Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Author: Fu Jiu

Introduction:

Good news: dress like a Victorian aristocrat and live in several manors.

Bad news: In the blink of an eye, the family turned against him, his assets were divided, and he was thrown into jail.

Good news: He has extraordinary abilities and can control his external incarnations, with thousands of faces to fool people.

Bad news: In another month, the original body will be taken to the execution ground and hanged in front of the public.

In desperation, Charlotte completely cast aside her worries and just danced, treating this scene of life as an immersive role-playing.

[Miss Watson, the detective assistant of Tingen City, who solved countless major cases, exposed the true nature of class relations, and gave voice to the people’s cheers]

[A saintly woman of the Enlightenment Society, a wise teacher who reveals the truth of the world to the people and spreads universal knowledge to the people]

[The King who pacified the five seas and four oceans, rose from blood and fire, crowned by the Fierce King and crowned by the Pope, the Lord of Storms]

[Breaking free from his restraints, he opened his eyes again, and looked down upon the old god of the human world...]

A few years later, when I looked through the popular newspapers again, all I could see was her nomination.

-

This book is also known as: "Everyone is so different, who is still covered in thin ice?", "No one understands lifelong regrets better than me", "I'm sorry, I want to improve too much"

Chapter One: Gui'an, the World

December 25th, 31st year of the Divine Era, early morning.

The paper rustled softly as it turned over; the ink on the newly printed words was still wet, and a slight benzene odor lingered.

[The glory of the Hastings Empire! The steam-powered warship Danton returns in triumph, and the entire White Sea now belongs to Emperor Rothari!]

[The Floral Art Exhibition will open in two weeks for the Feast of Saints; we eagerly await the works of the masters!]

[In the Duchy of Golden Flower, conflicts arise one after another, rebellions intensify, and the crown prince and royal family members flee one after another, lying in hiding abroad...]

The words printed on the yellowish background faintly revealed the poor quality of the paper. Fortunately, the slender and delicate knuckles that pressed against the bottom of the page made it look much better.

"So, is this new life a script of chaos and upheaval as times change and great trends are about to unfold?"

"This is much more exciting than the modern world, which is full of hardships, troubles, and the struggle to make a living."

The gentle voice originated from the throat, containing little emotion, yet carrying a sense of melancholy, as if one had been sleepless for a long time and had just awakened from a long dream.

And indeed, this was Charlotte's seventh night in Tingen. Perhaps, the word "arrested and imprisoned" would be more appropriate to describe her current situation.

Looking out through the iron bars of the prison cell, the rows of low, pointed-roof buildings were already covered in white down, disappearing into the misty, swirling sky along the narrow streets.

Nearby, crowds of people wrapped themselves tightly in their coats, shivering as they passed through the dusty, narrow alleys. In the distance, towering chimneys billowed black smoke, but could not obscure the speeding airships hovering high in the sky.

The biting wind blows, the air is dry and cold; winter on the North Yanin Peninsula is just like that—cold, harsh, and full of contradictions.

"Big cities are a country's illusion; small towns are the country's reality."

She had heard similar words before, but now that she was experiencing it firsthand, she had a deeper understanding.

Leaning against the headboard, she gradually sat up, but this unintentional movement made Charlotte bite her lip and let out a soft moan.

Pressing against her chest, which rose and fell with her breath, she felt a tearing pain that caused cold sweat to bead on her forehead—the last 'gift' her predecessor had given her.

Slowly lifting the lining, although the light was slightly dim, Charlotte still touched the wound about half a finger long, which went straight into her internal organs, after her fingertips passed over the pure white valley and obscurely parted the soft flesh.

—The knife wound has scabbed over.

With a short sigh, although it had only been seven days since she had taken this body away, she had already gained a general understanding of this land.

In the bustling factory, hardworking people inhale smoke and cough heavily, while pirate ships cut through the waves, authorized by notorious outlaws, set sail and traverse the ocean.

This is a world that is similar to but not quite the same as the previous one, much like Birmingham in the Victorian era. Of course, there are still subtle differences that cannot be ignored, just like many churches that have never been heard of before, deviating from the scientific process of historical development.

Like countless hypotheses about modern history, people launched the Industrial Revolution, and the roaring steam engine slowly propelled massive steel structures, with heavy railways subsequently covering every inch of land available for development.

