The morning sun over the sprawling Imperial Capital of Kageoka usually brought a bustling chaos that Lin found deeply comforting. The air was thick with the scent of dried sea salt, fermented cabbage, and the low, constant roar of bartering merchants. This chaotic sincerity felt real, honest, and blessedly far from the polished lies of the Inner Court.
Lin's small apothecary stall was tucked against a stone wall, a quiet island in the storm of the market. She was petite and easily overlooked, a quality she fiercely cultivated. Her robes were deliberately plain, faded dark cotton that blended into the grime and shadow. She wore no makeup, and her remarkable features were often obscured: her Dark Auburn hair was pulled back so tightly into a severe, thick braid that it barely touched her neck, and her unusual Dark Jade Green eyes were usually focused downward on her work.
Right now, she was meticulously sorting through a basket of common mountain herbs, checking each stem for minute imperfections.
Lin: (Muttering to herself) This batch of ginger root has too much mold near the base. It will ruin the anti-nausea tincture. Better to discard the whole thing than risk a spoiled batch. The merchants here might accept mediocrity, but my patients deserve clean work.
Thinking: _The simple reality of chemistry and botany is a safer world than the complicated lies of politics. Here, truth is measurable. No one here knows my true name is Yumi, or that my hands were trained for the brush, not the pestle. I must keep it that way._
She picked up her mortar, ready to start grinding, when the ordinary market sounds were abruptly crushed beneath the rhythmic, powerful CLOP-CLOP-CLOP of military horses. The silence that fell was thick and immediate, the kind that spoke of danger and absolute, undeniable authority.
An imposing procession of guards, clad in gleaming black obsidian armor, split the market crowd with unnerving ease. The armor caught the morning light, making them look less like men and more like terrifying, silent statues.
Leading them was the man who had become Kageoka's most fascinating legend: Izumi.
He was a political phenomenon, a low-born official who, through relentless merit and cold cunning, had risen to a position of staggering power at the Emperor's side. But that was not what silenced the crowds. It was his appearance.
Izumi pulled his horse to an abrupt stop just inches from Lin's small stall. His presence alone seemed to absorb all the light. He wore official robes of deep, almost black indigo, trimmed in rich gold brocade, signifying his highest rank. His features were flawless, perfectly sculpted, and almost too beautiful to be real. His hair was a magnificent cascade of Silvery-Black that contrasted sharply with his fair skin. And his eyes—those chillingly beautiful Amethyst Violet eyes—focused instantly and intently on Lin.
Thinking:_His beauty is a weapon. It is unsettling, excessive, and designed to distract and disarm. He looks like a demon from a fairy tale. I must not look up. I must not react._
Izumi: Lin, Apothecary of the outer district. You are summoned.
His voice was a deep baritone, resonating with effortless authority. It felt less like an order and more like an unavoidable decree.
His chief attendant, Juro, a large, stoic man with a scarred face, immediately dismounted and stepped toward her. Juro's armor clinked with finality.
Juro: Apothecary Lin, you are to close your establishment. You have been ordered to the Fuji Palace.
Lin finally looked up, letting her Dark Jade Green eyes meet Juro's. She let a moment of tense silence pass, showcasing her calm defiance.
Lin: Juro, I am a licensed professional who deals with honest illness and injury. I have no connection to the political dramas or the vanity complaints within the Kagami Gate. If a Consort has a sore throat, the Imperial Physicians are more than capable.
Izumi: (He dismounted, making the action look like a slow-motion study in grace, immediately causing the nearby merchants to gasp and avert their eyes.) This is not about a sore throat, Apothecary Lin. The issue is subtle. The physician who attended Royal Consort Zhi is currently suffering from convulsions and profound delirium. The court doctors are entirely stumped. They believe it is a fever, but they cannot cure it.
Lin: If it is a disease, I cannot help. I do not specialize in epidemics.
Izumi: I believe it is not a disease. I believe it is the work of a carefully administered neurotoxin. One that mimics a natural illness. A poison so clever that the court doctors—who only look for the obvious—cannot detect it.
Thinking: _A neurotoxin that mimics an illness. That is fascinating. That requires specialized, obscure knowledge. It is exactly the kind of puzzle I miss, and exactly the kind of trap I cannot afford to be near._
Lin: Your Imperial Physicians are highly trained. Why assume I, a common apothecary, possess superior knowledge?
Izumi: (He took a slow step closer, his eyes examining her with unnerving intensity, as if she were a complicated specimen) Your reputation for discerning the unlikely cause, for your knowledge of obscure regional herbs and their chemical properties, is unique. The court seeks visible causes; you seek invisible ones. And perhaps... they say you possess a palate that can identify any trace of compound. Is that true?
Lin stiffened. That detail was supposed to be a secret known only to a few, carefully curated contacts.
Lin: And if I choose to ignore this summons, Izumi? I find palace politics unsavory.
Izumi: (A cold, thin smile touched his lips, a smile that conveyed vast, unquestionable power) Then you would be forcibly escorted to a dungeon and tried for treason. If you comply, you will receive more gold than you could earn in a lifetime here, and I personally guarantee your safety within the Fuji Palace... provided you remain useful and, more importantly, obedient. I suspect we both know the Empress Dowager would not tolerate a common apothecary who resists the call of the Imperial family.
The veiled threat—the reference to her being "useful" and the implicit acknowledgement of the Empress Dowager's absolute power—was chilling. He knew more than he let on. He knew about her, Yumi, the hidden Imperial granddaughter.
Lin sighed, realizing her life of quiet peace was over. The excitement of the puzzle warred with the dread of the gilded cage.
Lin: (She reached under her counter and pulled out her leather satchel of tools.) Lead the way, Izumi. I will not be responsible for the death of a physician simply because your court is too ignorant to admit its limitations. But I require a working, private laboratory, and full access to the manor's supply chain.
Izumi: (His smile widened slightly, a flicker of genuine amusement reaching his eyes this time) Juro will ensure every request is met. I anticipated your acceptance, Apothecary Lin. Curiosity is a dangerous vice.
Lin watched as Juro cleared the path, his stern face showing no emotion. She adjusted her dark robes and secured her satchel, the soft CLINK of her metal tools a stark sound in the new silence.
She took one last look at her simple stall, the comfortable clutter of her safe life. That was over now. She was being swept away from the Kageoka market toward the shimmering, suffocating danger of the Kagami Gate, entering the world of the Fuji Palace under the intense, unnerving gaze of the beautiful official.
Thinking: _I will solve this mystery and I will leave. I will not be tempted by the challenge or distracted by his looks. I am a physician, not a pawn. I will not fail._
A Note to Our Readers
Thank you for joining us for Episode 1 of The Apothecary's Mask: Fuji Palace Mysteries! Our protagonist, the disguised Imperial apothecary Lin, has been forcefully brought into the gilded cage of Fuji Palace by the enigmatic Izumi.
The Mystery Question: Izumi is of low birth, yet he knew Lin's deep secret about her specialized knowledge and palate. How did a low-born official gain access to such intimate intelligence about an obscure apothecary in the outer district?