Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

"Sorry, I don't need a drink right now. You can go."

"Yes, yes, miss."

The faint reply, barely audible to anyone, was only noticed by the note on the previously given paper, which conveyed a sense of concern.

Diana's fingertips unconsciously traced the prescription slip in her apron pocket. The corner of the paper was frayed, the result of her repeatedly unfolding and folding it last night. A small sun was drawn in one corner, just like the smiley face on the candy coating.

"Dinah!" the supervisor's shout came from behind, "Don't stand there like a statue! The guests at table number three have been waiting for ten minutes!"

The young woman snapped out of her reverie and hurried toward her work area. As she turned the corner, she couldn't help but glance back. She saw Dr. Bella pull out a chair for Eliza with the gentlest touch, as if handling a fragile object; she saw the opera star lean forward slightly, her lips almost touching the doctor's earlobe as she whispered something; she saw the envious glances cast overtly or covertly by the surrounding customers. Everyone's attention was drawn to the perfect couple.

She suddenly felt her eyes sting—the doctor who would smile gently at unfamiliar waitresses was probably listening intently to every complaint of those who had come before her, just as she had once listened intently to every cough of the children in the slums.

Perhaps this is the sun, which soothes people with warmth and coolness, yet never leans towards them.

Chapter 186 Sweet Talk

A night of wind and rain nourished the forest.

The Raphael Cemetery now has another silent visitor, who died from a drug mix-up but was reborn in the ensuing plague.

Perhaps the world has forgotten the doctor who once stayed in Tingen in obscurity, and only remembers the noble, chaste, and virtuous Valenti, whose story was published on the front page of the newspaper.

But, under the drizzling rain, a beautiful woman with black hair opened her umbrella, bent down, and silently erected a new tombstone for herself, offering a bouquet of white chrysanthemums to the person in her heart.

Rain dripped from the edge of the black umbrella, striking the gray stone forest with intermittent rhythms.

Ms. Z knelt on one knee on the cold, damp earth, her fingertips gently tracing the newly carved inscription—each letter's indentation held rainwater, like endless tear stains.

'Isabella Valenti, an ordinary yet kind doctor'.

“You always said you hated the smell of chrysanthemums.” She murmured to the stone tablet, her voice broken into intermittent whispers by the sound of rain. “But this was bought with money saved up by the children of the Tingen almshouse… They couldn’t afford the Florence morning paper, nor did they know about those great achievements, but they were worried about your long absence and insisted on choosing the color that best resembled a doctor’s uniform.”

Bella in the tombstone photo still smiled gently, and rainwater trickled down the glass of the frame, making it seem as if she herself was shedding tears. Zelena's slender shoulders trembled slightly, and the umbrella handle slipped from her fingers, the black silk canopy immediately billowing in the wind like a dying butterfly.

“After you left Tingen, forgive me for not being able to suppress my longing and going to that clinic myself. I found traces of mixed medications, even though they had been cleaned up.” She knelt in the mud, her thick leather gloves already stained green with grass juice. “An accident took you away, didn’t it?”

The rain intensified, and the woman's woolen uniform, soaked with moisture, weighed heavily on her shoulder blades.

“I should have found out sooner…” She fell silent, speechless, subconsciously deceiving herself, “Bella, is it because of the deep-seated grievances and resentment towards me that you have become the way you are now?”

“Memory, mannerisms, posture—the only difference between her and you is that our past unspoken understanding has turned into openness.”

Her fingertips traced her lips, Zelena seemingly still savoring the warmth and lingering afterglow of their farewell kiss. "Is it that your departed spirit still harbors regrets, lingering unwilling to leave this world?"

"...Forgive me, I have no talent for romance and I'm slow to react."

A self-deprecating laugh sounded thin and helpless against the backdrop of the rain, until a clear, crisp voice pierced through the downpour.

"Ms. Z."

Zelena slowly turned her head and saw a figure standing alone three steps away in the woods, without an umbrella, her golden hair casting a faint halo in the rising mist. At the girl's feet lay a white chrysanthemum branch broken by the wind, its petals gradually being swallowed by the mud and water.

"Charlotte?" She tilted the umbrella slightly and, as she stood up, instinctively shielded the other person from the pouring rain. "What are you doing here?"

