Chapter Text
Jinshi sat behind Maomao, half-listening to her teach Chou-u and Sazen, her apprentice, about the basics of making a medicine. The other half of his attention was faithfully kept by how she moved her hands to mimic how to crush the herbs together, how whenever she relaxed, she leaned back against his chest; how the sunlight reflected off her hair, the scent of medicine on her clothes, the warmth emanating from her where their limbs were entangled together.
This was the last of the many lessons Maomao had held between the beginning of the year and now. They’d covered fevers, chills, coughs, colds, inflammations, from how to diagnose them to how to treat them. Chou-u had gotten a little notebook of his own after Jinshi spotted a spare in his office, and the boy had been taking more notes than even Maomao expected him to.
“And after we’re done packing everything,” Maomao was saying, “what do we do?”
“Wipe the counter down with the alcohol to clean it!” Chou-u crowed triumphantly. Sazen nodded meekly after him. Jinshi wondered how the man felt, being a quieter student than a nine year old boy.
“That’s right.” Maomao nodded to the two of them, squeezing more into Jinshi’s space so that they had more room. “Get started. Make a quarter batch for it.”
Chou-u and Sazen sprung into action, the older of the two standing to reach ingredients while the younger oriented all their tools and packaging to the right position. Jinshi and Maomao watched them go. She tugged at his loose hair languidly. Jinshi couldn’t see her face properly, but he knew her; he knew that her gaze was assessing them on their every move.
“Remember that while it is best to get the medicine to its intended recipient as quickly as possible, you also have to take care with the craft,” Maomao reminded them. “A wrong ratio to the herbs might do more harm than good.”
A few moments later, Jinshi wrapped his arms around her waist. “What about the other medicines?” he asked her quietly as they continued to work. “The abortifacients, the emetics, or house calls?”
Maomao leaned her head on his shoulder. “For the house calls, they will have to rely on the training of their own girls. To be truthful, every house should know how to deal with complications regarding abortions, but they’ve gone soft with the knowledge that Pops or I would come help. I wrote quick manuals two or three weeks ago and distributed them around, so if anything happened, they’d know vaguely what to do. I borrowed some apprentices from various parts of the district and showed them the basics too, and told them where to find this place if they needed it.” She sighed. “I taught Sazen the dosage per drug and situation, like if the courtesan doesn’t respond to this medicine, or if she prefers security over painlessness, or the other way around. There’s nothing more I think I could do, to be honest.”
He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “Then there’s nothing more you can do,” Jinshi murmured. He squeezed her gently, then some vigorous movement caught his eye, and he nudged Maomao to look. “Are they supposed to be doing that?”
She glanced over and let out another long sigh. “No.” Maomao pushed herself up out of Jinshi’s arms and delivered a swift cuff to both of her apprentices heads. “What did I say about cross contamination?”
“It’s bad?” Sazen offered.
“Obviously,” Chou-u muttered, head bowed beside him. “Don’t get us in trouble.”
Jinshi hugged Maomao tightly again as soon as she sat back down, hearing her exhale slowly. They watched the two apprentices finish the medicine in silence. Jinshi could tell there was something on Maomao’s mind; there had been more and more since Luomen’s entrance into the palace, since the day she’d leave for Seitan started to creep so close that it was it was visible on the horizon.
She’d be leaving in less than a week, Jinshi mused. The ship was prepared, already docked in the trade port. Its crew was getting the last of everything ready, and Lihaku had been sent to familiarize himself with the crew with Basen. Chue had been given two weeks leave prior, and now was getting the entourage’s preparations ready. When Jinshi had went to visit Ah Duo last week, Suirei told him she’s already finished packing.
Maomao had been rushing to make sure everything was okay for her to leave. Jinshi wasn’t sure if she was honestly even getting that much sleep, or good enough of it, if at all.
“We’re almost done,” she mumbled. “Are you staying the night again?”
Jinshi nodded, breathed a soft yes into her ear. He felt her squirm a little. “Tonight again, yeah,” he replied, holding her a little closer. “And then we don’t see each other again until the morning of your departure.”
“And then we don’t see each other for a year,” Maomao said wryly.
Jinshi felt her melt into his front, and hooked his chin over her shoulder. “Don’t act so pleased,” he teased. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me.”
