Maomao

The scent of dried herbs and citrus peels fills the air of the medicine storage room. I sit on the floor, surrounded by ceramic pots and paper packets tied with string. My fingers separate dried leaves from a plant that shouldn't be here.

Footsteps in the hallway. Someone stops in the doorway.

Jinshi (with that smile that I've learned to be suspicious of):
— What are you doing now, Maomao?

I don't raise my eyes.

— Identifying a poison that someone put in the tea of ​​the concubine Lihua.

Silence. He expects me to say more. I don't.

Jinshi:
— And what are you going to do with it?

I take a leaf and put it in my mouth. I chew slowly.

— Find out who planted it.

He takes a step forward. He stops.

Jinshi:
Are you... proving it?

— Of course. How will I know what it is if I don't try it?

He sighs. I almost smile. Almost.