water beside his bed. The night rushes back to him in stunning detail. He gives himself the morning off to fully process this new information about himself while completely sober. He wonders where he went wrong. He wishes it hadn’t been Maomao who had came to his door.
He sends out feelers for puffer fish liver that afternoon.
By the end of the month he has a few sachets full of powdered pufferfish liver. Jinshi didn’t know how she liked to take it, and tried to live with the absurdity of a preferred consumption method of poison. It sits in his room waiting for him to break.
It happens eventually, Jinshi is driven mad with curiosity and a hint of desire. Hell, who is he kidding, a lot more desire than a normal person would probably feel.
He knocks on Maomao’s door and at first she looks confused. Her gaze drifts to his outstretched hand, and the labeled sachets in his palm, and her eyes light up. “I didn’t think you’d even remember, let alone actually- Thank you Jinshi!” She looks so giddy it warms his heart and sends it beating like a jackrabbit. “Uh, do you still want to see me…?” she asks, as if afraid to broach the topic. Jinshi nods resolutely. She looks very shocked, then wipes that look off of her face and gives him a smirk. “It will take me a while to figure out my tolerance. I’ll tell you when I'm ready, and that day, come to my room at midnight.” Then as a goodbye, she kisses his cheek.
He stands there frozen as she shuts her door in his face, and for at least a few minutes afterward. When he picks his jaw up off the floor, he staggers back to his room. He has a wet dream that night, like a teenager, about Maomao grinding on his thigh and telling him all about how good mountain laurel tastes. Another morning of admitting to himself that this was what he liked now, and he got back to work. The first few days it is impossible to get any work done. He keeps hoping the next knock at the door will be Maomao, only to be disappointed. And whenever he does see Maomao, she never gives him any sort of signal.
So he waits.
And he waits.
Soon enough, a week passes, and then two, and on the beginning of the third week he starts to suspect he was scammed out of some poison after asking a rude question. But that's OK! He can live with that! He understands, really, and he was way out of bounds anyways, so he did have it coming. Really, he's fine!
...
He can't get it out of his mind, though. There's a dissatisfaction that curls in his gut now at the thought that nothing will ever come of this, and this too will probably fade into the past until he forgets he ever had such an unusual fixation. Until he forgets that at one point, his whole mind was occupied by Maomao and everything she is, unavoidable in the best ways
But when he least expects it, Maomao and her strangeness, or, their strangeness he supposes, barges into his life again. “I’m ready. My room tonight. Don’t make a sound.” she whispers under her breath as she passes his desk. She hides her face from his attendant and shushes him with one finger to her lips. Then, like a breeze in summer, she is gone, leaving Jinshi to wonder how this woman is real.
No more work gets done that evening.
He heads to bed early, to bathe and rest briefly before whatever was about to happen with Maomao. He truly had no clue. There was no precedent for this sort of thing. What do you do when the girl you like gives you a strange fixation for poisoning? No library book in the inner palace would dare speak of such a thing, but somehow he doubted he would find it even in the pleasure district.
At midnight, he knocks on her door. She opens the door quickly and pulls him in by the neckline of his robe. When he stumbles into the room, there is a towel laid out, and some incense. His eyes flicker around until he finds it. A small sachet, open, the poison he had given her divvied into several much smaller doses. He blushes.
“There’s a few things you have to know." Maomao turns her back to Jinshi, hands flitting about on her desk. She spins around and presents a small sachet of a dark powder he thinks he recognizes. "First, here is the antidote. It’s ground charcoal. It will help my body quickly recover. Second, you can’t touch me after I take the dose, nor any of the tools I used. It’s much too dangerous for you to do it, as you don’t have any kind of built up immunity. The only exception is if I flip onto my back. I won’t be taken out of commission with paralysis, but it will be hard for me to regulate my own body.” Jinshi nods. All this seems to be wise. This woman is a skilled apothecary, and he trusts her implicitly not to kill herself. Maomao turns to her desk again, opening the sachet of toxin with a joyful gasp. Jinshi feels giddy that a gift he brought inspired this much mirth.
