Mrs. Chandler’s Health Syrup
A syrup devised by a head syrup maker with forty years of experience, out of compassion for his hardworking colleagues.
It was almost destined to be quietly consumed and then forgotten, known only by those who worked in the palace. However, thanks to an astute investment by the Third Imperial Princess, this medicine made its debut to the world—or at least that was the official story.
The Health Syrup began to permeate the lives of the citizens of The State.
Quietly but swiftly.
Without discrimination based on gender, age, or occupation.
“Thanks to the Health Syrup, my relationship with my spouse has improved! My wife used to catch colds easily; whenever there was a slight chill, she’d cough all day. After working thirteen hours, coming home to see her sick just made me feel awful.”
“Once, in a fit of anger, I told her to stop faking illnesses. She cried, and seeing her like that, I felt like my life wasn’t worth living anymore… But thanks to the Health Syrup, my wife regained her strength. The coughing stopped, and her complexion improved.”
“When drinking the syrup, some people report tingling in their hands and feet and an accelerated heartbeat—but apparently, it’s a good feeling. Very good! It feels like your blood is flowing better, and you’re becoming healthier!”
A man was tightly gripping Mrs. Chandler’s hand, praising the efficacy of the syrup.
With a compassionate smile, Mrs. Chandler listened attentively to his tearful lamentation about how life finally felt worth living.
“In a family, harmony between spouses makes the children happy too. You should get along well!”
As she delivered this warm-hearted advice, the man looked at Mrs. Chandler with an expression of deep gratitude, as though she were his savior.
“Thank you, Mrs. Chandler!”
Of course, he didn’t forget to buy an additional bottle of Health Syrup, making sure to stock up on this essential medicine.
There were others who praised the syrup just as enthusiastically.
“I’ve had my self-esteem hurt so many times at the hospital. I try to explain my symptoms, but the doctor just gives me a casual diagnosis and a few herbs mixed in herbal tea—and that’s it! Not only that, the doctors never take the time to examine me properly!”
But one bottle of Health Syrup fixes everything, doesn’t it?
It’s better than doctors!
While some criticized inept physicians and promoted the syrup, others consumed it simply because it tasted good.
“To me, it’s just delicious!”
For this person, it wasn’t even about medicinal properties—it was used as a sweetener. The argument went that typical syrups are overly sweet and taste cheap, whereas Health Syrup somehow carried an air of refinement.
Though their reasons varied, the sentiment among those supporting Health Syrup was unanimous. Anyone who tried it even once generally expressed a favorable opinion.
The syrup was gradually capturing the hearts of the citizens of The State.
…
And someone was watching this success with a quiet smile.
A stout, elderly woman. Mrs. Chandler herself.
It had only been five days since she took charge of selling the syrup. At first, most people had been aimlessly strolling past her stall with no intention of buying anything.
To win them over, she’d peppered her pitches with a dash of exaggeration.
It wasn’t hard. After all, forty years in the palace had made her an adept liar—even if it was only the kind of harmless lies told out of courtesy.
‘This is just another harmless lie.’
And it worked. Now customers were lining up. In fact, some people were quietly turning away due to a lack of stock.
Today, the popularity of the syrup led to a minor dispute.
“Kid! Stop cutting the line!”
“This is a line? Even so, why curse me for nothing?”
“You deserve it. Shut up and step aside!”
“Fool, do you think I can’t tell you’re full of yourself? Let’s settle this!”
Two men, one trying to cut the line, were arguing loudly, on the verge of a physical altercation. The murmuring of the crowd grew louder.
This kind of situation was new to Mrs. Chandler.
‘They must really want to buy it.’
She didn’t panic. Instead, she looked on warmly at the two arguing men.
But she didn’t intend to let them fight.
Whether for themselves or their families, these customers were willing to patiently wait in line to purchase her syrup. After all, this product was known to be her creation. It was unacceptable to let an argument disrupt such harmony.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I will not sell syrup to people who fight.”
At this, the quarrel immediately ceased. The two grudgingly returned to the back of the line.
The commotion was settled in an instant.
Clearly, their desire for the syrup was genuine. Mrs. Chandler looked on affectionately at the now orderly line of customers waiting patiently for their turn.
Initially, she had started this venture because of an order from the Third Imperial Princess and for the promise of a reward.
But receiving praise from customers, watching people eagerly take possession of bottles of syrup bearing her name—it all gave her a sense of fulfillment.
‘Perhaps commerce suits me after all.’
This idea sparked newfound enthusiasm within Mrs. Chandler.
“Another bottle, please!”
The Health Syrup was selling out even faster than the previous day.
It seemed likely that, before long, it would reach a point where any form of marketing would be unnecessary.
***
Could it really be that this syrup would achieve such success?
Watching the Health Syrup sell made me think of another syrup. Of course, it was “Winslow’s Soothing Syrup.”
Made primarily from opium and morphine, this concoction was sold en masse in the United States and Europe from the mid-19th century for nearly six decades.
