The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 14 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Meeting of the Named (Part Two)

The seating arrangement at the banquet was most unusual.

“Ah...about the size of one field, I see,” remarked Lahan’s Brother. Apparently that was how he perceived the size of the place. For a single room, it was quite large. In the center was a big, circular stage, with round tables arranged all around it.

Yao and En’en were still getting ready, so they were back at the annex. The freak strategist had been asleep on the couch, so they’d left him there. Maomao wasn’t entirely comfortable with that, but between the bodyguards and the freak himself, she figured the girls wouldn’t accidentally get caught up in anything they shouldn’t. Besides, En’en was relatively adept at handling the freak strategist. Maomao hoped—wanted to believe—that there wouldn’t be any problems.

So it was that she, Lahan, and Lahan’s Brother arrived at the banquet hall first.

“The point is to keep people from feeling that some seats are superior to others,” said Lahan. Despite being a pathetic little creature, he was dressed well, raising the question of whether clothes could indeed make the man. His outfit was plain at first glance, but the cloth was excellent stuff—very Lahan-esque. “It can’t be easy to do the seating chart with all the bigwigs who show up here.”

Maomao was thinking the same thing. It would be hard for those seated behind the stage not to feel they were being snubbed. Making the stage circular deftly obscured what was the front and what was the back—a clever move. Admittedly, there were still two rows of tables, but the front row was for clans with zodiac names, while the back was for clans with other names, an arrangement no one was likely to object to.

“S-So where do we sit?” asked Lahan’s Brother. He was tall and handsome, at least taller and handsomer than Lahan. He had his looks going for him—but mostly so long as he just stood there. “Gosh, there’s a lot of people here,” he said.

“Brother, try to act like you belong here,” Lahan said in exasperation. The way his older brother stood and stared made him look like the quintessential tourist in the big city.

The venue wasn’t even half full yet. A few tables with no one sitting at them stood out—among them two marked with the characters Ma and Gyoku, respectively.

There were about twenty tables, and each sat eight people, but most of them wouldn’t be completely filled. Interestingly, the tables with guests showed a certain similarity in their compositions.

There’s always someone who looks like a retired old guy and then some youngsters.

Even more strikingly, the ratio of men to women among the youth was about equal.

Maomao and the others sat at the table marked La.

“Hey,” said Maomao, elbowing Lahan.

“What?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be one big matchmaking get-together, would it?” Maomao narrowed her eyes.

“Not exclusively, but that’s part of it. People bring the most talented sons and most beautiful daughters from their branch families, and more than a few are looking to foist them off on other clans. It’s not all blood relatives either; some people bring friends who want to make a match with a well-known household. Not that everyone here is a winner, of course. Fun fact—my own mother and father met at one of these meetings.”

Father: For once, Lahan meant his biological father.

Isn’t that a pretty risky business? Maomao thought. She was beginning to think that bringing Yao and En’en had been a mistake, and she wasn’t alone.

“In principle, this place is completely against what Yao is after,” Lahan said, and he sounded tired. If Maomao had refused to come with, he certainly never would have allowed them to be here.

Lahan was quite cold toward Yao, and Maomao understood why. Yao didn’t seem to realize it, but there was something blossoming within her, a feeling for Lahan that hadn’t yet resolved itself into either love or simple admiration. To have affection for someone else, only to have that very affection breed contempt in them, was a disappointing business.

She should do herself a favor and just give up.

Yao, however, didn’t see that. She had a very grown-up body, but her heart was still more that of a girl. It hurt to watch her cling to Lahan for want of knowing what else to do, but sometimes becoming an adult meant going through those experiences.

Lahan’s inept at the strangest times.

Maomao thought it was partly his fault for not understanding how to handle a young woman in the throes of adolescence. To Yao, with her fierce competitive streak, his actions were like pouring oil on a fire.

Now, then. Lahan had confirmed that this gathering was partly about meeting prospective partners—but what else might be going on?

“What else happens here?” Maomao asked.

“Clan heads-to-be meet each other and form friendships; there are business negotiations and political wrangling. All things my grandfather loves—I hear he used to participate in every meeting.” Lahan glanced around the venue, which included other separate rooms, distinct from the guest rooms. “There are also rooms where people can take a break, each of them carefully soundproofed. Practically an invitation to have your secret conversations there.”

