The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 12 - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Liar

Ever since he had heard that Maomao had gone to see Shikyou, a cloud had hung over Jinshi as he did his work.

“Perhaps I might suggest a brief rest, sir?” Gaoshun was trying to be considerate, but rest was the last thing Jinshi wanted.

“You think I could sleep?” he asked.

“A politician is one who can sleep no matter the circumstances.”

Fair enough, but Jinshi was not enough of an adult for his reason to be able to overmaster his emotions. In fact, he thought he was doing very well not to just stop working entirely.

“At first they said she’d be back within a few days. But how long has it been now?”

“Ten days, sir.”

“What’s taking so long?!”

He knew perfectly well what the reason was; he was taking his frustration out on Gaoshun.

Ten days before, when Jinshi had met with the emissary from the kingdom of the Ri people, the matter of the kingdom’s fourth prince had come up. Well, not explicitly, but that was almost certainly what they had been talking about.

If someone who stood in the line of succession was in another country—a country that wasn’t even specifically friendly—that was a serious problem. This situation was hardly better for Li than it was for the Ri people. They were the ones who had sent an emissary uninvited, but anything that happened might well be taken as a provocation. Gyoku-ou, he would have tried to bull through the matter—he probably wouldn’t even have deigned to meet the emissary. But Jinshi did things differently. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, and he trusted that his subordinates wanted the same thing.

Now, however, suspicion for kidnapping the fourth prince had fallen on one of the more prominent people in the western capital. And the day Shikyou had chosen to come to the main house was the exact day on which Jinshi was sitting down to a banquet with the Ri emissary. It was a ballsy thing to do—and could even be viewed as an intentional attempt to disrupt the talks.

It was understandable, then, that Baryou and the others under Jinshi would try to prevent Jinshi and Shikyou from having any contact, so that Jinshi could cut them all loose, Shikyou included, if the need arose. It might seem cruel, but that was what the politicians Gaoshun spoke of would do.

The moment someone he cared about had gotten involved, though, he had begun to panic. Maomao, blast it all, couldn’t have picked a worse moment to get tangled up with Shikyou. It had been immediately after he had come to the main house and gone on something of a rampage. She’d given him medical treatment, which would make it easy to deem her his coconspirator. They might have been able to wave away a bit of emergency first aid, but she’d actually sewn him up with a needle and thread. At that point, it got difficult to pretend that someone else had done the work.

As for Shikyou himself, Jinshi really didn’t know that much about the man. He was reputed to be a brute, but Jinshi wasn’t sure how true the rumors were. The question on his mind was, if he had to cast Shikyou away, how would he protect Maomao? The conclusion he hit upon was to claim that Shikyou had threatened her and forced her to treat him. He’d coerced her into coming with him. That would do for an extenuating circumstance.

Why, then, had it been necessary to leave the main house?

“If Master Shikyou is innocent of wrongdoing, then the culprit was someone on the inside,” Baryou said. Someone, some person on the estate, had targeted Shikyou—and until they knew exactly who, it had been decided that for Maomao’s safety, they couldn’t have her here. That was why Chue had led her away.

Chue—there was someone else they hadn’t seen the past several days. Jinshi had ordered her to protect Maomao. He hoped she was using every means at her disposal to do exactly that.

As for what he could do, priority had to go to returning the fourth prince to the Ri kingdom. After hearing that someone fitting the prince’s description had been seen at the post town, Jinshi had gone there himself—only to find the inn where the person had been staying was empty.

Trying to track the prince after that soon revealed that Jinshi was not the only one on the young man’s trail. Another force was after him. Ultimately, not only had Jinshi been unable to hand the prince over to the emissary, but the murmurings that Shikyou had kidnapped him had grown ever darker.

That had been six days ago.

Even now, neither Shikyou nor Maomao had returned to the main house. Jinshi knew that so long as their safety could not be assured here, they would stay on the move, looking for some other harbor. Now, in addition to all his other chores, Jinshi was concerned with dealing with the Ri kingdom—and smoking out the traitor in the main house.