Maomao continues her safety briefing as she prepares a paste with it, speaking over the sound of grinding stones. “If anything goes wrong, feed me the charcoal and force me to drink water. The effects should fade rather quickly as it is a small dose, but again, this is all just in case.” She talks with him more on what to do just in case, answering his questions competently and patiently. She has an answer for anything he throws at her. Jinshi feels like everything is under control and a lot of trepidation about the whole thing goes away. He finds himself no longer conflicted knowing how many precautions Maomao is taking.
“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Maomao forces him to make eye contact, and just like the night he gave her the poison, he nods.
“I haven’t been able to get my mind off the idea of you. Please.” Jinshi states confidently, and Maomao looks eager to do just what he wants her to.
She grabs a small paint spatula, one she bought from a traveling merchant selling in the compound, and scoops up the rest of the toxin, putting it carefully into a tightly sealed glass jar. She picks up a small cookie Jinshi didn't even notice and brings it to her lips. Jinshi realizes that the toxin is spread on top, just the littlest amount. She eats it in one bite and savors it. Then she stands, lays on her side in her bed, and shoves a thick leather strap in her mouth.
Jinshi isn’t sure what he expected. Something more violent, he guesses? But the scene that unfolds before him is beautiful, if a little violent.
He sits down to watch her. She begins first to drool around the leather. It falls from her mouth as the blush on her face gets brighter and brighter. He watches her pupils begin to dilate and thin rapidly. Her breathing quickens. She looks like she is falling apart. She begins to twitch, and he hears the first muffled moan now. A small, sharp noise, that he barely catches. But it happens again, and again. Low groans that escape her lips, strained, husky noises falling from her lips, a litany of noises that make him shudder.
As she twitches on the bed, she moans and drools at the feeling of the toxin coursing through her. His eyes pick out every little movement, every moment, every little exhale. He can tell it’s worn off enough for any sort of immediate danger to be gone when Maomao groans and spits out the leather. She moans wantonly into her palm. He is fully hard now, and it just becomes painful as he watches one of her hands slide under her skirt, her whole body still twitching, while she makes unintelligible noises. She whines, her still weak and clumsy body not obeying the command to seek pleasure. He stares. She beckons him forward with the same hand that was under her skirt moments ago.
There's something to be said for hearing exactly how much of an effect the poison had on her, through the loud, wet, noises that come from under her skirt. There is also something to be said for seeing the evidence on the fingers she uses to beckon him forward. With both those being said, feeling the effect with his own hands was much better.
She was soaking wet. If there has ever been a doubt in his mind that this was real, this was concrete proof. He lets out a stuttering sigh of disbelief. He’s not sure he has ever felt more aroused in his life. A blush burns brightly on his cheeks and his pupils are blown to an exaggerated size. He can’t hide how much this does to him now, even if he wanted to.
Maomao lets his fingers explore for a bit. He rubs his fingers leisurely, up and down through her dripping cunt. Eventually she whines for more, using her own hands to try to guide him. They are still imprecise and clumsy, but the way they jump with much less grace than she possesses day to day makes him flustered. She gives up with teary eyes, and he takes over. Luckily, he had been given the chance to screen several of the novels being brought into the inner palace. Research always comes in handy.
He rubs her clit gently, and she sobs. It’s a full body shaking, hitched breath, cry, but when she rocks with it, it makes her shake uncontrollably for a moment. Her arms are wrapped around his neck as tears run down her cheeks and she looks… she looks beautiful. And completely wrecked. Just done for. He drifts his fingers down to her hole and slowly sinks a finger, then another inside her warm wet heat experimentally. She clenches around his fingers sporadically, and it makes his dick twitch and him gulp when he realizes the poison affects this too. She whines and scrabbles ineffectively at his back when he sets a pace, not too deep, and very slow strokes. His thumb brushes her clit every time he sinks the first two knuckles into her, and she writhes on his fingers. He licks his lips.
