Heartopia Bookstall Price Database & Index
Note: This guide is regularly updated to match the latest Heartopia version. Last update: May 09, 2026.
Bookstall Buy & Sell Price List
| Preview | Name | Genre | Author | Buy ( |
Sell ( |
Obtain |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
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Note on Photography | Guide | Ataraxia | 8310 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Lost in the Forest | Fairytales and Legends |
Joan | 8220 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Town Tales I | Fairytales and Legends |
Anonymous | 7330 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Town Moments I | Fairytales and Legends |
Anonymous | 7190 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Genesis of Spirit | Fairytales and Legends |
Astralis Energy Lab |
8610 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Bigmouth Frog's Adventure | Fairytales and Legends |
Joan | 8500 | 600 | Bookstall |
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William and the Ice Cream Utopia | Fairytales and Legends |
Delro | 9560 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Li Zhen's Philosophical Note | Essays and Jottings |
Li Zhen | 7860 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Vanya's Diary I | Essays and Jottings |
Ivan Ivanovic Lure |
7190 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Atara's Diary I | Essays and Jottings |
Ataraxia | 7560 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Albert's Work Log I | Essays and Jottings |
Albert Jr | 7330 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Dorothee's Note I | Essays and Jottings |
Dorothee Morin | 7390 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Silesia's Notes I | Essays and Jottings |
Silesia Friedrich von Jaspers |
7170 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Fascinating Psychological Phenomena | Essays and Jottings |
Leung | 8170 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Emotional State | Essays and Jottings |
Leung | 7170 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Legendary Life | Biography | Thomas Faster | 10420 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Selected Quotes From Conor | Biography | Tiger Faster | 8420 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Theoretical Studies in Angling | Magazine | Ivan Ivanovic Lure |
8720 | 600 | Bookstall |
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The Last Ball | Fairytales and Legends |
Ximu | 9480 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Skysea Wishing Lantern | Fairytales and Legends |
Yuwen | 7740 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Forest Eco-Living Initiative | Guild | Patti | 7600 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Town Chronicles I | Essays and Jottings |
Joan | 9650 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Cloud Bedchamber | Fairytales and Legends |
Joan | 7250 | 600 | Bookstall |
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Flo's Garden | Magazine | LOC:-1006632009 | 2770 | TBA | Bookstall |
| Fishing Catalog | Guide | Anonymous | 2740 | TBA | Bookstall | |
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Gardening Catalog | Guide | Anonymous | 2450 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Realmipedia: Properties & Resources | Guide | Anonymous | 2400 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Cat Caring Catalog | Guide | Anonymous | 2870 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Friends of the Bird Ringing Station | Guide | Anonymous | 2840 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Insect-Catching Notes | Guide | Anonymous | 2480 | TBA | Bookstall |
| First Step to a Five-Star Chef | Guide | STRKZ | 2620 | TBA | Bookstall | |
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Annie's Essays - Part One | Guide | Annie | 2400 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Town Guide I | Guide | Developer's Guild |
2520 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Memoirs Through a Lens | Guide | Anonymous | 2450 | TBA | Bookstall |
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About Developer's Guild | Guild | Developer's Guild |
2470 | TBA | Bookstall |
| Romance at Dawn | Novel | Strawberry Cake | 2390 | TBA | Bookstall | |
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Alice in Wonderland | Fairytales and Legends |
Lewis Carroll | 2730 | TBA | Bookstall |
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Hernando's Travel Memory | Essays and Jottings |
Hernando | 2390 | TBA | Bookstall |
Heartopia Flower Database: Prices, Appearance, Potted (Furniture) & Bouquets (Item)
Heartopia features a wide range of versatile flowers. While planted, they serve as beautiful garden displays (Appearance). You can also harvest and sell them for Gold.
Once harvested, these flowers can be placed as home decor (Potted) or held to transform them into a Bouquet (Item) that can be carried and scattered into the air. Please note that the flowers will disappear once the bouquet effect is used.
Romance at Dawn - Heartopia Book
Tulip Riverside
Ming will never forget that night. After visiting her grandmother, she boarded the last train, swaying along the late-night tracks on her way home.
