Chapter <b>137 </b>
In a bustling marketce that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, Mirabe felt the stirrings of frustration. How could it be that, amidst this sea ofmerce, she couldn’t find the herbs she desperately needed? It defied logic.
Rubbing her temples as if to summon patience, she continued her trek deeper into the market’s heart. That was when her gazended on a quaint little shop named Nature’s Apothecary, Its old–world charm set it apart from the modern storefronts that lined the street, beckoning her with an aura of timelessness.
With a gentle push, Mirabe entered the shop and was immediately embraced by a subtle fragrance of sandalwood that wafted through the air. It was a refreshing change from the overpowering scents that usually filled the market stalls. This aroma was neither cloying nor harsh; it had a quality distinctly superior to themon incense she was ustomed to.
She surveyed the interior, taking in the simple yet tasteful disys of carved wooden artifacts that adorned the windows and counters. The back wall was lined with small wooden cubbies. eachbeled with the name of an herb. A beaded curtain led to a back room, suggesting a
private space beyond<b>. </b>
As she was about to inquire about the herbs, the curtain was swept aside, and a middle–aged man stepped out. He paused at the sight of Mirabe. His eyes registered mild surprise before he quickly closed a wooden door behind him and approached her with a polite tone.
“I apologize, but the shop is about to close<b>,</b>” he said. His voice was tinged with the subtle hint of sending her away.
Unfazed, Mirabe got straight to the point: “Do you have Greatheart Ginseng, Cureroot, Ember Moss, and Dragonbone Stone in stock?”
The man’s eyes widened with surprise upon hearing her request. These were rare and costly herbs, known for their soothing and restorative properties. They were notmonly used together, as the blending of their effects required precision, and a miscalction could produce significant adverse reactions. Despite their <b>rarity</b>, there were few who sought to purchase them.
The man, noting Mirabe’s determined demeanor, realized she was a serious buyer. “We have all but the Greatheart Ginseng. How much do you need?<b>” </b>
A bit disappointed but still encouraged, Mirabe responded, “300 grams each of Cureroot and Ember Moss, and 250 grams of Dragonbone Stone.”
The man nodded, “We have those amounts.” After punching some numbers into the register, he informed her. “The totales to three hundred and twenty thousand.”
The price seemed fair. Mirabe pulled out her smartphone and asked, “Do you take online bank transfers?”
“Certainly,” the man replied, handing her a card with the shop’s bank ount details printed on
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Mirabe nced at the card for no more than a moment beforepleting the transfer in under two minutes. When the man’s phone pinged with the confirmation, he looked up in astonishment. She had memorized the ount number with just a brief look. That was an impressively long string of digits!
Noticing the shopkeeper’s stunned expression, Mirabe raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”
Snapping back to reality, the man quickly assured her, “No, no issue. I’ll get your herbs right. away.”
While he busied himself with her order, Mirabe casually inquired, “By the way, do where I might find Indian Old Sandalwood?”
you know
The man paused mid–task, as the question caught him off guard. Clearly, this young woman’s knowledge of herbs and her surprising request indicated she was no novice in these matters.