“Most people who ruin themselves beyond repair do it at work, while continually swearing they can keep going.”
That left Jinshi quiet for a moment, but his face darkened. “Isn’t that what an apothecary is for? To make them better?”
“Yes, sir. More or less. Shall I prepare an herbal bath for you?”
“No...” Jinshi held out his hand.
Huh?
Maomao stared at it, trying to decide if it had some significance. His hand was large, the fingers long. The nails were neatly clipped and filed.
The large hand stretched a little farther and placed itself on Maomao’s head.
Yikes!
He mussed her hair as if he were petting a dog. She tried to slap him away, but he dodged her nimbly.
“What the hell, sir?” she asked, patting her disheveled hair back into place. She hadn’t had a chance to bathe for several days, so it felt thick and greasy.
“I simply made myself better. So I wouldn’t reach my limit so soon.” Jinshi held his head high, as if to say he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“There must be better ways to do that, sir.”
“Is that an invitation to utilize these...ways?”
Neither of them said anything.
Maomao backed away a half step and crossed her arms in an X.
“Tell me about these ‘better’—”
“Okay, I’ve reported everything I have to report! If you’ll excuse me!” And then, with an artful dodge, Maomao ducked out of the room.
Outside, she let out a long breath. He’s been so indirect lately that I’d forgotten.
Jinshi’s true personality was to charge ahead. His methods could be brutal. If he had been showing restraint with Maomao, it was only because of the ridiculous way he’d decided to go about this.