Production was liberated, the economy continued to rise, and a perfect era arrived with billowing black smoke. But for some reason, when people realized that boiling water was enough to control everything, the development of physics went astray.

The discovery of electromagnetic theory failed to make a ripple in the torrent of steam power. Instead, even larger machines were built, their internal structures becoming increasingly complex, eventually becoming the hubs of cities and the core of the world.

Despite their bulky and inefficient appearance, these magnificent steel structures inspire awe in everyone who comes into view.

And she, Charlotte Earshaw, the only daughter of the family, lived in such an era, a contradictory era of transition between the old and new aristocracy and the beginnings of capitalism.

Fortunately, riding the wave of history, the Oushaw family, originally commoners, found a way out and became a landowner, renowned in Tingen for their winemaking. Even without noble titles, their wealth meant that no one would consider them an ordinary family anymore.

Unfortunately, the moment she opened and closed her eyes, her so-called privileged family background and affluent life had already slipped away.

Without any concrete evidence, the court in Tingen issued a joint warrant accusing the O'Shaugh family of bootlegging and price manipulation. The local sheriff, like a shark smelling blood, quickly arrested O'Shaugh's parents and seized all of the family's assets.

The public execution by hanging was a public announcement to the masses. Under the influence of the huge gap between the rich and the poor and the overall propaganda, people spat and cheered, without even seeking the truth. They regarded the name Earl Shaw as a typical example and as a common enemy.

The dramatic change in her circumstances, the loss of her reputation, and the desolation of being alone were too much for this pampered young lady to bear. On the night her parents died, she decided to commit suicide. This also brought misery to Charlotte, who was handcuffed and imprisoned the moment she opened her eyes.

Based on her lingering memories, she was certain that the O'Shaw family had not engaged in such shady dealings. Of course, Charlotte would not blame the people who had echoed public opinion when she was down on her luck. In both her past and present lives, life was already difficult, and it was hard enough to keep oneself in the dark. Who would be so persistent in seeking the truth and care about strangers, especially the once high and mighty wealthy?

She simply despised those opportunistic people and was eager to find out the whole story to clear her name.

After all, this was the body she would use to navigate the world from now on, and she still cared a little about her reputation, just a tiny bit...

Of course, all of this is predicated on first getting out of the predicament and leaving prison, or at least being able to remain free and stand aside to meticulously gather evidence, compile information, and assemble usable forces.

Although it's unclear why the court granted her a one-month suspended sentence and even provided her with more conveniences in prison, including a separate room and daily newspapers to keep her entertained, Charlotte wouldn't simply let things slide without a sense of crisis, given this memory and the time and space to change her situation.

As usual, following past habits, I'll first create a character profile of my current 'self'. In my past life, I was mediocre and unproductive, but fortunately, I was given this life. Rather than being controlled by pressure, I'd rather treat it as a lighthearted role-playing game and play it as I please.

However, if one changes their mindset and doesn't understand who they were before, then playing the role will be much less enjoyable and will also make it harder to understand the situation and communicate with others.

The leap from commoner to rich reflects the transformation of one's old status. With wealth comes the desire to enter aristocratic circles, followed by cultivating an image and enhancing reputation. This is compounded by unrealistic ambitions and a pursuit of vanity. And when one suffers injustice and falls into their current predicament, feelings of depression naturally follow.

Looking back on her memories since waking up, Charlotte quickly defined her current identity simply—a depressed girl with no one to rely on.

"If that's the case, then it's a very convenient identity. I'm feeling down, my parents are gone, and I don't have any acquaintances or friends."

"However, the sheriff of Tingen City alone doesn't have the guts or the ability to bring down the O'Shaugh family so easily. There might be an even bigger tiger behind this incident."

At the crossroads of a changing era, the old and new aristocrats are using their positions to gain power and wealth, but who could be the biggest beneficiary of bringing down the O'Shaughnessy family?

The answer is already obvious, but without the final word, no matter how eloquent one is, it will still be of no use.

Therefore, Charlotte O'Shaughnessy herself was not the one who could solve this problem. Whether it was using a diversionary tactic to lure other nobles into the game, or uniting the people and using public opinion and faith to make a strong statement, none of this was something that Charlotte O'Shaughnessy's powerless, disgraced only daughter could accomplish.

