The following morning arrived with a fresh breeze that stirred the cherry blossoms, creating small pink whirlwinds in the palace courtyards. Mao Mao had slept restlessly, her mind turning over the events of the previous day and especially Lian's enigmatic words. "I know," he had said. But what exactly did he know?
She headed to Jinshi's office with determined steps, carrying with her a detailed report on their findings in the warehouse. The aroma of medicinal herbs that always accompanied her mixed with the morning air, creating a fragrance she had come to associate with solving mysteries.
Upon arriving, she found Lian already waiting outside the office, casually leaning against a column. He wore a clean tunic and his hair was perfectly arranged, as if he had slept deeply and without worries. Upon seeing her approach, his expression transformed into that theatrical smile she was beginning to recognize as his usual mask.
"Good morning, apothecary," he said with an elegant bow. "I hope you rested well after our... productive encounter yesterday."
There was something in his tone that suggested multiple layers of meaning, but before Mao Mao could respond, Gaoshun appeared and invited them in.
Jinshi's office was bathed in the golden morning light that filtered through the paper windows. The master was seated behind his desk, but this time there were no scattered scrolls. Instead, there was a single sheet of paper in front of him, and his expression showed a mixture of satisfaction and amusement.
"Ah, our investigative duo," said Jinshi, looking up with a smile. "Please, sit. I'm eager to hear about your findings."
Mao Mao and Lian took seats in the chairs in front of the desk. Mao Mao noticed that Lian maintained a careful distance between them, as if he wanted to avoid any accidental contact.
"We identified the cause of the problem," Mao Mao began, adopting her professional tone. "Mercury vapors from the alchemy laboratory were filtering through cracks in the shared wall, altering the properties of the herbs on the adjacent shelves."
"The solution is relatively simple," Lian added. "Seal the cracks, improve the laboratory ventilation, and replace all the affected herbs."
Jinshi listened to them in silence, nodding occasionally. When they finished, he leaned back in his chair with an expression that Mao Mao couldn't completely decipher.
"Excellent work," he finally said. "Record time, I must add. You solved in one night what the supervisors couldn't figure out in two weeks."
He clapped slowly, and the sound resonated in the office like the prelude to something important.
"In fact," he continued, taking the sheet of paper he had in front of him, "your work was so efficient that I feel obligated to confess something."
Mao Mao felt a tingle of suspicion at the base of her neck.
"Confess what?" she asked.
Jinshi smiled, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that Mao Mao had learned to recognize as a sign that he had been manipulating the situation from the beginning.
"I already knew the cause of the problem in the warehouse," he admitted. "The alchemists informed me about the ventilation problem three days ago. The repair was already scheduled for this week."
A heavy silence fell over the office. Mao Mao felt a mixture of irritation and understanding.
"So this was... a test?" she asked, her voice carefully controlled.
"A compatibility test," Jinshi confirmed. "I wanted to see if you could work together effectively, if your different approaches would complement or clash. And I must say you exceeded my expectations."
Lian had become very still, and Mao Mao noticed that his hands were perfectly motionless on his lap. Too motionless, as if he were exercising conscious control over them.
"And what's the verdict?" asked Lian, his voice maintaining its theatrical tone but with an underlying tension.
"Officially, Lian, you are assigned as the apothecary's assistant," announced Jinshi. "Congratulations to both of you."
Mao Mao felt a mixture of contradictory emotions. On one hand, she had proven that Lian was competent and knowledgeable. On the other, Jinshi's manipulation irritated her, and there was something about Lian that she still couldn't place.
"However," Jinshi continued, and his tone became more serious, "now that you've demonstrated your ability to work together, I have a real case for you. Something that genuinely has me baffled."
He stood up and walked to the window, looking toward the gardens where the servant girls were beginning their morning tasks.
"During the last three weeks, we've had a series of... minor incidents in the main supply warehouse. Nothing dramatic, nothing that causes immediate alarm, but consistent enough to be worrying."
He turned toward them, and Mao Mao could see that his concern was genuine.
"Small amounts of supplies have been disappearing. Not food or valuable items, but strange things: hemp rope, lamp oil, small amounts of salt, undyed cotton fabric. Things that individually don't have much value, but that together..."
"Could be used for something specific," Mao Mao completed, her mind already beginning to work on the possibilities.
"Exactly," Jinshi nodded. "And there's more. The guards have reported strange sounds at night. Nothing they can clearly identify, but they describe it as... scratching. As if something were moving inside the walls."
Lian leaned forward, his interest clearly awakened.
"Have they found physical evidence of these sounds?" he asked. "Claw marks, animal excrement, hair fibers?"
"That's the strange part," Jinshi responded. "There's no physical evidence of animals. But there is something else peculiar."
He walked back to his desk and opened a drawer, taking out a small object wrapped in silk.
"This was found this morning in the warehouse," he said, carefully unwrapping the object.
It was a small figure carved in wood, no bigger than Mao Mao's thumb. It represented a person in a position of reverence, but the details were strangely precise. Too precise to be a simple decorative carving.
