Chapter Text
Loulan was named for the northern plains from where her mother came from.
It's a promise of grandeur, a reminder what it had been called long before it came under the leadership of Li. But it's also, maybe subconsciously, a love letter to the life she left behind - to the man she had to leave behind, when the then-Empress Regnant decreed that she was to marry her son.
Because even her mother, the late Emperor's Noble Consort and mistress of the Shi branch family, used to be a young girl hopelessly in love, once.
She used to have her humanity, once.
That's what Loulan tells herself, when she has to sit through another one of these sermons.
"I respectfully refuse, Esteemed Mother." Loulan has her head bowed, hidden behind her sleeves in reverence, but she's still standing at attention, ready to flee this scene anytime. Her mother really called her out at the very start of her day to talk about...this, again. Loulan has so much work to do right now and she does not have the time to think any more thoughts about her mother's..."helpful suggestions". "You know as well as I do that a marriage like that won't do us any favors."
"Why not? You're young, pretty, titled. You also happen to be the same age as the Dowager Empress' younger brat." Shenmei smiles serenely as one of Loulan's ladies pour her a cup of tea. Technically, as the late Emperor's Noble Consort, she should have her hands busy with managing her own fiefdom right now. But somehow, she keeps inviting herself to Loulan's palace, and the frequency of her visits has been increasing ever since the Imperial Brother had come of age. "You're working with him so much, aren't you? Won't that make a harmonious relationship?"
Loulan has to make a conscious effort to keep the bland smile she has firmly on her face, because the shiver she feels from her mother's scheming gaze threatens to jump out of her skin. The marriage partner Shenmei is talking about happens to be Zuigetsu, currently masquerading under the name Jinshi.
The administrator of the Outer Court, a celestial beauty made flesh, and Loulan's own half-brother.
"That harmonious relationship you speak of is there because we see each other as siblings, dear Mother." No thanks to you, Loulan thinks. Shenmei always didn't like Anshi, the current Empress Mother, and it mostly has to do with how she has two sons and Shenmei only has her. Loulan doesn't like to think too much about how she and Zuigetsu were terrifyingly within their own father's strike zone - especially doesn't like to think about how Shenmei used to scheme to trap her alone with the late Emperor, in some twisted plan to one-up her rival.
Because a young Zuigetsu could have been mistaken as a breathlessly beautiful girl, but Loulan was an actual young girl, and...Loulan doesn't want to think about what could have happened, then.
But - mercifully - the Empress Mother, Zuigetsu's people had quickly learned that they had to keep her safe from the man like they did their own charge. That's why she and Zuigetsu grew up relatively close, as children, but Loulan also knew she couldn't rely on them forever. So slowly and surely, Loulan begun to learn how to hide in plain sight.
And that's why, really, right now, her mother definitely has to go.
Shenmei huffs and smacks her tea cup down on the table with more force than necessary. Loulan feels she intended to smash the cup into smithereens, for dramatic impact, and just failed to pull it off.
"This won't be the last time, Loulan. I'll be back the next fortnight, and this time, you will agree."
If only her mother wasn't shooting daggers at her, Loulan would have rolled her eyes. She hears this at the end of every visit, now. "I understand. Please, have a safe trip."
Right now Loulan has her striking makeup on, has the Imperial Sister's hairpins arranged around her head like a crown. But as soon as her mother leaves, she sheds all that weight and take on the severe robes of the Inner Court administrator, the dark blue matching "Jinshi's" own. This is the uniform she takes on when she takes on the name of "Shisui".
She nods to her ladies in waiting and calls for Suirei, who usually gets assigned to deal with something elsewhere whenever Shenmei visits like this. Loulan doesn't think her mother would appreciate that her first love's daughter is working so closely with her only child.
"My Lady, should we take our leave?"
"Let's go, Suirei. The Inner Court won't sort itself out." Turning to the lady-in-waiting beside her, Loulan grins. "Hopefully we can get back home earlier today - can you prepare dinner for us just in case?"
"Of course, Young Miss. Please take care, you two."
Loulan - no, from her next steps out, Shisui - runs a very small, tight-knit crew of people. The less people who know about the Imperial Sister's real occupation, the better. She still has a few handmaidens more than the Imperial Brother's one, but definitely a lot less than their eldest brother, His Majesty the Emperor himself. She likes it better this way.
Most of Shisui's handmaidens share similar heights and builds with her, with the sole exception of Suirei. This comes in handy for Royal functions where both the Inner Court official Shisui and Imperial Sister Loulan have to be in attendance, because as long as Loulan sits quiet behind her ostentatious silks and veils nobody can figure out the difference - not even Shenmei herself.
