As soon as Kang Bo and Ruhi passed the Dhampatnan border, distinct aromas of various spices rushed to their noses. The raw materials from all over Dhampatna arrive and get milled by the local community. Dry roots, tree bark, and various seeds are processed by hand and shipped out to the north, where they end up in the meals of those who can afford them.
Something so pricey everywhere else is dirt cheap in Dhampatna, to the point where it's a staple of every meal.
Dhampatnan merchants sit in restaurants and complain about deteriorating security conditions in both the Wen Dynasty and the Yao Dynasty. In the distance, a bunch of untouchable caste individuals mill spices for copper coins, barely enough for a meal for the day. Yet they are still happy to see the coinage. For those who find the pay inadequate, the mill owner sneers and tells them to make do. Who else is going to hire them if not her? They should be grateful.
