i hate jinshi

“Welcome! Thank goodness you’re here!”

Jinshi was set back on his heels by Maomao’s warm greeting. Behind him, Gaoshun’s mouth hung open; he was clearly wondering what had happened.

“H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Xiaomao, you do know that that’s Master Jinshi before you, right? You don’t have him confused with someone else, do you?”

Maomao scowled. Ridiculous reactions, both. Gaoshun glanced at Jinshi, knowing he’d accidentally let the wrong name slip, and was greeted with an annoyed look from behind the mask.

“As far as it goes, yes...” Jinshi looked like there was more he wanted to say.

“And you can dress yourself?”

“Yes,” he said with profound annoyance. Maomao suspected she knew what it was he was holding back.

“I wish I could come to check on your progress every day, but I think the best we can hope for is about once every three days. Daily would be asking too much. That’s why I need you to be able to change your own bandage.”

During the vacation, it might be manageable. As long as Yao and En’en weren’t around, she might even be able to keep them in the dark about her nighttime excursions. But there were too many eyes and ears out there to keep things completely secret.

The rumor mill was already working the last time he came to the pleasure district.

Back then, he’d appeared every ten days so she could check on the scar on his face. He’d worn his mask, but that had only made him more provocative and mysterious. The signs had been obvious: from his clothing and perfume, everyone in the pleasure district had been able to tell he was somebody important.

But what the hell am I supposed to do about it?

Should I be concerned for your health?

Jinshi indicated a basket filled with baozi. Maomao took one of the buns and pulled it open, discovering a filling of minced meat and vegetables. She took a sniff; it had a faintly medicinal odor she recognized. It was the same as the stamina booster from the other day.

“An aphrodisiac,” she said.

“You can tell without tasting it?”

“It’s not harmful to speak of. Go ahead and take them home with you. Enjoy them.”

“I don’t think I could, knowing who they came from.”

“Indeed. I think you might have a visitor this evening.” Maomao made sure to sound downright nonchalant. Jinshi, who had clearly not expected this reaction, looked at a loss. He was just lucky she didn’t give him her staring-at-a-worm look. Giving her a bun to taste when he knew there was an aphrodisiac in it!

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.”

That smile—so bold, so bright—wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“A question I’m often asked.”

“Anyone ever tell you you look very different with makeup?”

“Frequently.”

The conversation gave her a sense of déjà vu. She let go of his hair and it fell back over his face. Jinshi reached out and tried to take her wrist. “Why are you running?” He looked sullen now.

“Please don’t touch the entertainment,” she said. It wasn’t her decision— it was the rules. They would have to charge extra.

“Why the hell do you even look like that?”

Maomao refused to meet his eyes as she said uncomfortably, “It’s... part-time work.”

“At a brothel? Wait... Don’t tell me you...”

Maomao gave Jinshi a glare. So he liked to question people’s chastity, did he? “I don’t take customers myself,” she informed him. “Yet.”

“Yet...”