Chapter 259

The young man hesitated before answering firmly, "Yes! Is there an issue?"

"Not at all. In that case, I'd like you to use this specific wood for my order. As for the design, I'll need some time to decide. Once I have, I'll inform your boss," Evelyn replied, twirling the scrap of wood between her fingers before turning to leave.

"Wait!" The young man's voice was laced with urgency.

Evelyn paused, then turned back to face him. "What is it?"

"I—I'm not sure about the size you want. There might not be enough of this wood available." His brows furrowed in concern.

"That shouldn't be a problem. Your boss can always procure more," Evelyn said with a casual shrug. "That's his responsibility, not yours."

He pressed his lips together. "The factory won't have enough either. You just... can't use this type of wood."

There was something he wasn’t telling her. Evelyn didn’t press him—instead, she simply smiled. "Honesty suits you, kid."

"Kid?" His cheeks flushed. "You're barely older than me!"

"Regardless, I'll be discussing this with your boss." She had found his weak spot, and it was amusing how easily he reacted.

"Why are you so insistent on this wood?" he demanded, frustration making his voice rise. "I can use another kind—it’ll be just as good, no, even better!"

Evelyn tilted her head. "If they're the same, then why can't I use this one? What makes it so special?"

Silence.

She stepped closer, her smile never wavering. "Or is there something different about it? The scent, perhaps?"

The young man stiffened. Though Evelyn’s expression was gentle, there was an undeniable intensity about her—something that made him want to retreat.

"Who are you?" he asked warily.

"Me?" She glanced at the wood in her hand. "Just a customer."

The scrap looked ordinary at first glance, but upon closer inspection, there was a faint, unusual stain along the grain—dried liquid from when the wood had been cut.

And it carried a fragrance unlike anything Evelyn had ever encountered.

Not synthetic, not blended—this was raw, natural, intertwined with the wood’s own scent.

She had seen nothing like it before.

Was it grafted? Like the wood she had once sourced in Silverpine Valley?

But in this industry, suppliers guarded their sources fiercely. They wouldn’t disclose where they obtained such unique materials—not to a stranger, at least.

Evelyn couldn’t ask outright.

So she had placed a private order, requesting this specific wood.

And now, the young man’s reaction confirmed it—this wood was special.

That was why he had chased after her.

That was why he was so desperate to stop her.