The noises she is making are downright filthy, making Jinshi’s ears burn. He wonders if she never had to worry about keeping the volume down in her life. “More, pl- ah! please!!” she begs. Who is Jinshi to deny her? He picks up his pace and adds another finger. She is so wet that it is almost too easy. She whines around the stretch, but her nails dig into his back when he begins to firmly rub her clit. She tries to get away, tries to meet him, her hips jump wildly and her eyes go wide as if she is hurtling toward a cliff. It’s a hell of a cliff, and it’s one he plans on throwing her off.
She climaxes hard, curling in on herself involuntarily from the intensity of it. Jinshi works his fingers in and out of her slowly still as she comes down. Her chest, decorated in red blotches, rises and falls rapidly. Her eyes are closed as she pants. Jinshi finally pulls his fingers out of her warm, wet cunt and she makes a pitiful noise to mourn the loss. Her watery eyes flutter open, moisture clinging to her lashes.
Meanwhile Jinshi kneels in front of her and grabs her knees, prying her legs apart for a clear view of her dripping wet sex. Maomao inhales sharply then swings an arm over her eyes and relaxes backward. Jinshi grins and licks his lips. He feels like a canary about to eat a cat with the pouting expression she peers down her nose at him with. Normally, she spends all her time glaring at him, trying to refrain from insulting him. Now, she is pliant and wanting , though she still retains her air of single-minded focus.
“May I partake, my lady?” Jinshi teases, though his eyes are glued to where he spreads her cunt apart with his thumbs, her hips twitching into his touch. She shivers when the cold air brushes her wet thighs.
“Isn’t there much better work for your mouth right now?” She asks, just a hint of a desperate whine in her chest. Her voice is quiet and a little hoarse, and there,s a tremble in it that thrills JInshi.
“I think I might have a few ideas,” Jinshi agrees with a satisfied grin as he begins to kiss Maomao’s still shaking thighs. He kisses upward, to where the thigh meets the pubic mound, then a peck right over her clit before he shifts to kissing her other thigh. She begins to feel frustrated, mind still fuzzy and simple from the toxin.
“Please stop teasing…” Maomao says quietly. It makes Jinshi blush himself, realizing he got a bit carried away. So he brings his face to her cunt, blows some cold air onto her clit, then begins eating her out like a man starved.
All he can think about is how beautiful she is when she falls apart, when she is absolutely helpless. She is a woman who he looks to for her reliability and headstrong attitude, and now she is writhing under him uncontrollably, needing to be put back together afterwards. It makes his cock harden to a painful degree.
He swallows sip after sip of her until he feels drunk, like her nectar is an ambrosia. He feels dizzy with arousal as she moans and whines above him. His head is emptying out, even more so when her still clumsy hands reach down to clutch his hair weakly. To pull him in further.
What does her in is a trick he had learned while overhearing a conversation with one of the many consorts who slept with women. He wraps his lips around her sensitive bud and sucks, lathing his tongue over the nub as well. It sends her into a sobbing, overwhelming, shuddering, full body orgasm that leaves her trembling with aftershocks for so long that he wonders if she will even come back to her own head within the hour.
She does though, snapping back into a vague awareness while Jinshi absentmindedly strokes her hair. Her whole body is tender and sore and overstimulated. She moves slowly and carefully as she rearranges herself around carefully, hissing sometimes when she moves in a seemingly innocuous way.
He is still painfully hard, but Maomao takes care of that issue quickly enough. It isn’t like he needed much in the first place after listening to her noises all night, so it surprises neither of them when stripes of thick cum leak from his cock into Maomao’s waiting hand. When he unscrews his eyes, he is met with the beautiful sight of Maomao lapping his cum off of her own hand.
They collapse into a puddle together and sleep like the dead, half dressed and covered in cum. It’s gross when they wake up, but they share a smile and a laugh anyways. And in the morning, Jinshi gets to kiss Maomao. Fucking finally.