She huffed a laugh.
Once Maomao deemed their concoction passable, Maomao made them clean up. Once she deemed that passable, she dismissed them for the day and pulled Jinshi into the annex with her, sliding the door shut and locking it.
Jinshi thought this could go one of two ways: she was either making sure no one would interrupt them during their nap, or she was making sure no one would interrupt them during… whatever it was she wanted to do that wasn’t napping. They did their normal routine of washing up and getting dressed for a sleep. Jinshi plopped onto the bed as soon as he was done, accidentally getting a view of Maomao’s bare back in the light of the setting sun.
“I can feel your eyes on me, Jinshi-sama,” Maomao said amusedly. Jinshi’s face burned. “What’s the harm in looking? It’s a body, sir. It’s a bit unsightly, but it’s a body. You have one yourself. When we marry, we will, you know, consummate it.” She pulled her robe on and padded over to the bed, a tiny smile on her face. “What, are you a prude?”
“A little.” Jinshi’s mouth dried the instant he remembered the thin layers of fabric that separated her skin from the air, from his sight. “Are you suggesting I look more at you?”
Maomao folded her hands in her lap. “I’m suggesting that this is the last time we have the chance to talk to each other away from prying ears and eyes, and then we won’t be able to talk face to face for a long time,” she said. “I thought it might please you to be able to remember as much of me as you can.”
Jinshi swallowed. “How much will you allow me to remember of you?” he managed to ask. He dared not reach out to touch her. “And of what…” He slowly lost his train of thought as Maomao helped him lie with his back against the wall before she sat back, a hand or two away from him. Still in his grasp, if he tried.
She didn’t say anything more as she hiked up her skirt, exposing the smooth expanse of her shins, then her knees. There was nothing erotic or seductive about the way she moved, but Jinshi still felt like he should look away.
“I can stop, if you so desire it,” Maomao said, her hands pausing. “If you are uncomfortable—”
“No! I just…” Jinshi exhaled haltingly. He steeled himself. “I’m not uncomfortable. My self control is waning, is all. And I’m not sure what I might do.”
“I trust you,” was all Maomao said before she continued. She gave up on bunching up her skirt, though, and just untied it entirely, discarding it on the mattress behind her. Like this, Jinshi could see marred skin on the tops of her thighs and the sides. Before he could look too long, she shrugged off her robe, too, leaving her scantily clad in her underclothes. “Go on,” Maomao told him. “Take a good look. Memorize it, if you’d like. You can touch.”
Jinshi reached out hesitantly, grazing his fingertips over the old scars on her legs. “Are these from your experiments?” he asked. His voice sounded too loud in the quiet of the room. “Old?”
Maomao nodded. “Grams wouldn’t let me do it on my arms because most courtesan dresses don’t cover it well, and she didn’t want to keep getting me gloves as I grew. We compromised on the thigh. No one should want to look there unless they had some peculiar tastes.”
He let out a little laugh, before letting his hands drift up to cup her cheeks. “You know,” Jinshi said, “there is only one part of you that I would need to commit to memory, and I have already done so.”
The look Maomao gave him was delightful. “My face, sir?” she asked, her cheeks squished in his hold. “There’s nothing special about it.”
“It is the face of the woman I love,” he countered. “It’s your face.”
She sighed. “Well, you can have a closer look, if you’d like. Pardon me.” Maomao sat herself on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Like this, they were chest to chest, and the scrap of fabric that hid her chest did very little. Still, Jinshi looked at her face, studied every freckle that she painted on there, every eyelash. The way her pupils threatened to swallow her irises whole. “I was thinking,” she mumbled, “that perhaps you’d allow me to memorize you, too.”
Jinshi nodded slow, and felt her undo the tie at his waist, then the other. She pushed his robes off, both shoulders at once, revealing his skin to the cool air of the room. He suppressed a shiver.
Unlike him, Maomao took her time to run her hands over every inch of skin he had exposed, leaving tingling traces in her wake. She smoothed her fingertips over his chest, his abdomen, and, after he allowed her, they dipped below his waistband.
His breath caught in his throat when he felt her hand close around him, giving it the same treatment as she did the rest of him, before her hand re-emerged. Jinshi was sure his face was flushing red by the time she sat back on her heels and declared her memorization over.