“I’ve come to visit two old friends.” Charlotte’s gaze passed over the former’s shoulder and landed on Bella’s tombstone. “My parents.”

Words that contradicted their true feelings were uttered on their lips; this chance encounter and coincidence were clearly intentional.

However, even if you know the truth and intend to let go, why do you still cling to it and deceive yourself?

It's truly pitiful, pathetic, and laughable.

“What a coincidence.” Zelena heard her own voice was incredibly dry. “I didn’t even know your parents were buried here. This is a dereliction of duty on my part as a superior.”

“How could that be? It was through your kindness that I was able to understand the truth and was no longer ignorant in the darkness. You are my guiding light and the direction of my heart.”

She picked up a broken white chrysanthemum with her fingertips, brushed the mud off the petals, and bathed in the spring rain. Her light-colored golden hair was already wet and clung to her cheeks, making the girl's emerald green eyes even clearer and more captivating.

She was already beautiful, but she also possessed a melancholic air, like a lilac blooming alone, captivating all who beheld her.

For a moment, Ms. Z was at a loss for how to respond to such a gaze and soothe the ripples in her heart stirred by those words.

"Want to go back together?" I felt myself mechanically extending the invitation, the voice seeming to come from a great distance. As the wind and rain intensified, the joints of the umbrella creaked under the weight.

"it is good."

Charlotte bent down to offer a bouquet of flowers, bowing slightly as a final tribute to her parents.

The rain clung to the umbrella, forming a transparent curtain, as the two walked side by side along the winding stone path of the cemetery. Zelena's umbrella remained tilted towards Charlotte, while the uniform on her right shoulder was already soaked and dark with rain.

The moss crunched softly underfoot, like a secret sigh.

"The clerical work at the arbitration tribunal..." Ms. Z suddenly spoke, her voice sounding particularly damp from the rain, "Are you getting used to it?"

“Easier than I expected.” Charlotte’s shoes crunched over fallen leaves, the green and red veins breaking into a spiderweb-like pattern beneath her feet. “Especially the files that have been handled by you; those detailed annotations always make it much easier for me to categorize them.”

What was supposed to be a simple expression of feelings was transformed into a lighthearted joke between friends by the thoughtful compliments.

The perfectly balanced atmosphere created a sense of distance, allowing both of them to feel comfortable.

How similar they are, yet how different they are.

Zelena thought vaguely about the angle at which the person next to her turned their head when speaking, the small gesture of instinctively avoiding puddles when stepping on them, and even their unique insights into file classification—these details, like scattered puzzle pieces, pieced together a hazy outline in her mind.

Was she reminded of someone else by the scenery, and couldn't help but imagine that person as the woman in her heart?

No, that's wrong. Comparing two people who are fundamentally different is disrespectful to either side.

She remained stiffly in that position, afraid that even the slightest movement would disrupt the delicate balance, until—

“You’re always so considerate.” Charlotte paused, gently reaching out to wipe the water droplets from Ms. Z’s shoulder. “You even tilt the umbrella toward me, even though I’m just one of your subordinates.”

Raindrops dripped down her blonde hair, forming small puddles at her collarbone. Zelena instinctively reached out to catch them, but just as she was about to touch the wetness, she suddenly realized—this wasn't Bella, not her best friend who would share an umbrella with her on rainy days.

"In early summer, the weather hasn't warmed up yet, especially on rainy days. You and Pedeline should be careful not to catch a cold."

She abruptly changed the subject, then pushed the umbrella handle towards Charlotte again.

Newly sprouted vines climb the iron fence at the exit of the cemetery, tender green shoots emerging during the rainy season. Only the rusty plaque glimpsed when pausing to observe the passage of time bears witness to this: Raphael rests here, and the cemetery was renovated in the year of the Age of Gods.

"what happened?"

It is a question of following the pace.

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking about how many unspoken words are buried here.” Charlotte sighed softly, as if her emotions were reaching their lips, “Just like how you always write annotations in the blank spaces at the edge of the files.”

The umbrella trembled slightly, but there was no response. After a long silence, another question broke the silence.

"After that day, has the 'Favored One' potion shown any signs of being digested? Will you still feel the restlessness and turmoil in your spirit, dear girl?"

