Kevin Steinbach

Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”

Perhaps you’d be interested in asking the Emperor’s younger brother to plant his seed in your belly.”

I can’t even ask my lady-in-waiting to help me change my clothes now, let alone allow a doctor to see me. And above all...” He got to his feet, wrapping one arm around Maomao’s torso and pulling her with him. The cloth that had been cooling his midriff slid off.
“W-Wait! Master Jinshi!” Maomao tried to fight him, but with his wound right there, she couldn’t struggle too hard.
“My wife will have to be a woman I can trust implicitly.”

“This will be my pillow”—and put his head smack on Maomao’s knees. The crown of his head was pressed up into her stomach, and his arms were wrapped around her back.
“Master Jinshi...”

Jinshi’s grip finally relaxed, and Maomao slithered out and tried to stand up—only to find herself pushed to the ground. She hadn’t been expecting it, and she collapsed, falling on her back. She looked down, and there was Jinshi. He shifted, crawling on top of her. A faint light, like a candle flame, danced in his eyes. “Very well.” He slowly set his hands behind her knees and lifted them up, putting the two of them in an even more compromising position than before. “Want to find out for yourself?” Jinshi was scowling.

Maomao got goosebumps all over and started sweating profusely. She realized belatedly that she’d pushed Jinshi too far.

“Yes, sir. In that case, I—”
Jinshi interrupted her, patting the bed beside him.
Maomao didn’t say anything.
“It would be tiring for you to stand there the whole time we’re talking. Have a seat.”
“Certainly. I’ll go get a chair...”
She was about to do just that, but Jinshi grabbed her wrist. He was giving her his bring-the-country-to-its-knees smile. “Have a seat.” Just when she’d thought he was behaving himself today

you hate me so much?” he asked, his face now less like a wild dog and more like a puppy. Love, hate—some people wanted the world to be so black and white. Why wouldn’t he give her the choice of a gray area?

“I suppose I don’t hate you as such,” she said. She might even think of him favorably. Certainly, she regarded this noble more positively than she had back when they’d first met.

Jinshi pursed his lips, not very pleased with this evasive answer. Maybe he was hoping she would come right out and say she loved him, but quite frankly, Maomao wasn’t at a point where she could bring those words to her lips. The best she could manage was that she wasn’t without a certain affection for him.

“Are you sure?” A smile flitted across Maomao’s face, and she slowly pulled her hands away. Except they didn’t leave his cheeks. Jinshi held them there. “Please let me go, sir,” she said.
“Don’t want to.”

“Most people who ruin themselves beyond repair do it at work, while continually swearing they can keep going.”

That left Jinshi quiet for a moment, but his face darkened. “Isn’t that what an apothecary is for? To make them better?”

“Yes, sir. More or less. Shall I prepare an herbal bath for you?”

“No...” Jinshi held out his hand.

Huh?

Maomao stared at it, trying to decide if it had some significance. His hand was large, the fingers long. The nails were neatly clipped and filed.

The large hand stretched a little farther and placed itself on Maomao’s head.

Yikes!

He mussed her hair as if he were petting a dog. She tried to slap him away, but he dodged her nimbly.

“What the hell, sir?” she asked, patting her disheveled hair back into place. She hadn’t had a chance to bathe for several days, so it felt thick and greasy.

“I simply made myself better. So I wouldn’t reach my limit so soon.” Jinshi held his head high, as if to say he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“There must be better ways to do that, sir.”

“Is that an invitation to utilize these...ways?”

Neither of them said anything.

Maomao backed away a half step and crossed her arms in an X.

“Tell me about these ‘better’—”

“Okay, I’ve reported everything I have to report! If you’ll excuse me!” And then, with an artful dodge, Maomao ducked out of the room.

Outside, she let out a long breath. He’s been so indirect lately that I’d forgotten.

Jinshi’s true personality was to charge ahead. His methods could be brutal. If he had been showing restraint with Maomao, it was only because of the ridiculous way he’d decided to go about this.

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.