Maomao could hear the mourners’ wails even from where she was far away.
The procession in front of the residence could be seen from the second floor of the villa too.
“How intense,” Chue said, like it didn’t concern her. “They said the funeral will be a solemn affair, but this would be considered flashy in the west.”
“Isn’t this still on the lowkey side?” Maomao moved away from the window and looked at the herbs on the table. It was a collection of herbs that grew in the grasslands. Chue had brought them over to her.
It was troubling since a piece of shocking news came fluttering in when she was going to process the herbs.
Apparently, Gyoku’ou has been murdered.
It was said that the murderer was a farmer who had come requesting money from Gyoku’ou since long ago.
When she heard the news, half of her reaction was shock and the rest were understanding, a strange sense of relief, and apprehension.
“Was it a farmer?” Maomao asked.
“Yes. So Maomao-san knows about the matter of how Gyoku’ou-sama had given too much charity.”
Chue called it charity, but it was actually money lending.
“That’s true. The one who received the money should understand that the other party isn’t a god, I think. What kind of conditions were associated with the money lending?” Maomao asked, feeling that the well-informed Chue would know.
“Yes. Exactly as you say. It wasn’t lent for free; there seems to be a condition that asks for providing manpower in the case of an emergency. But they’d probably thought that emergencies are rare. Villagers from further out west aside, those in the vicinity of the western capital wouldn’t get attacked by foreign tribes.”
There was a rebellion the other day, due to their belief that there won’t be a war in some distant land, or at least, during their generation. Apparently, the motive for Gyoku’ou’s murder was his show of standing up for Jinshi and inciting war.
“It’s not that I don’t understand.” Maomao could empathise somewhat with the farmer who killed Gyoku’ou. People won’t think the fire will concern them until the sparks descend on them. The poorer they are, the more they think about themselves. And due to their narrow vision, they are attracted by short term desires. “Can I ask a question? What happened to the murderer?”
“It seems he was immediately subdued. The farmer’s family was informed of the matter before it was publicised.” Chue-san took the opportunity to say what Maomao wanted to ask. Entire families had been put to death for targeting the lives of royalty. Although Gyoku’ou wasn’t royalty, he was Empress Gyokuyou’s older brother and Gyoku’en’s son. While he did give Maomao’s group a bad impression, he had a huge backing in the western capital. Even if the criminal had already been executed, the family will be in danger.
“Were they able to get away properly?”
“Chue-san doesn’t know. But from a legal standpoint, vigilantism is forbidden in the western capital, so it’ll be troubling if they’re not allowed the opportunity to properly escape.”
It was prohibited by law, but she had no idea how effective of a deterrent that was. Since the citizens had gone as far as to crowd around the villa where the imperial brother was at, they had pretty much lost their minds.
“So, Maomao-san, anything else you want to ask?” With a smug look, Chue sat on a chair.
Maomao also took a seat and picked up a half-wilted medicinal herb. She planned to dry just the leaves she plucked from the stem. “What is going to happen now? Even if temporary, he had been acting on behalf of the lord. Like work and other stuff.”
“About that.” Chue picked up a stalk as if she was helping out as well. Though she messes around, the attendant was capable. Copying Maomao, she deftly tore up the leaves into shreds. “It seems, last year–has it already been a year?–Rikuson-san has taken on the bulk of the work. When we combine that with the work the aide did, setting that one point aside, it wouldn’t be an issue.”
“It seems that one point is too fatal.”
“Yes. We don’t have anyone who can become the face. We’re in a pickle.”
“Ahhh.” Maomao agreed, doubting at the same time.
“It would be reasonable to have Rikuson do it when you consider his job, but he’s from the capital.”
When you look at his response to the locust plague, it looked like he had sufficient leadership skill, but he’d be far too weak to act as the successor.
“I was thinking, but doesn’t Gyoku’en-sama have a lot of other children?” Maomao asked to confirm.
“Yes, he does, he does. Just counting his sons, he has five.”
“Can’t we have one of them do it?”
“About that…” Chue minced her words. “All of them have their expertise.”
“Expertise? What kind?”
“Ships, pottery, things like that. A lot of them are craftsmen. No matter how exceptional he is, Rahan’s older brother wouldn’t be suited for national politics, right?”
Maomao imagined Rahan’s older brother not with a hoe but with a desk job. She supposed he probably could manage it normally. She could imagine it, but he would be much more useful working in the fields.
And people in a superior position, even if they are normally up for the task, cannot do it. Even if they are outstanding, one mistake and they will be immediately replaced.
“If only there was another person trained to be good at politics,” Maomao said.
“They might not have wanted to fight with their eldest brother. Also, in terms of politics, Empress Gyokuyou was the one who rose in eminence more than anyone else did,” Chue said.