It is indeed challenging, but it is precisely this challenge that is what entices Charlotte, a player who is passionate about role-playing and pursues enjoyment.

Putting aside the so-called extraordinary abilities for the moment, every scene in her mind seemed to confirm that this was just an ordinary parallel world. Besides, she didn't have time to continue sorting through her deep memories.

Because heavy footsteps echoed outside the prison's iron gates, and as expected, the same unchanging words followed.

"Charlotte Earl, even now, you still refuse to say those things? The master has been patient enough and really doesn't want to torture a lady."

The rustling of metal clanging approached from afar. A man clad in full armor stopped in front of him, his shoulders draped with a banner of two dragons stained with undried blood. His forehead was also covered by heavy armor, with only the slits where his eyes were visible revealing a hint of self-consciousness.

It's no wonder he was so agitated; the beautiful woman he saw was truly stunning.

Her light blonde hair cascaded down to her chin, with only a single strand hanging down her collarbone. From top to bottom, her tall figure and beautiful features were evident.

The long, fitted dress sculpted her figure like a tailor's blade, her full hips gently pressed against the bed, bridging her slender shoulders and narrow back, creating a graceful, alluring curve that curved slightly inwards.

What truly brought all this to life were her pair of dim, dark blue eyes, like a misty, swirling pool, reflecting the passing of loved ones. She seemed less like a pampered, sheltered noblewoman and more like a melancholy, solitary lilac in bloom.

"..."

She pursed her lips, remaining silent. Even after hearing the man's words, Charlotte simply stared at him quietly.

At the same time, her eyes were moist, her posture remained elegant, her chin was slightly raised but her fair neck was partially exposed, her dark eyelashes furrowed gently with each breath, and she showed a stubbornness when she was weak. She was delicate and frail, and I felt sorry for her.

Without uttering a word, the act of immersing oneself in the role clearly conveys an attitude of rejection and alienation.

This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision or an attempt to appear profound; rather, she had never known what the guards were referring to from the very beginning. Besides, even if she did know, Charlotte wouldn't reveal a single word in the current situation.

If I'm not mistaken, the things she should have in her possession, whether as knowledge or physical objects, possess extraordinary value, which is the real reason she hasn't been executed yet.

The older generation is tight-lipped and can't be easily persuaded, while the younger ones are more vulnerable and can be easily bluffed into opening up. If they can't keep their mouths shut, they might lose their sense of worth, just like their parents, or even fall into an even more miserable situation because of their appearance.

Seeing that the beautiful woman remained silent, the guard gave up on making threats. After all, she was the daughter of a wealthy family, someone a commoner like himself could not possibly approach.

Only by knowing oneself can one maintain one's own integrity.

He placed bread and cold water at the cell door, then stared intently at Charlotte's exposed, slender shoulders before walking away.

Only after the former had completely disappeared from sight did Charlotte wipe away the tears she had forced out from the corners of her eyes. In order to make herself look as miserable as possible, she even went so far as to scratch her scabbed wounds and use the pain to stimulate her senses.

“Now I am the only one left in the O’Shaughnessy family, and all my assets have been taken over. Logically speaking, I should have lost my value long ago, but why do these guards still come to ask me questions day after day, so certain that I still have that untold secret?”

Unless, of course, something can defy the loss of memory and be passed down for an even longer period of time.

Almost the instant the idea popped into Charlotte's head, a possibility came to mind.

—Bloodline.

Like the sun breaking through the clouds, in an instant, vivid colors were filled back into the frames of memories, and the mother's soft whispers in my ear still seemed to echo in my ears.

[To control a living puppet, you must learn to play the role, to break down the conflicts between different identities, to abandon the constraints of etiquette and rules, and to immerse yourself in the entirely new life you create and envision. Remember, the descendants of House Earnshaw are never bound by freedom, nor are they confined by moral precepts.]

The Earl Shaw family is not a clan native to Tinburn. They come from across the bay and, through generations of accumulation, have almost obsessively explored the unique talents within their bloodline. Ultimately, without ever touching any supernatural power, they achieved a puppetry technique that transcends their time and can be considered unorthodox.