She remembers when she had let this slip to both her Imperial brothers - their eldest admitted that He would have berated her to high hell if only she hadn't been so ingenious, and Zuigetsu had whined and said he wished he could have body doubles, too. It just wouldn't work, his siblings had chided, because how in damnation is that face supposed to happen twice?
"We're here, My Lady."
"Oh, there they are at it again." Shisui sighs, hearing the ruckus they are about to come across.
This had been their problem, these past few months. In the middle of the square, the Emperor's two consorts draw a striking scene. Consort Lihua, her robes a blue as deep and resplendent as an iridescent dragonfly, fuming with anger as she stood tall with her attendants gossiping haughtily behind her. On the floor in front of her, Consort Gyokuyou, her hand touching lightly against the red mark on her cheek, a poor complement for the shocking red of her hair, as red as a ladybug's distinctive forewings.
And between them, the Inner Palace doctor, fussing and fretting as he looked from one woman's face to another. They really need more medical personnel, but then again, how many eunuch doctors does this country even have? There was this one lead Loulan wanted to look into, but technically that person had been banished, so she would have to first track them down and then ask for special dispensation from His Majesty...decisions, decisions.
That aside, Shisui wonders how she could possibly break this scene up, send everyone their merry way. Some fortunate fate up there must love her somehow, because she's always had a knack for getting along with people - she's comfortable enough to think that Consort Gyokuyou and Consort Lihua would let her talk to them separately, air out their concerns.
As far as they know, they have to be nice to Shisui - the rare, previously estranged, distantly Royal relative, young but somehow vaguely unmarriageable, mercifully given a new purpose in life as the gardener pruning the Emperor's garden - given the blessing and burden to serve as His Majesty's eyes and ears.
But how can she pull them away from this angry high, how can she calm them down?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Shisui hears it. One person's soft voice, barely audible against all the noise. She hears it a little more clearly when the person approaches where she's standing.
"Have to get something to write on," the person mumbles, more to herself than anyone else. It's a young girl's voice, calm and steady in a way Inner Court personnels' aren't usually. "Then, how to send it..."
Shisui turns around barely enough to see the speaker of those words: a servant with dark hair, the orange of her robes indicating she was a lower ranking serving girl, put in care of laundering the wardrobe of those in the Inner Palace. There's a scrap of cloth tying her hair from her face, and freckles across her cheeks. That's as much as Shisui gets to see before she disappears into the crowd.
Hm, that's probably nothing, Shisui thinks, before turning back to put herself in between the two Consorts, because somehow this is her life now.
A vaguely herbal scent hangs in the air as she takes a step forward.
Shisui had just wanted to ask Consort Gyokuyou if she had any idea how her Lingli had managed to escape the jaws of the same illness that took away Consort Lihua's beloved little prince, and the consort had smiled serenly and merely showed her this tattered piece of cloth, edges uneven as if they were torn off of a bigger piece.
She turns the cloth around in her hands and sees the characters written there: the face powder is poison, don't let your child near it. She blinks once, twice, in confusion, before looking up to the softly smiling woman in front of her.
It makes sense, if you think of it. Consort Gyokuyou's skin had the natural glow of health; face powder would only dull its glory. On the other hand, the last time Shisui had dropped in on Consort Lihua's palace, the powder only made her sickly pallor a little less evident.
"What face powder could this be talking about?" Shisui asks.
"You see, our princess gets hungry often, so my milk isn't usually enough for her. We had to get a wet nurse, but she fell ill so I sent her home. With a generous severance package, of course." The consort's green eyes twinkle as she watches her Lingli squirm around in Shisui's arms, but they widen appropriately in alarm when the princess' hands move to reach for one of the longer curls framing her face. "No, Xiaoling, don't do that to Miss Shisui..." Consort Gyokuyou turns to her lady in waiting Hongniang, who then moves forward to take Lingli.
"It's okay, Consort Gyokuyou. This jiejie doesn't mind a little bit of play." Shisui's grin is sweet and terribly genuine when she turns to the apologetic consort. She always wanted to have a little sister. Technically Princess Lingli is her niece, but it just isn't the same, isn't it? "So, this face powder - the wet nurse used it?"
"Yes. She always said it was whiter than other powders, and that she would go out of her way to buy it." Gyokuyou sighs. "If only I had caught on to it earlier. I should've paid more attention to what our princess consumes."
"The same goes for me. I should have noticed that earlier, before any of this even happened." Shisui sighs, nursing a lovely headache. She is not looking forward to reporting this to His Majesty later. But at least they can avoid future happenings now, and warn others appropriately - wait a second.
