Stop Coming On to Me (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 11
“Is there a time limit? Or is it eternal… hihyo?”
“Time-limited.”
“Um… if I give the wrong answer, could it possibly affect Lord Count…?”
“Not at all.”
His Highness Greyan firmly shook his head, assuring me there would be no adverse consequences whatsoever.
For some reason, it didn’t sound like a lie, so I stammered out my words with a sense of resignation.
“As I mentioned earlier, I truly think the Zebreon Beach is beautiful. How about inviting the other party here? It would take time to travel back and forth, and anyone who sees this beach would surely want to linger, using even more time…”
His Highness’s brow twitched slightly, and Prince Kaidel’s eyes widened a bit. I couldn’t tell what either reaction meant—and didn’t particularly want to know.
I disliked being questioned without being given the full context, yet I feared even more being told the situation outright.
Just why on earth was His Highness, the victorious Second Prince and commander of the war, holed up at the edge of the world brooding like this…?
His Highness Greyan replied.
“Yes. I also like Zebreon Beach. It seems we have something in common on that point.”
When I responded with an awkward smile, His Highness gave a faint smile and said,
“You enrolled in the Academy this year, didn’t you? Rocard here was top of his class. It wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression.”
Aaah! The Academy!
Might as well pin a sign on my clothes saying I’m a bastard who’s never even set foot near the Academy.
I didn’t even care that Prince Kaidel had frowned when the Academy came up.
Thinking my resemblance to Lord Count was my crime, I scraped together what little patience remained and answered politely.
“It seems you’ve mistaken me for Lady Misha, the legitimate daughter of House Roar.”
A brief silence followed my words. Since no one seemed to understand, I drove the point home.
“I am a bastard, Your Highness.”
“I see. Noted.”
“Thank you.”
I’d like to pickle those fingertips and eat them.
Just why on earth should I thank him for that?
But those were the only words available when addressing royalty—words like “humbled” or “honored.”
The extreme limitation in communication itself spoke of the power imbalance. Experiencing it firsthand made it feel all the more real.
“That was a pleasant conversation, Roar.”
“May I take my leave now?”
“By all means.”
“Eternal glory to Tagar.”
I bowed respectfully and left the room. The moment the door closed behind me, I ran straight to my own chamber without looking back.
As soon as Rorisha’s footsteps faded into the distance, Rocard relaxed his stiff expression and burst into loud laughter.
“Hahaha! Your Highness, isn’t she really funny?”
“Hmm.”
Seeing Greyan’s indifferent expression, Rocard quickly composed himself and said,
“Isn’t it a good idea? I mean, a way to get His Highness Orle to come visit you here.”
Greyan had served as an advisor to the two envoys negotiating the postwar compensation terms, each considering their faction’s interests. That was why the negotiations were being held in Zebreon, where he was recuperating.
Ideally, Greyan—who had led the army in the Emperor’s stead—should have announced the compensation terms himself, but with the Empress now involved, pushing for that much was difficult.
The best outcome was simply preventing the war’s achievements from being publicly credited through First Prince Orle’s mouth.
“His Highness my elder brother will certainly come, but it won’t be easy to arrange.”
“How about this as a commentary topic for the Tarjan newspaper: ‘His Highness secured the Empire’s iron ore in the war and even sustained injuries, yet First Prince Orle has never publicly expressed appreciation. Could this be a sign of internal conflict within the Imperial Family?’”
Greyan finally let out a quiet chuckle.
“You devilish fellow.”
Rocard pondered gleefully.
“Shall we have her take the Academy entrance exam next year? Or would it be better to bring her straight into the palace, Your Highness?”
But Greyan remained silent. When Rocard met his gaze, he spoke.
“You heard her.”
Rocard’s eyebrows furrowed deeply.
“Because she’s a bastard?”
Greyan walked leisurely back toward the guest room and said,
“I admit she’s capable, but I won’t allow weaknesses near me, Rocard. Since she’s already entered the Academy, go find her there—as a flawless and competent talent.”