That was presumably Lahan’s real objective. Well, Lahan’s Brother might be there to find a wife, possibly, but he should have known that the moment he appeared in the company of the freak strategist, the chances of that were practically nil.

“You’re not involved in anything underhanded, are you? You promised you would introduce me to a nice girl!” Lahan’s Brother said, cornering his younger brother. So that was how Lahan had convinced him to attend.

“Brother, please. You know I only want to look at beautiful things.”

“I know. But something about you smells fishy.”

“He’s right.” Maomao agreed with Lahan’s Brother.

“You’re working some kind of con.”

“Lulling him into a false sense of security by pretending nothing is amiss, then springing some sort of marriage swindle,” Maomao added.

“I can’t believe you,” Lahan’s Brother went on. “I hope all the boats with all your investments sink!”

“I would feel bad for the sailors,” Maomao said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the innocent shipmates.

Lahan’s Brother backed down a bit. “Then I hope you stub your little toe on the corner of a cabinet!”

“I hope you get hangnails on every digit you have,” said Maomao.

“Brother! Maomao! Why are you better friends with each other than with me, your actual sibling?!”

Lahan looked put out, but Maomao didn’t think of him as her older brother. Lahan’s Brother himself was more like a brother to her.

“Would you like something to drink?” asked their server. Each table had its own servant, who was dedicated to making sure they lacked for nothing.

“Tea for me,” said Lahan.

“Do you have wine?” Maomao asked, eyes shining.

“In moderation!” Lahan snapped.

“I’ll be moderate!”

So it was tea for Lahan, fruit wine for Maomao and Lahan’s Brother. The wine had herbs steeping in it to help the digestion; it was evidently meant to serve as an aperitif.

“I wonder if they have anything to go with this. I hope it’s something sweet. You can step away until you come to tell us it’s ready,” Lahan told the servant.

This was partly a strategy to get the freak strategist to eat, but also a way of getting the servant to abandon his post and leave them alone. Once he was gone, Lahan began talking quietly.

“You know why we’re at this banquet today?”

“Is it about a woman?” Maomao asked, eyeing him coldly.

“Isn’t it to find me a wife?” asked Lahan’s Brother, who was still hoping for that elusive introduction to a nice girl.

“I’m looking to get on good terms with a particular personage.”

“I knew it was about a woman.”

“No, no it’s not. Look diagonally to your right.”

Maomao’s eyes darted in the indicated direction, though she didn’t deign to turn her head. There was a table with five people at it: a man who was quite old, with a middle-aged woman who appeared to be his minder and three younger people—a young man and woman, each in their twenties, as well as a boy, still probably around ten years of age. The table was emblazoned with the character U. Former Consort Lishu’s family. Lishu herself, living in seclusion, was of course not there.

“Wow! Look at that ancient sack of bones,” said Maomao.

“The term you’re looking for is honored elder,” Lahan told her.

“What do you want with the U clan?”

The U, Maomao had heard, were very much on the outs at the moment, what with Lishu’s seclusion and the things her father and half-sister had done. Maomao couldn’t imagine why Lahan would be interested in them.

“Now look diagonally to the left.”

Maomao’s eyes slid in the new direction, where she saw a woman of some years. She was with a man who appeared to be her aide as well as five younger men and women. Their table said Shin, “dragon.”

“Get a load of that old hag!”

“Honored elder! The same term will work!” Lahan sounded like he was reprimanding a child.

“So what do you want with the, uh, honored elders of the U and the Shin?”

“There’s been bad blood between those two clans for some forty years now. They used to get along very well, but the previous heads of the clans had a huge falling out, and now they keep their distance from each other.”

“And the two elders are the former heads of the clans?”

“Not quite. The woman is the wife of the former head of the Shin clan. I suppose we could call her the mistress now. I’m sure she’s well acquainted with the situation, though. The U man was the former head of the clan, but thanks to what his son-in-law did, he had to come out of retirement and resume the headship.”

Lahan munched on some fruit that sat in the middle of the table. Lahan’s Brother was sipping his fruit wine and pondering whether he might be able to make some himself.

“What caused this fight, do you know?” Maomao asked.

“The alleged theft of a family heirloom. It was supposedly the U who did the stealing, and the Shin who were stolen from.”

