Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Of course, it's a flavor that older women and ladies are fond of, but that young girls don't care about.

"Thank you for your generosity, and of course, I am even more grateful to Sofby for her hard work."

Charlotte took a square cake from the basket, sucked on it, and looked around, searching for her other little sparrow.

As she wished, in the corner of the hanging chair, the red-haired young woman sat with her knees crossed, flipping through the yellowed newspaper.

Although the former's gaze was fixed on the oil paper, the corner of his eye was subtly glancing at him, revealing his inner concern.

The girl also noticed that there were no traces of melted snow on the food basket, while Sofby's skirt was quite wet, suggesting that the little peacock must have gone to great lengths to protect it on its way here.

Actually, the food basket didn't contain any fancy dishes; it was mostly ordinary pastries, sandwiches, fruit pies, and square cakes. Compared to what you can buy outside, it lacked presentation and wasn't as luxurious or refined.

...But so what?

"It looks delicious."

She licked her lips, winked at the little peacock, and said with a half-smile, "I can't wait any longer, Sophoby, what should we do?"

"This is for you. My cooking skills aren't very good, so please forgive me. I won't force you if you don't like it."

Despite saying this, Sufby's pink lips curled up slightly as she listened to the praise, revealing shallow dimples that looked very sweet.

It's quite cute, especially since Charlotte felt a little regretful knowing she wouldn't see that smile on her so often in the future.

Unfortunately, this is a case of saying one thing and meaning another; though one's heart is set on something, one cannot suppress the slight stubbornness of one's true feelings.

What a silly girl.

Stop teasing and focus on the newspaper Sophie is reading, noticing the key points she has circled. As Watson, the girl feels gratified.

Those were the techniques I used to teach Xiao Que—how to read newspapers and extract useful information. It seems she has taken them seriously.

That's good. Even if I leave, Sophie can still perform this job with dignity, just like she did back then.

For her, life was on the right track, which was why the little peacock was so oblivious. Even the parrots and birds that arrived later noticed, but she was completely unaware and continued to get angry with herself.

Well, there's a beauty to belated realization. Witnessing the suddenness of death firsthand always leaves a deeper impression than having anticipated it.

Keeping quiet is my punishment for your foolishness.

Leaning on the table, propping her face up with one hand, she casually played with the strands of hair beside her ear, sometimes twirling them around her finger, sometimes straightening them.

In the three days before departure, there were many things to do, such as telling those suffering people about their plight, the unspoken deception, and, as a kind-hearted Miss Watson, leading them to witness, witness the firewood burning and illuminating the ancient darkness, witness the overflow of blood wiping away numbness, and realize the irreconcilable nature of the established contradictions.

Of course, even with the help of the sealed artifact 3-071, she cannot guarantee that she can overcome the difference in sequence, proclaim the law to eliminate extraordinary existences, and judge crimes in the eyes and ears of the world.

If we cannot influence Sir Bathory's judgment, make him lose his temper and pull the trigger himself, firing a bullet and ending his own life in front of everyone, then we must prepare a backup plan.

Removing her felt hat and letting her silvery hair fall over her neck, Charlotte's thoughts were like ripples disturbed in a still lake, rising and falling with turmoil.

The little birds should have been passive spectators; they were too naive and lacked the courage and determination to harm the benefactor. Even if they were unwilling to admit it, among the people Watson knew, only one gentleman would understand her intentions after learning the truth, and even if he felt sorrow, he would tacitly agree to her idea of ​​helping her.

With her back to the two little birds, Charlotte slowly walked up to the old detective.

Using her body to block the other person's view, she pressed the revolver down on the table, handed it back to the former, opened the chamber, took out one of the bullets, and gently placed it under the person's eye.

Uncharacteristically devoid of her playfulness, she lowered her voice and said in a deep tone:

“Mr. Singh, thank you for your care and patience during this time. I may need your help one last time.”

Chapter 80 If you don't love, don't hurt.

As the bullet was loaded into the chamber and flicked to the empty slot with his fingertips, the detective and his assistant's conversation ceased.

Raising his melancholy eyes and gazing at the girl's features, Singh moved his thick lips as if about to speak, but in the end he only sighed.

Those few concise words pierced my chest like arrows, shaking my very soul. They were unexpected, yet somehow perfectly logical.

In his spare time, he secretly investigated the girl's behavior in the port area. She showed kindness to people, listened to their sorrows, and gave them hope. Just walking through the narrow streets, her good deeds were told to him.