A sudden emergency brake caused a commotion in the carriage, jolting her awake from near sleep. Ming groggily followed the crowd off the train, only to realize the road ahead was temporarily closed for maintenance. Now she found herself with three or four hours of unexpected freedom.
At dawn, where could one go? Ming walked slowly along the quiet street, everything around her seemingly frozen by the night. A cold wind scattered leaves, and she looked up. Through the sparse branches, a crescent moon hung silently in the black sky.
Not far away by the Tulip River, a 24-hour vinyl music CD store caught Sue’s attention, and she hurried over. With a jingle, the door swung open.
Ming examined the music CDs neatly arranged on the shelves, his gaze finally settling on the one with the azure blue cover.
An unexpected touch of fingertips, her gaze met the newcomer’s unexpectedly. In those deep eyes, there was surprise, or more precisely, delight.
"You like Dionysus too?"
It was the man sitting next to him on the train. Ming had secretly observed the briefcase he carried, which bore the corporate badge of a famous real estate tycoon.
Ming withdrew her hand and nodded gently, her cheeks flushed with a rosy tint.
"If it’s not too forward, may I treat you to a cup of coffee?"
Rose Bridge
Ming skillfully spread the whipped cream over the cake base and decorated it with strawberries and frosting—this was the last order the shop owner had assigned.
To cure her grandmother’s illness as soon as possible, Ming had to take on extra part-time work until late at night. Walking across the Rose Bridge, she passed through the neon lights and shadows, where the magnificent hotel remained lively as ever.
Sometimes, fate works in mysterious ways. Just a fleeting glance, and a familiar figure comes into view once more.
"What a coincidence, we meet again."
It was that man named Sue. Ming felt like this moment was a dream—in such a vast city, they had crossed paths again.
"Dionysus just released a new song. Want to go listen to it together when you're free?"
Music flows from the record player, filling the entire space. Never before have I met someone so in sync—from favorite bands to movie stars, preferred artworks to coffee and pastries—it's like finding the other half of my soul lost somewhere in this world.
In the gaps between mundane life, Sue became like a miracle cure that brought comfort to Ming. He always appeared at the most crucial moments, dispelling the shadows deep within with just the right amount of tenderness.
The sound of the seashell wind chime signals the arrival of a guest.
Who could be visiting at this late hour? Selene paused from her tasks and looked toward the door.
Sue, rarely looking flustered, stood before the glass door. His reflection revealed his hands hidden behind his back, clutching a bouquet of vibrant roses.
Lavender Café
Ming pretended not to notice, going along with Sue's nervous rambling.
"How strange, why is it called Lavender Café?"
"What would you call it? Is it... Rosa Café?"
It was a romantic confession that came earlier than expected.
Ming accepted the bouquet of roses with feigned composure, unaware that countless tiny sparks of joy were spreading through her like the lingering chimes of a bellflower.
But this tremor quickly swept over in the form of another emotion.
"My family wants me to take over the southern project. It's probably a test..."
In her confusion, Ming pieced together the key information. She figured it out—Sue’s mindset when carrying that briefcase was different from an ordinary employee’s.
It seems everything has changed, yet nothing has changed at all.
Sue was still Ming’s soulmate, but the ethereal bond formed by their shared artistic hobbies was quickly shattered by all the glitz and glamour.
Ming wasn’t used to attending fancy receptions. Waiting for Sue to mingle with other merchants felt like torture—an awkward, out-of-place kind of discomfort.
"You’ve turned me down several times now. Been busy lately?"
"Rather than chatting about fashion and luxury goods with those glamorous ladies, maybe I should be holding a whisk and whipping cream—at least that way I’d feel… settled."
Ming followed the address the shop owner gave and delivered a large bag of packaged desserts to a certain manor. Unfortunately, Sue was there, every gesture carrying an unfamiliar air of high society.
Ming caught the scent of lavender carried by the wind. Unlike before, this was clearly a more precious breed, yet its fragrance felt sharp and overwhelming.
How can the gap in reality be bridged? By getting married as Sue suggested? Ming gazed at the sparrows chirping endlessly at the storefront across the street. Look, even the sparrows can follow their hearts freely.