“Yikes. Sounds like a real headache.” And it had been forty years ago! That heirloom was long gone.

“Call me cold,” Lahan’s Brother said, speaking quietly like Lahan, “but why do you care if a couple of other families are having a spat?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t. At the moment, however, the U are weak. And a lot of unsavory people are trying to take advantage of that.” Lahan broke it down nice and easy, as if helping a child understand. “It hasn’t been that long since the Shi clan was destroyed. We wouldn’t want to see another named clan disappear so soon, would we?”

“So you want to patch things up between them and strengthen the U clan? I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as that—and besides, what makes you think you can crack a forty-year-old case?”

Maomao nodded her agreement with Lahan’s Brother’s analysis.

“Again, I normally wouldn’t. But it so happens the Shin are still searching—they believe the heirloom may yet be found. Just imagine the favors they would owe me if I were the one to find it!” Lahan’s eyes glinted unpleasantly behind his glasses.

“So that’s what you’re really after,” Maomao said, taking a sip of wine.

“Something else bothers me too. You remember the incident of the hanging in my honored father’s office?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“The culprits turned out to be three palace women. What if I told you all three of their families had connections to the Shin clan?”

At that, Maomao was silent.

“Please help me, O my little sister!”

Maomao still didn’t say anything, just sipped her wine.

“I know it won’t be easy to solve a case from four decades ago, but I have you, my brother, and my father. I would have liked to bring great-uncle Luomen along, but it didn’t work out. They do say three heads are better than one—surely you’ll be able to figure something out?”

Maomao was well aware of how the U clan had ended up where they were now, and it didn’t make her feel very good that the actions of a wayward son-in-law and his compatriots had weakened the main family.

While this conversation had been going on, Yao and En’en finally arrived.

I thought she said something about taking the minimum amount of time necessary.

Yao was thoroughly dressed up. Not overdressed, of course—this was En’en’s work, after all—but outfitted in a way that would show anyone who bothered to pay attention that care had been taken with her clothes, hair, and accessories.

En’en had likewise helped Maomao pick out her clothes, and they were excellent. She would have made a superb lady-in-waiting—if she would ever give a thought to serving someone other than Yao.

She’s going to end up making herself the one everyone wants for a wife.

A husband’s display of class often sprang directly from his wife’s good sense. No decent household wanted a bride with bad taste.

“That’s enough fiddling with my hair,” Yao was saying.

“Oh! Just one more little adjustment! Please, hold on...”

En’en was still holding a comb and some camellia oil. The freak strategist followed them in, a vacant look on his face. Each time he started to wander off in a random direction, one of the bodyguards would pull him back where he belonged.

It’s not easy looking after him, huh?

This was not a work occasion, so instead of his usual competent subordinates, it fell to the guards to keep an eye on the strategist.

“Sorry we’re late. En’en just wouldn’t give up,” said Yao, bowing. Lahan was smiling, but that was all he did—he didn’t invite them to sit, for example.

No more welcoming than ever, I see.

Lahan always liked his relations with women to be very clear, which was why it was such an issue for him that an aristocratic young lady like Yao had taken an interest in him. Maomao agreed that it was important that men and women not lead each other on, but even she felt Yao was being treated poorly.

“Do you expect my mistress to stand here forever?” En’en hissed with a scowl. Lahan was definitely on her shit list.

Yao, however, didn’t appear to mind; she just kept smiling. She was, it was fair to say, the kind whose resolution only grew in the face of opposition. It remained an open question whether her feelings for Lahan were of romance, respect, or merely curiosity in a man of a type she had never met before.

“Sorry. I think this is what you’re supposed to do at a moment like this?”

It was Lahan’s Brother who took the initiative, pulling out chairs for Yao and En’en.

“Thank you very much, Lahan’s Brother,” Yao said, taking a seat.

“Ha ha... Ha ha ha...” He laughed feebly. Evidently he was already “Lahan’s Brother” to Yao as well. En’en gave him a polite nod of the head as she took her spot.

“It’s almost time,” said Lahan.

The other families were all seated—including the Ma clan, whose table was full. Maomao could see Basen and Maamei among the attendees.

So that’s why he wasn’t there last night, she thought. She was sure Chue would have been eager to attend a party like this, but she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe with her physical infirmity she had to make herself scarce.

