Chapter 23: A Small Profit

"What do you think? We are very sincere. With such a large quantity, I don't know how long it will take to sell all of it in Zak Town."

Lemansky took a sip of hot water and stared at the young herbalist, waiting for him to bargain.

Clown smiled shyly and said in a deep voice: "My price is fair. Let's do the math first!"

"Generally speaking, apart from injuries such as bruises and sprains, if people are sick and cannot recover, they will go to the church to buy holy water when their condition worsens."

"For a severe cold or fever like this, you only need the lowest-grade No. 3 holy water. Taking the Church of the God of Fire as an example, each bottle of No. 3 holy water costs 50 silver coins and can be used four or five times."

"Based on five uses, you generally need to drink it twice to recover. The cost of treatment is twenty silver coins."

"One bottle of Bupleurum Medicinal Decoction can cure this disease. I sell it for 5 silver coins. You should have a profit margin of at least 10 silver coins."

"I still have to bear the cost of the herbs, so by this calculation, 5 silver coins is not enough for me."

Crown spoke eloquently and logically.

The old man's face looked a little ugly, the account was calculated clearly.

This kid is not easy to deal with.

Lemanski sighed silently, with an embarrassed expression on his face: "Your calculation is correct, but we need to pay for your goods first, so part of our funds will be occupied. We don't know when we can sell all the goods, and this will occupy the carriage inventory. During transportation, something is bound to happen. If we encounter monsters on the way, we may have to abandon the entire truckload of goods to escape."

"In short, we took more risks. I have also done in-depth research on herbal medicine, and I can roughly restore the herbal ingredients in your potion. Most of the raw materials in the Bupleurum potion are ordinary common herbs, right? I guess the cost of one herb is no more than five silver coins. And one herb can produce two sets of six potions in total."

Expert. Clown smiled slightly: "What is the success rate of the herbalist with the highest success rate you have seen? Can it reach 100%?"

The old man was speechless. As a skilled pharmacist, the success rate of making a very familiar potion was at most 50 to 60 percent.

The two of them argued back and forth for a while before the purchase price of the medicine was finally determined.

Each bottle of Chaihu potion costs 4 silver coins and 50 copper yuan, and the price of pink potion remains unchanged, 20 silver coins per bottle.

The people who were counting the potions finally finished, and the Gysse who was in the lead said something to the old man in an incomprehensible language.

Lemanski nodded slightly and turned to look at Crown: "600 bottles of Bupleurum Potion and 100 bottles of Pink Potion, is that correct?"

“That’s exactly the number.”

The old man said something to the people who were counting the potions, and they began to move the potions away.

After the table was cleaned, the old man clapped his hands, and the little girl who had a fever last night ran over and handed him two boxes.

"Look, this is what you want."

Crown opened one of the boxes and saw that the black sage inside was well preserved and the roots were rarely broken. He nodded with satisfaction.

He opened another one and found dried blue petals inside.

I took a light sniff and a fragrant aroma filled my nose.

Crown took off the briefcase on his back and pulled out a small pocket-sized box.

Open the small box and take out the things inside and arrange them. This is a set of scales.

After weighing it skillfully, he smiled and said, "I am very satisfied with the goods. We can settle the bill now."

Taking out a pencil and some pieces of paper from his cloth bag, Crown began to calculate skillfully, muttering to himself.

"My goods, 600 Bupleurum potion, 27 gold shields, 100 pink potion, 20 gold shields, a total of 47 gold shields, 10 black sage, 5 gold shields, 100 grams of blue tulip petals, 15 gold shields, you still need to give me 27 gold shields. Yes, that's it, that's right."

After saying this, Crown handed the paper with his calculations to old man Giselle.

Lemanski took a quick glance, pulled out a cloth bag from his bosom, and pointed out a full amount of gold shields: "Originally we were going to leave for Rhine City tomorrow. Since you said you can make the boiling blood potion, I can wait for you until noon the day after tomorrow."

Taking the heavy golden shield, Crown blew a loud whistle:

"That's not necessary at all. You will see what you want tomorrow at noon."

It was his first time to refine an extraordinary potion, so he had no idea about it, but it did not affect his confidence.

He bought 10 sets of materials. Since high-level potions needed to be refined and purified, each set of materials could only produce one set of finished products, which was three.

When you first start to refine a new potion, there will definitely be all kinds of unexpected situations. He planned to divide each ingredient into three equal parts and practice with them one by one.

Out of 30 chances, there will always be one or two that will succeed, right?

I have to work all night again! Clown sighed inwardly.

In order to have a stronger voice in front of his dealers, he decided to show his potential as much as possible.

The Gysai are a nomadic people, but they are quite united and help each other.

If he could capture Lemanski's small caravan, he could establish a connection with the entire group behind it.

"See you tomorrow then," Krahn said, standing up and saying goodbye.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

"See you tomorrow."

. . . .

As he stepped into the hotel from the back door, the warm atmosphere dispelled the coldness on Crown's face.

The weather was indeed getting much colder, and he felt a little shivering after walking a few steps outside.

Walking to the counter, Clown asked, "Old Jason, where are those two foreigners carrying long swords?"

"Why are you looking for them? That guy with the scar on his face looks like someone you don't want to mess with."

The innkeeper put down the rag in his hand and lowered his voice: "This evening, a drunk came to provoke me. The white-haired guy punched him and sent him flying out the door. His nose was broken."

Crown shrugged, "Don't worry, I was just talking business with him. He bought some herbs from me."

"Oh, I see. Go upstairs, to the innermost room," Jason pointed to the staircase.

Walking up the creaking stairs, Crowne went up to the end of the corridor.

Boom boom boom.

"Who is it?" came a slightly childish voice.

"Open the door, Alan. It's me, Crown. I'll treat you to roast lamb legs in a few days."

Soon, the door was opened.

"Brother, you must keep your word!"

Little Alan raised his rosy little face and excitedly let the visitor in.

"Keep your word," Klauen came in and saw Geralt wiping his sword.

"I brought the black sage," he took out a small box from his briefcase and handed it to the witcher. The herbs in it were picked by him.

The white-haired man took it, opened the box, picked up a plant and looked at it carefully, then nodded with a smile: "Not bad, the herbs were not damaged at all when they were picked."

"Alan, get the money for Crown."

(End of this chapter)