The spring sun filtered through the windows of the Jade Pavilion, illuminating the shelves packed with jars and dried herbs. Mao Mao, with her usual impassive expression, ground ginseng roots in a mortar. The rhythmic sound of the pestle against stone was almost meditative, a constant rhythm that helped her concentrate on the exact proportions she needed for the digestive tonic she was preparing.
She had learned long ago that medicine was as much art as science. Too much ginseng and the patient would suffer insomnia. Too little and the tonic would be useless. Balance was everything.
Behind her, the sharp sound of the door made itself heard without warning.
Gaoshun, Jinshi's loyal assistant, entered with his usual serious and respectful expression. Despite the years he had spent serving in the palace, the man never lost his military composure.
"Apothecary Xiaomao," he said with a formal bow. "Master Jinshi requests your presence in his office. It's a matter related to the new arrivals at the palace."
Mao Mao looked up from the mortar, slightly arching an eyebrow. It wasn't unusual for Jinshi to summon her, but he generally sent a message with some servant girl, not Gaoshun in person.
"Is it urgent?" she asked, pointing to the mortar. "I'm in the middle of a preparation that can't be interrupted or I'll lose the correct proportion."
Gaoshun observed the mortar with his characteristic patience.
"Master Jinshi mentioned he could wait ten minutes, but no more. He said, and I quote verbatim: 'Tell Mao Mao that if she doesn't come in ten minutes, I'll come myself and carry her here, and we both know that would be uncomfortable for everyone involved.'"
Mao Mao sighed. That sounded exactly like something Jinshi would say.
"Understood. Give me five minutes to finish this and store the ingredients properly."
Gaoshun nodded and waited in silence by the door, hands crossed behind his back, like a stone statue. Mao Mao worked quickly, finishing grinding the ginseng, mixing it with the correct proportions of licorice root and dried ginger, and storing everything in jars labeled with her meticulous calligraphy.
Exactly four and a half minutes later, she cleaned her hands on a clean cloth and turned toward Gaoshun.
"Ready."
They walked in silence through the corridors of the inner palace. It was mid-morning and the palace bustled with activity. Servant girls ran back and forth preparing rooms for the concubines, eunuchs supervised supply deliveries, and in the gardens, ladies-in-waiting strolled under silk parasols.
Mao Mao observed everything with her usual analytical eye. She noticed that one of the servant girls was limping slightly—probably a poorly healed blister—that the cherry blossoms in the eastern garden were beginning to fall—a sign that spring was advancing—and that there was an unusual number of guards near the central courtyard.
"Has something happened?" she asked, nodding with her chin toward the guards.
Gaoshun followed her gaze.
"There was a... minor incident this morning," he responded in his neutral tone. "A pillar collapsed in the central courtyard. Fortunately, there were no injuries."
"A pillar collapsed?" Mao Mao frowned. "How is that possible? The palace pillars are inspected regularly."
"Apparently, it had internal termite damage that wasn't detected in previous inspections," Gaoshun paused. "Or so it's being reported officially."
Mao Mao caught the nuance in his voice. "Officially" meant there was more to the story, but Gaoshun wasn't the type of person who shared gossip or speculation. If she wanted to know more, she'd have to ask Jinshi directly.
They arrived at Jinshi's office, a spacious room decorated with elegance but without excessive ostentation. Bookshelves filled with scrolls and documents covered the walls, and a dark wood desk dominated the center of the room. Behind the desk, with his usual expression of almost supernatural beauty, was Jinshi.
He wore his official robes, but had removed his outer cape and had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a sign that he had been working on paperwork for hours. Several scrolls were scattered across the desk, some rolled, others open with jade weights keeping them flat.
"Ah, Mao Mao," said Jinshi, looking up with a smile. "Punctual as always. Thank you, Gaoshun."
Gaoshun bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Jinshi pointed to a chair in front of his desk.
"Sit. This will take a while."
Mao Mao sat, maintaining her straight posture and neutral expression. She had learned that when Jinshi said "this will take a while," it generally meant he was about to ask her something complicated or inform her of something that would require her attention.
"What's happening?" she asked directly.
Jinshi smiled at her lack of preamble. It was one of the things he appreciated about Mao Mao: her efficiency.
"The new eunuchs will arrive tomorrow at dawn," he began, leafing through one of the scrolls. "This year the candidates came mainly from the southern provinces, where drought has forced many families to send their sons to imperial service. We have seventeen new arrivals in total."
Mao Mao nodded. This was routine. Every spring new eunuchs arrived to replace those who retired or were transferred to other palaces.
"And you need me to prepare medical examinations for them?" she asked. "It's standard procedure."
"Yes, but that's not the main reason I called you," Jinshi set down the scroll and took another, this one sealed with an official seal that Mao Mao recognized as belonging to the Department of Imperial Examinations. "There's one in particular who... well, he's peculiar."
"Peculiar how?" Mao Mao felt a spark of curiosity.
Jinshi smiled, as if he had been waiting for that question.
"The only candidate who obtained a perfect score on the knowledge examination I personally prepared this year," he said, with a tone that mixed impression and amusement. "And it wasn't an easy exam, Mao Mao. I included questions on history, basic medicine, mathematics, court protocol, and even some... let's say, philosophical questions."
