Chapter Text
Blaring music filled her ears, a consistent thumping through her eardrums that deafened her. She could hardly see more than a few feet ahead of her, her head swimming with the familiar flash of lights throughout the club. Someone was behind her, holding on to her waist as they danced together. Maomao didn’t know who they were and she didn’t care either. It was her first and last summer break as a medical student, and Maomao had gone through a rough dry period for the entire year. She might have overdone it with the drugs, but she’d missed the familiar high of ecstasy leading to her taking one pill too many.
“Can we take this somewhere else,” The person behind her was saying. She couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman- she didn’t care either way- since the voice sounded distorted by both the deafening music and her hallucinogenic state. Maomao spun in their arms, expecting to be greeted with a face. She frowned as she could only recognise a blur before her- sure, the features were there but her brain couldn’t quite piece them together.
This must be what the sperm-donor sees on the regular, Maomao thought bitterly as he came to mind. She wiggled out of her dance partner’s mind and stumbled through the club until she found a bathroom. She locked the door, a shiver running through her body as it was suddenly deprived of the wide variety of stimuli. Her hands gripped the sink as she forced her eyes up to look in the mirror. She looked a mess, her eyeliner smudged and hair messily falling out of its style. Her lips were dry and red from where she’d likely bitten them, her cheeks hollow and eyes dull. Finals tended to have that effect on her.
She ran a hand through her hair, wincing as it got caught in the tangled mess. Her dad would scold her for making such a mess of herself, but he’d never been able to make much of a difference when it came to her chosen vice.
That is, Maomao enjoyed drugs. Hard drugs too, if she could get her hands on them. Alcohol, weed and ecstasy were a given. She’d take shrooms on particularly rough nights. She also enjoyed opioids, but she exercised as much restraint as she could in avoiding those as she feared becoming a zombie of her own self. Not that she was much of a functional human being in the first place, but she did have her career to think about.
At twenty-eight years old, Maomao had already completed her undergraduates in pharmacology, and it was there she learned to be a responsible drug seeker. (The drug-seeking started long before that, but she’d almost ruined her life being so young and immature. She didn’t like to think about it much.)
Now, she decided to pursue medicine- No, Maomao did not want to steal narcotics from the hospital. She had simply always wanted to follow in the footsteps of the man who had raised her. It was her way of honouring her dearly departed uncle for sacrificing so much for her. First year had consisted of endless sleepless nights- not doing any drugs, but instead studying thousands of pages of her textbooks to get through the seemingly endless trove of knowledge that was the human body. She had a leg up given she was already a pharmacologist and knew how to compound her own drugs, but that advantage seemed to pale when it came to pretty much everything else there was to learn.
Nonetheless, she’d completed her first year. She’d aced pharmacology, of course, and scraped through in the rest. Maomao wasn’t a bad student, she just found it hard to focus on topics that didn’t immediately interest her. It would make for an interesting next four years as she tried to finish her degree, but she’d had nothing else to do. Her research into homemade turmeric antipyretics had been award winning in the Journal of Chinese Medicine and she’d been awarded a full scholarship to medical school as a result.
Her sisters, however, had insisted that she get sober and remain so in order not to waste the opportunity. So, she weaned herself off drugs and went cold turkey for a whole year. It was a miserable year without any of her vices to help her, but she’d proven to herself that she wasn’t actually an addict. (Okay, maybe Maomao was still smoking weed, but that didn’t count).
It was only right that she’d taken herself to her favourite night club, taken a few too many ecstasy pills and did a line of coke for good measure. Maomao loved the high, her brain seemed to swim in its own fluid, and her skin felt as warm as the hot coca her dad would make her when she was a kid. Unfortunately, even after a year sober, her tolerance remained high enough that she was feeling her high wear off. She watched her vision steady in real time and the pounding in her head became more of a nuisance than a thrill.
Maomao turned on the pipe, her hands catching enough water to splash the cool water on her face. Her nerves felt shocked at the contact, her brain was suddenly unable to handle even simple stimuli. Her usual scowl set in, and Maomao was able to recognise herself once more. Fun, Maomao scoffed.
She slipped out of the club, pressing her hands deep into her sockets to quell the headache that was getting stronger by the minute. She pulled out her phone, but her fingers trembled as she tried to put in her passcode.
“Shit,” Maomao cursed as she struggled to open the Uber app. Instead, she pressed her emergency button. She hated having to do it, but if she wanted to get home safely, this was her only option.
“Maomao?” A sleepy voice erupted from her phone speaker. Maomao’s hand shook as she brought it closer to her ear.
“Pairin,” Maomao said between chattering teeth, “I need a ride home.”
She heard rustling over the phone as Pairin likely pulled herself out of bed, “Maomao, it’s almost three in the morning!”
“I know,” Maomao lied, because she’d truthfully thought she’d only been partying for a few hours, “Pairin, I hate to ask but-”
“Oh, you silly girl,” Pairin interrupted her, “I’ll be there in ten minutes. You have your location on, right?”
“Always,” Maomao nodded. Ever since she’d once gotten lost and passed out from a near drug overdose, her sisters had insisted on this Find your friend app that they all used to keep tabs on the other. Her sisters had dangerous jobs- who knew when a client would try to kidnap them. Maomao, on the other hand, couldn’t be trusted not to kill herself experimenting with drugs.
