Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Then she bit her lip, causing her eyes to redden—a seemingly strong but actually fragile act of self-encouragement.

"However, I will occasionally return to the cemetery to comfort the gentlemen and ladies who rest here on your behalf."

His voice was slightly choked with emotion.

"There's still a long time ahead. I will wait until the day you return."

After speaking, her long, slender eyelashes trembled slightly, and she shook off the tears that had been forming. She coughed lightly twice while panting, her face turning pale, as if she had just finished expressing all her feelings and was now breathing rapidly and feeling unwell.

No need to inquire about the situation or plead for her to stay; this alone is enough to express a frail girl's deep affection and reluctance to part with the former.

For a moment, she choked up, looking at the girl who was once as lively and enthusiastic as a little colt and almost bursting into tears. Hearing the words that didn't mention trying to keep her but revealed dependence in every word, Ms. Mosang felt a little flustered and guilty.

This child actually cares about me so much.

Unable to maintain her usual composure, she couldn't help but lean down and hug Charlotte gently and carefully, as if afraid that her low body temperature would frostbite her.

"It won't be long, I'll be back in a month."

The opening and closing of thin lips is a solemn promise.

"Yes, I won't forget."

After making a promise to each other, Charlotte wiped her eyes as if to wipe away tears, and then her smile became even brighter.

"Let's not talk about that, Ms. Mosang. Mr. Singh just received a commission to help a nobleman in the port area retrieve some abandoned goods. To be honest, that gentleman is really quite special..."

Having recovered from her earlier lapse in composure, the girl cheerfully recounted the amusing events of the past two days—nothing particularly special, just ordinary everyday stories.

However, often, it is the ordinary details of life that touch people's hearts more, especially after the beautiful woman heard about the location of the port area again.

A stark contrast to her initial calm, Ms. Mo Sang frowned, her heart filled with worry. The serial killer was still among them. If this girl, who had not yet reached the extraordinary level, were to encounter the former, how could she escape unscathed?

She exhaled a cold, turbid breath, pondered for a moment, and then took off an ornament from her right sleeve.

It was a string of silvery-white, translucent, and exquisitely crafted bells, with many ancient and complex patterns engraved on the surface, making it exceptionally mysterious.

"This is?"

“An extraordinary item, given to you, simply by gently shaking it and silently reciting my name in your heart, will give me a spiritual reminder no matter how far apart we are.”

Text message?

Charlotte was both surprised by the object's effectiveness and delighted that, through her role-playing, she had gained another trump card to save her life—after all, she still couldn't see through Ms. Mossant's true strength.

Although I feel a little ashamed, I earned it all through my own abilities, so what's wrong with that?

Thinking this to herself, she did not immediately accept the string of bells. Instead, the girl took off her felt hat, opened her arms, and leaped into the green field full of flowers, twirling several times. She danced gracefully and romantically, letting her clothes flutter, showing the lady her whole self.

Like a graceful swan, or a fleeting butterfly.

"Ms. Mossam, where do you think it would look best if I wore it?"

"Here, there, or...?"

Hair, neck, waist—Charlotte leaned forward, pointing to each corresponding part, as if seeking Mozanne's opinion.

In the end, however, she still acted on her own, acting coy and presumptuous.

"Just hang it on the right side of my hair, Ms. Mossan. Could you help me tie it up? I can't quite reach it."

She tilted her head slightly, revealing her fair and delicate neck and the braided hair on her right side, and made her request in a weak voice.

"......it is good."

Without any airs, just looking at this girl as radiant as a morning flower, Ms. Mossang readily agreed. Only now did she realize how unusually thin Watson was, as light as a fleeting breeze.

She straightened the ribbon of the bell and carefully tied a knot for Charlotte, making it into the shape of a butterfly.

"All right."

He shook his head, causing the tied bell to sway slightly and produce a clear, crisp sound.

Jingle Bell.

Upon hearing this, Charlotte smiled gently, a blush rising on both cheeks, a shy blush.

“That was lovely, thank you, Ms. Mozanne.”

"Well, see you next time."

