Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Sure enough, I guessed right.

As expected of me.

Charlotte, her heart blooming with tiny flowers, yet her serene expression remained unchanged. She followed the former, leaving the church and returning to the dimly lit, drooping streets.

As dusk approached, the train's whistle sounded hoarsely, and the surging crowds, like a tide, surged back and forth in this remote coastal city. Their voices blended into the rivers and lakes in the distance, light and inconspicuous.

“Bella’s clinic isn’t far from here, just a few steps away.”

"Ma'am, would you consider this slacking off during work hours? Would you deduct it from my pay?"

It was a deliberate and timely mention that eased the tension.

"How could that be? I've already arranged the shifts. Don't let Pedeline's lively personality fool you; she's actually quite capable when it comes to handling practical matters. As a prospective administrative staff member, you don't need to get involved in the daily routines yet. It takes time to adapt and get used to it; you need patience."

"Breathing in the fresh air and basking in the sea breeze from the east is a small relaxation. We are the guardians who carry heavy burdens, but we also need to sleep and rest."

Taking Charlotte's forearm by her arm, Zelena gently stroked the back of her hand with her fingertips, whispering softly.

“Girl, Silva told me about your sorrow and fearlessness in your self-narration, how you were caught up in disaster and power, resulting in the loss of your family and being all alone. I don’t doubt your determination, but I’m worried about the emotions you’ve buried deep beneath your taciturn nature, so I took the liberty of taking you to see Bella.”

"I will apologize to you for this. The reason I didn't speak up just now is that, even for someone I know well, I need a little courage and face-saving."

Before they knew it, they had crossed the long, rain-soaked street and stopped at a clean house.

The evening breeze lingered, and the beautiful woman's gentle voice still echoed in her ears, like a light rain caressing her face. Charlotte was unusually stunned for a moment.

If Watson's warmth was merely an act, then Ms. Z's was genuine and meticulous care, displaying both tender concern and a touch of reserve, seemingly embodying the mature and gentle charm of a woman.

Even she was momentarily dazed, drawn to the other person, and subconsciously wanted to let down her guard and place her trust in him.

Fortunately-

Click.

The wooden door in front of her was slowly pushed open by a few slender fingers. The owner of the house noticed the visitor's arrival and stirred Charlotte's increasingly heavy emotions.

She saw the approaching figure purse her thin lips, revealing a hidden joy in her eyes and a barely perceptible hint of resentment.

“Zelena, as a friend, I should welcome you, but as a doctor, I hope you can push open this door a little later.”

“Bella, I’m not doing this for myself. A girl, a strong girl, I’m worried she might go astray because of the disparity in her life, so—”

"So, you never care about yourself?"

Her slightly brown hair was clearly parted at her temples, with one side drooping down to her eyebrows and the other side tucked behind her ear. Without any makeup or styling, her long eyelashes trembled slightly, sending a pleasant glance to her face.

The simple dark coat adds a dignified and mature air, while the clean white lace lining perfectly accentuates the purity of the eyes and brows.

A touch of girlishness, a touch of elegance, a perfect match.

"No, I didn't..."

"You shouldn't lie to a doctor, especially a friend who knows you very well."

Zelena wanted to argue, but she shook her head and emphasized the word "friend" in her tone.

"I do have a slight, minor headache. I just need to rest more and drink some warm water."

Like a little girl lying, Ms. Z could no longer maintain her composure and knowingness in front of this beautiful woman.

"Come in. Today, without those candy-begging kids, we have plenty of time to talk and get rid of our troubles."

The neat table is piled with small jars of fructose and a stack of sugar coatings pressed squarely, exquisite and simple. Looking around, you can see warm-colored bricks and tiles and smell the refreshing incense. Like the gentleness of the morning glow, this clinic does not have the paleness of life passing away. Being in it, you feel an extraordinary sense of peace and tranquility.

"No, no, next time, Bella, please forgive me, I've been really busy lately, so I'll leave this girl to you."

Contrary to what was previously stated, Zelena declined the invitation and left after offering an apology, leaving behind only a sigh.

"Hey, she's always so busy, she doesn't even realize she's tired and her eyelids are drooping."

Peeling off the candy coating, the brown-haired beauty offered a sweet candy to Charlotte without complaint, but instead whispered her thoughts to Charlotte and to herself.

“Zelena must have more troubles around her than this small clinic. She has to care about all sorts of events, take care of other people’s feelings, and consider the consequences, especially in this unsettling late winter.”

She heated some water and poured it into the clear glass. She didn't ask any questions, letting the sunset gradually fade and fall into other people's homes.