“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”
She tied a familial relationship with the emperor. She won’t be able to rise any higher. And Gyoku’en was a former merchant who also became the uncle of the emperor.
But this was troubling.
Who can govern the western capital?
“Gyoku’en-sama won’t be returning to the western capital at this point in time, right?” Maomao asked.
“It’ll be difficult for him in terms of his position. Even if the one who died was his biological son, I don’t think he’ll be returning to the western capital now. So they will be holding a meeting after the funeral. The Prince of the Moon must have it hard,” Chue said.
“There would have to be some other distinguished person, right? Wouldn’t they manage somehow?”
“It’s troubling even if you ask Chue-san about it. But there’s one thing that’s undeniable.” Chue closed her face towards Maomao.
“Wh-what is it?” Maomao asked, slightly pushed back.
“Regardless of the result, the Prince of the Moon will be exhausted when he comes back. It’ll be good to give him a medicinal broth to dispel his exhaustion. Something that’s not bitter, if possible.”
“…I’ll prepare it.”
As Maomao plucked leaves, she thought that she should go check to see if the quack doctor didn’t eat up all the honey she brought with her.
.
.
.
The next day, Jinshi was exhausted, impressively so, as Chue predicted. So much so that even the quack doctor who usually gets fooled during his visits openly suspected he was sick.
“End it here. I’m tired. You can go back,” Jinshi said.
The quack left disheartened. Maomao stayed behind.
(This is a bit awkward.)
Their last proper face to face meeting was since that roundabout act he called replenishment. However, Jinshi’s fatigue was nothing to sweat at, so she also wanted to ask him what happened out of curiosity.
As if the whole of Jinshi’s entourage had already got a hold of the information, the air was gloomy. What on earth was this tiresome thing they talked about?
“For the time being, sit down.”
Abiding by Jinshi’s words, she sat down. She had already passed the medicine she made to Suiren.
“Ask me what happened?” he said.
“What happened?” Maomao asked as she was told.
“About that…”
Honestly speaking, when was the last time he was this exhausted before his retainers? Occasionally he would be this sluggish when only Gaoshun was around, but…
(Suiren, Taimei, Chue and Basen…)
Baryou was probably also around even though she can’t see him.
Jinshi was being lazy in front of everyone. Suiren and Taomei weren’t telling him off. He must have a reason to be languishing like this.
Suiren gently placed the medicinal broth before Jinshi. Maomao called it a broth, but it was closer to a soup. Flavours turn weird when you ineptly try to mask the bitterness with sweetness, so she turned it to a soup. She added energising vegetables to the herbs and made it into a stew with yoghurt and milk. She simmered it until the sinewy meat fell apart easily.
Honestly, the ingredients were too crude and odd-tasting for royalty, but Maomao cooked with the most effective ingredients in mind. It was green–the last traces of it being medicine–but it shouldn’t taste bad. The quack doctor, Chue, and Rihaku vouched for its great flavour.
Jinshi sighed after drinking a mouthful of soup. For someone who told her to ask him, he was putting on airs. However, as if it suited his taste, he dug the spoon in and ate the ingredients in the soup.
(Is he hungry too?)
He ate it all in one go. He wiped his glistening lips with the back of his hands, a mannerism befitting a youth his age.
However, the next instant, his face grew stern. He fixed his posture and his exhausted expression also eased. The switchover was quick.
“Who will become the leader to govern the western lands? As you would believe, we were going around in circles at the meeting,” he said.
“I can see it,” Maomao replied while giving Taomei a quick glance. She would still be fine before Suiren and Chue, but Taomei’s eyes were certainly scary. She was feeling a bit anxious since she didn’t know what of her behaviour could Taomei deem as disrespectful.
“Everyone rejected the proposal to bring out Gyoku’en’s other sons. All of them are outstanding in different domains, but they are not suited for politics. None of them are,” Jinshi emphasised. He also clenched his fist. “Next, we called on Gyoku’en-dono’s aide. He would have no issues in terms of work, but he doesn’t have the mettle to be in a superior position.”
“His character is more comfortable with being an aide.”
“Yeah.”
People like that exist. Not everyone desires to succeed in life. There are people who are satisfied with having enough to eat even if they have no social standing. It seems Gyoku’ou’s aide was that kind of person.
(Did they gather around him or did he gather them?)
It would be better to have an aide who preferred to have a good enough position even if they didn’t stand at the top. With such an overly earnest personality, getting saddled with work will ruin his stomach, though.
“We also called on powerful people in the western capital. Their answer is no. Their reason, as a merchant, is that there are more risks than benefits.”
“They are very merchant-minded.”