Far surpassing the tangle scenes in movies and TV shows, it doesn't require fingertip pulling or distance limitations. Its form is completely lifelike, and as long as you project your consciousness, you can share the five senses relatively realistically, whether it's pain, pleasure, joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness.

By using a secret ritual and incorporating one's own blood into the creation process, the puppet can be transformed into flesh and blood tissue indistinguishable from that of an ordinary person, except for the necessary components. Even physiological reactions can be perfectly replicated, and some of the material's characteristics can be attached, such as the fur and ears/tails of an animal.

Tall or short, fat or thin, old or weak, sick or disabled, no one is unsuitable for the role. Even gender barriers are not a problem. The only constraint is that as ordinary people, their mental strength is limited.

Just like Charlotte now, even when she is fully focused, she can only multitask, controlling a single puppet while maintaining her own clarity of mind.

Unlike himself, who had been tempered by society and whose thoughts had been shattered, the original was too young and had a relatively weak psychological quality. Faced with the Earl Shaw family's moral concepts that were so different from the world, he found it difficult to adapt and was also afraid of the fantasy of having his identity taken away by others. Therefore, he was very wary of the puppetry technique and had an almost instinctive fear.

Therefore, at first, Charlotte was unable to unearth this memory that had been deliberately buried deep in her heart.

Her thoughts drifted back further, and the fusion of body and mind became even closer. She subconsciously flicked her fingertips, pretending to wind up a spring and rotate the axis. The muscle memory from sculpting dolls in her childhood transformed into a subconscious reaction.

[Charlotte, you're still too inexperienced. Use these rough wind-up dolls to practice.]

That was Charlotte's childhood, the only daughter of the O'Shaw family, a time of patience from her parents in nurturing her interests. But this part wasn't important to Charlotte; there would be plenty of time to fill in the background later in the game. What she lacked was a real way to break the deadlock.

The torrent of memories was still surging in, but it became increasingly sluggish, until it finally settled on a richly colored scene.

[Happy birthday, little Charlotte. Today is your coming-of-age day, so your mother has a very important gift for you.]

Gently patting the girl's shoulder and back, the woman with the blurred face held a dazed doll, pulling their fingers close together and merging their body heat.

Every puppeteer in the O'Shaugh family receives their first live puppet from their elders on the day they come of age. These puppets are creations that amplify a certain trait of the original body. Due to the original body's fear of puppetry, she buried them in a remote cemetery.

This very timidity, however, allowed Charlotte to evade the surveillance of others, giving her exactly what she needed: the ability to remain detached, to observe the situation from an outsider's perspective, and to manipulate events with ease.

A blank identity, an unrelated life—this colorless canvas awaits the application of oil paints, awaits my own brushstrokes to add a splendid and vibrant theme.

With the stage in front of us, it's quite clear what we need to do right now, so there's no need to say anything.

She rose and went to the window sill. With each step she took, her puppetry skills became more and more proficient. Finally, she spread her five fingers and pressed them against the cold railing, letting the wind and snow let the chill seep into her heart bit by bit.

Outside, the heavy snow was like a fog, indistinct and vague. The towering ancient clock tower continued to chime seven times. Some people looked up in confusion, but most of them were still in a hurry, busy with their own lives. In this daze, she felt her gaze rising higher and higher, as if she had passed over the domed church and was level with the suspended airship.

Like a spider weaving its web and surveying the world, Charlotte slowly extended her fingertips and touched the invisible thread that led her to her nest, hanging down into the city.

Click.

The rustling sound of the coffin being pushed out rang out. From the soil near the ground, a pair of slender hands wrapped in white gauze first brushed away the snow, then lifted a neat top hat and short silver-gray hair.

Like the protagonist of a play, 'she' broke free from her restraints, politely yet proudly tilting her head back slightly, and dignifiedly and elegantly straightening her back.

The high-top Martin boots kicked away the snow, and with a well-paced step, the newborn girl pulled a cane from her suitcase, swung it half a circle before tapping it on the ground, leaving two soft thuds.

"Greetings, world."

Ps:

New author, new book! Please add to your favorites and vote! Also, please leave comments below! ┭┮﹏┭┮~

Chapter Two: The Flower of New Life

She brushed away the snow that had been accumulating on her skin with her fingers, then flicked her sleeve, causing her knee-length dark trench coat to flutter loudly, revealing her slender yet exquisite figure.