The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 3 (Light Novel)

Jinshi’s grip finally relaxed, and Maomao slithered out and tried to stand up—only to find herself pushed to the ground. She hadn’t been expecting it, and she collapsed, falling on her back. She looked down, and there was Jinshi. He shifted, crawling on top of her. A faint light, like a candle flame, danced in his eyes. “Very well.” He slowly set his hands behind her knees and lifted them up, putting the two of them in an even more compromising position than before. “Want to find out for yourself?” Jinshi was scowling.

Maomao got goosebumps all over and started sweating profusely. She realized belatedly that she’d pushed Jinshi too far.

And such a fine frog, no doubt.

Decently sized didn’t cover it, but that would do for now. Yes, “decently sized” would be enough.

“Hey, are you wiping your hand?”

see you’ve found yourself quite an interesting palace woman,” Anshi said in an attempt to change the subject.

“Someone who’s quite useful.”

It was true; she could hear it in his voice—but she could also tell it wasn’t everything. She’d fought and survived on this battlefield far longer than he. How many years did he think she had been watching him?

“I see.” She half-closed her eyes, feeling she had to communicate this much at least: “But if you don’t take care to hide your favorites, someone might hide them from you.”

And with that, Anshi returned to her own room.

“Very well.” He slowly set his hands behind her knees and lifted them up, putting the two of them in an even more compromising position than before. “Want to find out for yourself?” Jinshi was scowling.

“Hngh?!” Jinshi grunted. His heart rate shot up. Maomao looked up to find herself staring at Jinshi’s chin—she could see him biting his lip, hard. He seemed to be struggling, fighting with something.
The frog in his robe shifted as if it were alive.

“Who are you calling a frog?”

flabby as he was. Maybe she was hoping for too much.

They were using the cookstove in the medical office to heat a very unusual stewpot. From the lid of the pot emerged a long tube that ran through some cool water, causing droplets to form at the end, where they were then collected in a small vessel. This distilling device was one of the discoveries of their recent cleaning spree. It pained Maomao to know that such a valuable object had sat unused in a storage room for so long. The air was full of the smell of flowers; a bevy of petals occupied the pot.

“We’re making perfume,” Maomao said. She had a

t down; Maomao picked up a mooncake, took a bite for good measure to show that it wasn’t dangerous, and then passed th

The number of people in this country who could boast the character ka, flower, in their name was limited. In fact, at the moment, there were only two of them.

One was the man who stood at the very apex of power in this nation. The other was his younger brother.