She threw her hands up, gesturing wildly to the blackened, smoking clay pot beside her feet.
"Do you have any idea what you have done?!" Heena raged, stepping toward the threshold as Old Zhao instinctively flinched back. "Thanks to your idiocy, the rare alchemical batch you just ruined in that pot is worth more than eighty of your miserable chickens! And you are standing in my doorway talking to me about one?!"
Old Zhao's rough face went entirely pale, her lips parting without a sound as the astronomical math hit her ears.