Mao Mao approached to examine it more closely, and her breath caught. The figure wore a tunic that was identical to those worn by the palace concubines, and its face, though tiny, had features that seemed vaguely familiar to her.
"Are there more of these?" she asked, carefully taking the figure.
"This is the third one we've found," Jinshi confirmed. "The other two represented different people from the palace. A servant girl and a guard, both identifiable by their uniforms and physical characteristics."
Lian extended his hand, and Mao Mao passed him the figure. She observed how he examined it with the same meticulousness he had shown with the herbs the day before.
"The wood is cherry," he murmured. "Fresh, recently cut. And look at this..."
He pointed to the base of the figure, where there were small marks that seemed to be letters or symbols.
"Can you read it?" asked Mao Mao, approaching to see better.
Lian frowned, turning the figure to better catch the light.
"It's not a language I immediately recognize," he said. "But the symbols... there's something familiar about them."
Jinshi observed them attentively, and Mao Mao had the impression that he was evaluating not only their ability to solve the mystery, but also how they interacted with each other.
"There's one more thing," Jinshi added. "The incidents seem to be escalating. The first disappearances were minimal, barely noticeable. But each week, the amounts have increased slightly. And the sounds have become more frequent."
"As if someone were preparing for something," Mao Mao murmured, her mind already beginning to form theories.
"Or as if something were growing," Lian added, and there was a note in his voice that made Mao Mao look at him with curiosity.
"Growing?" asked Jinshi.
Lian seemed to realize he had said more than he intended. His expression closed slightly.
"It's just a theory," he said quickly. "But if the sounds are from something alive, and the stolen amounts are increasing, it could suggest there's more than one creature, or that they're growing in size."
It was a logical theory, but Mao Mao noticed there was something more in the way Lian had expressed it. As if he had specific knowledge about something similar.
"I want you to investigate this thoroughly," said Jinshi. "You have full access to the warehouse and authorization to interrogate any staff member you consider relevant. But be discreet. We don't want to cause unnecessary panic."
He addressed Mao Mao specifically.
"And this time, it's a real case. There's no known solution waiting for you. I trust that your combined skills can get to the bottom of this."
Mao Mao nodded, feeling the familiar excitement of a new mystery to solve. But she also felt an underlying unease. There was something in Lian's reaction to the carved figures, in his theory about "something growing," that suggested he knew more than he was saying.
"When can we begin?" she asked.
"Immediately," Jinshi responded. "Gaoshun will escort you to the warehouse and provide you with any resources you need."
As they stood to leave, Jinshi added:
"And remember, work together. Your different perspectives could be exactly what we need to solve this."
They left the office in silence, following Gaoshun through the palace corridors. Mao Mao noticed that Lian seemed lost in his thoughts, his expression more serious than she had seen so far.
"What are you thinking about?" she finally asked.
Lian looked at her, and for a moment, he seemed to be internally debating how much to reveal.
"The carved figures," he finally said. "They're not just art. They're... specific representations. Someone is studying the palace people, learning their characteristics, their routines."
"For what purpose?" asked Mao Mao, though she suspected she wouldn't like the answer.
Lian stopped abruptly, looking directly into her eyes.
"To replace them," he said in a low voice. "Or to harm them in a very specific and personal way."
The corridor seemed to become colder, and Mao Mao felt a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. There was something in the certainty with which Lian had spoken that suggested personal experience with this type of situation.
"How can you be so sure?" she asked.
Lian resumed walking, but his answer came so softly that Mao Mao almost didn't hear it:
"Because I've seen this before, freckles. And last time, it didn't end well."
Lian's words hung in the air like incense smoke, dense and disturbing. Mao Mao looked at him with renewed interest, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands had closed into involuntary fists. Whatever he had seen before had clearly affected him deeply.
"What do you mean it 'didn't end well'?" she asked, keeping her voice low as Gaoshun guided them through the corridors toward the main warehouse.
Lian didn't respond immediately. His eyes moved constantly, observing every shadow, every corner, as if he expected something to jump on them at any moment. Finally, when they were far enough from Gaoshun not to be heard, he spoke.
"In my native village, about five years ago, things began to disappear. Small things at first: tools, fabric, food. Then we found carved figures, exactly like the one Jinshi showed us. They represented specific people from the village."
He paused, and Mao Mao could see how his jaw tensed.
"Two weeks after the first figure appeared, the person it represented... disappeared. We never found her."
A chill ran down Mao Mao's spine. She wasn't superstitious by nature—she had seen too many "supernatural mysteries" that turned out to have perfectly rational explanations—but there was something in Lian's certainty that unsettled her.
"How many people disappeared?" she asked.
"Three," Lian responded, his voice barely a whisper. "Before the culprit was found. It was a man who had lost his family in a fire and had... lost his mind. He believed that if he carved figures of people and performed certain rituals, he could bring back his loved ones. The people who disappeared... he had kidnapped them for his rituals."
"Did they find them?"
Lian shook his head slowly.
"We only found their bodies. He had... —he stopped, clearly struggling with the memory—. It doesn't matter. The point is that these figures aren't just art or pranks. They're signs of something much darker."