Waving goodbye, the girl's steps were light and gentle, occasionally interspersed with a few skips, like drops of morning dew, silent and still. Only the bells in her hair swayed incessantly, their fading sound adding a touch of life to the quiet cemetery.

In a daze, the black-haired beauty wanted to chase after him, just like the heart-pounding feeling of parting forever with her friend, but her thoughts were overwhelmed by the last soft sound.

Jingle bell, jingle bell.

Chapter Fifty-Two: The True Culprit Revealed

Port area, Teddy Port.

The hoarse whirring of the carriage gradually subsided, and the clamor of voices mingled with the salty sea breeze.

Holding Sophie's hand and leading the little bird, Charlotte stepped onto the pedal and landed with a creak.

"Mr. Singh, you've finally arrived. Please come in."

Before they even got close, the butler who was supposed to be meeting them was already standing at the entrance, and he hurriedly came out to greet them when he saw the four of them.

"Is Viscount Vancent not here?"

Singh reached out and shook hands with the old man, then looked around but couldn't find his particularly conspicuous friend.

“The winters in Tingen are too cold. My master is naturally weak and easily chilled. He has to go back to deal with more pressing matters. Don’t worry, I will explain the whole story to you, sir.”

The housekeeper subtly defended her employer, opening her arms to reveal the bustling scene behind her.

Seagulls circled overhead, waves crashed against the shore, and although the sky was overcast, there was no misty fog. One could see the clouds rolling and unrolling, and hear the occasional whistles of ships.

The workers were busy but orderly, moving goods and arranging loading and unloading. They were sweating and carrying heavy loads on winches and shoulder poles, swaying as they crossed the deck and rested on the shore.

Looking out, a huge cargo ship is docked at the shore, its massive body gleaming in the sunlight.

It has the distinctive features of this era, with smokestacks and sails standing side by side, and several cannons and corresponding openings on each side of the ship's hull—essential for defense against pirates and fellow sailors.

"The White Pearl..."

Charlotte murmured the words written on the hull, her curiosity growing even stronger.

She certainly had a great interest in the ships of this era, and in the enormous man-made creations.

"That was a large cargo ship that the owner acquired from a maritime merchant and then modified. Not only did it free up space at the bottom to increase cargo capacity, but it was also equipped with cannons for self-defense."

Perhaps noticing the girl's absent-mindedness, the butler raised the corners of his mouth and introduced her with undisguised pride.

"The lower space?"

Although they seemed unrelated, Singh keenly grasped the meaning of the word.

"Well, enough chit-chat, please follow me."

Without a reply, the butler straightened his back and walked through the crowd of laborers carrying goods. Every time he inadvertently brushed against the clothes, he would subconsciously frown and show disgust in his eyes.

It was clear that he looked down on these poor people from the bottom of his heart, and as the group approached, the surrounding noise gradually subsided.

The dockworkers passing by noticed the butler's presence, as well as the girl's. Some stopped in their tracks, while others stared wide-eyed, looking at Sophie with expressions of confusion and surprise, and even more so at Charlotte.

"It seems to be that kind lady."

"Really? I was able to get through last night thanks to the modeling fee she gave me."

"I have never eaten such soft white bread before, especially since it was spread with a layer of sweet and sour jam."

Such gratitude welled up within Charlotte, and although she wanted to ignore it, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up in a smile.

See? Kind-hearted Miss Watson is a fellow countryman of the poor, that's how charming she is!

Even the old detective couldn't ignore such enthusiastic gazes. He lowered his voice, leaned closer, and asked.

"Ms. Watson, what have you done?"

"I only offered a small helping out in my spare time. A few pennies could give a gentleman hope for life. I had that ability, so I did it."

Charlotte nodded slightly, admitting it casually, her tone unusually calm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

However, the butler standing at the head of the group snorted coldly and roared at the workers.

"What are you standing there for? Hurry up and get the goods moving! Look at the snow falling overhead! If these goods get damaged by the rain, you won't be able to afford to pay for them even if you sell them!"

After speaking, the old man turned around and apologized to Singh and the others, explaining his earlier lapse in composure.

