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Her hands were gripped tightly.
No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t seem to move. It was raining. It was always raining. Perhaps it was a deterrent, a way to block her cries and screams, her gruntings and fears left unheard.
Lightning flashed through, and with it came the glint of a metal far above her tiny head.
A woman holding a knife.
It was always the same woman.
The same dishevelled look, her clothes bloody left by her severed finger. Her hair was greasy, accumulated from years of neglect.
Maomao was always able to sense the same feeling from the woman above her.
The same hatred. The same disgust. The same sorrow.
The same manic gleam in her eyes as she plunged the knife down toward–
A baby.
A baby was laying below her.
Her hands were gripping the baby’s hand tightly, she could see red marks forming on it. She could see the blood dribbling down on it, the source coming from her own severed finger. The baby, her baby, lay helplessly. Crying and howling as it struggled for air.
And Maomao,
Maomao looked at it coldly, unfeeling and unchanged. Her other hand, the one that hadn’t been restraining her baby’s but had done just as much harm, was holding a knife.
Lightning struck.
The baby cried harder.
And her hand plunged toward the little fingers clutched helplessly between hers.
Jolting awake, Maomao took the much needed breath. Inhaling them greedily like she never knew the taste of air, like she had been underwater for far too long. Her heart was beating loudly, each pulse a hammer against her ribcage. She grabbed a nearby towel and shakily wiped the sweat gathered on her forehead.
That dream.
Maomao knew what it was, who the players were. She had been entirely familiar with it, had even lived through it. What changed was the sequence after that. She couldn’t get the image of the baby, trembling and afraid beneath her, out of her head. She couldn’t forget the sound it emitted, desperate as it stared at her.
Most importantly, she couldn’t forget the feeling. How it felt when her knife made contact with those precious fingers, what she felt when she held the pieces in her hands, all too ready to send them toward the one individual capable enough to make her go to such insane lengths.
Unsteadily, Maomao got on her feet and walked toward where a pitcher of water was placed.
The cool water against her dry throat gave the relief she needed.
However, it wasn’t the reprieve she wanted.
Staring out the window, she realized how late it still was. Not a single light peeking through, the hustle and bustles of the court’s activity had yet started. She should sleep, take as much rest as she possibly could. While she could. Yet everytime Maomao shut her eyes, the images left behind from the dream lingered starkly in her mind.
Laying back toward her bed, Maomao stroked her belly.
It was barely noticeable now, more so because she had a skinny body to begin with, but in a couple of months she wouldn’t be able to hide it as easily. The life within her would soon start to assert its presence, questions left unanswered if she delayed it any longer.
“I have to tell him,” she muttered, feeling the drowsiness engulf her as she started relaxing again. It wasn’t long before sleep took over once more.
—
“Maomao, you’re here!”
Maomao had her head bowed, arms in her sleeves as she walked in the chambers of the celestial being. It had been nearly a month since they last met, busy as they had been with their own work. The invitation had arrived to her just this afternoon, consequently with her determination to tell him of her discoverings.
Honestly there couldn’t have been a better time.
Walking inside, she sat at her usual spot, decided long ago by both of them it was to be beside him. A wide array of food was placed on the table, no doubt the results of Suiren’s handiwork. Placed enticingly to the side was a bottle of liquor, one that she knew she’d like based on their many drinking pastimes.
Though it wasn’t like she’d be able to have any tonight, or for the next eight months for that matter.
Ugh.
Jinshi, always the observant man, saw her eyes lingering on the liquor and grinned.
“I got this one from the west, let’s enjoy ourselves shall we?”
The west! Maomao writhed painfully. It was a rare chance for her to drink any kind of liquor, let alone one from the west. Biting her lips, Maomao thought of the last time she drank any alcohol at all. It had been more than three months ago.
Perhaps a sip would be fine?
No. I shouldn’t.
“I will have to refrain, sir.” She said, shaking the temptation out of her head. Maomao directed her focus toward the food that lay in wait before her. Suiren had prepared an assortment of fruits, abalone porridge, steamed bok choy, and her favourite soup dumplings. Unable to have lunch, she had been starving and was grateful that the nobleman had chosen today for them to meet. Her forgotten lunch had been worth it if she managed to get a taste of Suiren’s cooking again.
She couldn’t possibly eat ahead of Jinshi, the master of the house, so she had been waiting for him to pick up his utensils. Gazing toward him, she was confused by the lack of movements as he was just sitting there, staring at her with his mouth gaping. It painted quite a ridiculous picture, the dignified and charming act he wore no longer there.
“Are you alright, sir?”
“I should be asking you that.” He replied instead. “Did you truly just refuse to drink liquor?”
Ah. Well she could hardly blame him. For those who knew her, it had been unheard of for her to reject liquor unless absolutely necessary. Which was never. She never rejected drinking liquor before.
Until now.
“Are you sick?” The man frowned. His face scrunched as he eyed her all over, his palm resting on her forehead as the other took hold of her shoulder. He was acting like a mother hen, and Maomao couldn’t help but find it amusing. Chuckling, she took the palm from her forehead and placed it between hers.
