Chapter Text
It’s a sunny day in the Pleasure District, a stark contradiction to the unpleasant storm of nerves raging within Maomao.
Tonight, at the Emperor’s birthday banquet, she would make her grand debut into society.
Tonight, at the Emperor’s birthday banquet, hundreds of eyes would be on her— the strategist’s like a hawk as he fixated on the real life Go board, the dance floor, eyes especially for his precious daughter and the Go pieces that would ultimately be dancing with her, choosing only whom he deemed were the worthiest pieces he would consider drawing up a marriage contract for.
Her older sisters were making a grand fuss over her, but she couldn’t blame them, as in this life, a woman’s worth was solely based on her status and rank in society. And she had to make a good impression, if she wanted to attract a good match. That lesson had been drilled into her by all the women in her life since she could speak.
If she’d had her own way, Maomao would have liked to remain as an unofficial assistant to her great-uncle and a daughter under the protection of her Clan. However, she understood that even she couldn’t outrun the prospect of society and marriage forever.
As the daughter of the La family, a prominent, named Clan, she should have been married off as soon as she came of age at fifteen, but she had made a wager against her father over a game of Go to delay her debut until she was eighteen, which Maomao had won, much to her glee, her father’s delight and her mother’s utter displeasure.
Truth be told, Maomao didn’t hate the prospect of marriage entirely, so long as she could maintain as much of her freedom as she could within its constraints, and she and her partner were amenable to being friends. It would be best for raising any children that way, to have their parents standing together in a united front.
Her father had also compromised with her— much to her mother’s immense dismay— to allow her free rein over her choice of spouse— he’d given his word that he wouldn’t force anyone on her that she didn’t like, but she in turn had agreed to meet them first, before turning them down completely.
There were certainly advantages of winning a bet against one’s father, she supposed.
Usually noble daughters in other named Clans would never have been allowed so much autonomy over their own lives and choices, but the amount of freedom she was given made Maomao think that this was her father’s way of making up for his shortcomings (which were a lot) when she was younger.
Not that she’d ever say that out loud.
Pairin, Meimei and Joka sat her down in front of the mirror of the vanity in Pairin’s room. Meimei gently massaged a warm, decadent honey and milk concoction into her face to soften her skin before wiping it off with a warm cloth.
After she had finished, Joka laid her down on the bed and began threading her eyebrows and upper lip, while Pairin rifled through her drawers to pick out her best makeup. Both women did not hesitate to voice their agreement with Meimei’s observation that, “Maomao, please. This is your Court debut. For once in your life, you have to dress to impress. That means makeup too. And no freckles!”
All she could do was sigh in fond exasperation and let her sisters pamper her.
🍄🍄🍄
Maomao and her mother were not close.
Luomen, her great-uncle, had explained to her that sometimes, when women had babies, it was difficult for them to bond with the child. He said that Fengxian had confided in him once, in a moment of rare vulnerability, that she wasn’t sure if she was fit to be a mother. That she felt empty and worthless whenever she looked at the baby, and couldn’t stand it when the child looked up at her with sad, blue eyes, as if seeking a mother’s comforting touch.
Baby blues, Luomen had called it. Sometimes, the effects of it would be serious enough that it endangered the lives of mother and child.
As Maomao grew, her mother’s feelings never changed. She learned at an early age to avoid the woman, and her mother never sought her out, always being too occupied with her social and Court duties to focus on raising her.
The same could be said of her relationship with her father, even though she’s the center of his world.
(Maomao sometimes wonders if her mother resents her for it— as she was the center of his world before Maomao came along. Maybe that was a part of the cause for the distance in their relationship, too, but it wasn’t as if Maomao asked for all of his attention.)
Her father, since he’d forcefully taken over the headship of the Clan from his father and half brother, was driven by the singular goal to keep climbing the ranks in the Military, and so he was rarely ever home, mostly staying in the Barracks of the Outer Palace.
Since her parents had no more children, no sons in particular, when her father seized headship of the Clan, her elder brother (her cousin) was adopted into their household, and thus Lahan and Maomao were raised by their nursemaids and Luomen (who was practically mother and father, at times).
The only difference between them was that Maomao had her older sisters at the Verdigris House, where Fengxian formerly worked as a Courtesan before she was brought out by Maomao’s father, and the Madam who had became her pseudo-granny. Between them, her uncle and brother, that was family enough for her.
🍄🍄🍄
“Lost in thought, huh?” Meimei asks, brushing Maomao’s hair to a sleek shine after dropping in just a touch of oil.
”I’m just thinking about how tonight is going to play out,” Maomao exhales, unease rising once again.
”Wow, you're nervous, huh? That’s not like you at all. But you’re a wonderful girl, Maomao,” Pairin kisses her forehead gently, “You’ll be a great match for someone, quirks and all.”
”You were, after all, trained by the best the Pleasure District has to offer,” Joka winks in her direction.
”I should get going,” Maomao could feel her ears heat at her sister’s comment,“They’ll no doubt be waiting for me at home to get dressed. That’s going to take forever.”
