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Mr. Lin didn’t reach for medicine. Instead, he pulled out a glass jar filled with what looked like shriveled, golden buttons. "Chrysanthemum," the old man whispered. "The flower that remembers the sun."

"I need something to help me see again," Elias said, leaning against the counter. buy chrysanthemum tea

Elias entered the shop with the city’s frantic pace still thrumming in his veins. He had spent ten hours staring at blue light, and his head felt like it was wrapped in tight wire. golden buttons. "Chrysanthemum