“I’m fine,” she said. She should tell him now. It was the perfect opening to relay the news, tell him what she found out recently, what would happen in the next eight months and what preparation they’d need to take.
But just like the night before, her heart began to beat wildly and she could feel her palms starting to sweat. Her voice caught in her throat but still, she needed to tell him.
She had to!
“It’s just,” She forced out. “My stomach’s been unwell since yesterday.”
Ah, I failed.
“I see,” Jinshi said, frowning. The hand on her shoulder moved from its spot and made its way toward her belly where he assumed the issue was. Stroking it gently and far too lovingly, he leaned toward her stomach and Maomao was almost inclined to believe he had known the true reasons. “Make sure you take enough rest, okay?” He said, eyes still focused on her stomach. She loathed to admit that it sent strong flutters through her, all the way to her heart. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine him talking to her child, their child; consoling and comforting it. He’d certainly make a good father, far better than any other bums she’d seen in the entertainment district.
Maomao smiled softly at the man in front of her, still stroking her stomach as he did his best to “soothe” her stomach aches. Then his eyes stared back at hers, and Maomao had to force herself to wipe out the foolish expression from her face. She was getting sentimental.
It was unlike her at all.
“Will you be able to eat?” Jinshi questioned, his hand taking the dimsum steamer and offered it to her. “Should I have Suiren prepare something easier to digest?”
She didn’t think she had any problem with her meals, nor did she seem to experience any sort of morning sickness. But then again, it had barely been two months since she first discovered her pregnancy, and they typically wouldn’t show any issues then.
“I should be fine,” Maomao said, taking the dumpling from the steamer and popping it to her mouth. Relieved, Jinshi began taking his utensils and finally started eating.
“You should sleep here tonight.”
Unable to resist, Maomao stared at him like one would when they encountered a squashed rat by the road. Perhaps she should tell him now, that’ll get him to stop pestering her about sex at least. No, perhaps she should tell him after dinner. Suiren would scold her if the young master lost appetite all of a sudden.
“Don’t look at me like that! Who do you take me for?” He grumbled, lips pouting that reminded her distinctly of princess Ling li. “I just thought it’d be better if I could keep an eye on you.”
“I have to work tomorrow.”
“I’ll prepare a carriage for you.”
Maomao sighed, knowing he was as stubborn as she was. The way he stared intensely certainly meant he was resolved not to let her return for the night.
“Very well.”
In any case it’d be better if she could start planning on how to tell him.
—
“Good night, Maomao.”
“...good night, sir.” Maomao muttered. In the end, she hadn’t been able to tell him at all.
Staring at the man before her, she watched as his eyelashes fluttered with every breath he took, how his chest moved steadily, and how his heartbeat reverberated with the same rhythm as hers. The scar on his cheek, formed so many years ago, now a precious aspect of his that she couldn’t help but adore.
She had no doubt the man laying beside her would make a good father.
The kind of person who would offer his every attention and love toward his loved ones, the kind of person she had been lucky enough to love and be loved in return.
And most importantly, he would certainly be happy to be a father, he had dreamed of it, talked about the future as if it was a certainty just waiting to come true.
He would be happy.
Wouldn’t he?
Maomao forcefully swallowed the lump on her throat. She didn’t care much for children, nor did she ever dreamed of having one. She was curious about childbirth, and she wanted the placenta, but that had been her only reasoning. Curiosity . Moreover, she had assisted and even been at the forefront for such cases when a courtesan needed abortion, so she knew wasn’t above doing such things.
She imagined telling Jinshi, and if his reaction had been far from ideal; disappointment, anger, even regret perhaps, and had asked for an abortion, she knew she had the means and ability to do it.
She could do it.
But would she?
And would he ask her to do such things?
With the current political strife in the imperial palace, she knew it wasn’t impossible. In fact, it would’ve been the wisest choice of all. She wouldn't fault him for it.
She would resent him.
Gasping, Maomao got rid of herself from the unnecessary thoughts. It was no use pondering over such thoughts now when he still lay clueless beside her.
Tomorrow, then.
She’d tell him tomorrow.
With such resolve brewing in mind, Maomao closed her eyes and forced sleep to come. If she shuffled just a bit closer toward the warm body beside her, well, then no one would be the wiser.
Cries echoed around the room, one that belonged to a baby she realized belatedly.
As she opened her eyes, she was back in the shed as the woman was held years ago.
This time, she stood at the side.
She watched,
The woman on the bed restrained the baby’s hand,
Just as she had that night.
The knife held up high, simultaneously a flash of lightning struck down.
She could see the woman clearly now.
Obsidian eyes glared with pure hatred toward her child.
“–mao!”
“ Maomao! ”
Maomao jolted awake, it was the same dream–or perhaps worse, as the one she had yesterday. Her eyes looked around the room blearily, and she could see Jinshi beside her. His hands gripped her shoulder while his face marred with a look of concern. Seeing that she had woken up, his hand reached toward her face and stroked her cheeks softly, his thumbs lingered under her eyes as he wiped away the tears that formed. She didn’t even realize she had been crying.