Unlike the arrogant and aloof nobles, she was cunning and fickle, and her words and deeds were not always the same. Regardless of her true intentions, she always treated the despised and looked down upon laborers with kindness.

Singh still hasn't fully understood Hua Sheng, but as the saying goes, a gentleman judges by actions, not intentions. Everything he has seen and heard tells him that the girl is indeed a kind and compassionate person.

But Watson, how could your frail shoulders bear the weight of the world? Your youthful face should have been enjoying the best years of your life.

Young lives should not be sacrificed for suffering, but if that is your decision, as a less-than-ideal partner, I am willing to... pull the trigger.

He didn't take the revolver; instead, Singh gently stroked his pipe, a bitter look settling in his eyes.

Rather than employer and employee, he would rather sit at the table with the girl in front of him and chat about everyday things in tacit understanding. But, from beginning to end, you have never regarded me or them as friends, have you?

If it weren't for that, how could you make such a cruel request of me, how could you lead them out of the mire and then give up your life without hesitation, even if it was to fight for fairness for people just like them?

The stone fireplace provided warmth, while the chilly wind kept out the window, but it couldn't warm the old detective's heart and soul, not even a little bit.

Lowering his voice, Singh tried to suppress his emotional fluctuations and said.

"This Lematt revolver truly belonged to you the moment it left my hands, so there's no need to return it."

It is a sorrow that is hidden from view.

Without mentioning what had just been said, the old detective unfolded the newspaper, pointed to one of the sections, and whispered.

“The annual Flower Show is never peaceful. Yesterday, a carriage exploded along the route. Although no one witnessed the scene directly, many residents in the vicinity heard a huge explosion. The driver and the horse were instantly charred, but the passenger was nowhere to be found, which is very strange.”

"Sir, I presume that today's commission is related to this. Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought it up specifically."

Feeling the man's concern for her, Charlotte remained unfazed, simply putting away her revolver and offering a timely response.

As the passenger involved and the victim, she certainly knew the truth: it was nothing more than a gentleman trying to murder a frail young girl.

“You’re right. Yesterday, I received a request for help from a lady. Her sister died suddenly and without warning on the eve of her wedding. More importantly, the victim was in a closed room and there was no suspect at all.”

Is it necessary to include unnecessary assumptions?

The question is whether this matter involves secrecy or anything extraordinary.

"The investigation of any case requires the support of clues. These clues can serve as hypotheses, but they cannot be used as the basis for speculation, like a rootless duckweed."

The response and response together constitute a metaphorical denial.

"Since you put it that way, does that mean you have a general idea of ​​what the case is like?"

"Yes, the person who reported the incident was a dancer at the theater. Because of the Flower Show, her troupe went to Tingen for a special tour. In a sense, the victim was just a distant relative of the former, and happened to be staying there when this incident occurred."

"You mean the person who reported the case isn't taking the case seriously?" Charlotte asked, sensing something amiss.

"Yes, the 'King's Troupe' is renowned throughout the empire, and this visit is just another routine tour for them."

"For Ms. Falinge, the star of Florence, who plays the lead role of the opera 'The Dancer,' a relative who is not even a proper acquaintance is naturally not as important as the opera that is about to be staged, and there is no need for her to personally appoint him."

My fingertips touched the front page of the newspaper, and following my gaze, I saw that black and white ink filled most of the area, all to depict that beautiful lady.

"Fallinger?"

"That's just the most famous part of her surname. She's the youngest daughter of the Florence Dikbadov family. Watson, you come from across the ocean, so it's normal that you don't know about this opera family."

"They are like the darlings of heaven, each possessing extremely high artistic talent, and generation after generation have been famous opera stars. The currently renowned Faringer is one of the best among them."

A generation of exceptional talent?

If we exclude clandestine pursuits, Charlotte doesn't believe any talent can withstand the test of time and be passed down through generations.

Just like her predecessor, Miss Earnshaw, perhaps this also stems from some extraordinary path?

Lowering her gaze, she then focused on the front page of the advertisement. The angle of the photo wasn't very good; all she could see were dark blue hair and a white-trimmed veil, delicate eyebrows like those sculpted with a brush tip, and thin lips like those drawn with a touch of rosy clouds.

But even just this profile view is like a collection of all the most beautiful words, with its clear, watery eyes and alluring gaze that open the heart and leave one completely mesmerized.

Such charm! Even Charlotte herself felt somewhat inferior.

