Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Just as the two were walking and talking in tacit understanding, an unfamiliar male voice came from beside them, cutting through the waves of hawking.

"Madam, may I paint a picture for you? It will only take a short while, and I will pay you accordingly."

With his dark gray curls, the mature middle-aged man held a drawing board in one hand and raised the other to flatten it, as if trying to persuade the other to stay.

"Your unique charm made me stop in my tracks. If fate allows, I would like to capture your beauty on paper and frame it in the most expensive glass frame."

"The upcoming flower exhibition will be the perfect opportunity. I am James Whistler, and as a painter with some renown, I have the confidence to do so."

The easels stood in rows, half-covered with cloth, with unmixed paints placed beside them. His restless eyes revealed his anxiety, and his slightly disheveled clothes showed his urgency; he had most likely followed me here.

But so what?

Being somewhat famous is equivalent to not knowing anyone, and men are essentially excluded in advance.

Charlotte looked away indifferently, but a smug smile played on her lips.

However, I quite like hearing that.

The ribbons stretched taut again.

beep~

"I am honored to receive your praise, but unfortunately, my beloved is already taken. My childlike heart and my liveliness are reserved for one person alone, and they have already been sketched with their brushes, so—"

Her slender eyes trembled slightly. The girl straightened her chest and looked at her little bird with a smile, as if she were giving all her tenderness to it selflessly, without sharing it with anyone else.

"Forgive me for refusing."

Then the taut ribbon almost hit Sophie's nose, but the peacock was already intoxicated by the sweetness of the preface, a slight blush spreading across her ears. She gently raised her clasped fingers, as if recalling the promise of never abandoning each other on the bed.

It is truly my good fortune to have met Watson, to have been able to overcome my initial hostility and become close friends.

In the future, they will eventually—

"Farewell, renowned artist James Whistler."

Just as she was about to speak, Charlotte covered her ears, waved goodbye, and pretended not to hear. She also tossed her ribbons aside, skipped off on tiptoe, and stepped into the familiar office.

Her steps were still light and graceful, pleasing to the eye, but unusually, Singh was nowhere to be seen at the table in the front hall, nor was his pipe on the table. The girl only found today's newspaper in the spot that should have been his.

"Could it be that Mr. Singh is too late?"

Charlotte picked up the newspaper and casually asked Winnie, who was always punctual and was now sitting upright in the corner, buried in a pile of books, with only the tip of her hat peeking out.

"Well, that gentleman packed his things in advance. He said that you should rest for a while and then go to the second floor to find him."

Peeking her little head out from the heavy stack of books, the little bird girl's eyes were filled with surprise and a sense of peace upon seeing Watson.

She knew that the journey would end, and she felt reluctant and nostalgic, but she also buried her ambition, wishing to become a swan and looking forward to meeting again.

"How strange." Charlotte muttered to herself, slightly curious about the old detective's deliberate concealment. She combed her hair as she read the daily newspaper.

[Who could have imagined that family members could treat each other with such malice? Palmer, in order to seize the property and the will, did not hesitate to use poison to kill his daughter, with whom he had spent every day.]

Fortunately, Detective Singer's assistant, Miss Josephine, saw through the deception and exposed the locked-room suicide. As fate would have it, last night, Palmer made a mistake and, in the midst of plotting to murder his youngest daughter, was coincidentally bitten by a poisonous insect, ultimately meeting a wretched end.

Below is a photo of a man whose body is completely blackened, indicating severe poisoning.

Indeed, although I was credited as the veteran detective, the reports portrayed me as Hye-soo's astute assistant, playing a crucial role. Solving this not-so-small case brought this role to a perfect close.

But was this really a coincidence that led to his death?

Thinking of that perfect opera star, Charlotte couldn't help but wonder, was Eliza really as gentle and kind as she appeared?

Not entirely. As an opera singer, a versatile dancer, and a star who cannot afford any blemishes, she certainly has a great many ways of handling things.

Closing the newspaper, Charlotte stepped onto the second floor, the oak structure creaking as she crossed the stairs. This was Charlotte's first time entering the second floor of the agency, and her curiosity was palpable as she looked around.

The second floor is similar to an ordinary home, with the same decor as the first floor. The simple floral decorations and wooden furniture are neatly arranged, and there are many framed photos of cases hanging in the corridor, presumably as topics of conversation or as souvenirs.

She easily found the half-open room, and the girl gently knocked on the door, saying, "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Come in and talk."

A voice of approval came from inside the door, and Charlotte did not hesitate to push the door open and enter.