“Thanks to you.” She slowly opened her five fingers, then clenched them into a strong fist. “Those whispers have long since stopped bothering my dreams and my life, like morning mist meeting the sun.”

"Aside from the keen senses and warning signs provided by my spirituality, I even feel that I have completely embraced the identity of an extraordinary person and am no different from an ordinary person."

"Ok?"

The slight nasal twitch in her voice symbolized the turmoil in Zelena's heart.

Pretending not to have heard, Charlotte then added.

“If Melvis’s definition of the extraordinary was not too far off that day, Ms. Z, perhaps I would not be far from fully mastering the ‘Favored One’ potion.”

This is not just empty talk, but a carefully calculated move. After Dr. Bella merged with the extraordinary characteristics of Sequence 7 and advanced to the 'Nest', only the tip of the iceberg of her spiritual ocean has surfaced. It is appropriate to combine this with a slight elevation of the identity of the original body.

At the very least, we can no longer be passive parties who are completely unaware of the situation.

The pursuit of the Church of Steam Supremacy contradicts the doctrines of the Church of the Primordial Goddess. The completion of worldly affairs and information also requires two-way comparison and contrast. After broadening her horizons, in order to get closer to the truth, she could no longer stand still.

Finding the next potion in the sequence on her own and learning its rituals is certainly feasible, but considering Miss O'Shaw's identity, she needs to remain a pawn in the Arbitration Court for a long time to ensure her safety. Quietly advancing in rank is definitely not a good idea, as she would be constantly worried about being exposed and would not dare to use her corresponding abilities in missions that require cooperation, thus putting herself in unexpected danger.

Playing the role was second nature to Charlotte. The extraordinary characteristics of the low sequence could not even erode her senses and affect her sight and hearing. Whether as an Arbitrator or a Follower, she had already largely accepted and digested the potion the moment it entered her stomach.

Therefore, her idea was simple: to showcase her special abilities in the successive missions, exchange accumulated merits for rewards of formulas and extraordinary materials, submit a special application to the higher-ups, and openly and legitimately make Miss O'Shaw an extraordinary being of Sequence Eight.

However, the biggest drawback of this step is that there is a fundamental difference between mastering potion-making in one month and mastering it in one year. While displaying talent can certainly attract attention and even make someone a focus of training, being too outstanding often draws scrutiny. She must find a convincing reason and a gradual process for it.

Her original plan was to slowly search for information in the remaining time of Isabella's body, and after making full preparations and absorbing all the information, present the results before ascending to the main body. However, plans can't keep up with changes. Merman's self-introduction opened the way with a surprise, not only allowing the doctor to save his name, but also enabling him to enter the fold of another church.

Now that she had been promoted in advance, Charlotte had no intention of waiting. She was not lacking in patience, but she was not willing to wait idly for no reason.

Clearly, Ms. Z's reaction confirmed Charlotte's prediction. The dark-haired beauty paused for a moment, and the water droplets hanging from the edge of the umbrella wove a fine curtain between the two.

“One month.” Zelena’s voice sounded damp. “The fastest record in the history of the Arbitration Tribunal is two months and seven days, and the one named is the Goddess Sword – Sylva.”

His grey eyes pierced through the rain, staring directly into Charlotte's face. "Good girl, are you sure you didn't hallucinate? Didn't you see any shadows that shouldn't exist at midnight? Even though I know you're not one to lie, hatred often fuels a torrent of emotions."

There was no further investigation; the inquiry remained gentle.

“Of course. Melvis and you have both said that the key to digesting potions lies in the role, in the awareness of one’s identity and self-awareness.” Her tone paused as she explained her insights one by one, “‘Favored One’ means, as the name suggests, one who receives favor and is blessed. It is a manifestation of good fortune, the completion of all things as desired, and the assistance of fate and destiny.”

"Since meeting you, Ms. Z, and since spending time with that lively girl, Pederine, both my future life and my involvement in the world have freed me from my suffering and given me a clear goal. This is a blessing from heaven, a manifestation of good fortune, and a small but fulfilled desire for me."

Charlotte's smile, with its gentle curves, was as beautiful as a painting, yet it revealed her true feelings.

"So I began to try to accept, to accommodate, and to understand where actions and words corresponded. Fortunately, I grasped that fleeting feeling, and then let go of the ramblings and the influence, so that I could set my anchor in the midst of spiritual disturbances."