“Really?” Jinshi asked, despite his own nervousness. “You can memorize something by one touch? One glance?” He gently laid her down on her back, bracing himself over her. He nipped at the skin of her neck, the lobe of her ear. Maomao gave him a look; not to stop, just a ‘really?’ as he pressed open mouthed kisses from just under her ear, in a line, down to her belly button. Her knees had fallen open for him to kneel there, and he kissed her legs too, feeling her shiver when he let out a tiny puff of a breath on her inner thighs.
He left a kiss there, and there, and there.
There.
And there.
Maomao never objected to it. She just observed him as he studied her like she did him, until he had finished covering her arms with kisses, too. “Are you quite done?” she asked. Jinshi nodded. “It’s your turn to lay on your back, then.”
Jinshi gladly laid down, getting to see Maomao situate herself on his hips. She was getting to be very familiar in that position. She leaned down to seal her mouth over his, their breaths coming quick and short as she licked into the heat of his mouth. Jinshi’s hands found their way to rest at her waist and her thigh, just to keep her steady.
She detached herself from his lips just to graze her teeth over his neck, sucking at the delicate skin there. Jinshi almost choked at the sensation of her rolling her hips so slowly he wasn’t sure if she even knew she was doing it.
“Maomao—” His breath hitched as she bit down more insistently, teeth sinking so deep that he was sure he could feel it in his bones. Jinshi’s next noise couldn’t even be counted as a word. It came out in a quiet whine, and Maomao’s laugh against his skin made him want to make her laugh like this again and again and again. Still, he tugged at her arm and mumbled, “I think it would be unwise to continue this any further.”
Maomao scraped her teeth over the bite and sat up, shifting her weight. Jinshi squeezed his eyes shut.
“Alright,” she said, and clambered off of him, pulling her clothes back on. She laughed ever so slightly when he didn’t move, and chucked his robes at his face. Jinshi unfroze, then, and redressed himself. “Did you enjoy that?”
“It will be impossible to forget, so you’ve achieved what you were trying to do.” Jinshi yelped as she tackled him down back onto the mattress. “I did. Enjoy that, I mean. I hope you amused yourself.”
Maomao smirked. “I did,” she said, covering them both with the blanket. “I know I’ve said this before, but you’d make a very good courtesan.”
Jinshi rolled his eyes.
They cuddled up to each other, neither of them saying anything more as they basked in each other’s presence. This was the last time in a while that they’d have the chance to do this. The last time they could speak truthfully, without fear of being heard. The last time Jinshi could hold her this tightly, this closely.
“Do you think Chou-u will be okay with Sazen?” Maomao asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “And are you sure you’ll take him for winter and spring?”
“I think he’ll have fun with Sazen,” Jinshi replied, rubbing rhythmic circles into her hip bone. “And I’m sure I can take him. Suiren will spoil him rotten, even if I can’t watch him.”
Maomao tucked her face into his side. Jinshi got the feeling she was trying to not say something. He pressed a kiss to her hair, instead of asking her what was wrong. He knew what she was worried about. It was too close to the event horizon that it was the only thing on both their minds. He, in particular, was trying to think of ways he could convince her to take a ring with her on her trip.
He was going to miss her so much.
Sometime later, Jinshi woke up in the dark room, Maomao still in his arms like she so often was nowadays. It was hard to believe that it’d been a year since they returned from their trip to the northern province, but it also felt like two lifetimes ago.
He leaned down to press a soft, chaste kiss over her lips. Jinshi couldn’t afford to fall back asleep and waste the time, so he stayed up, feeling the weight of her in his arms, hearing the quiet noises of her breathing, the way her chest rose and fell in accordance to it. Every movement, every noise, Jinshi was reminded of how much he loved her. How much he was going to miss her. She was going to be gone for a year and two months, if not more. What might change in the time she was gone?
Jinshi didn’t want anything to happen. It would be best, he thought, if she left, and time passing left with her, so that he could be frozen in time on the dock from the moment she left to the day she came back. Nothing would change, and he wouldn’t even have to suffer a day without her.
“Jinshi…” Maomao sighed in her sleep, nuzzling her face into his side as she muttered something unintelligible. “… Stupid sparkles…”
He wished she wouldn’t go.
He was going to miss her, so, so much.