(I want to eat open air kushiyaki….)
Maomao sighed, gazing up at the downcast sky.
Her surroundings was the most beautiful, dazzling world she had seen yet, and now was within the muddied dregs that squirmed in miasma.
(Has it already been three months? I wonder if dad is eating.)
The other day, she met with the kidnappers, who were villagers with names Ichi, Ni and San, when she went to look for medicinal herbs in the forest.
It was truly powerful and extremely bothersome marriage activity. A Marriage Capture in short; they were hunters for women for the imperial court.
Well, she was getting paid, and she may be able to return to town if she worked for two years. It wasn't a bad place to work, but that really depended on the person.
This talk was a nuisance for Maomao who lived as a pharmacist.
It didn't matter to Maomao that the kidnappers were capturing young girls and selling them to eunuchs to earn money for their alcohol expenses, or that they were made as substitutes for their own daughters. Whatever the reason, it won't change the fact that she got roped into this.
If it wasn't for this, she would have no connection with the Inner Palace in this lifetime.
Court ladies, clad in beautiful clothes and cloying cosmetics and perfume, had shallow smiles fixed on their lips.
The pharmacist should come around to think. That there is no terrifying poison in the women's smiles.
And that the palace where the court officials lived, and prostitution quarter beneath the palace were not so different.
She carried the laundry basket that was left by her feet in her arms, and headed towards the interior of the building. The tasteless courtyard was different to the exterior. It had a stone paved pool, where servants who were neither male or female washed a large amount of laundry.
The Inner Palace was forbidden to men. Only the countries' elite noble ones and their blood relatives, and the men who lost their most important thing were those who could enter. Of course, the ones working there are the latter.
While thinking it was warped, Maomao wondered if it was done because it was advantageous.
She set down the basket, and looked the rows of lined up baskets in the nearby building. It wasn't dirty laundry, just washing laid out for the sun.
She looked at the wooden tag that was attached to the basket. It had a drawing of a plant and a number on it.
There were also those who couldn't read among the court ladies. This was because it included those who were kidnapped too. Before they were bought into the imperial palace, they were taught the minimum etiquette, foregoing words as that was difficult. It is stretching to say the literacy rate of girls from rural places to be about half.
To say about the abuse in the Inner Palace that has become too large, the amount has increased but it is vicious.
Although it cannot possibly amount to the previous emperor's flower garden, the current one was a large family that consisted of two thousand consorts and court ladies, and three thousand eunuchs altogether.
Within that, Maomao was among the lowest of maidservants, receiving not even a government post. She especially lacked a backing shield; it was a given with the numbers of girls who have been kidnapped and force to form the majority. Well, if only she had a plump body like tree peony and skin white like the full moon, then she might have the chance to serve a low ranked consort. Vibrant skin covered in freckles, and limbs like a dead branch was what Maomao had.
(Let's finish this job quickly.)
Locating the basket with a tag that had plum flowers and "One-Seven" written on it, she slightly quickened her pace. She wanted to return to the room before the deep overcast sky started to cry.
The owner of the basket of laundry was a low ranked concubine. Compared to the other low-ranked consorts, the quality of the furniture in the private room she was bestowed was gorgeous but overly extravagant. One way or other, it gave in to the expectation that the owner of the room was a wealthy merchant's daughter. It is possible for those with a rank to have a lady's maid; consorts with low ranks were allowed two at most. Therefore, maidservants like Maomao, who didn't have a master to serve, carry laundry like what she is doing right now.
Low ranked concubines were permitted a personal room within the inner palace. But as these were located at the edge of the palace grounds, it would be rare to catch the emperor's eyes. Even so, if she was ordered to attend to his bedside even once, she can move rooms. A second time chosen had the meaning of a promotion.
On the other hand, consorts who have passed the suitable age without making the forefinger move, as long as their families have no substantial political power, would have their ranks lowered. At worst, they would end up being bestowed. Whether that is unfortunate depended on the person; it seemed that being bestowed to eunuchs was the most fearsome for court ladies.
Maomao knocked on the door lightly.
"Leave that aside over there."
It was a lady's maid who opened the door and bluntly answered.
There was a consort with a wafting saccharine scent waving a wine cup about inside.
Before entering the inner palace, she was praised to have a beautiful figure. She was, after all, like a frog in a well . After being overpowered by the other gorgeous flowers, and breaking her nose, she hadn't left her room recently.
(If you're inside the room, no one will come for you.)
Maomao received the laundry from the room next door and went back to the washing area.
There was still a lot of work left.
It wasn't that she liked it. She planned to work for her pay.
Diligent by nature, that was the former pharmacist Maomao.
She could eventually leave if she worked obediently.
By no means would she be chosen as a mistress. It was impossible.
It was regrettable that it could be said that Maomao's thoughts were too optimistic.
No one knows what will happen. That is life.
She possessed farsighted thinking for a seventeen-year-old girl. Even so, she had something that couldn't be restrained.
Curiosity and the thirst for knowledge.
And, a little sense of justice.
In a couple of days, Maomao will be exposed to the certain strange truth.
The serial deaths of the infants born from the Inner Palace.
It was called the Previous Concubine's Curse. For Maomao, it was bizarre, but a trifling thing to her.