”Before you go, we had this made for you. You’ll wear it for us tonight, won’t you?” Meimei asks sweetly, presenting a jewelry box, “We may not be able to attend your debut, but I’m sure you’ll be glad to have a piece of your sisters with you.”
Maomao gasps as she peeks inside. It’s a gold hair stick laid out on a rich red cloth with four flowers made from gemstones— the first of the four is a magnolia, the second a plum flower, the third a chrysanthemum and the fourth a wood sorrel flower with two jade and gold stems hanging delicately over its edge. Her eyes well with tears as she immediately pieces it together: the flowers are meant to represent her and her sisters.
”Butterflies would have been too gaudy. We had this made to be delicate but beautiful and resilient like you,” Pairin says, brushing her hands over Maomao’s bangs.
They were Courtesans and may not attend the same events as Maomao, but Meimei was right. With the hair stick, she would always have a piece of her sisters with her. The thought settled her unease and brought her a welcome sense of comfort.
🍄🍄🍄
As she walked along the vending stalls set up in the open-air plaza of the Pleasure District, she can’t help but be distracted by the heavenly, mouth-watering scent of freshly made chicken skewers. Her stomach growls softly, and she narrows her eyes at the line, not hesitating for a second to join. It’s been too long since she’s had one. The tender skin, salty, delicious fat was practically calling her name!
Thus, Maomao finds herself waiting in the line, despite knowing that Xiaolan was probably patiently awaiting her return to dress her. She also knows all would be forgiven if she brings a skewer back for her young maid, so she makes a mental note to ask them to wrap one to-go.
Suddenly, a man approaches the stall’s line and taps her shoulder. Maomao is absolutely dumbfounded at his audacity as he looks at her and says, “I’m sorry but I’m in a rush and really can’t wait in the line. Would you mind if I went before you?”
To which Maomao, easy to rise to a temper, hisses, “Actually, yes, I do mind. Now I have to wait a while longer for them to prepare my skewer and my maid is waiting at home to dress me to attend a very important function tonight.”
”If you have somewhere to be, then the last place you should be is waiting for a chicken skewer in the Pleasure District,” the man says, flatly.
”The same applies for you, if you’re in such a rush,” Maomao sneers.
She regards him, disdain evident in her gaze. He’s dressed like the average commoner in green robes and sandals. His black hair, rough and coarse, is pulled back into a half-ponytail haphazardly tied with a simple strip of cloth, leaving a few pieces of shorter hair framing his face. He must have tied back bangs, then. His thin eyebrows sit upwards with a quizzical expression on his face, and the bags under his warm almond brown eyes betray his tiredness. He’s a tad chubby around the cheeks and stomach but despite it and the few moles on his face, he still is very handsome. The only thing off about him is his ramrod straight posture, which is rare among common folk. Still though, as handsome as he may be, there’s no reason for him to cut in the line!
”Can you not look at me like I’m a disgusting worm that ought to be crushed beneath your feet?” the man says wryly, a small smile playing at his lips.
And oh, if she thought he was handsome before—
”You are a disgusting worm I ought to crush beneath my feet,” Maomao grumbles, glaring up at him, shaking off her train of thought.
”Oi!” The vendor snaps, “Are you lovebirds going to order? If not, get out. You’re keeping back my line!”
The man turns pleading eyes towards Maomao once more.
”Fine. Go on,” Maomao scowls, rolling her eyes.
His smile widened as he regards her, positively sparkling, and proceeds to place his order.
Maomao does the same, and they step aside to wait for their skewers.
”My name is Jinka,” the man says suddenly, ending the silence between them abruptly.
”Maomao.”
“Do you know where this Resturant is? I’m supposed to meet a companion there,” the man asks, handing her a map, “That’s why I couldn’t wait in line for the skewers. I’m planning to take the skewers as a little appetizer for my guest.”
”Ah, yes,” Maomao looks at the map, instantly recognizing the name, “You’re going straight down this street and then taking a right. It’s right opposite the Wisteria Tea Room. However, it’s only in your best interest that I inform you that you’ll receive better service at the Verdigris House. And the girls there are more discreet.”
”I beg your pardon?” The man’s voice takes a low tone of disbelief that’s not quite unpleasant.
”This restaurant has an inn above that offers the same services as the Verdigris house. Were you not aware?”
“No!” He exclaims, horror filling his tone before he moans something under his breath, “I— My companion suggested there, but they probably meant it as a joke!”
”No judgment here. I can’t begrudge a man his pleasure,” Maomao says, raising her palms, “It is what funds my sisters’ livelihoods after all.”
The man has a slight blush vining along his nose and cheeks as he opens his mouth to say something.
“Your order, Sir,” says the stall attendant, handing a wrapped parcel over to Jinka.
”Thank you,” Jinka nods graciously, then says to Maomao, “And thank you for the directions. Now, when I see my mother—“
He saunters off into the direction Maomao pointed out, still mumbling.
Maomao doesn't think too much about the interaction as she makes her own way home.