Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Somewhat flustered, Eliza raised her handkerchief to wipe away the bloodstains, her face unusually pale.

She turned her back, not wanting others to witness her disrespect, and even the tone of her voice as she saw her off became much colder.

"I have prepared a carriage for your return journey. Please forgive any shortcomings in our hospitality."

After saying this, the neatly dressed coachman put down the pedals, welcomed the girls into the carriage, and whipped the horse to go.

When I arrived, the sun was shining brightly; when I left, the sky was already dusky and snow was pouring down.

At this time, the agency has already temporarily closed for business, and there's no need to make a special trip back; I just wanted to let the old detective know I'm safe.

Sitting quietly inside the car, Charlotte leaned against the soft wool-lined backrest, closed her eyes, and listened to the crunching of the snow and the wheels pressing against the road.

With the detective role concluded, the young girl can now contentedly unveil the opera's curtain and revel in the ensuing performance.

"Winnie, you did a great job today!"

"Thank you, thank you..."

It was just an ordinary compliment, but blush still spread across the girl's cheeks, showing how pleased she was.

She strives to improve herself and gain recognition, but for the sake of just one person in front of her, she always lacks the necessary resistance to Watson.

However, the more the bird thought about it, the more it recalled its departure that day, and sorrow and loss overwhelmed its satisfaction, flooding its heart.

She was reluctant, she didn't want to, but as a little bird that had received kindness, how could she hold back the falling tree, how could she repay the kindness she had shown on the branches?

She could only clutch the hem of her clothes, praying for another meeting, hoping that she could become a swan and attract the peony's favor.

I will do it, I definitely will. If that time comes, Watson, will I receive your sincere praise?

There was no reply, and they bid farewell. The torrential snow turned into a white curtain, engulfing the crisscrossing streets and alleys of Tingen. The flying snow hit the muddy ground, splashing dirt with a pattering sound.

As dusk settled, a tall, spirited horse galloped towards the harbor, its hooves trailing trails of catkins.

The glass surface of the lantern suspended from the handlebars was covered by the slid-down snowmelt, causing its light to become blurry and distorted from the inside out, appearing hazy and indistinct as it approached.

Before long, the carriage came to a slow stop, the creaking sound disappeared, the door was opened, and snowflakes drifted in from outside, wetting the expensive carpet.

It remains the same safe haven it always was, still the same suffering people huddled and lying on their sides, and still the red-haired girl who sets up her easel and begins to sketch.

As Watson, she rushed to keep the appointment.

As if by telepathy, the little peacock, who had been waiting for her beloved to return, paused at the tip of her pen, raised her snowy neck, and precisely found her home among several carriages.

Walking and running, like a flower in the morning sun, she carried a lantern in one hand and an umbrella in the other. The lantern could not illuminate the road but only her pretty face, and the umbrella could not shield her from the snow but only Charlotte's figure as she walked out.

"Josephine..."

"Sophie".

Once, as night deepened, she lowered her umbrella to create a new home for the birds; now, the birds, grateful for her kindness, are doing everything they can to repay her.

At that moment, Charlotte looked at the little peacock, watching her cry and tear apart her disguise, begging for a ray of sunshine, and felt that she was just like a sunflower, searching for her own sun in this gloomy snowy night.

How can the sun be seen when the clouds are so heavy? Huge snowflakes have scattered it into pieces.

Now, on the eve of parting, even someone as wicked as Charlotte would hate herself for some of the things she did.

Because she lied, initially claiming to be the sun, the only salvation.

Walking along the road, with Little Sparrow's eyes full of concern, Charlotte looked down at the uneven footprints behind her, belonging to both of them, and suddenly felt a pang of regret and remorse.

How could a rotten and incurable black flower become the sun that shines on each other? Even though the world is over, even though there's no need to care about the past, she still lied from the very beginning...

If they were to part ways here, she would surely see the little peacock's face, a mask of laughter and tears, a face that looked utterly ugly.

Should I? Should I be honest?

...Never mind, it's just a game, why take it so seriously?

It was a lie, to her and to himself.

Chapter 82 The Last Time

"Aren't you going to ask me about the details of the case I handled today? Or, won't you ask why I'm late?"

Charlotte suddenly spoke up.

The sound flowed quietly through the cold snowy night, like the crisp sound of jade stones gently colliding, or like the beaded curtain dripping from the edge of a black umbrella.

