Chapter 15

“This?” Zinnia dug it out from the bottom, where it had been buried for weeks. Her master had given it to her, muttering something about how she could take it to some shop if she ever got into trouble. But she’d been half-asleep, and the details were fuzzy. She hadn’t needed it in Jinston, so she’d just shoved it in her bag–partly because she was still annoyed that her master had left without explanation. The token stayed, forgotten at the bottom.

“Yeah. Can I take a look?” The clerk’s voice buzzed with sudden energy as he stared at the token in her hand.

“Sure.” Zinnia handed it over without a second thought.

The clerk took the token in both hands, studying it. At first glance, it looked ordinary—just a plain brown piece of wood. But when his fingers touched the bottom-right corner, he recognized the texture. His pulse jumped as the truth hit him—this was the real deal.

“Miss, what herbs are you selling? We’ll take everything you have.” The clerk smiled as he handed back the wooden token, his tone shifting from polite to friendly in a heartbeat.

The higher-ups had been clear: Anyone with this token got whatever they asked for, no questions. He didn’t know why a girl like her had it, but that wasn’t his problem. His job was simple–follow orders.

“I only have five,” Zinnia said, tucking the token away and pulling out a small white tin. She hadn’t planned to sell more–the rest were for something else.

“Will you buy these?” She opened the box, revealing a messy pile of ginseng roots.

The clerk’s eyes went wide. “This… this is wild ginseng! At least eighty years old!” His hands trembled as he reached toward the roots.

The store handled plenty of ginseng, but specimens like this–wild, with perfectly preserved roots–were extraordinary. It was not quite ancient, but the wild growth made it worth a fortune.

“Yeah,” Zinnia replied casually. She glanced at the tangled roots, suddenly guilty for stuffing them in carelessly. As she tried to straighten them out, a thin rootlet snapped between her fingers.

The clerk couldn’t bear to watch Zinnia manhandle the ginseng any longer. “Please, miss, don’t trouble yourself,” he said hurriedly. “We’ll take it all. Just leave it to me.”

This wasn’t just any root–it was rare, wild ginseng, worth a small fortune, and she was treating it like some common herb.

That single rootlet could have fetched thousands—yet Zinnia snapped it off without a second thought, as if it were worthless. Worse still, she carelessly stuffed the precious roots into a bare metal box before tossing the whole thing into her bag.

The clerk couldn’t help but wince. He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Does she truly not understand how rare this is? Or does she just not care?‘

But Zinnia didn’t understand his reaction. To her, it was just ginseng— nothing special. She’d grown up surrounded by it in that small town, where her master had once ground it into bitter pills she’d long since grown tired of.

Zinnia had thought about giving the ginseng as a gift when she first arrived at the Shaw residence.

But their first meeting hadn’t gone well. After Betty fainted that first day–sending the family scrambling to the hospital while Zinnia stood forgotten in the empty house–she changed her mind.

Months passed, and the ginseng remained tucked away. By now, she’d made up her mind–the Shaws didn’t deserve it. It was not because of its value, but because she no longer cared to give them anything at all.

Spending the money on herself felt infinitely better than handing it over to the Shaw family.

Zinnia wasn’t one to forget a grudge. Wrong her, and she’d return the favor with frost. Offer kindness, and she’d match it tenfold. If someone disliked her, the sentiment was always mutual.

To her astonishment, the five wild ginseng roots sold for one million dollars.

Jinston never failed to surprise her. She had expected a few thousand at most.

Back in that small town, wild ginseng might fetch a few thousand at best—just enough for her master to put meat on the table for a week or two before the coins ran dry.

But now she was sitting on a fortune, enough to keep her in meat for life if she wanted.

These were only the smaller roots. Her suitcase still held bigger ones, and more grew untouched in Tareston. Zinnia grinned, imagining future meals always heavy with meat.

With the herbs neatly packed, Zinnia left the mall, eager to get home and properly position her treasured good-luck charm.

The price these gnarled roots fetched was staggering. Had she known their true worth earlier, she would never have swallowed all those ginseng pills her master gave her. Each one could have fetched a small fortune in this city.

Zinnia marveled at the ginseng’s staggering worth in Jinston. Back home, this much money could have fed them properly for months–no more making do with just two vegetable meals and a single meat dish each day.

She didn’t understand much about ginseng’s value. Her master had simply told her one root could buy a meat meal, and she’d taken him at his word.

The one million dollars now sitting in her account sent a warm thrill through her. For now, she was staying with the Lynns, where meat appeared on the table without her spending a coin.

Once she moved out, she figured a few thousand would buy her meat every day.

To her surprise, food in Jinston actually cost less than in her remote town. When she’d quietly asked the Lynns’ chef, he told her their best beef cost just a few hundred per portion—a tenth of what they’d paid back home.

‘No wonder our town was always so poor,’ she thought. ‘When meat costs this much, no one eats well.’

With a million dollars, she could eat meat every day if she wanted–no more strict limitations of her past. But she decided to take breaks sometimes, just to avoid getting sick from eating too much.

Zinnia wasn’t hard to please. A solid meat meal once a day kept her happy. One million would keep her fed for a long time. She tapped her fingers absently, working out the math in her head.

Since arriving in Jinston, Zinnia hadn’t once gone shopping. The Shaws provided meals—nothing fancy, but enough to get by—so she never learned what things cost in the city.

Her master’s words still rang in her ears–several thousand for a proper meat meal. She’d dealt in sums like that since she was a girl, so one million meant little beyond more frequent feasting.

As her elevator descended, Zinnia noted the other display still showed 18. With a sigh, she accepted she’d never see that breathtaking man again.

Zinnia loved being around good-looking people—their pleasing faces never failed to lift her spirits. Truth be told, the main reason she’d stayed at the Shaw residence so long was because everyone there was so attractive.

The Lynn family’s driver stood waiting by the car when Zinnia emerged from the mall. Spotting her approach, he hurried forward to take her shopping bags. “Find everything you needed, Ms. Shaw?” he asked.

“Thanks.” Zinnia offered him a courteous smile as she slid into the backseat.

“Your grandma just called, saying that Mr. Jackson Lynn has returned. We should arrive back just in time for lunch if we leave now,” he informed her while stowing the packages in the trunk.

After securing her purchases, the driver circled back to the front, started the engine, and pulled smoothly out of the parking space.

Zinnia’s efficient shopping meant they’d indeed return right as the meal was being served. “Okay,” she replied with a satisfied nod.