Upon entering, she heard a faint rustling sound. She saw the old detective placing a brand-new case file into a frame, looking around as if searching for a suitable place to hang it on the wall.

"Sir, what are you doing?"

"Watson, you have added another honor to the firm. Ms. Faringer has a very high opinion of this case and your investigation process. If nothing unexpected happens, it won't be long before you become a famous detective in Tingen, on par with me, or even better."

As if he had completely forgotten the commission he had given yesterday, the man spoke but never looked up. He just kept stroking the case file, seemingly unwilling to show his sadness, as if mourning something he was about to lose.

"..."

Slightly taken aback, Charlotte paused for a moment, then raised the corners of her mouth, letting her thin lips utter a playful remark.

"Unfortunately, the kind-hearted Miss Watson didn't want to overshadow the reputation of her useless employer, so—"

"She's already been very understanding and has given up on her own."

Chapter 85 Goodnight, World (Part 1)

"Watson, you really are unwilling to give me the slightest face, nor are you willing to give yourself the slightest room to maneuver."

The winter air was dry and cold. His chapped knuckles rested on the edge of the toilet paper roll, and Singh chuckled bitterly.

"Why rush things? Even if you pity those suffering faces, it takes time to build momentum and raise your banner, doesn't it? With your abilities, you clearly have more options."

Turning my head to look at the wall on one side, I saw that the framed newspapers were all filled with accounts of cases solved by the detective, regardless of the size of the matter or whether it was about good or evil.

This is an honor, a warning, and something Singh wanted to share with the girl.

only--

"Time is too precious for Miss Watson, so precious that disregarding affection is a helpless act."

Charlotte spread her fingers and looked at the life line on her palm, which was winding and disappearing, leaving only her slender wrist joint.

She smiled gently, brighter than spring flowers, as if she were telling a story.

"Life is fleeting like spring flowers, sir, do you know? Every dawn and dusk is an incredibly cruel reminder and evening bell for her."

"There are two comedies in life: one is utter despair, and the other is arrogance."

The girl opened her eyes, causing her long, slender eyelashes to tremble slightly, resembling the wings of a blooming butterfly.

"Therefore, in this limited life, she would rather be a good person, a celebrity, and proudly step onto the stage to offer all her value, even if her intentions are not pure."

No more hiding it. At this point, there's no need to conceal it anymore. Besides, the gentleman in front of me might have already lifted a corner of his mask.

Charlotte never underestimated Singer. As a renowned detective in Tingen, he had solved numerous high-profile cases and had also demonstrated his keen observation skills during their interactions.

In fact, she had been wary of the former, but Ms. Mossam made it clear that he was an ordinary person and that she had never truly felt any danger from Singh.

Rather than a simple employer-employee relationship, the other party was more like a tolerant and peaceful elder who treated her like his own daughter.

It was really annoying. Charlotte already felt guilty, and even the slightest bit made the originally enthusiastic performance a little dull.

Upon hearing this, the old detective sighed and gave up any further attempts to comfort him.

"...Watson, although we worked together for a very short time, the chemistry we had from the interview onwards is something I will never forget."

He knew the girl was determined to leave. If life was destined to end, or if she was afflicted by a serious illness, her life's trajectory would no longer be viewed according to common sense; meaning and wishes would be what she pursued.

Picking up fallen flowers in the morning and gathering them in the evening—that's all there is to it.

It's not that Singh is ignorant; given the fleeting nature of life, his awareness naturally evokes thoughts of incurable serious illnesses.

“I will record this experience, just as you would like, girl.”

For the first time, he abandoned polite honorifics and addressed the girl by her plain name. The employer-employee relationship was over; now, he was just a pitying, lamenting old man.

So, is she being treated as a frail girl who is seriously ill?

...Never mind, it's a wonderful misunderstanding, Charlotte is happy with it.

"Cheer up, sir, at least you'll save two pounds a week."

It was a joke meant to ease the tension, and it was clear that it didn't bring any laughter to others, but Singh still forced a smile.

"Do you need me to add some more figures to your weekly wage?"

"No way. I'm a big shot in the newspapers now. I'm not only witty and cute, but also smart and beautiful. I might even be on the front page for a long time to come. Sir, you're way out of my league. You should keep that money for yourself or to comfort a sad little bird."

It's self-praise that's taken for granted.

She lifted her felt hat, lowered her cane with two soft taps, and then Charlotte straightened her back and turned away, just as she had proclaimed her noble status to the world back then; now she truly had something to say—

"Tomorrow may be unjust, but I hope for good dreams, world."

