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.

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.

and this man Rikuson, it sounds like you’re awfully close,” Jinshi continued. Pretty much what she’d expected.
“I’m not sure I’d say that, sir,” Maomao replied.
“Oh? Is that so?”
Yes? Yes. Yes, it’s so. Maomao glared at h

“They’ve added an extra detail too,” Lahan’s Brother informed them. “They brand each potato to identify it as coming from His Majesty’s younger brother.”
Maomao spat out her tea so hard that it got into her nose and threatened to fly up into her eyes.
“Huh? What’s your problem?” Lahan’s Brother asked, patting her on the back.
“N-Nothing. Nothing. Just, isn’t it sort of impertinent to put the Moon Prince’s sigil on a potato?”
“It’s a simplified version, just a crescent moon. It wouldn’t have been possible to do anything too detailed.”
Maomao wondered, concerned, if Jinshi was doing this as a form of self-flagellation.

Maomao breathed slowly, trying to keep her heart rate down, trying to keep the flush out of her cheeks and hands. Even so, her heartbeat and the sweating got away from her, and she could feel her hand growing slick

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 feel his pulse. His nails were neatly trimmed, but she could feel the calluses on his palm. Ink stained the tips of his fingers, and there was a sheen of sweat on his hand.
Maomao’s palm had started sweating as well. She was hoping to get away before it got too bad. “Sir? What are you doing?” she asked.
“I told you. Charging.”
“Charging.”