The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 11

Maomao.” She heard Jinshi from the other side of the curtain. “I think things are going to get tiring. I need a charge.” His hand poked through the drapes.

“A charge?” Maomao asked.

She studied the shelf Chue had indicated. She took a mooncake wrapped in paper from a basket on the shelf and pressed it into Jinshi’s hand.

“Huh?!”

The mooncake dropped to the ground. The paper came off and, sadly, it touched the floor. Maomao moved to pick it up, but her right hand was caught by Jinshi’s. She felt his fingers slide between hers as if to make sure she was there. The fact they were both using their right hands made it oddly awkward.

Jinshi’s long fingers pressed into the back of Maomao’s hand, while his palm pressed against hers. She could

There was one reason, and one reason only, that Rikuson wanted to destroy the family register—and that was because he felt a duty to Gyokuen

“By the way, Lahan’s Little Sister...”

“I’m sorry, what did you call me?” Maomao looked like she was ready to spit in his face.

Under the present circumstances, I think that it would be safest to return to the central region.”
Safest for whom to return, Maomao wondered, but then she realized—he meant her.

A high wall, however, appeared in front of Maomao. Thoom. Jinshi had risen from his seat and was standing smack in front of her.

“Yes, sir?” she asked. Jinshi continued to look less than pleased.

“It has come to my attention that this man with whom you claim not to be especially close recently proposed marriage to you.”

At least he was to the point.

“Medicine tends to be scarce in times of war. It’s hard on doctors and apothecaries.”

“I see.” Lakan returned the Shogi pieces he’d been placing into the bag they came from and stood up.

Onsou was a highly capable aide-de-camp. He’d naturally understood what Jinshi was trying to communicate to Lakan.

Needless to say, Jinshi had become quite knowledgeable about medicines.

He had been more than ready to cede center stage to Gyoku-ou, to let him be in charge—but this was beyond the pale. In order to put food in his people’s mouths, he was proposing thievery. It would make him no different from the bandits he despised.

Rikuson sighed. Gyoku-ou, popular with his people. An unprecedented disaster. The strategist and the Imperial younger brother, come from the royal capital.

The players were all here, the stage was set.

That was why Rikuson had made the joking offer of marriage: a joke it was, but he knew that the hyperprotective elements around Maomao would respond immediately.