Mirabe dug through the box and pulled out a book titled "The Herbalist''s Ancient Compendium." She grabbed a small stool and sat down.


    This book, originating from the legendary herbalist Greenfield, catalogued over three hundred types of medicinal herbs. It detailed their properties, toxicities, synergies, and antagonisms. It was one of the mostprehensive tomes on alternative medicine passed down from our ancestors.


    These days, you can find various versions on the market, but they barely scratch the surface of herbal basics. The original work has been tranted and altered so much over the years that it''s lost most of its value as a reference.


    However, the copy in Mirabe''s hands was a true gem, meticulously preserved through the ages. She''d gone through quite the ordeal to sneak it out of her family''s libraryst year.


    What a hassle it was, with no mail service to expedite things.


    Biting back her internalints, Mirabe flipped open the book and immediately turned to page 265, where she remembered the entry on Lunar Lace


    was.


    And there it was.


    The aged page bore a simple illustration that matched the Lunar Lace sample she''d gotten from James, with a detailed description of the herb''s properties beneath.


    She had skimmed through this book as a kid, during her rebellious phase. Despite memorizing a good chunk of it, she only really grasped half of its content, given her wide array of interests and studies. The book had been neglected until she found herself in this new reality, prompted by Catherine''s illness to revisit its pages.


    Understanding the true nature of each herb required more than just reading; it necessitated various experiments.


    After poring over the pages multiple times, Mirabe finally closed the book, her mind buzzing with thoughts.


    She briefly flipped through the other rare books in the box but found nothing of immediate use. Closing the box, she stood up and returned it to the cab, securing the lock and hiding the key beneath a flowerpot.


    Exiting Catherine''s bedroom, Mirabe''s mind was still wrapped around the intricacies of herbal medicine. She walked into the living room and casually asked, "Grandma, where''s James?"


    "James just took a call and had to step out. He''ll be backter tonight," Catherine replied.


    "Okay," Mirabe nodded, then added, "By the way, my kiln..."


    Knowing her granddaughter well, Catherine had anticipated the question from the moment Mirabe inquired about the books. She pointed towards the backyard, "I''ve put it in that little shed out back for you."


    Mirabe acknowledged with a hum and headed for the yard.


    Watching her granddaughter''s departing figure, Catherine shook her head and turned to Nick, sharing a piece of her mind, "Last year, that child brought home some odd kiln. Whenever she has free time, she''s tinkering with that thing. Her interests are nothing like other teenagers."


    Nick, recalling the equipment in one of the rooms at home, figured it was probably for concocting her herbal remedies. He chuckled, "Well, it''s good to have hobbies. Let her enjoy what she likes."


    "True. She used to be so introverted, but after recovering from a severe illness, it''s like she woke up to a whole new world. She''s much more sensible now..." Catherine reminisced, her eyes welling up with tears.


    Nick, not the best at offeringfort, simply raised his hand and gently patted her on the back.