“That’s the kind of town it is. Gyoku’en-dono would be happy to expand his power, but the power relationship of other merchants are around the same.”
She had no idea how many merchants of the western capital had power, but if they got them to come out, other powers could crush them. They currently have their hands full with the locust plague. She understood that they didn’t want to increase their workload.
“I have one person in mind, but…” Jinshi trailed off.
“Yes. Who is it?” she asked.
“Rikuson.”
When Maomao heard the name, she thought, It’s turned into that, huh. Even that name came to Maomao’s head, so Jinshi must have thought about it. Above all, there was no mistaking that Chue had reported it.
“Do you not agree?” Jinshi looked a little bothered.
(Yeah, let’s talk about it before it turns into a pain.)
“During the locust plague, I saw that he didn’t panic. Besides, to be able to be employed as the weirdo’s aide, you’ll need some pluck, right?” Looking objectively, she could see he was highly capable.
“Yes, Chue-san also sang high praises of him.” Chue’s hand shot up. At her side, the raptor’s eyes glinted.
“But they brought up the fact that he was from the capital,” Jinshi said.
“That’s true.”
As long as Rikuson came from the capital, it would be better if he didn’t meddle too much.
The flow of the discussion was as Chue said.
(The circumstances would be different if he’s from the western capital, though.)
Hm? Something about her thoughts bothered Maomao a little, but she pinned it down to her imagination.
“Instead, they told me to be the leader.”
“HUH?!” Maomao jumped to her feet and yelled out.
The raptor eyes faced her.
Embarrassed, she sat back down. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it means,” Jinshi said. “The aide and other officials will be working as normal. However, he suggested I stay behind as the face. That, man, called, Riksuon, did!”
(Woah…)
And this was why he was tired. The main point was what he purposely emphasised.
“Let alone putting me in charge, wasn’t I supposed to be a guest?” Jinshi asked.
“That’s true,” Maomao said.
“In truth, it wouldn’t be strange for me to return to the capital already, right? Why is everyone looking at me? Huh?”
“That’s true…”
Come to think of it, she remembered that this visit would take three months, at the shortest. But she didn’t hear how long it would be at the longest.
(How many months has it been?)
Maomao counted with her fingers. They had been in the western capital for close to five months. When you include the sea trip, they had left the capital for half a year.
She really wanted the man called Gyoku’ou to be murdered at a later time. No, not that she was saying that being murdered was a good thing, but he died after clearing up the misunderstanding towards Jinshi, the imperial brother. He only stirred up the citizens for war.
How much of a nuisance was this old fart?
(But what would happen even if he lived?)
If a man with this much power in the western capital had incited a war, she had no idea how long Jinshi could oppose him with his standing.
They might have avoided the war with Sha’ou, but…
“But, what about J-Jinshi-sama?” Maomao faltered a little as she used the name Jinshi. The raptor, her eyes were truly scary.
“Either way, I did say that I plan to stay, right?” he replied.
“…” Staying silent was the correct answer.
If it was a pain, it would have been better if they left right after the locust plague. Considering his position, no one will complain, and in reality, there were probably one or two letters inviting for the return journey.
There were people in turmoil due to the locust plague, getting attacked by foreign tribes, no leader while hearts were in turmoil. Jinshi must have also thought about the terrible course of events that would lead to.
“We can’t leave the western capital as it is,” Maomao said.
“Exactly.” Jinshi sighed deeply. He was back to looking exhausted. Then this gaze wandered around Maomao.
“What is it?”
“…It’s probably so much safer to return to the capital with the current situation.”
While she wondered who he was referring to, she then realised that he was talking about her. “I suppose.”
For Maomao’s safety. Despite saying that, in the end, she had been covered in locusts and rioters had crowded the villa.
But that was the wrong thing to say here.
“Please don’t tell me to return at this late of a time. The weirdo tactician will go back too,” Maomao warned him.
(In truth, I want to go back, I really want to go back, though.)
She held it in. “If you talk about how much the capital is bothered by the weirdo tactician’s absence, I honestly don’t believe it’s a problem. Rather, although he might be a little noisy, wouldn’t he be more useful staying in the western capital? He has someone to play shogi with too.”
“But–”
“I am a pawn that won’t change the course of the battle no matter where you put me, so it can’t be helped. I am a pawn to you, right, Jinshi-sama?”
“….”
“Do you have something you want to say?”
“…soup.” Jinshi, averting his eyes, opened his mouth. “I want another bowl of that soup.”
“…yes, I’ll bring you another serving.”
You have utility value, so stay. Can I take this as what he means? Maomao wondered. It’d be nice if the quack didn’t eat it all up for supper, she thought as she considered rude things, like, Would putting up a signboard that states ‘purveyor of the imperial household’ be okay?