“Just like this rain.” She reached out and caught the drizzling raindrops. “It may seem cold and damp, but it allows new buds to grow and take control of their own future.”

"Digestion is not only a process of compatibility, but also a gradual reflection of self-awareness."

As she finished speaking, Zelena gazed at the girl's rain-soaked profile, and in a daze, she saw countless tiny points of light flowing through her golden hair—a sign of overflowing spirituality, a sign that the potion was about to be fully digested.

“You are even more outstanding than I imagined…” the black-haired beauty finally said softly, her right hand unconsciously touching her heart. “Your spirituality is as steady as a stream, even clearer than many seniors. The Arbitration Court will be proud to have a member like you.”

"And you, Ms. Z? Are you proud of me?"

"Every member who has grown up..."

“I don’t want an official answer,” Charlotte interrupted, her voice clear, cold, and stubborn. “Just your true thoughts at this moment.”

Her emerald eyes shimmered like a small beast praying for rain. Zelena's throat bobbed slightly, and she involuntarily swallowed back the denial she had offered to wait.

"Of course I am too."

The momentary pause caused the rain to pour down, soaking Charlotte's hem. The dark fabric clung to the curves of her legs, creating a seductive arc.

"But this requires going through formal procedures, so perhaps waiting a few more months would be a better option."

A businesslike tone cannot reveal a sincere heart, just like—

"I want to share more of your burden, and everyone else's. I want to soothe the weariness in your eyes, because right now, all I have left is..."

Miss O'Shaw, who buries all her emotions on a cold face, is, at heart, just a young woman who has lost her parents and whose circumstances have changed drastically.

"you."

Chapter 187 Please Me

The fog at sea came silently.

At first, it was just a milky trace on the horizon, like someone breathing on a clear blue glaze. Gradually, that hazy outline expanded like waterlogged cotton, encroaching on the boundary between sea and sky. By the time it reached the dock, it had become an overwhelming white curtain, wrapping masts and reefs in frosted glass.

The gray-haired girl sat quietly in a corner of the pier, her feet gently swaying in the seawater like two small, silvery fish, creating ripples.

"Sir, are you troubled?"

The slender girl lightly brushed her black hair, which reached her neck, and her delicate eyes revealed both a cautiousness that allowed her to read people's expressions and a just-right level of friendliness.

Without responding to the person behind him, Watson simply extended his fingertips and dipped them into the sea, letting the coolness climb up his skin from his toenails, causing his body to shiver slightly.

“Troubled?” She deliberately drew out the last syllable. “What makes you think I’m troubled, Ansuna?”

“You’ve been sitting here for two hours, sir. The seawater is very cold.”

Ansu stood half a step away from the girl, her hands clasped together in front of her oversized suit. Sea fog dampened her temples, and a few strands of black hair clung to her cheeks like raven feathers wet by rain.

She lowered her head slightly, but her gaze stubbornly followed Watson's profile.

“Your fingertips have been tapping on the wooden board. The last time you were so silent was when you had a long talk with Ms. Melissand and when splattered blood fell on the hem of your skirt.”

"You're very observant?" Charlotte finally snapped out of her reverie, a half-smile playing on her lips as she examined her new toy, which belonged to both her and Watson. "Generally speaking, when someone pays excessive attention to another person, there are usually only two purposes—"

"One reason was that I wanted to kill her, and the other was that I had fallen in love with her."

"So, Ansuna, are you the former or the latter?"

The sea fog wove a thin veil, making the pauses in conversation all the more noticeable.

"You flatter me, sir." After a moment, An Su slightly curtsied, performing a less-than-perfect gesture of respect, and chuckled. "I survived that war thanks to your kindness. I have no right to love you, much less dare to harbor murderous intent towards you."

As the preface states, the uprising and rebellion in the Duchy of the Golden Flower were about to be quelled. In every city, there were still remnants of the rebels. Amidst the chaos of lawlessness and the scarcity of resources, the displaced people and rats who had lost their identities could only survive by gnawing on the flesh and bones of others.

In such an environment, despite her petite stature and low social standing, Ansuna's decisive and ruthless determination allowed her to seize opportunities and stand out from the crowd.