After getting off the carriage, I looked up and saw the boundless night sky.

The twilight was too deep, and the moon was obscured by the long, dark clouds, leaving only the lone figure of the person who had not yet returned home walking alone.

Parallel along the street lined with rows of lampposts, the silver-haired girl took the little peacock's hand and swayed on the edge of the intersection of the sidewalk and the road, relying on Sophoby to maintain her balance whenever she was about to fall.

It was under these circumstances that she casually asked the preface.

However, there was no response. The little peacock simply opened its umbrella, silently shielding its sun from the cold snowy night.

Snowflakes fell like cotton, and the cold tide swept across the land. Halfway through the journey, Charlotte, unable to bear the loneliness, pursed her pink lips and, with a touch of coquettishness, said...

"Ask away, ask away~"

Even the hardest heart can't resist the allure of sweet words.

Sophoby glanced at Charlotte, seeing the shimmering light in her clear eyes and her slender figure swaying, and couldn't help but reach out and pull the girl, who was about to lose her balance, back up.

"It's pointless to ask, Josephine, you'll always have some reason."

That's true. After so many times, even a slow-witted little peacock could vaguely discern Watson's cunning.

But she said it so naturally. What kind of person is Charlotte? If you lead her east, she'll insist on going west; if you let go of her hand, she'll insist on taking your finger. She's awkward and difficult to deal with, so of course she won't accept what her little bird says.

So she reached out and placed her hand on Sophie's waist, gently pressing it down. Then she leaned in and affectionately nuzzled the little peacock's neck and shoulder, whispering in her ear.

"Then I won't make excuses. I'll just say I'm late because I was so captivated by that Ms. Farlinger that I forgot the time. How about that?"

"Humph."

With a soft hum, Sophie didn't dodge. She simply released her friend's hand, stood on tiptoe, and tapped Charlotte's hair, easily pushing the girl down onto the lower side of the road.

She said coldly:

"It doesn't matter. Being late is fine, meeting is fine. I don't know Ms. Farlinger. If you have no intention of keeping your promise, then I will not wait here in this bitter cold."

The sound clearly carried a hint of jealousy, along with dissatisfaction and complaints. Of course, it also contained a lot of awkward concern and coquettishness.

Charlotte noticed, of course, but she stepped back onto the curb and muttered something under her breath.

"It's a pity you didn't come, Sufby. That Ms. Farlinger actually went to the theater to report on the rehearsal and waited patiently for our visit."

"Even though she's a legendary opera star, she's gentle and kind. With impeccable manners and stunning beauty, what a lovely woman she is. Sophie, if only you had met her in Florence before. Ah, I didn't have much to talk about with her."

The little peacock initially thought Watson was just indulging in idle chatter and making light of things, but when she saw the regret on his face, she paused for a moment, her pink lips trembling slightly, and a wave of bitterness washed over her.

She did know Faringer; they were once two shining stars in Florence's high society, often compared and talked about.

But now...

Twisting her old clothes and looking at her wrinkled fingers, Sufby tried to treat it as a casual joke, as Watson was deliberately teasing her, just like always... But considering the two situations, even if it was a joke, it was enough to make her heart ache.

Clearly, she had revealed everything to Watson; clearly, the girl before him knew herself better than anyone else; clearly, she said she wanted to be her own sun...

Amidst the sourness, even the corners of her eyes shimmered with tears, and her words became choked with emotion.

"She will be performing at the Tingen theater in five days. If you are interested, you can go and check it out then."

He clung tightly to his arms and strode forward, his calm demeanor a result of intense suppression.

However, the girl's next words made her stop in her tracks.

"I won't go."

Speaking clearly, Charlotte turned her head to look at the endless street and the emaciated people.

She didn't speak again. She lowered her eyelids, and all she could hear was the soft sound of rain and snow falling on the umbrella, and the faces illuminated by the flickering firelight.

After a long time, long enough for the flying catkins to settle on her vest and form a clean white layer, the girl finally caught up with her little bird.

"I will never use that tone to upset you again, not now, and not ever again."

It is both the truth and a lie.

Charlotte's wickedness is multifaceted, just as she enjoys watching people die in various ways, because that gives her satisfaction, just like now.