Upon returning from the Amata campaign, Greyan found that the few remaining supporters of the Second Prince in the Imperial Palace had all been replaced. It was the Empress’s doing.
Rocard saw this as an opportunity to seek new talent, but the Second Prince’s standards proved unexpectedly stringent.
In the upcoming real duel, Greyan Tagar needed someone he could trust at his back. It was best to eliminate from the start anyone who might falter and fall at the first strike.
Rocard didn’t think his own judgment was wrong—but neither did he agree. It wouldn’t be too late to object after thoroughly observing this newly appeared, intriguing individual.
Events unfolded exactly as they’d predicted.
The next day, the capital’s renowned daily Tarjan published an editorial echoing Rocard’s suggestion, prompting the First Prince to depart immediately for Zebreon.
The following day, the newspaper reported that First Prince Orle had left for an undisclosed location where the Second Prince was recuperating, to pay a sick visit.
Duke Kaidel arrived at the Imperial Palace with the finalized postwar compensation terms only after the First Prince had departed the capital.
Thus, the postwar compensation terms were officially announced by the Emperor himself—a resolution satisfactory to all.
3. From the Beginning
Looking back, I never disliked the scent of medicinal herbs. After all, it was the constant aroma in our cabin, faintly lingering in Mother’s hair.
I started showing up at the town’s herbal shop once every three days, gradually shortening the intervals bit by bit.
The shop clerks, worried I might steal their positions, began showing signs of wariness, but I brazenly pushed my way in, bribing them with food.
Of course, the old shopkeeper liked me.
Whenever I returned home after spending a day there, my clothes carried the scent of herbs and medicinal ingredients. Smelling it brought me peace of mind.
I’d decided that if the old shopkeeper asked me to join the shop once more, I’d pretend to reluctantly agree.
Back at the Count’s manor, I devoured books on herbalism and botany. Having grown weary of studying over the past few years, this level of study felt trivial.
With Misha having entered the Academy, the mansion had grown quiet—creating the perfect environment for me.
By the time the effect of my food bribes on the shop clerks began wearing off, I’d learned enough to feign expertise and apply my studies appropriately.
My thorough knowledge of medicinal ingredients facilitated smooth communication with customers and directly boosted sales, so they were starting to give up resistance.
Seeing this, I wondered if I should have pursued this path much earlier.
One afternoon, a man wearing a pale robe entered the shop.
Though the robe looked plain and faded from age, I could tell it was made of fine fabric—worn only from frequent washing, not poor quality.
He glanced around the shop and asked in a soft, gentle voice,
“Do you carry Mandariosa and Kae-ddeumbuk-pul?”
“Man-da…? We don’t have those.”
A clerk passing by the entrance answered, and the man quietly turned to leave.
Those two plants weren’t common medicinal herbs. Only one type of person sought them: alchemists.
To think someone would appear right after I’d read about them in a book yesterday.
I hurried over and said,
“We’ll need to check whether we can source those alchemical plants. The master decides such matters.”
“Oh.”
“May I offer you a cup of tea while you wait a moment?”
Though surprised, he followed me into the shop as I gently pulled him along.
At an ordinary herbal shop, those plants would be unknown—but since I recognized them as alchemical ingredients, he trusted me enough to comply.
“How about some sword bean tea?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
I grinned broadly, served the tea, and dashed into the inner quarters.
A pleasant excitement, long absent, surged through me—maybe this was it.
Alchemists were so rare they seemed almost mythical. Because their materials were so specialized, a single established trade could lead to high-value transactions. This might be my chance to carve out my own market.
I explained the customer’s request to the old shopkeeper and asked if we could procure the items.
I added that alchemists, though poor, were the only profession that spent money like water—so the profit margin would be ample.
After hearing me out, the old man frowned deeply and asked again,
“Will this actually be profitable?”
I realized he wasn’t asking about profit, but whether the effort was worth it.
Considering the costs of establishing distribution channels and gatherers’ commissions, the initial investment would be substantial.
