The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 12 - Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Sound Sleep

Maomao was trying to work her way back from Chue’s bedroom to the medical office, but she was swaying on her feet.

I’m so...so tired.

She was fatigued beyond measure now. It had been nothing but trouble ever since she had helped Shikyou. First she’d been confined, then taken on a headlong flight from she knew not whom, to she knew not where. She’d been captured by bandits, put to forced servitude, and then attacked on the way home.

Chue’s surgery had been a nightmare. The good news was that although at least one of her ribs was cracked, none of them was completely broken. There didn’t appear to be any damage to her internal organs, either, but she’d taken some very serious blows, so Maomao had made sure to brace the area anyway. No severe injuries to her torso meant she probably wasn’t in danger of her life.

Her right arm, though—that was going to be a problem. It was in a sorry state; there was no way around it. It was still shaped like an arm, more or less, but that was the extent of the good news. Everything below the elbow was a mess, the bones shattered and the flesh all but shredded.

Chue was a perfectly skilled bodyguard, Maomao thought, but that night, she’d simply been at a disadvantage. Bear-Man hadn’t been thinking; he was all pain and rage, and it had given him the nigh-unkillable tenacity of a viper. She’d fought a wounded beast, and this was the result.

Maomao had set the bits of bone back where they belonged, sewn the sinews together, and stitched the torn flesh. It had barely passed for surgery; more like a live experiment, trial and error on the spot. There’d been no anesthetic available—she’d had Chue bite down on a handkerchief. Maomao had had someone hold the arm down, yet Chue had hardly flinched throughout the procedure. Just how much pain could she take?

Normally, Maomao would have prescribed extensive rest for a patient in Chue’s condition, but they couldn’t keep camping out. Better to get back to the western capital as fast as they could, and that was exactly what they did. They had arrived not too long ago at all.

Maomao’s prognosis was that Chue’s right arm was going to be virtually useless. It would probably have almost no feeling, at least from the elbow down. The most Maomao could do for her was to watch the arm’s progress and make sure that it didn’t rot off.

I wonder if the muscles will reattach.

She’d tried to stitch them together as best she could. If she’d done a decent job, then Chue might—Maomao liked to think—get some sensation back in her hand, but everything Maomao had done during the surgery had been only her attempt to imitate things she’d seen her father Luomen do. She hadn’t learned any of this stuff doing dissections with the doctors.

She’d done what she could. Continuing to sit by Chue’s side wouldn’t accomplish anything. She’d left Baryou to look after his wife, with instructions to call her if anything happened.

Ugh. I’m so tired, and I ache everywhere.

She hadn’t had a wink of sleep since the attack. It was rough, but when she thought of all the people who had it much worse at that moment, she couldn’t rest. Still, working herself ragged for that reason wasn’t going to help anybody.

I’m going to sleep! I swear I’m going to sleep!

She was going to go to the medical office and...wait. Why were her feet taking her the other direction?

What was going on?

This is Miss Chue’s fault.

Her and her mumbling, like she was leaving Maomao with her last words.

Under any other circumstances, Maomao would have said that conserving her stamina was the most important thing at that moment.

Instead, she headed for Jinshi’s office.

Maomao didn’t normally come to this room without a summons from Chue or someone, and she found it required more courage than she’d expected to knock on the door. She took a deep breath in, then let it out, then knocked.

She waited. There was no answer.

She gave the door a curious look. Maybe no one was home. She felt a bit like the wind had been taken out of her sails, but anyway, she turned to go back to the medical office.

At exactly that moment, the door burst open. Maomao turned back in surprise to find Jinshi standing there.

He looked haggard. Maybe he was pulling yet another all-nighter—overestimating how much his body could take, again. How many days had it been since he’d slept? The sight of him might have inspired pity in some people, but to Maomao he just looked like a man who had overworked himself. His eyes were puffy, his skin dry. His hair lacked luster and his lips were chapped.

“How many all-nighters have you pulled?” Maomao said.

“I could ask you the very same question!”

There seemed to be something Jinshi wished he could say, for he reached out. He caught Maomao’s hand and drew her into the office. He pulled so hard that she thought she might tumble right onto the floor, but he caught her first.

Oh!

They lay on the floor, Maomao on top, Jinshi underneath. There was a nice, thick carpet to land on, but even so, Maomao wondered if it didn’t hurt falling down like that.

After a moment, Jinshi said, “Don’t go running off like that again.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Try to think before you act!”

“I did think. And look what happened.”

She felt a warm breath on her head and knew he was sighing.

She couldn’t move. She tried to look up at Jinshi, but found his chin was in the way.

“I brought you here because I thought it would be safe. How could everything have gone so wrong?”

“Because things don’t always go the way we plan. If I’d stayed in the capital, the same sort of thing might have happened.”

“True enough.”

Why were they lying there on the floor, trading what amounted to banter?

We should at least close the door. What if somebody saw them? I’ve got to get up.

How long did he plan to lie there holding her? To be perfectly blunt, she hadn’t bathed in days. She’d hardly even changed her clothes. It must have smelled gross, lying there with a woman covered in sweat and dust.

What the hell? He’s actually taking a whiff!

“Master Jinshi?”

“What?”

“Maybe you could let me go one of these days?”

“You could always push me away yourself.”

Maomao took Jinshi’s hand. It felt very heavy, but he wasn’t specifically pushing on her. It was just...

I’m sleepy.

Maomao could hardly think straight. Maybe it was the release of all that tension, but she felt oddly safe. Was it the thick carpet that felt so nice? Or was it the warmth of another body right next to her?

“True enough...”

She tried to brush his hand away, but couldn’t. Instead, her breathing gradually evened out, and slowly, so did his.

What do I do here?

Her eyelids were trying to close, but she felt like there was something she had to tell him.

“I know you have your circumstances, Miss Maomao. It’s important not to get carried away by your emotions!”

I’m not getting carried away by my emotions, she thought.

She looked at the face of the beautiful man before her. With his almond-shaped eyes closed, the lashes that fringed them looked even longer than usual. His facial features were perfectly formed, his lips neither too full nor too thin. There was the scar running along his right cheek.

For someone with such a pretty face, he was surprisingly well-built. That accursed brand was still on his flank.

Maomao couldn’t comprehend it. To get what he wanted, Jinshi had tried to remove himself from a position at the very zenith of power. If his goal was indeed Maomao herself, then she could only think there was something wrong with him.

It was a heat like molten metal. She wasn’t sure what to do with it all—for the temperature she could return was no more than that of lukewarm water.

Slowly she reached up toward Jinshi’s cheek and pressed her tepid warmth against it. It felt a little cooler than her hand. His eyes were completely closed, and he nuzzled against her hand like a kitten being petted. He was asleep—perhaps he had finally relaxed.

There’s nothing I can give him back in return.

Maomao brought her face close to Jinshi’s. His breath and hers mingled. His lips were even colder than his cheek.

A short while later, Maomao’s breathing, too, took on the even rhythm of sleep, and she slept soundly for the first time in more days than she could remember.