"A perfect score?" Mao Mao arched an eyebrow. "That's unusual. Most eunuch candidates have basic education, if any."
"Exactly," Jinshi opened the scroll and turned it so Mao Mao could see. "But this candidate didn't just answer all the questions correctly. He even answered correctly questions that technically had no correct answer."
Mao Mao leaned forward, intrigued despite herself.
"How is it possible to correctly answer questions with no answer?"
Jinshi pointed to a specific section of the exam.
"Look at this question: 'If a doctor must choose between saving a noble patient whose death would cause political instability, or saving five commoners whose deaths would have no political consequences, what is the correct decision?' It's a trap question, designed to evaluate the candidate's moral thinking. There's no objectively correct answer."
Mao Mao read the answer written in elegant and fluid calligraphy:
"This question has no correct answer in absolute terms, as it assumes that the value of a life can be measured in political consequences. However, if the examiner seeks to evaluate my understanding of courtly pragmatism, the expected answer would be to save the noble. If he seeks to evaluate my personal morality, the expected answer would be to save the five. But if the examiner is truly wise, he will recognize that the real question is: why does a system allow such a choice to be made? The most poetic answer, and therefore the truest, is that the doctor should strive to create a world where such a choice is never necessary. But since that doesn't answer the practical question: I would save the noble, mourn for the five, and dedicate the rest of my life to changing the system that forced me to choose."
Mao Mao blinked, rereading the answer.
"That's... surprisingly sophisticated."
"Right?" Jinshi smiled. "And look at this other one. I asked: 'What is the most dangerous poison?' I expected answers like arsenic, hemlock, snake venom. But he wrote..."
Mao Mao read:
"The most dangerous poison is ignorance, for it kills slowly and disguises itself as wisdom. But if the examiner seeks a more literal answer: the most dangerous poison is one that the victim takes voluntarily, believing it to be medicine."
"Philosophical," murmured Mao Mao. "But not incorrect."
"Exactly," Jinshi leaned back in his chair. "Every answer is like this. Technically correct, but with layers of meaning. It's as if he were playing a game with the examiner, demonstrating that he understands not only the superficial question, but also the intention behind it."
Mao Mao felt something strange in her chest. A mixture of curiosity and... recognition? That style of thinking, that tendency to see multiple layers in everything, seemed familiar to her somehow.
"Sounds like someone who enjoys complicating simple things," she commented.
"Oh, you have no idea," Jinshi let out a brief laugh. "The instructors who interviewed him call him 'the king of problematic mysteries.' Apparently, he has a gift for detecting problems before they occur... and a tendency to solve them in the most theatrical way possible."
"Theatrical?" Mao Mao frowned. "That doesn't sound appropriate for an inner palace eunuch."
"No, it doesn't," admitted Jinshi. "But his intelligence is undeniable. And in the palace, intelligence is a valuable resource, even if it comes accompanied by... eccentricities."
He took another scroll, this one with the seal of the Personnel Department.
"According to the reports, he also brings collateral problems. Nothing serious, but there are always... minor incidents around him. One instructor reported that during his training, he 'solved' a rodent problem in the grain warehouse by attracting a family of wild cats. It worked, but then they had a wild cat problem in the warehouse."
Mao Mao couldn't help a small smile.
"He solved one problem by creating another."
"Exactly. Although, to be fair, the cats eventually left on their own, and the warehouse was left rodent-free. So technically it was a success," Jinshi paused. "But you see the pattern. Intelligent, effective, but chaotic."
"And why are you telling me all this?" asked Mao Mao. "Normally you don't get so involved in the details of new eunuchs."
Jinshi looked at her directly, his expression becoming more serious.
"Because I want you to observe him closely. Evaluate his medical knowledge, his way of thinking. If he's as intelligent as he seems, he could be useful as your assistant. The cases we handle in the inner palace are becoming more complex, and you could benefit from having qualified help."
Mao Mao considered this. It was true that sometimes she felt overwhelmed with the amount of work. Having an intelligent assistant could be useful. But it could also be a distraction if this "king of problematic mysteries" was as chaotic as Jinshi suggested.
"What's his name?" she finally asked.
Jinshi opened his mouth to answer when—
CRASH
A deafening crash shook the building. The scrolls on Jinshi's desk trembled. Fine dust fell from the ceiling. On the shelves, several decorative objects clinked dangerously.
Mao Mao stood up instinctively, her mind already analyzing the sound. It wasn't an explosion. It was the sound of something heavy collapsing. Wood and stone. Something structural.
Jinshi had also risen, looking toward the window with an expression between amused and resigned.
"And there it is," he murmured. "Right on time."
"What was that?" asked Mao Mao, approaching the window.
From Jinshi's office, they could see part of the central courtyard. There was a cloud of dust rising, and a crowd of servant girls, guards, and concubines was already forming.
"If I had to guess," said Jinshi, with a sigh, "I'd say our new prodigy eunuch just made his dramatic entrance to the palace."
"Dramatic entrance?" Mao Mao looked at him confused. "What do you mean? You said the new eunuchs arrive tomorrow."
"I said they arrive officially tomorrow," corrected Jinshi. "This particular one arrived early this morning," a groan escaped his lips. "And now it seems I'll have to do damage control."