"Note that the properties of some medicinal materials may change over time."
As Mrs. Allen checked the ledgers, she said, "What you just learned from the book may not be applicable in practice."
Ron nodded and began to examine the pile of herbs carefully.
With the ability to identify medicinal herbs, he can sense the unique "aura" emitted by each material.
"This." He picked up a glass bottle containing silver powder, thought for a moment, and said:
"Logically, this should be the powder of moon dew flower, but this dark color seems to be different from what is recorded in the book."
"Very good." Mrs. Allen looked up. "Did you notice the pale purple mark at the mouth of the bottle?"
Ron observed more closely: "Is it because it reacted with other medicinal herbs?"
"That's right." Mrs. Allen put down the ledger.
"Moon dew pollen should be pure silver, but it's very sensitive to various energies. Yesterday, a buyer brought in a batch of amethyst grass, and it was because they didn't separate and store it properly in time."
At this point, she glanced at Ron with a testing look in her eyes: "So, what do you think we should do with this bottle of powder?"
Ron thought for a moment: "First, we need to reseal it to prevent further contamination, and then..."
He recalled the contents of "Fundamentals of Potions":
"If it reacts with the amethyst grass, it should be able to be used to make potions. Although the purity is reduced, its medicinal properties are mild."
"A good idea."
A hint of appreciation flashed in the old witch's eyes, and she nodded slightly in approval: "It seems that you not only remember the contents of the book, but also know how to apply them in practice."
Ron carefully placed the bottle of powder aside and continued organizing the other medicinal herbs.
Gradually, he discovered that there seemed to be some kind of pattern hidden in these seemingly messy materials.
For example, most of the medicinal herbs that glow have a faint, almost imperceptible, starlight-like aura.
The materials that radiated heat all carried a special rhythm, reminding him of the solar energy described in "Corona Breathing Technique".
"I see," he muttered to himself thoughtfully.
In the process of actually working with these materials, the knowledge from the books is gradually being transformed into practical experience.
Those once obscure and difficult descriptions have now become vivid.
"Huh?" Ron suddenly noticed a small bottle tucked away in a corner.
The bottle was covered with a thin layer of dust, but through the dirty glass, you could still see a faint starlight twinkling inside.
Just as he was about to examine it more closely, Mrs. Allen's voice suddenly rang out:
"No one has cleaned that place in a long time. Looks like you've found something interesting."
"This is... Stardust Liquid?" Ron carefully wiped the bottle. "The book says this material can help stabilize fluctuations in mental energy."
"That's right." Mrs. Allen walked over, took the bottle, and examined it under the light. "However, this bottle has been sitting for too long, and the medicinal effects have almost completely dissipated."
She glanced at Ron's slightly disappointed expression: "What? You're interested in this?"
Ron didn't hide anything: "Yes, the apprenticeship assessment that will decide whether I can stay here is in three months, and I need to improve my mental strength as soon as possible."
"I see."
Mrs. Allen smiled nonchalantly: "No wonder you chose to apply for this job. This is indeed a great place to get in touch with all sorts of rare materials."
She put the bottle back on the shelf: "However, external objects alone are not enough to improve mental strength. True breakthroughs still depend on one's own comprehension."
Ron fell into deep thought. Indeed, his meditation during this period had given him some profound insights. If he relied solely on external aids, something extremely terrible might happen.
Just then, the shop door was pushed open, and a gust of wind carried in a few withered leaves.
"Welcome." Mrs. Allen stopped abruptly halfway through her sentence.
Ron looked in the direction of the sound and saw a tall figure standing at the door.
The newcomer wore a gray-blue robe and a badge inlaid with a deep blue gemstone pinned to his chest—the mark of a senior apprentice.
He took off his hood, revealing a young but slightly pale face.
"Mrs. Allen." The man nodded slightly. "I heard you recently received a new batch of evening primrose?"
"Yes, Holt the apprentice."
Mrs. Allen spoke casually, as if she were very familiar with the young apprentice before her: "They were all picked on the night of the full moon three days ago."
"Continue with your work. I'll take care of the guests." She turned her head and whispered to Ron, "Don't ask anything, don't say anything."
Ron nodded silently and continued organizing the medicinal herbs in his hands.
But he could sense that the atmosphere in the store had suddenly become heavy.
The senior apprentice, who appeared to be a regular customer, didn't say anything, but simply paced slowly between the shelves.
His robes fluttered without wind, and each time he passed the bottles and jars containing medicinal herbs, the contents inside would produce subtle fluctuations.
Ron observed the herbs out of the corner of his eye as he sorted them.
This is a rare opportunity—to get up close and personal with a highly qualified apprentice and perhaps learn something.
With his keen senses granted by his [Medicinal Herb Identification] ability, he noticed that the person would pause briefly when passing by certain medicinal herbs.
These materials may seem ordinary, but they all carry a special kind of "resonance".
"The quality is good."
Holt carefully examined the medicinal herbs and then took out a complete magic stone from his robe: "I'll take them all."
Ron looked at the magic stone and his heart skipped a beat.
Unlike the fragments used by ordinary apprentices, complete magic stones contain pure and powerful energy.
Just then, a "Star Grass" he was arranging in his hand suddenly emitted a faint light, as if responding to the energy in the magic stone.
The gray-robed apprentice paused, turning to look at Ron.
Although you can't see the other person's expression, that sharp gaze sends chills down your spine.
"Interesting," he muttered to himself. "This Star Grass is still alive, little guy, how did you do that?"
Ron's heart raced, but he remained outwardly calm: "Sir, I simply followed the instructions in the book and sealed it with salt crystal powder."
"No…" Holt interrupted him:
"Ordinary preservation methods cannot achieve this level of preservation. This herb was harvested several days ago, and the fact that it can maintain such activity shows that you have some understanding of its 'rhythm'."
Ron was taken aback. He had indeed sensed the unique "rhythm" of this plant while tidying it up. The rhythm was similar to the mental fluctuations he experienced during his morning meditation, so he subconsciously arranged it in a similar way.
"Very nice. What's your name?"
Just as Ron was about to answer, Mrs. Allen suddenly interrupted their conversation:
"This is my new assistant; he's still just an apprentice."