“Perhaps a breath of fresh air,” he said.

“Understood, sir,” Gaoshun replied. Jinshi left the office, Gaoshun and Basen walking behind him. Behind Basen walked the duck, but by this point Jinshi was tired of coming up with clever things to say about it.

Jinshi remembered how splendid the gardens of Gyokuen’s western-capital estate had always been, but now more than half had been turned into farm fields, their teary-eyed gardeners working the ground with their hoes.

He could see someone in the open-air pavilion that occupied one of the few remaining patches of garden. Wondering who it might be, he squinted, and could just make out two old farts.

“Ah, Sir Quack. You’ve found a tasty-looking treat there.”

“Hoo hoo hoo! You have a distinguished eye, my dear commander. It’s sweet potatoes from this year’s harvest, crushed and mixed with butter and honey. The key is to brown them just right.”

A tea party was in progress, attended by the freak strategist—that is to say, Lakan—and the good doctor. The good doctor was, to be perfectly honest, not actually that good at doctoring, but he did have a way with people.

A man with a hoe interjected himself into the conversation. “Excuse me, Master Physician! I thought I told you we couldn’t use those sweet potatoes yet!” It was Lahan’s Brother. Also near the pavilion were the doctor’s bodyguard and Lakan’s aide.

“Aw, I’m sorry. The idea came to me, and then I just... Well, what do you say, my dear Lahan’s Brother? Try some!” The physician shoved some of the potato treat into Lahan’s Brother’s mouth.

“Mrrgh... Hmm. The flavor’s all right, but I tell you, if you’d let them ripen a bit, you wouldn’t need sugar or honey. Hrm, that stuff I had with the distilled liquor in it was better.”

“That’s true enough, but, well, maybe we needn’t worry. What do you think, my dear strategist? Isn’t it lovely?”

“Yes, it’s good. But leave the alcohol out of it.”

“Ah, of course, you don’t hold your drink well, do you? And to think, your daughter loves it so!”

“Now listen here, doc. You didn’t make that with Maomao’s wine, did you?”

“Goodness, no! I specially requested the kitchen to share some of theirs. But I didn’t tell the young lady, because if she found out, she would have drunk it all!”

“Yes, well... Yes. She might just do that,” Lahan’s Brother admitted.

“I should say so. I hear distilled liquor is perfect for grilling meat, too, and I’d love to try it... But to tell you the truth, I’m a little scared,” the physician said.

“Scared of what?” Lahan’s Brother asked.

“The alcohol is so strong. If I put it on the meat, won’t the fire just go fwoosh! and go everywhere?”

“Better make sure you have some water on hand.”

The whole time Lahan’s Brother and the physician were chatting, Lakan munched his way through the snack, until some got stuck in his throat. His aide rushed over and pounded him on the back. He was obviously used to this—Jinshi surmised that it happened with some regularity.

“Perhaps we should give them some space, Moon Prince,” Gaoshun suggested.

“Good idea,” said Jinshi. He’d managed to keep Maomao’s absence a secret from Lakan over the past several days. Back during the swarm it had been simple enough—Lakan had had work to do, and it had distracted him. But now it was proving trickier.

That was when he heard the strategist ask, “Don’t you think it’s about time for Maomao to be getting home?”

“Hmmm,” the physician replied. “All I heard was that she was going to the port town with Miss Chue to buy medicine. You know how she gets about medicine. That shopping trip might never end!” The quack didn’t question the story, which was exactly why it worked on Lakan: the doctor believed it completely.

Lakan was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a man suited to ordinary civilian life. He spent half his time asleep, and when he was awake, he was usually playing around. He hated to so much as look at paperwork, and he had no idea how to just “play along” in social situations. In one thing, however, no one in Li could match him: his ability to judge character. He could assess the suitability of his subordinates at a glance, as if he were looking at Shogi pieces on a game board. Perhaps it was an extension of that ability that made it impossible to lie to Lakan or try to throw him off your trail.