Even if the burden were relatively light, if the profit remained minimal, we should abandon the venture regardless of deficit or surplus—better to redirect that time and effort toward more lucrative opportunities.
I couldn’t know the outcome of something I’d never tried. But if I never tried, I’d never know.
I put on a solemn expression and nodded firmly.
“Yes, Grandfather. It’s alchemy, after all!”
My reply sounded as if I could transmute gold myself.
Grumbling something under his breath, the old man called over a long-time clerk and instructed him to contact someone who could procure what I’d described.
Such was the power of the distribution network he’d built over a lifetime.
I returned to the customer and said cheerfully,
“Since this is our first time handling these items, we’ll need a generous five days. Of course, we’ll deliver immediately if we find them sooner. Is that acceptable?”
He smiled contentedly.
“Alright. I’ll wait.”
The delivery address he wrote down after paying the deposit was an unexpected location.
When I saw it and widened my eyes in surprise, he gave a silent laugh and turned to vanish.
I’d never seen someone move so soundlessly before. For some reason, that absurd profession and its peculiar traits struck me as rather cool.
But as I looked back down at the words in my notebook, I wondered if I’d just dug my own grave again.
“Aah…”
“To Whinid Loiman, Third Imperial Palace Apothecary”
Male lead first thought she played hard to get, only to realize she
really disliked him
Short intro:
What she can’t stand the most is the streets full of effeminate men, especially that so-called top beauty whom she avoids at all costs.
Shen Yaoxing looks at Jiang Mingyue, who keeps approaching her with coy shyness.
Shen Yaoxing: Bro, don’t be like this, I’m really about to throw up!
She fears nothing in heaven or earth, except for him getting close to her.
*
At first he thought she was just using the trick of feigning indifference to attract his attention. Later, he learned that she truly despised him.
This dealt a heavy blow to Jiang Mingyue, and he vowed to make her, like everyone else, fall at his feet in worship!
***
Synopsis:
Before transmigrating, Shen Yaoxing only wanted to find a reliable man to spend her life with. Who knew that after transmigrating, she would become a reliable woman herself…
A forced misandrist, highly skilled, and reliable female lead
vs.
An initially aloof and arrogant, later morbid, obsessed male lead
_____
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How sweet are they!! I’m curious how well our ML will come to know Roba. I have a feeling he’ll know more about her than she does herself. And we finally get to hear about the princess Roba will come to support. Roba will be the “little lion cub” she raises. I wonder if she has the intention to rise to the throne. Or if she really has no familial bond to the second prince. I think Roba will come to believe the princess hold romantic feelings towards ML and try to avoid him. ML knows the princess just wants him as a shield and will openly pursue Roba, Roba will just this he’s trying to get her in trouble with the princess. And the princess wouldn’t support ML courting Roba because she using her as protection. And ML wouldn’t like that cause only he can protect Roba, Roba can protect herself tho. This is my guess, I wonder to see if this is accurate or not. They are so cute hhehehe
How sweet are they!! I’m curious how well our ML will come to know Roba. I have a feeling he’ll know more about her than she does herself. And we finally get to hear about the princess Roba will come to support. Roba will be the “little lion cub” she raises. I wonder if she has the intention to rise to the throne. Or if she really has no familial bond to the second prince. I think Roba will come to believe the princess hold romantic feelings towards ML and try to avoid him. ML knows the princess just wants him as a shield and will openly pursue Roba, Roba will just this he’s trying to get her in trouble with the princess. And the princess wouldn’t support ML courting Roba because she using her as protection. And ML wouldn’t like that cause only he can protect Roba, Roba can protect herself tho. This is my guess, I wonder to see if this is accurate or not. They are so cute hhehehe
There is an error!! I spent more than half the chapter trying to figure out who the “earl” was—> it’s her father, “the count”. I’m a little confused, is she back countdom or back in the village? The duke seems very kind. I wonder if the prince will want Roba as an apothecary, and will make the ML bring her to their side.