Gyokuyou Apothecary Diaries Mga Nobela at Kwento

My steps are slow and reverent as I enter, drinking in every detail. A broad wooden table dominates the center, its surface clear except for a leather mat and a marble mortar set to the side. All around it, elegant black shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, each one filled to bursting with neat rows of labeled jars, vials, and apothecary bottles. Dried herbs hang in fragrant bundles from exposed beams. Shimmering apparatuses... still, flasks, retorts, alembics... are arranged meticulously beside tiny glass droppers and rows of tincture bottles.

“While we were in there, I received a text. The guards have found the apothecary’s files from the correct year.” “Let’s go at once,” I said, my dwindled hope rebuilding once more. When we entered the apothecary’s shop, the binder of files was out on the counter. I went over at once. One of my guards had already started coming through. “Here,” he said, showing me the year. “A lot of poison went out this year. And all to one person.” My blood ran cold, my outrage burning a bright flame in my chest. Darius.

Just quiet. His car was spotless, the scent of pine and leather lingering as I buckled in. No evidence of the fight we had in it just two days ago. The apothecary sat at the edge of town, tucked between an old bookstore and a tiny café. Inside, it smelled of dried herbs, honey, and dust. Rows upon rows of tiny jars, labeled with what looked to be duct tape, lined the walls. “Feverroot,” I read aloud from the list.

he encouraged, taking a seat across from me at the kitchen island. I carefully untied the twine and peeled back the paper. Inside was a stack of worn leather journals, their pages yellowed with age. On the cover of the topmost journal was a familiar symbol—a snowflake-like design that made my heart skip a beat. "These are..." My voice trailed off as I gently opened the first journal. Inside, written in a flowing script I somehow recognized despite never having seen it before, were detailed formulations for healing herbs combinations. At the top of the first page was a heading: "Winter's Remedy – Primary Formulations."

Nothing more than herbs and chemicals that kill my appetite and purge my body. But I couldn’t help but wonder… What if my handmaid was right? What if there really was something more sinister in those supposed diet supplements? A hundred terrifying scenarios flashed through my mind, each more disturbing than the last. Finally, the apothecary returned after what felt like an eternity with a small sheet of paper gripped in his weathered hand. “I have run the standard analysis,” he said, holding the sheet out to me. I felt my throat constrict as I reached out with a trembling hand to take the paper. Unfolding it slowly, I scanned the list of chemical compounds, my eyebrow furrowing in confusion

"Every tincture, every draft, every single visit made to the lower-tier quarters in the last fortnight. Now." The head apothecary, a man who usually smelled of dried lavender and nervous sweat, scrambled to comply. We spent three grueling hours poring over the vellum sheets. I personally checked the inventory for Nightshade and Silver-dust—the counts were perfect, down to the milligram. I cross-referenced the names of every authorized healer and mid-level apprentice. Nothing.

28 Sienna. There’s a rhythm to the apothecary I like best in the early hours. There were no customers, no clinking of bottles or awkward small talk. Nothing but the creak of floorboards and the quiet pulse of herbs straining through cheesecloth. Peace. Until recently, that peace had been dependable and predictable. Now it’s cracked.

Philip asked. Dr. Gates nodded and said, “Yes, it was recorded in an ancient book with the handwritten notes of Symonds Soto, the King of Medicine. I was fortunate enough to have contact with a descendant of the Soto family before I could see this ancient book. This prescription was recorded there. However, this remedy is not aimed at the young madam's golden blood disease but involves a more secret legend.” Handwritten notes of Symonds Soto, the King of Medicine? Philip froze for a moment. He knew something about the Soto family.

It was a common thing, nobody would even be surprised, given the line of work that the madame was into. We had just murdered a well known person in society and questions would be asked. Luckily for us, I paid attention in chemistry classes and did some extra researches on my own. The answer to our problem was a mixture of sodium hydroxide with water, also known as lye. When this mixture is heated to boiling point, it dissolves tissue in a matter of hours. The body is reduced to a brownish slime, leaving only crisp bones that can be easily disposed.