Jinshi knew that if he had to confront the strategist in person, the old fart would know in a second that Jinshi had been deceiving him. Thus he endeavored to avoid him as studiously as possible.

It was as they were heading back to the office that Jinshi heard a faintly ridiculous “Quack!” The duck trailing behind Basen had found a frog in the garden.

“Come on, let’s go!” Basen snapped and tried to grab the bird, but he hesitated for an instant. Being far stronger than the average person, he was probably worried that he might crush the duck if he grabbed her too heedlessly.

The frog hopped away and the duck darted after it, flapping its wings as it went—which attracted the attention of the people in the pavilion.

“Oh! Moon Prince,” the master physician said, his cheeks flushing pink.

“It’s the Moon Prince...” Lahan’s Brother looked away, almost awkwardly. He hadn’t had a proper audience with Jinshi since before he’d gone on his cross-country trek around I-sei Province.

“The Moon Prince?” demanded Lakan. He didn’t sound terribly happy about it. He got up from his seat and stomped over to Jinshi.

Jinshi put on the courteous smile he’d perfected in the rear palace. Gaoshun, too, kept a careful poker face; Basen, meanwhile, was busy chasing after his duck.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Lakan said. “I’ve been trying to find you for days. Where have you been hiding?”

“I’ve been working in my office, and occasionally taking a brief constitutional outside. You must have missed me.”

He wasn’t lying—and he wasn’t telling the truth.

Jinshi was sweating about what to do. If the strategist asked him point-blank about Maomao, there would be no dissembling. This was a man who thought nothing of smashing through the wall of the rear palace to get to his daughter.

Lakan went straight for the jugular. “Say, you haven’t seen Maomao around, have you?” No matter how Jinshi responded, the jig would be up.

He was trying to decide what to do when the duck came racing between them.

“B-Bad Jofu! Come back here!”

“Basen...” Gaoshun growled at his son. Basen screeched to a halt, but the duck tore on, wings flapping, until she ran smack into someone coming down the covered hallway.

“Yikes! Where did you come from?”

It was Hulan, carrying an armload of papers and now left with a webbed footprint on his clothing.

This time the duck stopped, and Basen finally swooped her up in his arms. “I’m so sorry. This is the result of my own negligence,” he said, and he really meant it.

“Oh, please, don’t worry,” Hulan replied.

“Are those for Rikuson?” Jinshi asked—a nice, safe question. Rikuson liked to foist work on Jinshi, but two could play at that game. Stupendous quantities of paperwork passed back and forth between them—but Jinshi didn’t recall there being quite as much today as what Hulan was holding.

“Yes, sir,” Hulan said, polite as always. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Yet Lakan adjusted his monocle and said, “Hey, now. Why would you lie about that?”

“Lie?” Jinshi asked, looking at him.

“He’s not going to see Rikuson. So where are you going?”

“Oh, heavens. I have a whole panoply of little chores that take me here, there, and everywhere.”

Hulan often took on grunt work in the interest of making sure everything was done just so. Naturally, the tasks might see him go to all kinds of places.

But that didn’t seem to be the lie Lakan was talking about. “Then let me ask you,” the strategist said. “Do you know anything about my daughter?”

Hulan looked puzzled. “Lady Maomao? I think she’s gone to the port town on a shopping trip.”

Lakan strode over to Hulan and gave a great sweep of his hand. The papers Hulan was holding went flying everywhere.

“M-Master Lakan?! Whatever is the matter?” asked the master physician, who was terrified of conflict in any form.

“Sir Quack. Do you think you could bring me that distilled alcohol you were talking about? Right now?”

“Y-Yes, of course.” The physician scuttled back to the medical office.

“D’you know what I’m up to here, boy?” Lakan asked Hulan.

“I’m afraid not. Perhaps you could tell me, sir?” Hulan looked very confused, and he wasn’t the only one. Jinshi and the others had no idea what was going on either.

“Tell me, Moon Prince. Did Maomao go shopping at the port town?”

