Anshvi moved around the shop with practiced ease, gathering the herbs that were available for Eklavya’s order. She opened jars one by one, each sealed carefully to preserve fragrance and potency, measuring portions with precise movements that revealed long familiarity with her craft.

  Some herbs were dried and stored neatly in labelled containers, while others grew fresh in small clay pots arranged along shelves and tucked into corners where sunlight reached just enough to keep them alive. Vines trailed gently along the edges of wooden racks, leaves brushing against hanging bundles of roots and flowers.

  Eklavya stood quietly nearby, watching and mentally counting each ingredient, ensuring nothing was missing. The rhythmic sounds of glass lids opening and closing filled the shop, accompanied by the faint rustle of leaves. After selecting the final herb from a jar, Anshvi packed everything tightly into layered wrapping, sealing the bundle with practiced efficiency.

  She placed it on the counter and smiled lightly. “Well, my dear, everything is ready.”

  Eklavya nodded in acknowledgement. “Ah, thanks. How much does it cost?”

  “A total of four thousand low-grade spirit stones,” she replied casually. Eklavya retrieved the pouch given to him by Elder Jawla — a storage pouch capable of holding far more than its size suggested, containing six thousand low-grade spirit stones. Such pouches were common among cultivators, miniature spatial containers with internal storage reaching nearly a hundred square meters.

  He handed it over without hesitation. Anshvi accepted it, counted swiftly through spiritual sense rather than physically, then returned the remaining stones in the same pouch.

  “So,” she asked, tilting her head slightly, “are we going back to your clan first to deliver these… or heading straight to the mountains?”

  “Clan first,” he answered. He stored the herb packages carefully inside the pouch before both stepped outside. Eklavya waited near the entrance while Anshvi locked the shop door, flipping the wooden sign firmly into place. The faint bell above the door chimed once more before silence settled behind them. Without further discussion, they began walking toward the Rudra Clan together.

  The marketplace remained as lively as before. Outsiders mingled freely with clan members, bargaining loudly over prices while merchants called out offers with dramatic enthusiasm.

  Laughter, arguments, and the clatter of carts blended into a familiar rhythm that gave the district its living pulse. Nothing about the scene hinted at divine inheritances or hidden powers awakening within a young cultivator — the world simply continued as it always had.

  After several minutes of walking, the towering gates of the Rudra Clan appeared ahead. Guards stationed at the entrance immediately straightened upon seeing Eklavya and greeted him respectfully.

  Eklavya approached one of them and handed over the pouch containing the herbs. “Give this to Elder Jawla,” he instructed calmly. “If he asks where I am, tell him I’ll arrive late.”

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  The guard nodded without question and hurried inside.

  …

  Eklavya and Anshvi continued forward, leaving the pathways of the Rudra Clan behind as they crossed toward the outer market district. The clan market, built just beyond the main gates, no longer carried the same expansive presence it once had. Since the Rudra Clan had lost half of its trading territory, the marketplace felt noticeably smaller — stalls packed closer together, fewer merchant banners fluttering overhead, and gaps where thriving shops once stood now filled by temporary vendors. Even so, life persisted stubbornly. Merchants still called out prices, buyers still argued passionately, and the scent of trade lingered thick in the air.

  Without pausing, the two stepped through the thinning rows of stalls and exited the market entirely.

  Beyond it, the city unfolded in full motion. Streets stretched wide and crowded, alive with energy that contrasted sharply with the calm discipline of the clan grounds. The city was awake — fully, noisily awake — carts rattling across stone roads, spirit beasts snorting impatiently as handlers guided them through crowds, and voices overlapping into a constant hum of activity.

  After the quieter spaces of home and cultivation, the sheer liveliness felt almost overwhelming. Eklavya walked slightly ahead, his pace even and relaxed, eyes scanning the surroundings out of habit rather than caution.

  Beside him, Anshvi matched his stride effortlessly, her purple hair swaying gently behind her, catching fragments of sunlight as they moved. Despite the chaos around them, she remained unusually quiet, her usual teasing absent as they approached the towering stone walls marking the city’s outer boundary.

  The guards stationed at the gate noticed them immediately. Armour shifted, halberds lowered slightly across the path as procedure took over. Their gazes moved quickly — first toward Eklavya’s simple attire, then toward Anshvi’s composed presence, something about her demeanor alone suggesting authority beyond appearance.

  One guard stepped forward. “Identification,” he said firmly, voice professional but cautious.

  Before Eklavya could respond, Anshvi raised her hand casually. Between her fingers appeared a jade token, its surface gleaming softly as it caught the light. Engraved upon it was a phoenix emblem — elegant, unmistakable — the symbol of a guest elder affiliated with the Grand Auction House. The change in atmosphere was immediate.

  The guards froze mid-motion, recognition striking them instantly. Their stern expressions dissolved into rigid respect. Both bowed slightly and stepped aside, halberds lifting from the path.

  “You may pass,” one guard said, his voice noticeably steadier than his posture suggested.

  They walked beyond the gate without interruption. Only after several steps into the open road did Eklavya glance sideways at her. One eyebrow lifted faintly. “How do you have an auction elder token?”

  Anshvi tilted her head, a teasing smile returning as though she had been waiting for the question. “Oh? Are you finally curious about me?”

  His expression remained completely unchanged. “Not really.”

  She sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if wounded. “What a pity. I would’ve liked that.” Still, she answered. “They invited me two days ago. Offered me the position themselves. Apparently, my appraisal techniques impressed them.”

  A subtle pride colored her tone, balanced carefully with modesty. Then her eyes narrowed playfully. “But don’t misunderstand. I’m not closing my store. If you ever miss me — or simply need herbs — you still know where to find me.”

  “I see,” Eklavya replied calmly. “Then the clan won’t need to change herb suppliers every week.”

  She clicked her tongue softly, shaking her head. “Still hopeless…”

  Her voice softened at the end, almost swallowed by the wind — though not quiet enough to escape his hearing. Neither addressed it further. Side by side, they continued walking beyond the city walls, the road ahead stretching toward the distant mountains where herbs — and perhaps new complications — awaited them.