"You've made a fool of yourselves. These country bumpkins can't even do manual labor properly, and they've even caused their master to lose his goods. They're truly a bunch of good-for-nothings."

With impeccable manners and a humble demeanor, the butler's words and actions clearly distinguished him from the laborers.

Upon hearing this, Winnie paused uncomfortably, but Charlotte, who had been watching her birds the whole time, simply patted her shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

“Winnie, do you remember what you said back then? Nobles and ordinary people are no different, in fact, far inferior. You can be patient, but you must not feel inferior.”

"Ah."

Encouraged by this, the bird girl raised her head again, no longer bothered by her surroundings.

Arriving at the appropriate berth, crossing the gangway that rose and fell with the waves, and after several turns, they finally stepped onto the deck of the White Pearl.

"This is the place. Everyone involved in the theft this morning, who caused trouble, and who came close is here. To be honest, if you bastards could step forward and tell us where the stolen goods are, you'd be spared some punishment. But once this gentleman finds them, things won't be so pleasant for you."

Without any hesitation, he raised his finger, spitting as he spoke, and with every word he uttered, he seemed intent on poking someone's nose.

"Alright, sir, not all of them are criminals. Solving the truth requires everyone's cooperation, and patience is the most effective tool."

Interrupting his preamble, Singh frowned slightly, clearly displeased.

To be honest, the butler's words caused him a lot of trouble. When a detective's identity is so revealed, others will instinctively become wary.

"Well, whatever you say, Mr. Singh."

Instead of immediately asking questions, they first surveyed their surroundings. The ship's cabin was in a state of disarray, with tangled hemp ropes soaked in water and tangled together. A musty stench and dampness permeated the entire vessel, and they could even see some filth that had not yet been washed away.

Some of the cargo, wrapped in wooden crates, is still piled up on the deck. The shipping tax information and its origin and destination are written on the surface of the packaging. Most of the cargo consists of tobacco, alcohol and tea, as well as some technical terms that Charlotte does not recognize.

But the deep wrinkles on the old detective's forehead revealed that it was no ordinary cargo.

"Has any of the goods that were moved been shipped out of the dock yet?"

He bent down and tapped the partition under his feet to confirm it was hollow. After a moment's thought, Singh asked the butler.

"Absolutely not. At this time, we just move all the cargo from the ship's hold to the shore first, and after counting it, we transport it in batches according to different types."

"So, the missing cargo is still somewhere at the dock, and you haven't searched it carefully?"

“Oh, sir, if it could be found so easily, we wouldn’t have needed to invite you, the great detective.”

With their own calculations in mind, both the old detective and Charlotte had a general idea, the key being the location and space.

Without inquiring about the details of the incident, they first looked at the person involved who was standing at the head of the group.

"He's the cargo hold supervisor here. Viscount Vancent hired this gentleman on a temporary basis three days ago..."

The butler's explanation echoed in their ears, but no one listened to his statement anymore.

Withered, slightly curly green hair, beast-like deep brown eyes, slightly drooping corners of the mouth, a solitary and gloomy temperament... details one by one entered the girl's eyes, gradually overlapping with the image of the person in the morning photograph.

Hired three days ago, the timing is right, he used to be a seaman, his identity matches, his height and facial features are similar, and his appearance is consistent.

It's him!

That's the person suspected of being the murderer.

—Voun Gerald.

Chapter Fifty-Three 'The Magician'

Without uttering a word, the old detective moved his lips, feeling a slight dryness in his mouth.

In ordinary cases, it would be fortunate to find the real culprit by chance. However, the lady mentioned that it involved a hidden level of crime, which was extremely dangerous for ordinary people.

He glanced sideways at his assistant and saw Watson nod slightly, returning the glance knowingly. The old detective was relieved and looked at the man without changing his expression.

"Hello, Detective Singh."

Not noticing anything amiss, Vaughn grinned and shook hands with Singh briefly as a sign of courtesy.

At the same moment, Charlotte also grasped the little peacock's slender hand, interlocking their fingers tightly, which also eased the tension in his body slightly.