Jinshi didn’t say it out loud, but he shook his head no. No point denying it now.

“Then was this little liar aware that Maomao was somewhere else?”

“He shouldn’t have been...”

Jinshi had told only a handful of his most trusted subordinates about Maomao. Even Basen hadn’t known, for fear that he might give the game away. So, no, Hulan shouldn’t have known about Maomao’s situation. Why did he know that his answer was untrue?

“Hulan...” Jinshi’s eyes narrowed, and he fixed his gaze on the humble young man.

That was when the master physician returned with a bottle. “Master Lakan, I brought the drink!”

“Why, thank you.” Lakan took the bottle and popped out the cork, keeping his face turned away so he wouldn’t get drunk on the fumes. Then he flipped the bottle upside down, emptying its contents all over the papers.

“Oh! Those poor papers... Whatever are you doing?” asked the physician, who was perhaps the only one who could question Lakan so directly to his face.

“This,” the strategist replied. His aide was already there, holding a flint. Lakan took it and struck it in the direction of the alcohol-drenched papers. They immediately lit in a great burst of flame.

“My goodness! Master Rikuson’s papers!” Hulan exclaimed.

“Forget his papers! I want you to tell me why you knew something you should never have known!” Lakan demanded, his face red in the light of the fire.

“I didn’t know anything. It just seemed strange. Why would they send someone so prized as Lady Maomao on a days-long shopping expedition?”

“Let’s try a different question, then. Did you try to entrap Maomao?”

This time Hulan didn’t say anything.

“Did you try to test her?”

Still he was silent.

Jinshi saw that Lakan’s interrogation wasn’t going to get anywhere at this rate. He was too fixated on one and only one thing: Maomao. There was a better question in this situation.

“Hulan... Was Shikyou in your way?”

At Jinshi’s question, Hulan smiled ever so faintly. “Yes. He’s not suited to be our father’s successor.”

“So little suited that you would kill him?”

“It seemed like the way to avoid any trouble in the future. The way to ensure work would go as planned.”

Now it was Lakan’s turn to be silent.

“Say my brother was alive. What use would it be if people saw him as the successor to our father, Gyoku-ou?”

Jinshi had been looking for a traitor on the inside—but he still didn’t know what that traitor was thinking.

“Brother Shikyou is unnecessary if the western capital is to be run as smoothly as possible. I simply sought to remove that which we didn’t need.” Hulan smiled widely, then abruptly took off his shoes. “My body may burn, but I shall be content.”

Still smiling, he stepped into the conflagration of paperwork.

“What are you doing?!” Basen lunged forward to pull him out of the flames, but Hulan dodged him, dropping to all fours and clinging to the floor. Even as his clothes, his hair, his very skin scorched, he smiled.

“You must be crazy!” Lahan’s Brother rushed over with some pond water and doused Hulan. Gaoshun was in action, too, issuing orders to the guards and Lakan’s aide.

As for the good doctor, he was out cold, a froth of bubbles around his mouth.

Lakan gave Hulan an icy stare where he crouched on the ground.

“What would drive you to this?” Jinshi asked. He was startled by how rational he found himself as he regarded this incomprehensible creature.

“Cloth! Give me a cloth!” Basen shouted. He wrapped Hulan and dragged him to the medical office. The physician wasn’t going to be doing any treating, so they would have to get someone to come from the clinic in town.

“Gaoshun,” Jinshi said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Shikyou is innocent. I think it might be advantageous in this case to cooperate with him to find the fourth prince.”

“As you say, sir.”

Gaoshun was already moving. Lakan turned to Jinshi, looking unimpressed. “Hoh. Is that your play, Moon Prince? It’s always possible this Shikyou of yours is plotting something.”

“We’ll find that out readily if you accompany us, will we not, Sir Lakan? Or would you delay your daughter’s rescue simply because you don’t like me?”

“Well! Look who’s grown a spine.”

“I had to. Someone put me through my paces.”

He had found his traitor. What to do next, then? Jinshi sprang into action—it was the best way to get Maomao back.