Achoo! Maomao sneezed as a chilly breeze passed through. She was lucky it was summer, otherwise she’d have frozen to death in her current outfit. Maomao was proud of herself as she put it together. She wasn’t the curviest of women, so she relied on playing to her strengths. Her petiteness made short skirts and a skimpy top her go-to for a sultry club look. The fishnet stockings and garter only topped it off, in her opinion. She had done her hair in an intricate style, but it’d gotten messed up somewhere between her fourth drink and the bump of coke she’d taken off some random dude’s abs.
“Maomao!” Pairin yelled through the unwound window of her car, “Get in, already!”
Time seemed to be moving entirely too fast, but Maomao forced her legs to make their way to the passenger side. She threw herself into the seat rather ungracefully, her eyes finally closing as she pressed her head back into the headrest. Finally, she could relax without having to worry about some stranger kidnapping her in her vulnerable state.
“Hey,” Pairin’s voice was soft, “I thought you’d given up this life.”
Maomao kept her eyes closed, “I’m not an addict, Pairin. I went a whole year without even a sip of alcohol. I think I’m allowed a little reprieve.”
Pairin reached over to buckle the seatbelt Maomao had ignored. “Fine, but you didn’t have to go so hard.”
“It sort of just happened,” Maomao shrugged.
Sighing, Pairin put the car in drive and set off. Maomao enjoyed the silent car ride, allowing herself to drift into sleep knowing she was safe in her sister’s care. The silence was short-lived, Pairin had shaken her awake, allowing Maomao to see they had arrived at her apartment building.
“Maomao, maybe you should keep sober over the summer break too,” Pairin suggested, “I wouldn’t want you to have to drop out.”
She was referring to Maomao’s first failed attempt at university. Maomao had gone a little too hard with her experiments and she’d ended up on academic probation and eventually dropping out. Her sisters had nursed her back to health, and she’d been able to re-enrol the next academic year. She owed her sisters too many favours to count- that wasn’t the first time they’d picked her off her feet and set her back on the right path.
“It was just one night, for old time’s sake,” Maomao lied. In truth, she had a long list of experiments to run. Going to medical school had inspired many hypotheses that she needed to test. Combining her knowledge of drugs and her newly found appreciation for human physiology, Maomao intended to spend her summer off putting her body to the test. If she did as she intended, she wouldn’t be seen outside until the new semester began.
Pairin was giving her a concerned look, and Maomao had to slap her cheeks to remove the giddy grin that had taken over her face at the thought of her experiments. She leaned over to give her a sister a tight hug, a silent exchange of thanks, before she was stumbling out of the car and towards her building.
“Maomao!” Pairin shouted after her, “Your nose is bleeding!”
She swiped at her nose, seeing that it was indeed dripping bright red blood. That damn coke, she thought as she pinched her nose shut, awkwardly trying to find her footing.
Maomao woke up the next morning with her face down in the potted plant that sat in the foyer of her apartment. She grimaced as she lifted her face out, grateful it wasn’t a body of water that she’d passed out into. Her back ached from her slumped over position and her knees felt chafed underneath the harsh rug. Although slightly nauseous, Maomao’s head was clearer this morning as the drugs had mostly left her system. She moved over to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and taking a long swig to help reduce her hangover.
She grinned wickedly to herself as her headache eased. First order of business would be her hangover remedy. She excitedly hopped over to her herb cabinet, lovingly caressing her collection as she picked out what she needed. Liquorice root was always good, some ginger for nausea and finally some powdered goji berries. Maomao excitedly put the ingredients into her mortar and eagerly compounded them into a paste. She dipped a finger into the mixture, bringing it back up to her lips to sample. Her body shuddered at the bitterness, and she felt herself almost slip away into yesterday’s high.
She spread the mixture on to some toast, boiled some homemade hibiscus tea and excitedly ate her breakfast. There was only so much medicinal research Maomao could do at home, so she always enjoyed making home remedies where she could. Her first job out of undergrad had been for a large drug company in Beijing. Her coworkers had thought she was insane, but she’d quickly proven herself adept at taking Chinese traditional medicine and making evidence-based western medicines that people trusted and bought. They’d been sad to see her go, but they had sponsored the research that led to her entering medical school out of an interest in seeing how she could further the company’s goals.
Maomao used the company to her own benefit- she’d only gotten the job due to familial ties which she didn’t like to acknowledge- and was happy to leave the conglomerate to pursue a career like her father’s. She didn’t care much for making rich people richer, she wanted her medicines to be publicly available- something her turmeric antipyretic was not. Still, she wasn’t self-sacrificial like her father. She needed to make money as what she’d made working in pharmaceutical development would eventually run out, but she did want to make a difference in the lives of the less fortunate. That had been her once, a rather unfortunate child.
Maomao’s grin fell off her face as she remembered her childhood. A little girl abandoned in a whorehouse, relying on the other girls to care for her. Her adoptive father had been her salvation; he’d held her hand with a calming smile on his face as he told the Madam of the brothel that he would have no trouble taking her off their hands. He was her uncle, he said, and Maomao found herself receiving an education that she would never have if she had stayed in the brothel. Her dad taught her about both traditional and western medicine, and she found herself falling in love with the scientific method.
She was reading science journal articles when she should have been reading about fairytales. Instead of watching dramas on television, she’d watch true crime documentaries where she found herself intrigued by the drugs and poisons that were often used. If her adoptive father hadn’t come for her, she’d likely have become an escort like her sisters. She didn’t scorn their lifestyle- on the contrary, they’d made enough money to support her once her father passed away. She was lucky that her father had allowed her to keep in contact with them for all those years given that they took over raising her without hesitation.
She took a deep breath as she felt her throat tighten at the memory of her father’s passing. Life had seemed to blur for her, and she’d barely finished high school due to the depression that she fell into. If her sister, Joka, wasn’t such an intellectual, Maomao would have never made it to college. Maomao owed her good fortune in life to her father and three sisters. Without them, her pitiful life would have likely been cut short long ago.
Maomao shook her head. Whenever these feelings took her over, she needed an experiment to settle her mind. There was no point in wallowing in self-pity. It was what made her different from other drug-users. She didn’t use them to feel sorry for herself, she relished the experience and made notes for enhancing them in the future.
Well then, Maomao thought, Let’s get to work.
Maomao sat on the floor of her living room, the coffee table currently being used as her workbench. In front of her, the bunsen burner heated up her newly made mixture. Maomao had never made meth from scratch, but she’d lost contact with her last dealer during her time off from the underground drug scene. Maybe the poor guy had gotten killed or overdosed, but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. Anyway, she was cooking her own meth because she needed to test its effect on wakefulness and concentration. In the past, she avoided the drug because she wasn’t a fan of its users unique dental work, but she’d been surprised by how many of her classmates used methamphetamines to study during finals. She’d begrudgingly declined while studying in the library one night because she valued her promise to her sisters. Now, she wanted to test if she could use her rather impure and crudely made meth to increase her own focus. She’d also have to ensure its safety after all, before she sold it to her classmates next semester.
Meimei would scold her if she knew that her little sister planned to sell drugs at school. But Maomao didn’t see the difference between selling drugs to people as a representative of a conglomerate versus her own homemade contraptions. At the end of the day, she wouldn’t sell anything that would cause harm, and she used the same methods to test her drugs as she did when she worked in a proper lab.
Anyway, Maomao had downloaded enough new pharmacology journal articles as she could find. Her timer sat beside her, ready to see how long it would take for her to read then reproduce the findings in her little makeshift lab. She cackled to herself as she purified the liquid, moving on to refine it into the white crystals that were known colloquially as crystal meth.
She’d start with intravenous exposure, as that route of administration would yield the purest of results. She’d have to wait for the drug to completely leave her system and since the half-life was around twelve hours, Maomao would space out her experiments by at least forty-eight hours.
She grinned to herself as she separated the crystals into their own vials, labelling them accurately and putting the rest to the side. Maomao threw away her gloves and cleaned off her workspace, replacing her chemistry set with her medical one. She unwrapped a syringe and attached a needle before pulling up normal saline. She injected the fluid into her remaining vial and shook. Her excitement was pouring over as she watched the crystals dissolve into a clear liquid. She returned her needle to the vial, pulling up the drug into the syringe.
Now, her favourite part. Maomao tied the tourniquet to her left arm, using her free hand to slap her veins until they filled enough to be visible. Wiping an alcohol pad over her skin, she took the needle to the biggest vein, squealing in joy as blood flowed back into the syringe. Her teeth caught the end of the tourniquet, pulling it off before she advanced the syringe, the drug now entering her system.
“Ha, Ha,” Maomao chuckled as she felt the drug course through her, her pupils dilating to take in her surroundings more accurately. Her heart picked up, delivering blood more efficiently to her tissues. Her cheeks flushed with warmth and the temperature in the room seemed to get higher by the second.
Maomao removed the needle from her skin, pressing a clean gauze to the area. Her bones seemed to vibrate, her hands shaking as they itched to just do something. She’d take notes later; it was time to read! Once her arm stopped bleeding, Maomao picked up her tablet to pour through the articles. Her notebook was open beside her as she took down the most salient points and planned how she might recreate the articles’ experiments. She continued to mutter to herself, brain moving at the speed of a train as she scribbled beside her. She noticed that there was water dripping down her arms and onto her paper, ruining her notes. Maomao frowned, looking up to see if there was a leak in the ceiling before realizing she was simply drenched in her own sweat.
Not good, Maomao thought just as her gut coiled uncomfortably. She was suddenly doubled over, her stomach expelling its contents onto her workspace before she could even make an attempt for the bathroom.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone so hard last night, Maomao thought to herself as she continued to heave. At the same time, her gut continued to rumble as if she’d need to begin releasing from the other end. That got her to her feet, fumbling her way through the bathroom as she wiped the vomit from her mouth.
Listen, experimenting with drugs took risks. She was well aware of that by now, but maybe she shouldn’t have tried meth intravenously for the first time. As she emptied her bowels over the next half an hour, she also noted that the dose would need to be heavily adjusted.
The sweating didn’t stop either, Maomao noticed as she made her back into her now vomit-stained living room. She grimaced at how her notes had been messed up, but she’d be able to recreate them once her head settled down. Instead of heightening her focus like it did initially, her thoughts started to jumble into one. Also, not good.
Maomao almost fell as she tried to sit on the couch, losing her control over her body. Suddenly, her muscles felt too weak to move. Perhaps the constant vibrating had tired them out. Nothing she wasn’t used to, but she hadn’t meant to overdose on her first try. Every drug really is different, Maomao scolded herself. She had a tendency towards thinking her overall drug resistance would carry over when she tried something new. Unfortunately, it seemed that her tolerance for stimulants was not saving her this time.
A heavy pressure was applied to her chest, seemingly pinning her to the couch. Maomao’s eyes widened as the skin over her left arm began to tingle. No, no, no, Maomao panicked as she recognised the tell-tale signs.
Her right hand managed to pick up her phone, tapping furiously at the screen as she sent out her SOS to her sisters. She didn’t have much time to feel guilty when she could feel her heart crushing beneath her ribcage. This wasn’t her first overdose, and probably wouldn’t be her last, but she had vowed not to involve her sisters if she could. But truthfully, there was no one else to save Maomao from herself.
She breathed heavily, unable to move any further as her body succumbed. Well, if she died here tonight, at least she’d go out the way she always wanted. She only wished she could have made a little money off her meth before dying from it.
-
When she awoke, she was greeted with the blinding white lights that she’d only ever seen in a hospital. Just her luck.
Maomao looked around, seeing that she was indeed hospitalised. Her right hand had been restrained to the rails of the bed, and her left hand was busy being used to infuse intravenous fluids. She recognised herself to be in the emergency room, which meant she hadn’t been out for too long. It also meant she’d managed to avoid an actual heart attack since she wasn’t in the intensive care unit. The chest pain might have just been coronary vasospasm, Maomao made a mental note. Or maybe an arrhythmia. She figured she’d find out soon.
“Maomao!” Meimei cried as she pushed open the curtain separating her from the rest of the emergency room. Her sister had on heavy makeup, and she’d covered her outfit with a large trench coat. It meant she was probably working tonight, and Maomao had interrupted her time with a client.
“Hey,” Maomao said weakly, her throat feeling dry. She wondered if that was from the meth or if she’d been intubated on her way to the hospital. More questions she’d save for the doctor.
“You just don’t listen,” She heard Joka’s voice before the older woman appeared from behind the curtain as well. She didn’t have the same sad look that Meimei did, but her eyes shone with silent worry, “You promised not to do anymore drugs!”
“Shh!” Maomao looked around in panic, “You’re gonna get me in trouble!”
“You are already in trouble,” Joka countered with a scowl, “We found you half-dead in your apartment not breathing! We had to do CPR until the ambulance arrived!”
That serious, Maomao thought. It was a good thing she had the little sense left to send an SOS. “Where’s Pairin?”
Meimei continued to sob, “She had gone to handle your registration, but I found her out back having a smoke. Maomao, we all thought we’d lost you forever.”
Maomao frowned, her eyes lowering as she tried to avoid the guilt that looking at them brought, “I didn’t mean to. It was just an experiment gone wrong.”
“No,” Joka almost roared, “This is the last time.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes snapped back to her sister’s furious ones, “I’m a scientist, Joka. This is how I make my money.”
“If you don’t end up killing yourself,” Joka started, “You’re going to end up in prison. You’re lucky the paramedics didn’t ask any questions about what they saw in your apartment. But you might not be so lucky next time.”
Maomao pulled herself up into a seated position despite the single restraint, grateful her body felt more like its usual self. The medics must have gone all out in their resuscitation. She felt almost back to normal. “I’m sorry for worrying you all, but I’m quite okay.”
“Maomao!” Meimei cried, her eyes red. “We’ve already decided.”
“Decided what?” Maomao’s heart wanted to race, but whatever medicine they’d given her prevented it from getting too fast.
“We called your father,” Joka said firmly, “He’ll handle this from now.”
Maomao bared her teeth, “My father is dead.”
“The sperm donor,” Joke clarified, “You won’t listen to us, so we had to take drastic measures.”
She seethed at the mention of that man, horrified that her sisters could betray her. Anything else would have been forgivable. But to call that man during such a vulnerable moment? She might never forgive them.
Pairin chose to enter the cubicle at that moment, her face also tear-streaked. “Lakan has agreed to sponsor you in an institution.”
Institution! Maomao huffed, “I’m not an addict!”
“It’s already been decided with the doctors,” Pairin pointed to the soft restraint on her right arm, “Once you’re medically cleared, the psychiatrist will take over your management.”
Maomao pulled at the restraint, suddenly upset at its existence, “You can’t admit me against my will!”
“As long as your actions border on suicidal,” Meimei sniffed, “We can.”
Later, when the psychiatrist had come along to ask her a long series of questions that started with her childhood and ended at this most recent overdose, it turned out that they could indeed admit her against her will. Apparently telling them that she intended to repeat this particular experiment at least another five times until she perfected it indicated that she was a danger to herself and needed serious deprogramming. She’d informed the psychiatrist that she was a medical student and wanted access to her records for learning purposes. The man had looked at her curiously- she thought his name was Dr. Li- but had obliged to give her some notes to distract herself.
Maomao read through with a scowl as she waited to be released from the emergency room. While her labs had normalised in the last twelve hours, she’d need another twelve hours of cardiac monitoring before discharge. After, she figured she’d be dragged kicking and screaming to the psych ward, but she’d handle that when she got there.
These quacks, Maomao scoffed as she read their inaccurate diagnoses. She’d expected to be labelled with a substance use disorder but she was surprised that they’d thought to tack on other diagnoses as possibilities, listing unstable childhood and self-harm as important problems to address.
The next morning, she was medically cleared, but still woefully restrained to the bed. A sign hung behind the curtain, labelling her a headcase and prevented anyone from listening to her when she demanded to be untied. By afternoon, Maomao had gotten so bored that she had begun to flex every muscle in her body and tried to recall the name of said muscle along with its origin and insertion point. She didn’t want to forget what she’d painstakingly learned over the last year.
“My dear little sister,” A slimy voice said. Maomao opened her eyes to an ugly sight.
“Go away,” Maomao hissed, again struggling with her restraints.
Lahan, her annoying cousin, was standing beside her bed with a stupid but pitiful expression. “I’ve come to pick you up, dear sister.”
“I’m not your sister,” Maomao’s scowl grew, “And I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Our honoured father sent me to pick you up,” Lahan continued as if she didn’t just ask him to leave, “Come now, sister. The doctor said you could walk out with dignity as long as you don’t put up a fight.”
She thought about her skinny body trying to escape hospital security and decided against it. She also didn’t want anyone from the hospital to one day recognise her when she rotated through these same walls. This wasn’t how she intended to start her medical career.
Maomao remained calm as the nurse released her restraints. She dressed herself grudgingly in the expensive clothes Lahan had bought her, and she restrained herself from stomping on the annoying man’s toes as the security escorted her to the car. She remained quiet as the vehicle set off, Lahan sitting awkwardly in the backseat with her as the Kan family driver was behind the wheel.
“Where are you taking me?” Maomao said, keeping her gaze fixed out the window. She knew better than to think they’d just take her home.
“It’s a lovely place,” Lahan started excitedly, “I vetted it completely before bringing it to father. They specialise in a variety of mental disorders, and their drug rehabilitation program is number one in the country.”
She continued to avoid his gaze. Undoubtedly, he was grinning over some complex equation that only made sense to him. “I’m not an addict.”
“Oh, uh,” Lahan stuttered as if this was more uncomfortable for him than her, “Miss Pairin had said that this was your third dose overdose requiring hospitalization.”
She finally turned to face him so he could see her disgust, “My sisters overreacted the first two times. I was perfectly fine.”
“And this time?” Lahan raised a brow.
Her eyes lowered in shame, “I simply miscalculated my doses.”
“I admire your passion,” Lahan said honestly, “Everyone in the Kan family has it, and yours is no less for it. We had hoped you’d stay with the company where you could safely practice your, uh, interests.”
“It was fun for a while,” Maomao admitted, remembering her time in Kan Industries fondly. “But I didn’t want my work attached to that man.”
“Your father, you mean,” Lahan said pointedly, causing her scowl to return.
“He is not my father,” Maomao said between clenched teeth, “Just because he shot his load into a prostitute once twenty-eight years ago, does not make him my father.”
Her cousin recoiled at her vulgarity. “Maomao, he has always wanted to be in your life from the minute he found out about you.”
“Really?” Maomao scoffed, breaking into a broken laugh, “He should have thought of that before leaving that poor woman with a kid she didn’t want.”
She hated this topic, but she couldn’t resist lashing out at Lahan. She hadn’t grown up with a mother- No, instead the woman who had her was a fool who believed a careless rich kid would come back for her and save her from her life as a whore. Instead of aborting her, that woman had given birth to an unwanted child who neither saved nor loved her. Maomao was taken care of by the other girls in the brothel while that woman had wasted away from an sexually transmitted infection she’d started showing signs of shortly after Maomao’s birth. She remembered vaguely how the woman had held on to the hope that he’d come back for her, yet she’d only ever caused Maomao pain. She held up her hand, eyes fixing at her deformed little finger, the proof of her mother’s love for her.
Luomen had found her. The old Madam apparently managed to get into contact with him and asked him to take over her care. That was the happiest her childhood had been, and she’d been able to forget about both that woman and the man who had cursed her into existence.
When Luomen died, Lakan found her. He swore that he never knew she existed- that when he’d returned to the brothel, that woman had already died. He’d never been told about a daughter. Maomao lambasted him at Luomen’s funeral for daring to show up, when they’d lived in relative poverty for all those years. Yes, she had always known that the head of Kan Industries had sired her. It wasn’t a secret that Luomen kept from her. But she hated her sperm donor more than she hated the woman. She thought him overly careless and lacking empathy for anyone who wasn’t himself. He was a ruthless strategist who screwed over his business partners and led a coup to become the head of the family business. He didn’t care for others, and he’d hike up the prices of his pharmaceutical products to the detriment of patients.
After undergrad, she’d been desperate for a job. She had grudgingly accepted working for the conglomerate for survival reasons only. But once she’d made a name for herself and earned enough money, she’d left to pursue the life that Luomen wanted for her. There was a reason they were so poor despite her dad’s profession. He was more of a monk than a physician, and he’d mostly treat others free of cost at his little clinic. Maomao never resented him for it, but she had always wished he had left something for her when he died. If he had, then she wouldn’t have had to go running to her sperm donor for assistance through college and then later for a job.
Now, that man would lock her up in a psychiatric ward. He’d probably profess he was doing it out of concern for her, but a bitter part of her wondered if his public relations manager was keeping tabs on her and warned him of what she could do to his reputation if people found out he had an addict for a daughter.
“As soon as they determine I have the capacity, I will be leaving,” Maomao said resolutely.
Lahan merely smiled, “Of course, sister. We intend to have you out in time for the next semester.”
-
The only thing Maomao had of her own was her body. Her traitorous sisters hadn’t even packed her a bag of her favourite books or herbs to keep her company. They hadn’t even slipped her a gram of weed to hold her during this difficult time. Instead, she had one large suitcase of things decidedly not hers that Lahan had brought for her. She ignored the taller man as he carried it on her behalf as they were escorted to the enormous estate where she’d been kidnapped to.
The security guards were dressed rather lavishly, suits and ties, but Maomao could see they were strapped from her position. She tried to ignore the urge to steal a firearm and maybe get some target practice in. She’d never shot a gun, but she fantasized about making gun powder enough that she wouldn’t mind having a gun to test it with.
“Dear sister, keep up,” Lahan muttered. Maomao snapped out of her haze, she tended to get lost when she thought of compounding chemicals. If she kept it up, the quack doctors would never release her.
They ended up in a golf cart to carry them the rest of the way. Maomao grimaced as she noticed the many layers of security and gates that they needed to pass through before they arrived at the main building. It meant she’d have a hard time escaping.
The building looked more like a palace than a hospital, but she didn’t miss the way the windows were notably grilled shut. She found herself wondering what kind of nutjobs she’d meet here. Maybe some of them would have some good weed on them…
“Welcome!” A man in a lab coat greeted them as they approached the main doors. She vaguely remembered him as the doctor from the hospital, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember his name.
“Thank you for taking my dear sister into your care,” Lahan said politely.
“I’m not his sister,” Maomao scowled, accidentally stepping on his toes as she got out of the cart.
“Kan Maomao,” The doctor read off his clipboard, “I’ll show you around.”
Maomao begrudgingly followed him. She wondered if this place was stocked with antipsychotics and sedatives that she’d be able to swipe- probably, that was the only way to manage a bunch of nutcases. Maomao wouldn’t need any of those, but maybe she could fake symptoms just to get a high.
“Maomao,” Lahan said carefully. Oh, she’d stopped following the doctor and was stuck in her dream world again. Coughing, she composed herself and continued the tour. The foyer was like most hospitals, a large desk manned by a few nurses and administrators. They all cheerily introduced themselves.
“Welcome, Maomao,” The first one said, “I’m Nurse Yinghua, but you can just call me Yinghua.”
Maomao forced a smile. In these situations, it was best to befriend the staff if you wanted to get special treatment. “Nice to meet you.”
Yinghua, a bubbly young woman who wore bright orange scrubs, gestured to the other nurses, “This is Ailan and Guiyuan. We work in inpatient services.”
The two other women waved excitedly at her. Maomao had to hold back her cringe and return the gesture. Focus, Maomao. They can smuggle you drugs if you make friends.
Behind the desk, the oldest looking woman levelled a polite smile at her as she typed furiously at the computer. “Kan Maomao?”
She nodded, “That’s me.”
The woman looked up at her with strict eyes. Maomao made a note to mess with this one. “My name is Hongniang. I’m the charge nurse for inpatient services.”
After the awkward greetings at the front desk, Maomao was ushered on to the tour with Yinghua now as her guide. The doctor, Maomao still couldn’t remember his name, had excused himself to see a patient- or something like that, she didn’t really pay much attention to him. Yinghua escorted her and Lahan through the palace-hospital. They were shown the many common areas which included recreational activities, a library, creative spaces and a room for watching television. Maomao made note of the current patients who paid little attention to the new faces passing by.
Each patient had their own room, but the bathrooms were communal for safety reasons. Maomao was surprised at how large her room was- it was certainly bigger than her own apartment. It had a large bed in the centre and a bare nightstand with no drawers. No hangers in the closet. The curtain rods were modified to snap if too much weight was applied. She scoffed at all the safety measures that wouldn’t apply to her.
“This is your room, Maomao,” Yinghua said with too much excitement, as if she weren’t dealing with a potential nutjob. Maomao figured that others had to enjoy their profession as much as she did. She would one day be a doctor, and although she had no interest in psychiatry, she’d still have to pass through as a student. She resolved to make this a learning moment.
“I’ll come to visit you soon, little sister,” Lahan was saying as he made his way to the door, “And once father returns from overseas, he’ll definitely come along.”
“Please don’t,” Maomao replied dryly as she opened her suitcase to unpack, paying no attention to him as he left.
“Let me help you,” Yinghua knelt beside her. Maomao appreciated the help, and the other woman knew to remain silent as they folded her clothes into the drawers of the dresser.
Yinghua pulled out a long scarf, “Woops! Gonna have to confiscate this one.”
Ah, Maomao thought. They checked all their belongings for anything they could use to hurt themselves. It was a good thing then that her sisters chose not stache any drugs on her.
“Please, feel free to have anything you like,” Maomao shrugged, “I think that freak bought a whole new wardrobe.”
“Freak? You mean your brother?” Yinghua tilted her head in confusion.
“My sperm donor,” Maomao clarified, “But the man calling himself my brother is also a freak.”
Yinghua merely hummed. Most people looked at Maomao like she was crazy for how she referred to her blood relations, but maybe the psychiatric nurse was used to unconventional families.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Yinghua exclaimed when they’d finished unpacking. She slipped a bracelet out of her scrub tops’ pocket and moved to secure it around Maomao’s wrist. She frowned at the tag, labelling her with her name, but didn’t protest.
“Your doctor will see you every day,” Yinghua was explaining, “Usually just a check in, every other day you get the chance to see the psychologist if you wish.”
“I don’t wish,” Maomao nodded resolutely but let the nurse continue.
“Otherwise, most of your time here is spent with occupational therapy! For the drug rehabilitation program, there’s a special therapist who’ll monitor your progress closely with Dr.Li.”
Maomao hated the thought. The only thing she wanted to spend her time doing was mixing medicines, and she doubted they’d let her do that. A thought struck her, “Yinghua?”
“Yes, Maomao?”
“I have terrible migraines,” Maomao lied, “Does the hospital have any painkillers?”
To her surprise, Yinghua burst into a laughing fit, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ask for narcotics. Every substance user we have usually asks at the first doctor’s visit, but you only made it to the tour.”
Maomao frowned, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. She wasn’t an addict, but the people here thought she was. “I was being serious.”
“Oh, Maomao,” Yinghua patted her shoulder affectionately, “I’ll ask the doctor to put in an order for Tylenol for you.”
Tylenol, Maomao shivered. That was hardly a drug at all unless you were a toddler suffering from a fever. She decided not to ask again. Maybe this nurse wouldn’t be the one to buy her weed after all. She followed Yinghua to the common area where the other patients were dispersed in their favourite activities.
“Oh, we have a new lady in waiting!” Maomao heard come from the centre of the room. There was a long table where a few of the patients sat playing cards. At the head of the table sat a celestial maiden, a woman with striking features, long luscious hair flowing down her back- wait, that voice was smooth as honey, but it was rather masculine. She squinted at the woman and-Oh! It was a man.
Yinghua giggled, “Hello to you too, Jinshi. This is Maomao, a new patient, not lady in waiting.”
The pretty man continued to smile, his eyes sparkling as he regarded the nurse affectionately, “Will she be joining you as a servant girl or is she the new consort for the emperor?”
Maomao’s hands moved to cover her face. He was one of the nutjobs.
“No, Jinshi,” Yinghua corrected him, “We’re in a hospital, remember?”
The man- Jinshi- looked around, and Maomao noticed the way confusion set in as his surroundings defied what he was seeing in his head. He seemed to deflate as he remembered, dropping his cards as he retreated into himself. Maomao felt sorry for him- it must be hard not being able to trust your brain.
She took the empty seat beside him, pushing his cards back to him. “How about a game?”
Jinshi’s eyes snapped to her before darting around the room, “Oh- um, that’s a little forward of you.”
“To play cards?” Maomao raised a brow. It was then she realised that there were only men at this table.
“Well, you’re a lady,” Jinshi sputtered, “I mean- I’m okay with it if you are!”
Oh, brother. “I am. Now deal the cards.”
Jinshi nervously shuffled the cards, before placing only two cards before her and three before himself. Maomao watched him place the remaining deck of cards on the floor- and well, she was entirely confused.
“What are we playing?” She hazarded a question. The look on Jinshi’s face told her he didn’t know either.
“Uh,” He stuttered, his brows knitting in concentration as he seemed to try to make order of what must be a very chaotic mind. “Never mind, I have to go!”
The other occupants of the table, all men, seemed to swoon and moan at his hurried exit. “Master Jinshi!” One cried as the celestial maiden stumbled out of his chair and made his way for the exit. Was this his group of admirers? Maybe he didn’t know how to handle a simple conversation with a woman.
She watched Jinshi sprint out of the common area, a nurse following briskly behind him as he disappeared around a corner. Maomao shrugged. She turned to the men at the table who seemed deflated at their idol’s exit. She might be the only sane person here.
“Maomao,” Yinghua was saying, a hand on her shoulder, “It might be best to sit with another group.”
“Why?” Maomao didn’t really care where she sat but she didn’t want her every action to be controlled.
“Well,” Yinghua lowered her voice as Maomao stood from the chair and followed her away from the table, “Most times our patients with similar conditions tend to congregate. Not a bad thing, but not everyone is able to understand exactly what they’re going through.”
“Right,” Maomao nodded, “So, I was seated with the psychos.”
“Maomao!” Yinghua scolded her, “We don’t use derogatory language towards other patients!”
“Sorry,” Maomao did feel remorseful. She pitied the mentally ill, truly, but she wasn’t a fan of listening to delusional ranting, “Fine, so where are the other, uh, substance users?”
“I’m afraid it’s not my place to share other patients’ diagnoses unless they want to share that themselves,” Yinghua said apologetically. “But feel free to chat to anyone you see in the common area.”
Maomao ended up next a rather young girl, she’d said she was twenty-one and had excitedly introduced herself as Xiaolan, then proceeded to tell her everything she knew about the hospital. Maomao didn’t mind a little gossip at such a boring place.
After about an hour of hearing about other people’s breakdowns, Maomao finally asked her, “So, what are you in for?”
Xiaolan squealed, “Me? I’m in here by mistake. I was admitted here because I was going to expose someone’s criminal activity.”
Maomao nodded slowly, “Really? What were they up to?”
Xiaolan shuddered beside her, suddenly making a zipping motion over her lips and remaining silent. Maomao sighed. She really was the only normal one here.
“Alright,” Maomao sighed, “I was also put in here by mistake.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to brighten at the possibility that Maomao had believed her, “Are they also criminals?”
Maomao shook her head before pausing. Technically prostitution was still illegal so maybe her sisters did count as criminals. Maomao, too, given how many drugs she’d consumed, produced and sold on the black market. “No. I enjoy taking drugs as part of my job and my sisters freaked out and admitted me here.”
“Drugs?” Xiaolan looked scared, “Aren’t those dangerous?”
Maomao patted her head affectionately, “Only if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
The rest of the day went on rather boringly. Things only got interesting when she finally had her session with the doctor. The same man from the hospital, Dr.Li- he had to reintroduce himself for her to remember.
“So, Maomao,” Dr. Li was saying, “You don’t think you belong here.”
“I don’t,” Maomao insisted. “I read your notes in the hospital. Even if you think I’m an addict, I managed to complete my first year of medical school without doing any drugs. That must count for something.”
Dr. Li flipped through his notes, “You said you smoked marijuana throughout the year-”
“That doesn’t count,” Maomao waved a hand in dismissal. She didn’t remember admitting to that, but weed wasn’t a big deal.
“Maomao,” Dr. Li said sternly, “You are aware that even marijuana is strictly prohibited in China.”
She shrugged, “It’s a stupid rule. Plus, I’m a scientist. I need access to all substances in order to make scientific breakthroughs.”
The doctor scribbled something in his notes. Maomao frowned.
“I read your paper on the potential of hallucinogens in treating depression,” Dr. Li changed the subject, “I was very impressed to find out that it was written by an undergraduate student.”