She boasted that Miss Earl's melancholy was a rare quality, but in terms of appearance, she was indeed no match for Ms. Falinger.

It's like a kind of magic, a strange magic that you can't take your eyes off.

Of course, the girl wouldn't admit it, nor did she care much.

After all, what did strangers have to do with him? Watson was only focused on the three little sparrows that had landed on the branch.

Charlotte glanced at Sophie beside her and saw her lips pursed and her eyes filled with melancholy. She then silently extended her fingertips and placed them on the back of the little peacock's hand.

It is a comfort.

This statement might reflect Sofby's earlier acquaintance with Farlinger, leading her to compare her current situation and feel a sense of loss and resentment.

But once you've stepped onto the stage, why should your gaze be drawn elsewhere?

The opera she painstakingly performed was dedicated to the birds, and the genuine emotions revealed in her sorrow were the final curtain, the most brilliant ending.

and so--

"The outcome of this commission is not important."

The story of the detective and his assistant is coming to an end.

The absence of affirmation is tantamount to acquiescence.

The old detective tapped the ashtray lightly, but the pipe, which was free of grass and leaves, didn't produce a single speck of dust.

He nodded, as if he had shed his usual worries, and said in a deep voice.

"Ms. Farlinger has only one requirement: to be respectable."

He got up and flipped the "Unemployed" sign over. Singh looked back at the nearby clock, and as he always did, put on his trench coat and felt hat.

"This case will probably be the end of this winter. After that, you can get a well-deserved vacation."

"After all, even I need some time to recover from the recent urgency and experiences. Once you get used to something, losing it suddenly will always require you to get used to it again, even if it feels empty and sad."

Gazing at the girl's slender figure, the old detective remained silent for a long time before finally reaching out to stroke the young woman's silver-gray hair, like a kind elder caring for a younger generation. However, this caused the girl to open her eyes wide and glare at him with considerable dissatisfaction.

Like a bloated little hedgehog raising its sharp spines, or a spoiled cat hissing intimidatingly, it slaps aside the grass and hisses hoarsely—

I don't need your pity.

It's her usual slight obsession with cleanliness.

Chapter 81 Foolish Lies (6k)

The horses' hooves pounded through the snow, producing a few muffled sounds.

With her pretty face tilted to the side, Charlotte let her short hair, reaching her neck, rise and fall with the swaying of the wind, unmoved by the street scene outside the window, closing her eyes to calm her mind.

"Hua, Huasheng, it seems we're almost at our destination."

Winnie gently poked the former's cheek and whispered, wanting to remind her but afraid of disturbing her friend's rest.

"Well......"

Seemingly unaware, Charlotte not only did not wake up, but instead lowered her head and lay down on the bird girl's lap, muttering in a daze.

"Winnie, your legs are so weak."

Her breathing was long and even, her nostrils flared, like a kitten that had shed its strength and was showing affection. Even when she was making meaningless harassing remarks, the girl's appearance still did not arouse any annoyance.

At least, Winnie couldn't bring herself to hate him.

"If Watson likes it, then I don't mind."

Suppressing the itch that ran through her legs, the bird girl's ears turned slightly red, and she confessed her feelings without any guard.

"I don't like this statement: people should live for themselves and not just do what they want to please others."

"But, Miss Watson, you're the same way, so indifferent to yourself..."

Raising her emerald eyes, Winnie stubbornly tilted her head back, and under that clear gaze, the line between truth and falsehood seemed crystal clear.

However, Charlotte reached out her fingertips and pinched the little bird's cheeks, kneading the soft flesh on both sides, making her choke and unable to continue speaking.

Winnie, your talent is becoming increasingly outstanding, but too much of a good thing can be bad, and such words are impolite and inappropriate.

Looking out the window, the morning light faded. After explaining the details of the commission, the old detective entrusted the case to him, and this journey was to the victim's home.

In fact, Charlotte no longer needed to worry about the firm, but even now, she still finds that, as a detective, Miss Watson has not yet solved a single case properly.

So, in order to properly conclude the detective and assistant role-playing story, she decided to take on a new case, make the most of her remaining energy, and enjoy the last bit of fun before leaving.

As for why Sophie didn't ride with her, the girl had already guessed the reason from the expression on Faringer's face when she heard it. They had known each other before, but now their situations had changed drastically. Even if they might not meet again, no one would want to show their disheveled state to an acquaintance.

"Ladies, we have arrived at our destination."