A review by zibbi_is_reading
The Apothecary Diaries, Volume 12 by Nekokurage, Itsuki Nanao, Natsu Hyuuga

adventurous funny mysterious fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

“Such a lordly man with confidence in his looks… must possess an equally fine frog.” 

Ah yes, a volume that arrived precisely when I needed it, like a perfectly brewed medicinal tea after a week of chewing on moral philosophy and social trauma. I’d just finished a slew of novels heavy enough to make both the bookshelf and my brain groan. 

This one is neatly sliced into two parts: a ghost story and a hunting trip that manages to be simultaneously deadly, ridiculous, and oddly romantic. 

The ghost story is, frankly, gorgeous. The art alone deserves its own imperial commendation. Shadows slink, expressions shift, and the whole thing has that delightful eerie old-school horror quality art. 

Maomao, of course, applies her usual cocktail of science, deduction, and disdain for melodrama, and yet… something about this one felt unfinished. The arc ends so abruptly, it’s as if someone blew out the storytelling candle mid-sentence. 

And I must say, it felt most unlike Maomao to simply let things slide. I mean, we’re talking about a woman who would investigate suspicious tea leaves if they looked at her funny, and yet here she is, turning a blind eye to a highly suspect lady-in-waiting who could’ve murdered everyone with incense and folklore. 

Honestly, I find it hard to believe she’s being so lenient with Shisui too. I’ve got this wild theory that she’s actually Consort Loulan in disguise. Either Maomao is playing a much deeper game than we realize or she’s finally learned the art of plausible deniability. 

We also meet Ba Sen in this volume, son of the famously gruff but gentle Gao Shun. He’s as straight-laced as a military scroll and twice as rigid, but somehow ends up being accidentally hilarious, especially in the way he tries (and fails) to process Maomao’s entire existence. 

Then comes the hunt, which is equal parts life-threatening and emotionally confusing. Maomao and Jinshi, together in the wilderness, facing danger, and that most terrifying beast of all: attraction. It’s a comedy of near-misses and veiled gazes, all wrapped up in layers of polite avoidance and inner monologue. If slow burn were a spice, this arc would be marinated in it. The tension! The subtext! Glorious awkwardness! I had to physically restrain myself from squealing out loud and kicking the air like a giddy child while reading the last two chapters. 

And that’s the beauty of it, really. My friends, this is what happens when you let a slow burn simmer properly over eleven volumes. This is why we love slow burn romance… because when something finally almost happens, it feels like an earthquake in a teacup.