Gyokuyou seems to have understood what Shisui wanted to ask, because she's already shaking her head. "No, she refuses to hear it. I understand that Consort Lihua's still heartbroken over the loss of her Prince, but it appears like she just doesn't want to listen to anything I say, at this point."
"That's what I was afraid of." Shisui sighs, and vaguely notes Suirei at the other side of the room having her finger being squeezed by the Princess in Hongniang's arms. That one is definitely a great elder sister, but ever since she had to work at Shisui's side, she almost never went home to her family. It breaks her heart some times, but what can she do? "But it's a relief that you and the Princess got better...who gave you this message?"
"I was hoping you could help us with that, Lady Shisui. Remember the time when you saw me make a scene because our doctor just didn't go visit my daughter? We made such a scene." Gyokuyou sighs. She's actually just barely a few years older than Shisui, but...she's already a mother, a wife, potential mother of the Nation.
Would this have been already the life Shisui had lived, if she wasn't who she was right now?
"Anyway, we got home to see this by one of our windows. Tied around the branch of a rhododendron flower."
Rhododendron - meanings differ depending on the time and place and color, but Shisui has read enough of Suirei's plant encyclopedias to know that it usually means "beware". Something usually about wrong decisions and danger hidden behind beauty. Shisui thinks that this person would have have read at least half as much as she did to know to use this flower amongst all the flowers in the Royal gardens.
That kind of person...sounds interesting.
"The doctor would never do this - he could have just told you outright."
"I know, right? And from what I've heard -" Gyokuyou looks around, before leaning forward to whisper nearer to Shisui's ear, "- he never really did know what the late Prince's ailment was, either. So I'm not confident that he would even know what caused it."
"So it has to be someone else. But you said after that incident, so it also means, someone else who can tell what was going on by just seeing that...oh!"
"Have to get something to write on..."
Dark hair, tiny build, servant uniform. One in a similar million, but for the freckles on her cheeks, and the faintest whiff of medicine.
Shisui can't help but have the corners of her mouth turn up into a satisfied grin. "Consort Gyokuyou, what do you think would you do if I could tell you I can find this person?"
"I wouldn't be surprised. Our Lady feels like a miracle worker sometimes." Gyokuyou's answering smile is so big sisterly in its warmth that Shisui can't find it in herself to look away. She can see why the Emperor gets so fond of her, enough to title her his most precious one. "I would thank them, of course. I owe them my and Xiaoling's lives. Then I would ask if they want a change of employment."
"Oh ho, immediately upon meeting them?"
"You know, I'm perfectly fine with the girls I have now, but it wouldn't hurt to have someone with medical knowledge in. I don't think we have enough of those." There's a twinkle in the consort's eye that reminds Shisui of how she herself is when she sees something interesting. "You can keep the message for now, if it can be a clue. Would you need the face powder, too?"
"Yes, please." Shisui takes the proferred cloth bundle. The thing inside feels breakable, a bit heavy. Suirei rushes to her side to take it from her hands, probably at high alert from the moment she heard it was poison. Always such a worrywart! "I'll get back to you as soon as I follow this lead. We'll have to go through a few thousands of people in the Inner Court, you know."
True enough, the cloth was a clue. It's definitely not the rich silk and cotton Loulan and Shisui get to wear, so this softness under her hands would be a hemp that got laundered quite a few times.
So: someone who's been around long enough for their servant attire to have been washed this much. Shisui's caught herself turning the piece around in her hands over and over, when no one was watching.
Do you think we can just round up all the freckled girls wearing this uniform and have a go with it? Shisui had chuckled to Suirei offhandedly, but she could have never expected her assistant to go above and beyond and actually pull it off.
A quick study, that one. Sometimes Shisui feels she's way too overqualified for the job of being technically her minder. Shisui wonders, however, how much of this feat was due to how much of a people person Suirei can be if she puts her heart to it...and how much of it was because no one can seem to look at that handsome face and deny her what she needed.
Now, technically, Loulan would acknowledge that it's quite unfair to dangle Suirei in all her attractiveness in front of the Inner Palace ladies, but also, practically speaking, Shisui thinks that whatever works, works.
"Somehow we got them all into one room, but how do you think we can narrow it all down to one?" Suirei whispers, low enough so no one around them could hear. They look around them - definitely just a handful of people left when they'd removed all the girls shorter than Shisui, with freckles on their face, but it's still an overflowing handful. They're all wearing robes made out of the same fabric scrap tucked within Shisui's sleeves. Shisui looks at those gazes and pauses.
Right there.
