Ron held a pink, cone-shaped fruit in his hand, gently rubbing it between his fingers.
A sweet aroma drifted into his nostrils, and he could even taste a hint of sugary flavor on his tongue.
This was the Spring Fruit, the one representing sweetness.
Every harvest of the Spice Pine produced over a hundred fruits.
With a full year having passed inside the farming space, Ron now had over a hundred of each seasonal fruit.
If it were just for the use of the four people in Ron's Wonderful Flower Shop, it would be more than enough to last them a lifetime.
Ground into powder, a single fruit—about the size of a fist—would yield two to three bottles of seasoning. One fruit alone could last a month or two.
After playing with the fruit for a bit, Ron stored it back in his inventory, then broke off a branch from the tree.
It was about half a meter long and covered in thick, deep-green needle leaves, each the thickness of a baby's arm. Only the very base of the branch could be gripped comfortably.
Looking it over, Ron thought it resembled some kind of spiky club, like a punked-out weapon.
A very edgy one.
Ron grimaced. How the heck am I supposed to make tea with this thing?
He broke off a single "needle," only to find it was thicker than a steel rod, almost a meter long.
Ron stared at it speechless.
Can you even call this a "needle leaf"? This thing's more like a club. "Needle" is seriously underselling it.
He gave it a few test swings—actually, it had a nice heft and balanced well in hand.
After waving the "needle" a bit, he gave it a slap against his palm.
Crack!
The "club-leaf" shattered on impact into brittle pieces.
"Seriously?" Ron blinked, then rolled his eyes. "So it looks fierce, but it's totally fragile? That's disappointing."
Still, this solved the problem of how to use them for tea.
He quickly stripped all the "club-leaves" off the branch and tossed them into his inventory.
Then, Ron turned his attention to the now-bare branch.
The smooth, clean "body" of the branch lay cradled in his hands. He studied it carefully.
At the base where he had snapped it off, he had seen earlier that a thick, golden fluid had been oozing out—it had now begun to solidify.
Ron peered into the "hole" and saw the golden liquid still wriggling faintly inside, slowly hardening when exposed to air.
Must be the resin, he thought.
The branch, half a meter long and as thick as an adult thigh, had left behind circular patches after the needles were removed.
Touching those spots, Ron noticed they were slightly more brittle than the surrounding bark.
He channeled a bit of Battle Aura into his index finger and poked into one of the patches.
Golden, syrupy resin immediately gushed out, splattering over his hand and wrist.
His finger became engulfed in the slow, warm liquid—it felt almost like something was gently sucking on it.
He could feel internal structures within the branch—thin tubes, and membranes with exceptional flexibility.
Curious, he nudged one of the membranes deeper inside.
One finger wasn't quite enough, so Ron stuck his middle finger in too.
Golden fluid splattered everywhere. At first warm, then gradually cooling, it left a refreshing sensation on his skin—incredibly pleasant.
With both fingers inside the branch, he explored until he found that "membrane" again.
This time, he noticed it wasn't a flat surface, but rather a long cylindrical tube wrapped in a film—likely the tree's nutrient conduit for transporting resources to the leaves and fruit.
With that discovery, Ron slowly pulled his fingers out.
A stream of golden resin burst from the hole like a fountain, and only stopped when the outer liquid had hardened enough to block the flow.
Ron licked the sticky resin off his finger.
It tasted faint—but had an impressively savory umami note.
He rubbed his hands together and used the resin as hand cream, slathering it generously across his skin. He even had extra, which he applied to his forearms.
No reason to waste it—it had skin-beautifying and anti-aging properties, after all.
The warmth spread across his arms, and after a few minutes, cooled into a soothing, refreshing sensation.
Maybe because it was his first time using it, Ron clearly felt his skin become smoother, whiter, and more supple.
"I'd better not use too much of this," he muttered while stroking his chin. "Already so good-looking—if I get even better, I might just become every girl's dream and every guy's nightmare."
Snickering, he broke off a few more branches and tossed them into his inventory. Then, he peeled off some bark as well and left Puppet in charge of caring for the Spice Pine while he returned to the flower shop.
Upstairs in the second-floor kitchen, Ron took out one fruit from each season, ground them into powder, and placed the resulting powders into seasoning jars.
He labeled each jar: "Sweet," "Spicy," "Sour," and "Salty."
After a moment of thought, he took the "Spicy" bottle and placed it into his inventory instead of leaving it out.
Given the questionable four-flavor fusion effect, it was probably safest to use only three of the seasonings.
None of the girls in the flower shop liked spicy food anyway—no big loss.
He didn't want to trigger some ridiculous romance-plot disaster just because of an innocent seasoning mix.
With three ladies under one roof, who knew what might happen if they all got hit with that "side effect" at once?
Ron shook his head, tucked away the spicy bottle, neatly arranged the other three, and pulled out a palm-sized piece of bark.
He poured water into a pot, lit the fire, and after the water boiled, tossed in the bark along with Autumn Fruit powder.
Then, he returned to the sofa and read for a while.
When the potion had boiled down to a single small cup of light yellow liquid, he returned to the kitchen and poured it into a bowl.
Holding the bowl carefully, he walked downstairs to the front desk and placed it in front of Nora.
Nora still had a hint of guilty panic on her face—like a student who almost got caught doing something naughty.
She looked at the bowl and asked curiously, "Boss, what's this?"
"Something good. Drink it, and you'll see," Ron replied with a grin.
Nora didn't suspect any creepy potion play and trusted Ron enough to raise the bowl and sip it slowly.
It was a bit sour—but surprisingly tasty.
Just as she was about to ask what it did, she felt a warm current surge through her eyes.
A soothing sensation wrapped her vision—like pressing a warm towel over sore eyes, but even better.
"Mmm…" The comfort was so overwhelming that Nora closed her eyes, and moisture began pooling under her eyelids. Her eyes shimmered with mist.
After a short while, the feeling faded. When Nora opened her eyes again, her vision had noticeably improved.
Everything around her seemed brighter and sharper.