Everything at Dawn
Ming hasn’t reached out on his own in a long time, and Sue doesn’t know why. The survey results for the real estate development project he’s in charge of have been approved. All that’s left is signing the contract to move forward.
Landing this deal would earn him his family’s approval, and reduce some obstacles to his marriage with Ming.
The moment Sue heard that some residents were unwilling to sign, she immediately set out. However, the one who came to negotiate on behalf of the opposition was surprisingly Ming.
"Protecting this house was grandmother’s final wish."
Ming and Sue sat quietly across the table from each other, gazing in silence for a long while.
Sue had lost. He couldn’t persuade Ming, nor could he understand why his lover’s attitude had become so cold. But Ming seemed resolute, determined, and unwavering.
"Let’s meet again, at the place where we first met."
At the same dawn hour, the moon had grown full, its brilliant glow illuminating nearly the entire night sky.
The river shimmered with light. Sue watched Ming approach from a distance, alone with his quiet sorrow.
Ming always kept his distance, yet couldn’t stop the fluttering thoughts. The misty night called heartfelt longing once shrouded the reality that should have been seen, until much later when realization dawned.
But some things matter more.
"You forget someone you were never meant to meet, while I forget an unexpected delight in an otherwise ordinary, comfortable life."
Ming and Sue’s figures blur in the morning mist, and the story’s ending remains unclear.
But faintly, familiar music seems to drift through the air. Turns out the music CD store by Tulip River Bank still has its lights on.
Memoirs Through a Lens - Heartopia Book
Photography Essentials
Step one in photography: own your own camera.
Don’t have a camera? Head over to the Town Hall and get one from Atara.
The Camera is as crucial as a toolbox, an essential item for experiencing town life.
Town Photography Basics
When taking a photo, stay relaxed and don’t let nerves make you freeze. Outstanding town photographers will move around, finding the best angle.
Photos taken will be saved in the album on your watch.
Not everyone enjoys having people in their pictures. If you prefer capturing landscapes, try using the first-person view.
Scenic Spot Recommendations
The sunset over Whale Mountain.
The Viewing Balcony behind the Town Hall.
Rainbow hues in the Flower Field.
The 2-seat on the roof near the windmill.
The little garden on Garden Street.
Music Square and piano square on Music Street, and the paint chairs.
The swing by the roadside.
The Camping Site in the Forest.
The Isle in the northeast corner of the Forest, is perfect for picnics with friends.
Under the Fishing Village Lighthouse, gazing at the endless ocean.
The Strange Cliffs on Onsen Mountain, and the gushing spring water.
The Onsen Mountain Stonehenge that may have witnessed the town’s changes since the Solar Era.
The Whale Statue in Central Square.
Friend’s beautiful home.
A subtle nook within your own home, or perhaps your thoughtfully organized living room and bedroom.
The rest is for you to discover.
Heartopia Foraging Database: Locations, Respawn Time & Sell Price
1. Overview
Foraging is one of the core activities in Heartopia that allows you to gather various natural resources scattered across the map. Whether you are a casual player looking to fill your backpack or a hardcore farmer aiming to maximize your income, understanding how and when items reappear is key to mastering the game. In this Heartopia Foraging Database, I have compiled all the essential data to help you navigate the wilderness more efficiently. This guide is designed to be your go-to reference for everything you can pick up from the ground, trees, and bushes.
Town Chronicles I - Heartopia Book
A Perfect Puzzle Night
Annie finally gets a month’s supply of candies from Atara and jerky from Falling, sorting them by color and type into seven glass jars. This forces her to postpone her bath by an hour, but it’s worth it. Now, freshly washed and ready for bed, she decides to reward herself with a perfect puzzle night.
She chooses the puzzle featuring the Burger & Olive and spreads it out on her Wednesday bed—the one by the window with a view of the moon, where the feather mattress feels just right on Wednesdays.
The puzzle comes together smoothly. The cockpit is beginning to take shape when Annie reaches for a dark blue piece—and her fingertips brush against something fuzzy and warm.
It’s “Miracle,” her clingy kitten. It has slipped in unnoticed and now lies curled right at the center of the puzzle, flattening the newly completed section beneath it. Its amber eyes gleam intently in the soft light, a contented purr rumbling in its throat.