The wooden staircase creaked as the soles of her boots touched the ground, and the girl leaped down lightly, landing gracefully between the two little sparrows.

She spread her hands to gather Sophie's bright red hair, then straightened Winnie's slightly tilted newsboy cap with her fingers, and chuckled softly, her voice carrying the fragrance of perfume.

"Sophie, Winnie, we're so lucky! We'll have a short vacation coming up soon, and it'll be paid!"

"Really? Mr. Singh and Watson have worked so hard for so long, they really need to rest."

Peeking her little head out from the pile of books, the little bird girl beamed, her eyes sparkling. Rather than being grateful for the vacation, she seemed genuinely happy for the person beside her.

As he descended from the second floor, upon hearing Winnie's words, the old detective calmly nodded in affirmation, as if the exchange of money had never occurred.

"Well, most of the recent cases have been resolved. Tomorrow is the Blooming Flowers Art Exhibition, and the police station will tighten its control accordingly, which will reduce the workload for us detectives. Not only me, but most people should be able to find time to see that magnificent scene. After all, this is Hadings under the rule of Emperor Rothari."

Closing the unfolded newspaper, Singh looked at the nearby clock, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only spoke in a low voice.

"Girls, there are no cases to handle today. You can go back and get a good night's sleep or immerse yourselves in the festive atmosphere. I'm all you need to do here."

"really?"

"nature."

Upon receiving a positive response, Charlotte immediately opened her arms and showered her with praise.

“Mr. Singh, you are simply the most humane and good boss.”

This is true; even though Watson's performance was nearing its end, this little surprise could still inspire a girl entering the twilight years.

With a wave of farewell, Charlotte was the first to leave the office, and with the cold wind, the two little sparrows also humbly took their leave, walking away with her into the distance.

"Sophie, Winnie, are you looking forward to tomorrow's art exhibition? I heard it's a special exhibition from Hastings, and as travelers, it's hard not to be interested."

It was a topic deliberately brought up.

"Merchants, nobles, celebrities... all sorts of people will participate, using the gimmick of pursuing art, even if they don't understand anything at all. But if Josephine wants to go, I will go with her."

Sufby looked away, her eyes filled with nothing but the girl's figure.

"Hmm, I don't appreciate such highbrow things, but my sisters all want to go. Watson, will you come?"

With a hint of anticipation, Winnie glanced furtively at the man before her.

How could Charlotte refuse the two little birds' subtle and overt inquiries? Besides, it was a question she had deliberately asked.

“Silly girls, I already said I’m interested, so of course I’ll go. Besides, I also have a piece of work that I want to show them and present to the public.”

"Well, then..."

Before the birds' chirping could reach her ears, the girl quickened her pace, stopped a little distance away, turned around, put her hands behind her back, leaned slightly forward, and smiled radiantly.

"It's a date then, see you tomorrow, don't be late!"

The slender figure faded from view like a wave, disappearing into the dark gray crowd, but the soft whispers and the corresponding promises still lingered in each other's ears, unwilling to dissipate.

Watson came quietly and left quietly. She strolled through the port district of Tingen and immersed herself in the vibrant green fields and beaches. She kept every breath of the city in her ears and heart.

The sky darkened, and the moon shone brightly.

Tonight there are no clouds; once the fog dissipates, a pool of starlight will shine brightly.

This is a rare sight in Tingen, it is—

"Is Heaven also waiting for my performance?"

With their five fingers spread out in front of them, the blonde beauty and the silver-haired girl raised their hands simultaneously, echoing each other who were far away yet so close.

Through the iron bars of the prison cell, the row of low buildings was no longer monotonous. The silver-haired girl sat on the edge of the eaves, like a cliff edge, or like a knight who had been waiting for a long time finally getting a chance.

It was seven o'clock in the evening. The moonlight was shining brightly overhead, and the night wind made her hair dance. Watson reached out and combed it behind her ear, took a deep breath, and looked down at the colorful city below.

Below, the light was dazzling, and the candlelight lit on the street illuminated people's faces. Countless figures moved through the winding roads, like fireflies trapped in narrow passages. Looking further into the distance, the indistinct horizon seemed to merge with the receding tide of the ocean in the distance. The gentle Qinghai Lake lapped against the beach, and the azure breath of the distant ocean carried by the sea breeze transformed the entire city into a part of the deep sea. Everyone was like a fish, chasing the last light in the waves, relentlessly moving forward, searching for a hope that might not even exist.

She will then transform into this ray of moonlight and reach out to take the arm of a princess.