The apothecary near the eastern ward was hidden behind a teahouse,
modest and quiet. It wasn't where Ju Xian had once dreamed of studying,
but it had a clean bench, rows of herbs, and a back room where no one
asked questions — perfect for those who came with coin and silence.
Ju Xian crushed leaves between mortar and pestle, her movements
practiced, her brows furrowed.
Taotao sat nearby, grumbling as she tightened the bandage around his
shoulder.
> "How many times are you going to poke that wound?"
"Until you stop whining," she snapped.
> "You really missed your calling as a battlefield nurse. No warmth. No
sympathy."
"If I had sympathy, I wouldn't be here with you."
But behind the sarcasm, her hands moved with care. Her fingers knew
exactly how to mix the bitter bark with the plum-root extract, how to press
the linen to stop swelling. She shouldn't know these things — not in such
detail.
She paused.
Stared at her own hands.
> "Why do I remember this?" she whispered.
Taotao looked at her quietly.
> "Because you've done it before."
She didn't speak. The silence felt heavier than before.
Then she stood and went to the shelf, retrieving a jar with a faded label. The
smell was sharp — pungent enough to curl the nose.
> "Drink it."
> "I'd rather drink spoiled vinegar."
"Close. Now drink."
He downed it in one dramatic gulp and immediately gagged.
> "You poisoned me."
"You'll live longer. Sadly."
As the bitter taste faded, so did his amusement.
> "You really don't remember anything? Not even him?"
"The bird?" she said. "The dream you had?"
"It wasn't a dream. It was a life."
Ju Xian shook her head.
> "No. I don't remember. But I feel something."
> "Then come with me. Just once. See him. If nothing stirs, I'll shut up
forever."
"You? Silent? I'd believe the emperor turned into a goose before that."
Taotao smiled faintly, but his tone turned serious.
> "The truth is bitter, Ju. But pretending none of it happened is worse."
Ju Xian glanced back at the jar of herbs, at her stained fingers, her heart
pounding with a rhythm she couldn't explain.
> "Alright," she whispered. "One visit."
Outside, the wind carried petals through the street.
The truth was coming.
And it tasted like medicine.