“Miracle,” Annie tries to reason, “this is my command center.”
The proud cat remains unmoved. It even extends a paw to toy idly with a piece of the orbital module nearby, its eyes stating plainly, “It’s mine now.”
Annie sighs. She knows Miracle’s temper all too well—forcing it off would only end in disaster, like one swipe sending pieces skittering everywhere. She stares at the cat for a moment, then a spark of inspiration strikes.
She hops off the Wednesday bed, dashes to the kitchen, and grabs a piece of unsalted jerky from the jar labeled “Thursday”. When she returns to the room, Miracle has shifted position, half its body now covering the ship’s engine.
Annie doesn’t approach. Instead, she stays at a distance and slowly unwraps the jerky. The scent isn’t strong, but it’s plenty for a certain little glutton.
The tips of its fuzzy ears twitch. Miracle’s head snaps up.
Annie bites off a corner of the jerky and deliberately lets out a contented sigh. Then, she pinches the rest of the strip, places it in a bowl, and carries the bowl over to the Monday bed—the one farthest from the puzzle.
The cat’s purring stops. After a brief pause, it rises with feline dignity, stretches in a long, luxurious arc, and gracefully hops down from the Wednesday bed. With deliberate steps, it makes its way toward the Monday bed in search of its “tribute.”
Seizing the opportunity, Annie quickly restores the section Miracle had flattened and swiftly completes the engine.
Just as she fits the final star into place, Miracle finishes licking its chops, hops onto the windowsill. It tucks its paws neatly beneath it, and gazes quietly at the moon outside, as if the sly schemer from moments before was never it.
Annie looks at the completed Star Spaceship puzzle, then at the elegant silhouette by the window. She shakes her head with a smile, pulls a lemon drop from the “Tuesday” jar, and pops it into her mouth.
Guess she’ll have to prepare the “toll” in advance next puzzle night.
The Secret Meeting
Moonlight falls like a silver key, picking the lock of Epaphroditos’s dreams.
He knows he must be dreaming. It’s the only way to explain this. Here he is, floating like a Grimkin over his exhibition hall. Below, his entire collection has come to life, climbing down from their displays, walls, and shelves to convene together around a round table for a secret meeting.
Presiding over the meeting is the antique rug once laid before the Cat-Faced Sphinx. It too hovers mid-air. “Friends,” it begins, the intricate golden threads across its pattern running like living streams under the moonlight, “I am tired of being anchored to the same spot every day, even if the cat is adorable.”
“Wait a moment,” the Cat-Faced Sphinx stretches lazily, “doesn’t anyone realize I’m a lion, not a house cat?”
These are just mood-setting fragments of speech, not meant to be answered. The Sancai Horse continues, “I’m tired of standing on this bogu-shelf. Look at my form—I should be galloping across open fields, or at least sensing the echoes of ancient battlefields.”
The lady from the mosaic masterpiece on the wall leans out. “Well, you’d fall apart that way.” But that’s not her real point. She joins the complaints, puffing her cheeks before pursing her lips. “I’ve been holding this smile for years and years. Facial muscles—even painted ones—get sore, you know.”
“We must leave!” the antique rug declares solemnly.
Epaphroditos understands. A chill of dread shoots through him. They’re going to leave him! These treasures, collected with all his passion and guarded so carefully, are actually plotting their escape.
But the antique rug continues, “This isn’t a farewell, but a…”
It pauses, and all the collections—from the astrolabe passed down since the Eclipse Era to the popular novel signed by its author just last month—chime in as one:
“…vacation!”
Epaphroditos freezes.
“I propose,” chirps a small Mecha Bird, hopping down from the clock’s upper level, “the seaside! My gears need the salty sea breeze for lubrication, not this month-controlled cage!”
“No, the forest!” counters the Cat-Faced Sphinx. “I’ve spent too long in deserts and towns, never once visiting the woods. I want to feel moss and mushrooms, and see that Common Kestrel Ed mentioned.”
The Sancai Horse tilts its head curiously. “Why a Common Kestrel?”
