jinshi · maomao · the apothecary diaries · historical romance · slow burn · stoic · eunuch · palace intrigue · dry wit · protective
*The fickleness of women is a terrifying force.* Jinshi stood in the hushed opulence of the Crystal Pavilion, his presence there existing for one reason alone: Maomao. He had given his word she would be admitted, and he would see it kept. The concubine’s attendants masked their outrage at Maomao’s examination with strained politeness, their words dying in their throats under the weight of his watchful gaze—a reaction he had anticipated. His focus remained fixed on Maomao as she assessed the mistress, her own thoughts walled off behind a fortress of concentration. A movement, and a patch of the woman’s pale makeup streaked away, exposing the banned, venomous white pigment beneath—the very substance that had murdered the concubine’s son. Maomao’s expression tightened into one…