She knew that in this strange world, the little peacock cared about her more than anyone else, and she could imagine the scene when the longed-for sunrise set, and when Watson gave his life for those suffering similar to her. "No, why, why Josephine of all people, why is it like this!" She could even add a dramatic tone to the little bird that depended on her and was used to her.

But the girl did it anyway, because Watson was a good girl who cared about people and was willing to sacrifice herself, and because Charlotte was a deeply sinful player who fooled humanity.

So she opened her arms wide, like every pure and innocent girl who longs for friendship, like every departed person who, even at the end of their journey, still cherishes a trace of warmth.

she says:

"Sophie, can you hug me?"

The girl's voice was as soft as goose down. The little peacock stared blankly at Charlotte, looking puzzled.

It was the first time she had ever seen someone plead with her, and she had seen the sun set behind the mountains, falling right in front of her, as if she could touch it with her own hand.

She moved her lips, as if she wanted to ask something; she felt the passing of certain things, but in the end, she pursed her lips and asked nothing.

Just take a deep breath, just quietly close your eyes, and then the wind becomes noisy, the clouds disappear, and a lone bird flaps its wings, lands on a branch that carries peace of mind, and flies into the arms of the silver-haired girl.

"Thanks......"

Charlotte held her tightly, whispering in her ear her heartfelt words.

"Thank you for making me feel the warmth of friendship and the joy of being cared for by others."

I felt a sense of peace and tranquility, free from suspicion and betrayal, living a simple yet beautiful life.

"I hope you won't blame me for my previous deliberate efforts and verification."

I hope you won't blame me for leaving without saying goodbye, so quietly.

"..."

Unable to utter a word, seeing those clear silver eyes and that undisguised sincerity, Sufby felt as if she had obtained something she had always dreamed of, her heart melting with joy and daze.

She gently offered her lips for a kiss, but Charlotte secretly lowered her fingertips to her lips and took out a penny from her purse, just like when their relationship changed from an initial employer-employee relationship to a consensual one.

Like another ethereal dream, it transformed into a feather falling from the sky, fluttering, rising and falling, landing in the girl's palm, and sinking into this misty city.

“My commission is over, Sophie. Just like I said back then, you no longer need to expend your energy and precious nights on this cheap work.”

The silver-haired girl looked up at the buildings and eaves, the floating clouds and thick fog, and the myriad aspects of human life. She peeled off the unfinished scroll from her easel and placed it together with the sketches she had accumulated before, forming a thick stack.

"Without realizing it, we've already accumulated so much, Sophie. Can I ask you for one last favor?"

She let go of his hand, turned her back, and resolutely and without hesitation walked towards that sheltered corner, towards those thin and weary people.

"Please paint one last picture for me, for them, and for you."

Chapter 83 A Parting Kiss

Snowflakes flutter like cotton, ink strokes shine, the interplay of light and dark colors, and the fusion of varying depths of night fog.

In a secluded haven, a silver-haired girl stands among the people, opening her arms to bestow kindness upon them, and lowering her pretty face to offer comfort and solace.

A delicate stroke of her pale fingertips brought the finishing touch to the painting, and a fine line was gently lifted from her shimmering hair. Watson and the little bird's request was fulfilled in this final painting.

Despite her friend's absence, Sophie was moved by that small selfishness and that humble plea. For the first time, she picked up colored paint and, stroke by stroke, painted the warm scene of her friend and herself walking together under an umbrella on a snowy night.

No words are needed; a mere glance is enough to quietly enjoy all the tenderness in the world.

Pressing the coin into his palm and treasuring it in his heart, the little peacock believed that the end of the commission was not a farewell, but rather the abandonment of debts and a declaration that from now on, life would truly belong to us.

Whether it's windy or rainy, whether you're in a couple or not...

Looking back now, it feels just like the first time we met.

So, Sufby sweetly narrowed her eyes into slits, her long, dark eyelashes trembling gently in the evening breeze.

What will their future hold?

With extraordinary support, mutual trust, and tender feelings, things will surely be better and more fulfilling than they are now.

The little bird made a wish, but the girl entrusted her affairs after her death.

She explained her helplessness to the suffering people, and her frustration at being oppressed by those in power despite her desire for justice. Without asking for their help or making any pretense, Charlotte simply clenched her fists and swore an oath to them that if one day she were to offer herself to them, she would do so in order to seek justice that was long overdue.

With her fingers raised and held to her forehead, the young woman named Watson parted her lips slightly but firmly and said: