Section 1: The Waking
Moon lay curled on her side, cheek pressed to the cool, damp grass that tickled like forgotten whispers. Tall blades swayed gentle overhead, catching the first pale light of dawn. A soft wind brushed her cheek—crisp, carrying hints of jasmine and earth turned fresh. Leaves rustled above, a quiet song from unseen branches.
Distant voices pierced the hush—sharp, urgent. "MISS! MISS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
Moon groaned low, eyes still sealed shut, body heavy as if dragged from deep sleep. "Mmm... who's shouting so early...?" Her voice mumbled thick, slurred soft like hangover haze. The grass smelled sweet—dewy green, not mountain stone. Dream? Beer still kicking?
Footsteps pattered quick—silk rustling like startled birds. Two palace maids burst into frame: pastel robes fluttering pale pink and blue, hair pinned high with jade ornaments glinting like morning dew. Sleeves billowed as they ran, faces flushed with worry, fans clutched forgotten in white-knuckled hands.
"Shàng tiān! Where did this girl come from?" The first maid gasped, voice high and breathless, eyes wide on Moon's form. "She's not from any palace division! Look—no insignia, no seal!"
The second knelt closer, hand hovering hesitant. "Is she sick? Hurt? Her skin's so pale—like moon frost." Panic laced their words, growing louder, bouncing off the stone lanterns nearby.
Moon winced noise drilling her skull. "Why... is everyone... shouting... in my dream...?" She shifted slow, grass shifting under her like a soft bed she didn't earn.
She rubbed her eyes lazy—fingers clumsy, like waking after too many cans, lids heavy with sleep's glue. Hair tumbled across her face—messy waves, soft and wild, framing cheeks still flushed from mountain tears. "Huh...? Why is there so much... noise...?"
Sat up slow propping on elbows, world tilting faint. Sounds sharpened: birds chirping bright in cherry branches, footsteps crunching gravel, jade pins jingling like tiny bells, maids' whispers buzzing frantic like bees.
Moon blinked—slow drags, vision clearing patch by patch.
"…All this noise…? Is there some kind of festival going on or what…?"
The words slipped out hazy, half-awake, as if her brain was wrapped in the same fog as last night's beer cans.
Eyes snapped wide—huge, dark pools drinking the scene. Froze her solid.
Before her: breathtaking sprawl. Lotus ponds shimmered pale gold under dawn, petals half-open like shy secrets. Cherry trees dusted light with early blossoms—pink whispers on bare limbs. Stone lanterns crouched dragon-shaped, moss-cloaked, guarding arched paths. Silk banners swayed lazy in the breeze—crimson and gold threads catching sun, rippling like living flames. Behind it all: the palace. Giant, looming—red-tiled roofs curving graceful, golden eaves glinting fierce, walls etched with coiling clouds and phoenix fire.
Mouth dropped—o wide, breath stolen. "...What... the... hell...?"
A maid gasped hand to chest. "She's awake!! Quick, fetch water—does she need the physician?"
The other leaned in, voice trembling kind. "Miss, how did you get here?! Which court are you from? Outer? Rear? Speak, please—we must report!"
Moon stared—gaze darting wild: maids' robes intricate, hairpins jade-carved, palace vibe straight from her book pages. Brain shorted—buzz-crackle. "No no no no no—THIS ISN'T REAL."
Hands flew to temples—pressing hard, like squeezing sense back. "This is the beer. It HAS to be the beer." Voice pitched high, internal scream leaking out. Looked 'round frantic—ponds still shimmering, trees blooming impossible in winter chill. "I drank five cans. I'm hallucinating. I'm DEFINITELY asleep somewhere. Maybe on the mountain. Maybe on the road. Maybe dead—"
The maid flinched—face paling, fan dropping. "Dead?! Heavens, no—don't curse us!"
The other crossed arms quick, warding sign. "Heaven forbid! Don't say such things—it's bad luck! Are you cursed? From the wilds?"
Moon blinked—slow, disbelieving. "...Are these hallucinations TALKING BACK now? Great. Rock bottom: chatty beer ghosts."
Moon slapped her cheeks—light smack-smack, sting blooming pink. "Okay Moon, calm down. This is a dream. Just a dream. A pretty... complicated... dream." Voice wobbled, hands rubbing the burn, eyes squeezing shut. Wake. Pinch. Anything.
The maids exchanged looks—brows furrowed worry, whispers quick. "Miss...? Why are you hitting yourself? Has something possessed you?"
"Did she lose her memory...? Or is she from the outer barbarians—speaking strange tongues?" The first maid fretted, edging closer, hand out like to a spooked foal.
Moon ignored—palms jammed to eyes, pressing dark. "Just wake up. Wake up, Moon. You passed out after drinking. This is all beer-brain nonsense." World spun faint behind lids—palace gold, maid silks. Not real. Can't be.
Pushed up slow—legs wobbling like wet noodles, knees locking late. Stood full—sway, catch balance on air. Modern jeans? Gone. Hoodie? Vanished. Soft inner court robes draped her now—pale blue silk, loose and flowing, tied simple at waist. No modern mark. Just ancient grace.
Yelped—sharp, hand flying to hem. "WHAT—WHO CHANGED MY CLOTHES?!" Voice cracked high, pulling fabric like poison.
The maids screamed back—shrill harmony, jumping half-step. "Please calm down!! We didn't touch you—swear by the heavens!"
"We just found you lying here—like fallen from the clouds!" The second wailed, hands waving frantic. "No one came near—who would dare in the Inner Court?"
Moon froze—stare down at the silk, smooth under fingers. "...You mean someone ELSE changed me? In this 'dream'?!" Panic spiked—heart thump visible, cheeks flushing deeper.
Maids: "..." Awkward beat—eyes wide, silence thick as fog. One fidgeted with her fan, other glanced path-ward like help prayed.
Moon rubbed eyes again—fierce, voice dropping small, lost: "...I'm... still dreaming... right?"
Disclaimer
This work is a fan-made story inspired by The Apothecary Diaries. The world, its canon characters, and original setting belong to their creators.
Moon, her journey, and all new scenes written here are entirely my own creations. This story is shared purely for love of the universe and for personal enjoyment. No copyright infringement is intended.