Practically every household kept it on hand as an essential medicine. Though the number of deaths caused by this syrup was impossible to count.
But in terms of its effects, it was certainly different from Health Syrup.
Winslow’s Soothing Syrup focused on pain relief and sedation for use on fussy infants, supposedly “calming” them down like angels. Although in reality, they weren’t sleeping peacefully—they were in a coma, fighting for their lives.
On the other hand, the third ingredient, Mahuang in the Health Syrup, had the effect of increasing the heart rate and improving blood circulation.
Mahuang itself was an incredibly potent drug. Compared to the stimulant it could produce—phenylacetone—these effects were positively tame.
Even so, the extreme sedation that caused people to drift into a “permanent sleep” might have been lessened.
Although I doubt Anais knew about Mahuang’s impact, most people would likely get the impression that “this makes me healthier.”
With improved blood flow, reduced fatigue, and disappearing pain, it would undoubtedly feel magical.
‘Not buying it would actually seem strange.’
However, regardless of its effects, there would inevitably be a burden on the body over time.
A human body simply was not strong enough to withstand the cocktail of opium, poisonous herbs, and Mahuang.
Elderly individuals might succumb even without prolonged or excessive use, while healthy adults might survive unscathed… But without monitoring their consumption and timing as in a military hospital, the risks would remain the same.
The one fortunate thing was that it hadn’t yet reached the mass-market phase.
Four thousand bottles a day. It was nowhere near enough to blanket even The State, let alone the entire empire.
It would still take some time for the Health Syrup to spread uncontrollably.
But it didn’t seem like much time was left.
“Sir Alan, it seems that the supply may be insufficient.”
This was a report from Baron Draghead, recently aligned with Siena’s faction, who had previously served Anais. Now, he was keeping an eye on his former mistress.
“Of course, there would be limits to what one factory can produce.”
“Yes. Our operatives monitored the factory around the clock, and we estimate they’re shipping out just over four thousand bottles per day. That’s with workers being pushed to work tirelessly day and night. It’s still nowhere near meeting the demand.”
From its very first appearance, a supply shortage was inevitable.
Four thousand bottles a day were laughably insufficient to cover an empire, let alone The State.
There was still some time before the Health Syrup could spread far and wide beyond control.
But it didn’t look like there would be much time left.
“Moreover, Sir Alan, representatives sent by Her Highness Anais have been contacting major candy and syrup factories near The State, and possibly even in other provinces. They may not be seeking full acquisitions, but it seems they are trying to commission production?”
This was because the Third Imperial Princess was already preparing to scale up production—and quite openly.
The manufacturing process was extremely simple, and any candy or caramel factory could easily produce Health Syrup.
Once the factory owners realized the potential of this syrup, they would surely join Anais’s cause willingly, even for the sake of earning just an extra Taler or two.
‘And once that happens, it’ll only take moments for the entire nation to be contaminated.’
Once this became a trend, it would be impossible to predict when it might end.
The history of Winslow’s Soothing Syrup from my previous life made that clear enough.
Even after the U.S. federal government banned its sale and medical societies began warning against its use in the early 20th century, it continued to sell clandestinely for over twenty more years.
And all that happened even during the era of widespread literacy and the advent of commercial radio.
The reason was obvious. It was convenient. Any average discomfort could be simply resolved with a few doses of this potion.
Here, in this world, the prospects were even more uncertain.
If left unchecked, it could potentially sell for a hundred years. Soon enough, knock-off products would start emerging. Some might mix opium with molasses to cut costs, others might focus on Mahuang exclusively.
‘It has to be stopped. At all costs.’
With the future so clearly laid out before me, I couldn’t just let it happen. The nation would collapse, and I wouldn’t escape the repercussions.
A few ideas floated through my mind, but there was no peaceful way to curb this. Countless people were already enamored by Health Syrup.
Even if we managed to reduce the harm compared to letting it spread unchecked, it couldn’t be guaranteed. The circumstances surrounding how this whole situation came about only further complicated matters.
Still, it had to be stopped—for my sake as much as anyone else’s.
But there was one thing I needed to do before diving headfirst into chaos.
“I need to meet Anais.”
The Third Imperial Princess deserved one last chance to back away on her own.
Despite her current role as a drug trafficker, in another reality, she was simply a girl who could have happily spent her days at the Academy.
Negotiation was the least I could offer. Once the conflict began, there could be no resolution as simple as “renouncing her claim to the throne.”
For me to act decisively later, this preparation was essential.
…
I requested that Siena arrange a meeting between me and the Third Imperial Princess.
“Do you think there will be any communication? Wouldn’t it be better just to plot how to kill her with me?”
As usual, Siena responded with cynicism.
While I had similar thoughts myself, meeting her directly would provide clearer insights into how to neutralize her.
“This is necessary.”
After reinforcing my demand, she finally agreed to help.
This meeting would likely be Anais’s first and final chance.
…
I asked Siena to mediate a meeting with the Third Imperial Princess.
***
For the Third Imperial Princess, Anais, this would be her first—and last—opportunity.