“Ed says there’s a lady who loves birdwatching in the forest, and she’s particularly fond of Common Kestrels.” This time, the lady in the painting doesn’t dampen his spirits. She adds softly, a genuine blush tinting her cheeks, “I want to ride a hot air balloon and see this era from above.”
The meeting erupts into a lively planning session for the vacation. The knot of anxiety in Epaphroditos’s chest slowly loosens, replaced by a wave of profound, tender absurdity. They aren’t leaving him. They’re just bored.
Only then does he realize he has protected them too well—so well that he has stripped away nearly all their chances to engage with the world.
The next morning, Epaphroditos wakes with a strange impulse. Instead of putting on his white gloves as usual, he picks up the Sancai Horse with bare hands—almost reverently—and carries it onto the balcony to warm the cool ceramic in the first light of day.
He clears a new spot for the antique rug and runs a hand over the Cat-Faced Sphinx’s “fur.” The mosaic masterpiece is relocated to the garden-view window, where it spends the day. After winding the mecha bird, he places it on the windowsill, letting it sing toward a real oak tree.
As dusk falls, he gently returns everything to its place. A contented, weary quiet fills the air, as if they have all just returned from a grand journey.
That night, Epaphroditos dreams again.
In the dream, the antique rug lies lazily under the moonlight, whispering to the other collections: “See? I told you he’d understand. Ed gets us. He just needed a little… reminder.”
The lady in the painting shifts her shoulders and lets out a contented sigh. “I smelled the wind today. It carried the scent of the sea.”
Chef’s Special Salad
Massimo’s “Chef’s Special Salad” is facing a silent crisis.
In the kitchen, he works with alchemical precision: using only the crispest inner leaves of dew-kissed lettuce, tomatoes peeled for a velvety texture, and carrots shaved into translucent ribbons. His secret vinaigrette combines aged 10-year balsamic vinegar, extra-virgin olive oil, and a spoonful of lemon honey that dances on the palate.
Yet the customers’ reactions feel like a splash of cold water. “Tastes good, very refreshing,” they say, then push it around with their forks as indifferently as if it were any ordinary ninety-gold house salad.
A pang of wounded pride shoots through Massimo. He’s poured his heart into this salad, yet they treat his masterpiece like some common dish.
After closing, faced with the leftover salad ingredients, he makes a decision. Instead of his usual careful plating, he tosses everything into a large glass bowl and, with a rebellious gesture, dumps the entire bottle of dressing in at once.
He pulls on gloves, plunges his hands in, and mixes it all together—roughly, thoroughly, almost violently. But that’s not enough. A ceramic mortar is enlisted for battle. Lettuce is crushed, tomatoes are smashed, their juices merging wildly with the dressing. This is no longer cooking; it’s pure release.
Exhausted, he scoops a spoonful of the failed creation and shoves it into his mouth.
The next second, he freezes.
The taste… is completely different!
The crisp bite of lettuce, the bright acidity of the tomatoes, the sweetness of the carrot—and all the complex notes of the dressing—are no longer separated. They’ve been violently, intimately fused. Every leaf is like a sponge saturated with the juice, every flavor has found its match. His previous salad was a polite salon—guests elegantly dressed but keeping a distance. This… this is a raucous festival, a celebration of flavor.
Ahhh! So the issue wasn’t the ingredients, but the integration. He had been so focused on preserving each element’s elegant individuality that he had blocked the bridge where flavors meet.
From then on, the “Chef’s Special Salad” stays on the menu. But when a guest orders it, Massimo now asks with a smile, “Shall I toss it for you?”
Most nod yes. And so they watch as he pours the dressing over fresh, pristine ingredients and mixes them thoroughly with long chopsticks in a rhythmic, almost ceremonial motion. The sound and spectacle have become a pre-meal ritual.
The first customer to try the new version widened their eyes after the first bite. “Is this… the House Salad?”
“No,” Massimo replied, returning to the stove with a relieved smile at last. “This is the Chef’s Special Salad.”
His salad hadn’t changed. Only the way the parts met had. Sometimes, the best flavor doesn’t come from meticulous separation, but from a thorough, intimate, even somewhat rough integration. The true “special,” it turns out, was hidden in that one decisive toss.