“Maomaaaooo!” The freak strategist shoved Lahan out of the seat he occupied beside Maomao and sat down. She gnashed her teeth at him intimidatingly. The strategist went on in a tone like he was placating a cat, “You look adorable in that outfit! But your hair looks so lonely—won’t you put one of my hair sticks in it?” He held a hair stick out to her.

“Yikes...” Lahan’s Brother gasped, and Lahan averted his eyes. The hair stick was a silver piece carved in the likeness of a sword around which curled a dragon. From the chain dangled a lavender crystal skull.

The sword, the dragon, the skull. What was he, a preadolescent boy?

“A dragon and a skull together—isn’t that a bit disrespectful? And I’m not sure the purple crystal helps,” said Yao, very serious. Maomao and the others all gave quick little shakes of their heads, and although there was clearly more that Yao wanted to say, she refrained.

Lahan’s Brother could be heard to remark, “I thought that thing was awesome, back in the day,” but Maomao pretended not to hear him.

“I have to refuse, on the grounds that it’s disrespectful,” she said quietly.

“Oh. I see,” said the freak strategist, deflated.

“I won’t wear it. But I will take it,” said Maomao, taking the hair stick from him, at which he lit up.

I can melt it down and sell the metal.

It was at least made of good stuff. Selling it was the same solution Maomao had resorted to for all the other accessories the freak strategist had brought her.

“Maomao! What kind of hair stick would you like?” the strategist asked.

“One of pure gold. Absolutely no adulterations.”

“Oh, Sister, please don’t drive my household any further into debt.” Lahan looked genuinely bereaved. How far in the red was his family?

Their discussion was interrupted by the ringing of a gong. The old Chu man got up on the stage in the middle of the room—it was time to start.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here with us today,” he said, smiling and turning all around. It might look somewhat silly, like he couldn’t settle down, but in a room with no “high end” and no “low end,” it would have been rude to offer his greetings in only one direction.

“As it’s been five long years, you’ll notice some things are different from the last time we were together.”

Like that the Shi clan are gone and the Gyoku clan are a lot more numerous.

Neither Empress Gyokuyou nor Gyokuen were at the Gyoku table; instead, there were just two people, a man and a woman in their thirties. Maomao figured they must be Gyokuen’s children. She peered around, wondering about all the other seats.

“Don’t stare, Maomao. It’s not ladylike.” Yao must have been nervous, because she was blushing.

Jovial Old Chu turned out to be long-winded. He was so careful to be thoughtful to his guests; Maomao only wished his care had extended to the length of his speech.

The freak strategist, perhaps satisfied by the matter of the hair stick, was busy with the snacks Lahan had requested for the purpose. He was more or less behaving himself, but behind him, his guards were keeping a close eye on him.

Won’t this guy ever shut up?

Old Chu prattled on and on; the only silver lining was that food began to appear even as he spoke. In the center of the round table they placed a roast duck. Chopped jellyfish with sauce, century eggs, and stir-fried bamboo shoots followed.

Duck...

Maomao stole a glance at the Ma table and saw Basen looking deeply conflicted. No doubt he was thinking of his pet duck back home.

“I do feel a little bad for it, but that’s life. It is livestock, after all,” said Lahan’s Brother, with calm acceptance. The servant had carved the duck, and Lahan’s Brother was enjoying some with gusto.

Maomao tried to take the bottle of huangjiu that was on the table.

“No,” Lahan said and snatched it away.

“Why not?” Maomao demanded, giving him a dirty look.

“You have work to do, Maomao, so you must drink in moderation.”

Then Lahan asked the servant to clear away all the alcohol on the table. Only the barely alcoholic fruit wine remained.

Maomao ate her meal in sullen silence.

It turned out Old Chu wasn’t the only elderly gasbag in attendance. After his speech was over, some retiree from one of the other clans started in on a winding history of Li. It was an entire half hour before he was done, and by then Maomao’s stomach was full of food.

“And now, everyone, please relax and enjoy yourselves.”

How they had waited for those words! The entire venue burst into riotous applause.

The old folks left the stage, and a dancing girl in a gorgeous outfit took their place. She expertly manipulated her billowing sleeves in a dazzling display. In line with the casual atmosphere of the meeting, the music seemed aimed at the young people, bright and cheery, and gilded the conversations nicely.

