The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 1

She must have been much admired for her beauty in those halcyon days before she had arrived at the palace, but when she got here, she discovered she had known as much about the outside world as a frog who had spent its life in a well.

“My sincere apologies,” Maomao said. “I couldn’t think of compensation that would be worthy of you, Master Jinshi.”
Would’ve been rude to give a eunuch an invitation to a brothel, right?

The fact that the Emperor had asked this of a young girl like Maomao meant either that he knew perfectly well that the doctor of the rear palace could not be relied upon, or that he didn’t care if either or both of them died.

Maomao was a relatively objective thinker for a girl of seventeen, but she had a few qualities that continually dogged her. For one, curiosity; and for another, a hunger for knowledge. And then there was her budding sense of justice.

It was always possible he was the current emperor’s guardian, but considering Jinshi looked to be about twenty years old, it was hard to imagine. Maybe he was the son of the Emperor or something, but then why become a eunuch?

hand and soft-looking padding in the other.

Maomao balled up the padding and dusted the powder

The palace serving staff were grouped into six shang, or main offices of employment. The shang fu, or Wardrobe Service, dealt with the dispensation of clothing,

Suspicious fart. Too much time on his hands...

The lower-ranked serving girls were handled differently depending on whether or not they could read. Those who were literate and those who were not each had their uses,

You there, with the freckles, it said. You stay here.
That, at least, was the gist of it. The beautiful man must have noticed Maomao’s reaction, because he turned his fullest smile on her. He rolled up the paper again and clapped his hands twice. “We’re done here for today. You may all go back to your rooms.”
The women, with plentiful disappointed glances back over their shoulders, exited the room. They would never know what had been written on the nymph’s paper.
Maomao watched them leave, and after a moment it occurred to her that they were all petite women with prominent freckles. But they hadn’t heeded the sign, which must mean that they couldn’t read.
The message hadn’t been for Maomao alone. She made to leave the room with the others, only to feel a hand placed firmly on her shoulder. With much fear and trembling, she turned around to find herself confronted with the almost blinding smile of the nymph-man.
“Now, now, mustn’t do that,” he said. “I want you to stay behind.”