There is something almost familiar about how that one girl looks so much like she doesn't even want to be here, evading everyone's attention. Everyone else either looks curious or terrified, with a few other girls definitely swooning over Suirei - ah, why did she go with the masculine look right now, doesn't she know how these girls act in the presence of fresh meat? Shisui hides a smirk behind her hand.
But the thing about hiding in plain sight is that it just doesn't work against someone who's also doing it themselves.
"Excuse me, young miss," Shisui says, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she parts the crowd and walks straight up to the girl in question. "Could you give me a little bit of your time?"
Her eyes are wide and genuinely surprised when Shisui addresses her, but she doesn't even get a word in because Shisui just...grabs her hand and makes a run for it, bursting through the doors with the girl in tow. She thinks she can hear Suirei sighing behind them as she's left with the rest of the confused girls, but Shisui figures, selfishly, that she can make something of it herself - have them temporarily assigned to the Imperial Sister's washing or something, she wouldn't mind.
An empty room at the end of the hallway. Shisui does a little twirl with her hand to deposit the other girl inside the room first, before locking the room behind her. She hasn't spoken a word since, not a single thing past those lips in spite of all those questions Shisui can imagine behind those eyes. Shisui only smiles and says, "You're going to have to excuse me for a moment!"
Then she crouches down on her knees to flip the other girl's skirt up.
"Hey!" She reacts, which is expected, but as soon as she realizes what Shisui has her hands on, she just...stops, which is interesting. There's an amateur attempt of mending a tear at the hem of her inner robe, somewhere that no one could notice, even if they were paying attention. She really thought it through, but maybe not enough to get away with it. Shisui smells a whisper of those herbs again, somehow, much like the ones Suirei had pointed out to her around the Palace gardens before.
"Charmed to meet me, I'm sure." Shisui grins, then helps herself up, bows as low as she can without ringing any alarm bells. How low is she supposed to bow to a servant girl in this position, anyway? "My name's Shisui, may I know yours?"
"Maomao, from the Wardrobe Service."
Maomao, written with the character for cat. Shisui remembers that she had once been compared to a fox, with her penchant of weaving in and out of half-truths and excuses. Do cats and foxes even get along? Shisui's interest was in insects, not really on the larger classification of animals as a whole, but maybe she can start reading up sometime.
"Wonderful to meet you, Maomao." Shisui says, still with that shining grin in place. His Majesty always said that his younger siblings had a penchant of charming people to do their will, and Shisui can only hope she can truly do that as well as Jinshi does. Shisui holds the fabric scrap aloft, matching it against the worn fabric of Maomao's skirt. "This was your work, am I correct? No, you don't need to deny it. I know I'm correct."
"There must have been a mistake," Maomao says, her voice an unnatural sweetness, unlike how it had been when Shisui had rifled through her skirts. "I am of lowly birth. I would have never been able to write such complicated letters."
"How do you know they're complicated, then, if you can't read them?"
There's the faintest glimmer of something - bright like a moth's wings at night - that wakes up in Maomao's eyes, once she's realized what she'd just let slip. Then she wisely keeps her mouth shut.
"See? That's what I mean, exactly." Shisui looks at her - really looks at her. She knows that the group of girls this Maomao was called alongside was supposed to be the girls who could not read or write. Being literate in the Inner Palace gave one higher status and pay, the chance to have better jobs assigned to you. One would usually pretend they were smarter, but in this case... "Why would you even pretend that you know less than you do?"
Maomao sighs. Shisui has the feeling that she's just given up on the facade, somehow. The other girl's voice goes lower as she speaks. "I just wanted to get through my service quickly, without incident. The more I stand out, the less the possibility of that happening."
Why the rush? Shisui makes a mental note to ask her about that, later. "But in spite of that personal goal, you still stuck your neck out enough to give us this." She waves the cloth in the space between them, like a banner. "And for that, a few certain someones are grateful. Don't you want to see how they're doing?"
"I wouldn't dare." Maomao says, her head bowed and hidden behind her sleeves now. "This will be the first and last incident, I promise."
"What if I tell you I don't mind if you have more incidents like this?"
"...Pardon?"
"You said you wanted to get through your service quickly, right? Maomao, may I ask, what was your occupation before you got here?"
Maomao blinks. Shisui hadn't cleared anything up at all, but somehow she has to answer all of this strange young woman's questions. It was expected, but still quite unfair. "I was an apothecary by profession. My father taught me everything I know. I don't see how this changes anything."
"No, it changes quite a lot." Shisui leans forward, excitement thrumming through her blood as she watches uncertainty flicker through the other girl's poker face. "Our Inner Palace would definitely appreciate having an apothecary amongst its ranks, don't you agree?"
Oh, Shisui was going to enjoy reporting this.