The youngsters got up out of their seats and started visiting with each other. Some chatted with the prettiest girls they could find; others paid their respects to the heads of other clans or introduced acquaintances to each other.

The elderly leaders stayed in their seats and smiled at the goings-on, but there were a few youngsters—perhaps favored by the elders—who received greetings from the elders instead of the other way around.

Several people could be seen scurrying off to the private conversation rooms—youth being youth, cliques seemed to have formed quickly.

Now, as for Maomao and her table...

“No one’s visiting us, huh?” Lahan’s Brother said, sipping his soup.

“If you’re tired of waiting, you’re welcome to get up and walk around, Brother.” Lahan showed no sign of getting up himself; he still wanted to enjoy a leisurely meal.

“That’s not really what I mean,” said Lahan’s Brother. He was possessed of something resembling common sense, and it bothered him that they alone seemed to be a table of pariahs.

“Isn’t this meal delicious, En’en?” said Yao.

“Yes, mistress. I’ll have to recreate it for one of our dinners.”

Yao and En’en seemed to have expected that no one would visit their table, and it didn’t worry them. Maomao was likewise enjoying the food, but she hadn’t forgotten why she was really there.

“So, where’s this guy who was making passes at you, Yao? Is he here?”

“No, but his clan is.”

“Which one is it?”

“The Shin.”

You’ve got to be kidding.

Maomao stole a glance at Lahan. His eyes behind his glasses were narrowed, but she thought she saw a gleam that heralded a serious headache.

“I’d like to go talk to them now,” said Yao, standing up.

Lahan, Maomao, and Lahan’s Brother all panicked. Yao and En’en hadn’t heard the story of the falling-out between the U and Shin clans. Meanwhile, Lahan’s Brother wasn’t involved, but he knew how to read a situation. He really was a good guy.

“Just hold on a minute. Please,” Maomao said, exchanging a look with Lahan.

Should we tell her about the Shin and the U?

The thing was, En’en might listen, but Yao could be headstrong. Deciding it was better not to stick her neck out, Maomao heaved a sigh. “Do you have any connections at all to the Shin clan?”

“No,” Yao said uncomfortably.

“I thought not. Which means, if you ask me, that it would be considered very rude for you to simply walk up to the clan’s most important members and start talking to them.”

“I know that.” Yao pursed her lips, but only a little.

Maybe she’s gotten just a bit more mature in the year since I saw her last?

Maomao looked to Lahan again. He had probably already grasped what was going on with Yao and En’en.

“I was about to talk to the Shin about a matter of business,” he said. “Let me begin the discussion. I understand how eager you are to resolve this problem that’s besetting you, but you two are fundamentally outsiders. If you go poking your nose in where you’re not welcome and leave my family in the red, I’ll boot you out of our house so fast your heads will spin.”

It might have sounded cruel, but Lahan was absolutely right. Yao bit her lip, and En’en wore an expression like an avenging demon’s.

En’en, meanwhile, hasn’t changed at all, thought Maomao. She was actually starting to worry that if they didn’t do something about En’en, Yao would never be able to spread her wings. Wasn’t there anyone who might be able to lower En’en’s hackles?

“Here’s what’s going to happen. My family and I are going to go talk to the Shin clan, and you two are going to stay here. Once I’ve finished my business with them, of course, I’ll introduce you.”

“Question: Don’t you think there could be trouble if just two of us stay at this table?” En’en asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’ll be fine. My brother will stay and look after you.”

“I will?!” This was evidently news to Lahan’s Brother, who was so surprised that he stood up out of his seat. “N-Nobody said anything about that to me!”

Lahan patted Lahan’s Brother on the shoulder. “Brother, Brother. I couldn’t possibly in good conscience leave two beautiful young women sitting by themselves. I’m so terribly sorry, but won’t you stay here and watch out for them?”

Lahan’s Brother looked at Yao and En’en. Lahan whispered in his ear: “My honored father absolutely must be present at these negotiations, but it would be trouble if all the men simply got up and walked away. Please, Brother—you’re the only one who can help me!”

Well, “whispered”—he made sure the rest of them could hear every word.

Lahan’s Brother caved. “Y... Yeah, all right.”

“You’re such a help, Brother.”

Watching the scene, Maomao realized she was seeing how Lahan had convinced him to go to the western capital. Lahan’s Brother was simply too good for his own good.