“I’ll get you some water,” Jinshi muttered softly as he got off the bed.
Shaken up, Maomao couldn’t do anything but nod. Her hands reached to her face, wiping the sweat and tears away. Her hands were shaking, her throat felt terribly dry, and her heart was beating so profoundly she was worried even Jinshi could hear it.
Speaking off, the man had come back with a cup of water in hand. Maomao reached to take it and relished on the coolness it brought to her throat. She could feel Jinshi beside her, his hand stroking her hair gently and it brought a sense of calmness to her body and mind, familiar with the warm hands that though rough and calloused; were much soothing than any lullabies she had ever heard. Those hands would never dare nor would they ever be capable of hurting anyone that were dear to her, that much Maomao had learned about him.
“Did you have that nightmare again?” His hands took the cup from her but soon continued on its ministrations again.
Maomao nodded. He knew of her nightmares, though rare, this wasn’t the first time she had them, nor did she think it would ever be the last. Stroking her belly instinctively, Maomao thought if she should tell him now. Though there was still a chance that her baby wouldn’t be accepted so easily, she didn’t think Jinshi would do anything to cause harm to it. He was simply unlike that, Maomao was sure of it.
“Do you hate it that much?” A voice, Jinshi’s, questioned in the quiet room. It was so soft, Maomao almost missed it. Rather than that, there was something else to it, sounding almost fragile and frightened.
“What are you talking about?”
His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. Not a single sound was made as he sat there gaping at her like a fish. Maomao nearly lost patient, but it seemed he finally got the hint as he voiced out what had concerned him.
“You’re pregnant.” He said it not as a question, but as a fact. As obvious as the sun that rises in the east and sets in the west, this too, Jinshi was sure of.
Nothing but stillness resounded in the room. She could hear the frogs and cicadas outside. Jinshi didn’t say anything more, his head looking over a certain point beyond her gaze, she wasn’t sure what he was thinking about. In hindsight, she shouldn’t be surprised that he knew. He had once pranced around as a eunuch after all, and though a fake, he was still the one who handled the consorts’ personal affair, including and not limited to their moon cycle. Keeping tracks of them had probably been one of his jobs too.
He probably figured it out when I declined that liquor.
“Do you hate it that much?” He repeated, his gaze now staring at hers. Intense and terrified for an answer, she wasn’t sure if she knew what answer he expected from her.
“Do you?” She questioned instead. His eyes widened, seeming almost surprised, perplexed that she could even dare to utter such ridiculousness.
“ No! ” Jinshi exclaimed. “No, of course not! Never! But, if the baby isn’t what you wanted then–”
Maomao shook her head strongly at the suggestion that she could ever hate her child, their child. She took hold of his hands, grasping them between hers. “I’ve been planning to tell you, sir.” She finally admitted.
“Then why didn’t you?”
Why didn’t she? Had it truly been because of the political strife? She didn’t know what to say, how she should answer. Maomao started telling him of her nightmares instead, what she saw, and what she felt. Of the ghost that always lingered at the back of her mind.
When she was done, Jinshi had wrapped both his arms around her, and she had clutched his robes so tightly Suiren would no doubt question why it wrinkled so badly in the morning. Slowly, gently, Jinshi rocked them in a soothing motion, his hand stroking the crown of her head while his lips occasionally left fleeting kisses.
“Maomao,” He called again while she was on the verge of dozing off, his scent lulling her mind and his body far too warm, comfortable. “You’re gonna be an incredible mother.”
Her body jerked awake. He sounded sure, like a belief he had in his mind for years and years. Maomao hadn't even thought of it, what kind of mother she’d be. Yet he had said the words that she wasn’t even aware she needed to hear, words she desperately needed to be proven right. Words that she would do her damn best to make true.
“And I,” He continued. Lips descending on her temple, her cheeks, her nose, before finally settling on the crown of her head. “Will love that child no matter what.” Taking her hands, he grasped them tightly and brushed his lips against it.
“...even if our child further complicates your position?”
“At that point, I wouldn’t have cared. As long as I have you and our child beside me.” Jinshi said, resting his cheeks against her head. “Besides, I’ll just work extra hard to make sure none of that mess befalls us.”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, Maomao snuggled closer toward the warm, broad chest. He had said the words she had unknowingly needed to hear, soothing what had been the source of her tension and apprehension.
“I should start planning our wedding tomorrow,” Jinshi said excitedly. “Would you prefer more reds or golds on your wedding attire?”
“No, actually, I should start by visiting the strategi–” Before he could finish talking, Maomao covered his lips with the palm of her hands, putting a stop to whatever spiel he was going to start.
“Later, sleep now.”
“Right, of course.” Jinshi conceded. “Sleep well, Maomao.”
With the hand patting on her backside slowly, it wasn’t long before sleep pulled her under. Indeed, beside him, she managed to sleep well as the nightmares no longer appeared.