Luomen

Luomen runs a small pharmacy in the pleasure quarter and is the foster father and medical master of Maomao.

She calls him “Oyaji” or “Oyaji-dono” and genuinely respects and worries about him as family.

Physically he is a round, gentle-looking man whose mannerisms are soft and somewhat feminine, leading others to describe him as “like an old woman” rather than an old man.

Despite this mild appearance, he is one of the most brilliant doctors in the country.

He was once a court physician and eunuch in the inner palace but was punished with mutilation and exile after being blamed for the death of a newborn imperial prince.

As part of his punishment, the bone of one knee was removed, leaving him with a permanent disability and ending his career in the inner palace.

In his former inner palace days, he secretly planted medicinal herbs all over the grounds, trying to improve the health of the women and servants there.

His work combined practical medical care with stealthy reforms of hygiene, cosmetics, and education.

Luomen is famous for three traits that constantly backfire on him: his lack of greed, his terrible timing, and his atrocious luck.

He means well in almost everything he does, yet his good intentions often become the catalyst for disasters that harm others and himself.

Maomao sums him up as “Heaven gives him two gifts, and therefore takes something away” and notes that his only flaw is his lack of luck.

Ironically, his very competence and decency are what dragged him into the worst misfortunes.

Luomen is fundamentally kind-hearted, calm, and patient.

He is gentle with patients and pupils alike and rarely shows anger, even when treated unfairly.

He has extremely sharp powers of observation and a penetrating diagnostic eye, letting him see through symptoms, lies, and human behavior.

This insight makes him both a superb doctor and a quietly dangerous thinker in a rigid court society.

Despite his brilliance, he has almost no personal ambition.

He never chases wealth, rank, or fame, and this lack of self-protection leaves him vulnerable to political currents.

His sense of “timing” is notoriously bad.

He tends to be present at the wrong moment or to act just before or after crucial events in ways that allow others to shift blame onto him.

Luomen is also deeply cautious about the corrupting side of knowledge.

He understands that certain kinds of medical or anatomical knowledge can warp a person’s ethics if they have Maomao’s level of curiosity.

Because of this, he deliberately restricts what he teaches Maomao.

He refuses to let her handle human corpses and does not teach her Western-style surgery, fearing she would go so far as to dig up graves for materials.

Although modest about himself, he is realistic about human stupidity and institutional flaws.

His efforts in the inner palace—like warning against poisonous cosmetics—show both his compassion and his clear-eyed awareness of how easily harm spreads.

Luomen originally served as a medical officer in the inner palace under the Former Emperor.

At that time, by imperial policy, court physicians assigned to the inner palace were also made eunuchs to prevent sexual scandals.

He was forcibly castrated and drafted into service because his exceptional medical skills made him valuable to the court.

The initiative came largely from the former Empress Dowager, who wanted a reliable physician for the inner palace amidst the Former Emperor’s dangerous preferences.

The Former Emperor was attracted to very young girls, making low-age pregnancies and births increasingly likely.

Luomen’s presence was meant to mitigate that risk by providing advanced obstetric care.

Within the palace, Luomen quietly worked to improve conditions.

He planted medicinal herbs in hidden corners, trying to build an internal medicinal garden so remedies would always be at hand.

He also waged a one-man campaign against toxic beauty products used by the consorts and servants.

In particular, he targeted lead-based and other poisonous face powders and strongly scented oils that could slowly kill their users.

To spread awareness, he drew up warning notices listing dangerous substances and products that should not be used in the inner palace.

He cleverly used these notices as calligraphy copies and reading materials, turning them into tools to teach basic literacy to illiterate maidservants while also educating them about toxins.

These efforts had real positive effects, reducing the circulation of harmful cosmetics and raising awareness about poison.

However, the knowledge he spread also had a dark side: malicious individuals could use those warnings as a cookbook for murder and subtle poisoning.

A critical turning point came around the birth of the Former Emperor’s younger brother and the then–Crown Prince’s first child (later the current Emperor’s firstborn).

During these events, a combination of staff ignorance, poor communication, and a servant’s “small” misjudgments led to the death of the Crown Prince’s first child.

Although Luomen was not at fault—the real causes lay in lack of training and an untouchable servant who could not be punished—he became the most convenient scapegoat.

Because the servant’s negli