Mao Mao Apothecary Diaries の小説・ストーリー

He spoke with quiet conviction, then turned to take his leave, but not before casting a fleeting glance at Ragaleon. The Apothecarium smelled sharply of herbs and smoke, a pungent, earthy scent that clung to every corner. Shelves lined the walls, sagging slightly under the weight of glass bottles and jars, each filled with liquids of every imaginable hue—murky greys, deep ambers, and translucent greens that seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight. In the center of the room, a large cauldron simmered over a bed of smoldering charcoal, bubbles rising and bursting in the thick, dark herbal mixture. Wisps of steam curled upward, carrying the bitter aroma of roots, dried leaves, and crushed bar

My tummy aches with an odd pain as I feel my dinner rise up to my throat. “Poison?” Ma’oz dashes to my side and releases a gentle healing through me. It doesn’t work. I start to retch and puke. I can’t take the smell of any of the food, it seems now. This is so odd! “CALL FOR THE HEALER!” Ma’oz’s voice thundered through the castle. I cover my ears and wince as my eardrums vibrate to a point of pain. *** Ma’oz ‘s POV

"Don't let the damp air inside." I slipped through the gap, and the heavy door thudded shut right behind me. The cellar was dimly lit by half-melted tallow candles stuck directly onto wooden shelves. The walls were stacked floor to ceiling with glass jars. Some were packed with dried roots and crushed grey leaves, others filled with murky liquids holding weird, floating things I didn't care to look at too closely. Maeve was standing behind her low wooden counter, wiping her yellow-stained fingers on a grease-spotted apron. She looked about eighty, with wild silver hair pinned up by a bone needle and a deeply wrinkled face.

Behind the counter sat a slim man in a stained lab coat, flipping through a newspaper. He didn’t look up. “What do you need?” “Someone recommended me here,” Maya said, her voice barely above a whisper. He finally glanced up, really looking at her. “Like I said, what do you need?” “I don’t know if you can… help me.” She hesitated. “I need Miso… misoprostol.” That got his attention. The paper dropped. “Are you crazy?” he hissed, stepping back. “I don’t sell that kind of thing here. Get out.”

she whispered, shoulders hunching up around her ears. Julius was rambling about something, but I wasn’t hearing him anymore. I was too focused on the bright pink blush spreading across Allie’s cheeks as she stared at whatever book had caused her reaction. She slowly turned it around so I could see the cover. Ah. Fuck. Milkmaid Diaries: A Dutch Pornstar’s Autobiography. The cover featured exactly what you’d expect from that title – graphic close-ups that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Nothing like accidentally discovering a chronicle of explicit selfies to drive home the point that this was definitely not the cozy library experience she’d been hoping for.

“How do you even get into this thing…like…what is the front and what is the back?!” Mia couldn’t help but laugh. “No idea, but put it down in case you’re holding a bit that you’d rather not.” Tilly dropped the item like a hot brick. Coming up empty from the underwear draw, Mia went to Savannah’s desk. Mia was hoping that Savannah would have a diary, but there was nothing like that. However, as she riffled through one of the bottom draws of the desk, she saw something that made her pause. It was a large bottle of what first looked like vitamins, but when Mia looked closer, she realised they weren’t vitamins at all. Even though there were Chinese symbols on the side, Mia knew what they were me

The room was dim until Cain moved past her to light a lamp on the heavy central worktable, and the light spread outward to catch on shelved jars, leather book spines, copper instruments gone green with age. A healer's workshop. She'd never seen one — she'd been too young when the Ashford home burned, and whatever her mother had kept had burned with it. But she'd read about them in the books she'd stolen during her years at Blood Moon. She'd memorised the descriptions: the worktable, the drying racks, the journals, the apothecary organisation of a hundred small jars. This was that. This was exactly that. "How long has this been here?" she heard herself ask.

Upstairs. Mary Kinson shut the door, walked straight to the closet, took everything out, and started looking for the medicine she needed. In the wardrobe is an antique mahogany box. The lock construction demonstrates the advanced intelligence of ancient humans. It can only be opened by Mary Kinson and Yaoi. After opening, there are nicely stacked bottles of miniature medicine cans within, containing various specifically made medicines. The cell phone in her pocket rang at this precise moment. Mary Kinson looked up and pressed the answer button.

When I eventually come to a halt before the secret herbal shop wedged between an abandoned bakery and a boarded-up bodega, the neon sign above flickers weakly in the rain-drenched dawn: Madame Liora’s Remedies & Charms. I gather Aaron into my arms, disregarding the searing cold as ice rain soaks my coat. His flesh burns against mine like fire. His small fingers quiver weakly, his mouth mumbling incomprehensible things that send horror lancing through my chest. The antique brass bell clangs wildly as I shove through the cracked wooden door. “Madame Liora!” I shout, voice breaking with desperation. “Please, it’s Aaron – something’s wrong!”

He asked, "What do you mean?" Qin Shaoyang looked out of the window, where the wind had carried several dead leaves into the room. "Zuoqiu Que, a Level Four apothecary." Xiao Chen's heart sank. Naturally, he knew about apothecaries. He had heard quite a few stories about them from Gui Xian. High-level apothecaries not only could revive the dead but also possessed extraordinary pill concoction skills. Thus, in the Violet Manor, apothecaries were very well-connected. Many would rather offend an entire sect than offend an apothecary of Level Three and above.