Maomao beamed with pride. She’d spent a weekend high on shrooms and was inspired to study its effects on neurotransmitters like serotonin. It was easy to convince her professor to co-author the paper and get access to the university’s resources. Through rodent models, she had demonstrated that hallucinogens may be helpful in stimulating serotonin receptors that could be used to treat a whole host of mood disorders. She hadn’t had as much luck getting human subjects, particularly herself, but she’d hoped one day to continue her research once she established herself as a medical researcher.
She’d just have to get through medical school first, and to do that she needed these quacks to discharge her. “So, you know I’m your peer in the field.”
Dr. Li laughed, “Sure, Maomao. But I’m afraid that your behaviours are too parasuicidal to allow you near any controlled substances.”
“It’s never been a concern before,” Maomao muttered. Kan Industries had been more than happy to let her play with their drugs, and it was where Maomao got to try most of the drugs harder to get in China.
“It is now,” Dr. Li said firmly, “For the sake of your future, Maomao, we need to get this disorder under control.”
“It’s not a disorder!” Maomao yelled, her hands slamming on the table. Crap, she’d lost her cool. “I mean…I’m not an addict.”
The doctor looked at her with pity, “I wanted to talk about why you enjoy exploring mind-altering substances.”
Maomao folded her arms over her chest in defiance, “You already know. I’m a scientist.”
“It has nothing to do with your upbringing?” Dr. Li tried to prompt her.
“Nope,” Maomao said simply.
“Were you exposed to drug use as a child?” He asked.
She shrugged, “As you know, I grew up in a brothel. Of course, I was. I’m nothing like those brutes who rely on opium to make it through the day.”
Dr. Li wrote a few more lines. “When did you first try a drug? Any drug?”
“I think I was raised drinking alcohol, so I can’t remember,” Maomao smiled proudly. While alcohol was life-ruining for others, it was like juice for her.
The doctor’s face fell, “Right. What came after that?”
She thought about it for a moment, “Cigarettes when I was twelve. I hated how they tasted but it was all I could get my hands on. When I was around fourteen, I switched to cannabis and gave cigarettes up. Nasty little things, aren’t they?”
“Right,” The doctor muttered, “What do you like about cannabis?”
She raised a brow, “Have you never smoked, doctor?”
He flushed, “Well- I’m asking you!’
“I think you already know,” Maomao grinned triumphantly. “Anyway, cocaine is only good at parties, and I try to stay away from opioids- because I’m not an addict.”
“And your homemade contraptions?”
She was blushing now, “Well, there’s just something so special about my recipes. But I test them in controlled settings.”
Dr. Li jotted down what she said before flipping through his notes, “What about your first overdose? I see you were only sixteen.”
The grin disappeared from her face. “That wasn’t my fault.”
“What happened?”
Maomao’s lips pursed in annoyance. “My father had died. I was grieving.”
The doctor’s eyes softened, “Maomao, was it intentional?”
She turned her head away, coughing uncomfortably, “It was some bad weed, that’s all.”
He seemed to take the hint and moved on from that topic. She remained uninterested as he continued to ask her mundane questions. Yes, she sometimes felt sad. No, she didn’t have any plans to kill herself. Maybe, she wanted to kill her sperm donor but had no plans at the moment. No, she didn’t hear voices. Yes, she’d felt apathetic and had anhedonia when she was sober. Yes, she struggled to sleep during the last year. No, she didn’t have much of an appetite.
“I think I’ll prescribe something for those feelings,” The doctor said at the end of their session. She frowned when he’d allowed her to read his prescription.
“I don’t need antidepressants. Didn’t you read my article? Shrooms would work better.”
He gave her a tight smile, “We’ll check in soon, Maomao. In the meanwhile, maybe you’d feel more productive if you did some studying.”
“No, thanks,” Maomao dismissed him as they left the examination room, “I’ve had my fill of embryology and the likes for now.”
That night Maomao reluctantly accepted her pills from Yinghua who checked under her tongue after to ensure she swallowed them. It was a little humiliating, but as long as the doctor kept writing that she was a suicide risk then she’d never be let out. She’d simply wait the six weeks that antidepressants required to kick in, then she’d pretend to be perfectly healed and no longer interested in recreational drug use. Six weeks would be a long time, but it’d pass.
Before she could fall asleep, she’d heard a commotion outside. She slid out of bed to check it out. When she opened the door, she was greeted with the sight of the celestial maiden pinned to the floor by the buff men dressed in white scrubs. He was on his stomach, his head raised with pleading eyes as he looked directly at her.
“He’s coming for you!” Jinshi screamed. She looked around, wondering if he was speaking to someone else, but saw that she was the only other person in this direction.
“What are you talking about?” Maomao asked him as she stepped out the door. She only got to take a few steps towards him before one of the orderlies put out an arm to stop her.
Tears streamed down Jinshi’s face, his features distorted as he cried, “Don’t let him into your room! Please, young lady!”
What is he talking about? Maomao looked at him with pity as Hongniang appeared with a syringe. She administered the medicine into his gluteal muscle and his screaming and fidgeting soon ceased. His eyes drifted off to a distant place, and his face seemed even more beautiful stained with his own tears. Something in her stomach fluttered as she watched the orderlies lift him and carry him off to his room.
“I’m sorry about that,” Hongniang apologised, “We wouldn’t have let him hurt you.”
“I don’t think that was his intention,” Maomao said more to herself than to the nurse. She closed her door quietly and went back into bed. She found herself thinking of the man all night, the way he had run from her in the common area yet had to be restrained before he made it to her room. He was trying to warn her maybe, but she assumed he was simply suffering from a delusion. Poor fellow, Maomao thought as she drifted off into sleep.
Day one down.