“Young lady, you must be one of Zelena’s subordinates, right? I haven’t asked her much about her work, and she has never told me in detail. But I imagine that what you are facing must not be easy, and it must be very demanding, so I can’t say for sure.”

“I understand her worries and concerns, but often, when you’re tired and exhausted, you still need to relax a little. A moderate amount of sweets can help relieve fatigue, whether you’re an adult or a child.”

"Sit down for a while. You don't need to be nervous here. Just treat it as a small room to chat about your troubles."

After leaving her seat, Charlotte walked towards the cubicle. She watched the figure as if he were retrieving something, but a moment later a dull thud was heard as he hit the ground.

As she approached the sound, she saw the beautiful woman from before had fallen to the ground in a state of disarray, offering no support or response, her breathing barely perceptible.

The cup he held in his palm had shattered, scattering into several small fragments.

It was a sudden death.

Alone at the scene, and with herself undeniably the suspect, Charlotte should have shown panic. But seeing that pretty face slashed by shards of glass, bleeding crimson blood, she felt something else entirely—

Another idea.

Chapter 108 A Brief Life

The spring flowers that had been lying quietly on the table fell with a muffled thud, scattering into petals that slowly returned to the embrace of the earth.

Click.

As the door opened, the twilight light streamed through the cracks, illuminating Charlotte's pale skin from behind.

Her skin was white to the point of being translucent, her lips a pale blue, serene and tranquil—a fragile beauty enhanced by poison. She lay on the clean floor, her brows slightly furrowed, her eyes closed, only her long, delicate eyelashes fluttering slightly, as if she were taking a nap in the warm spring sun.

The broken glassware lay scattered everywhere, the shards of glass falling like snowflakes, some even brushing against the deceased's skin, leaving a poignant crimson stain on her plain coat.

Tragic yet stunningly beautiful.

"it's beautiful."

Watching this person she had only met once depart from this world, Charlotte felt a rare pang of pity. After all, she had just received his concern and had missed her chance to learn more about him.

Moreover, this sudden situation actually brought him considerable trouble.

Being alone at the scene, witnessing it all by myself, without clear testimony and corresponding evidence, wouldn't the suspicion of murder fall on this frail young woman?

In this era, knowledge of pharmacology was extremely scarce. Who could be sure what had killed Ms. Bella? Rather than obsessing over a false accusation, it would be better to simply pin the blame on the only person present. Didn't the original owner's parents die under mysterious circumstances?

With a self-deprecating smile, she put on her veil, parted the beauty's eyelids, and gently touched her lips. Under the influence of the fan, a slight astringent taste immediately spread to the tip of her nose.

The symptoms were not obvious, and the smell was similar. Charlotte had used similar methods to deal with disobedient people before.

So--

She raised her snowy neck and looked around. On the medicine shelf beside her, she found a small jar of powder that had been opened. Clearly, this was the so-called culprit.

Yes, the reaction of confused chemicals, the untimely volatilization of drugs, and the close sniffing have created the current situation. But at its root, it is still the limitation of the times and the personal shallowness of my knowledge in this regard that has led to this.

How unfortunate that a young and beautiful woman has passed away. If I were to tell Ms. Zelena myself that her best friend died in an accident, would I be able to see the sadness on that usually gentle face?

Given their tacit understanding, Ms. Z would likely have put on a strong front in front of herself and her colleagues, only shedding tears and silently mourning when she was alone.

Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.

Of course, that's not what Charlotte needs to focus on right now. Her first priority is dealing with the person in front of her and the role she plays in this accident.

Is he a suspect, a witness, or—a replacement?

Yes, the thought that arose from the first sight was to replace it.

If one knows but does not report it, or leaves in a panic and reports it, then the suspicion against oneself will undoubtedly be amplified. If one is honest with Ms. Z, with her insight and keenness, she should be able to discern the truth and extricate oneself from the case. However, those are all mediocre actions of staying out of the matter. The former is the worst, and the latter is also a useless bitter result. Under the influence of the sentiment of loving the house because of the dog, it is inevitable that Zelena will develop a shallow resentment towards him.

Perhaps even she herself could not realize it, but whenever she recalled the beautiful memories of the past, and thought of Charlotte being there but doing nothing, the color of sorrow would eventually overwhelm her reason, indulging and accommodating her blaming heart.

Humans are always like this, so base, so weak, and Charlotte was no exception.

Therefore, she only needs the best outcome, regardless of good or evil; the only important factor in weighing the pros and cons for herself is what matters most.

Help the sleeping lady sit up and let her lean gently against the back of the chair, as if taking a short nap. The idea has been realized, but now it still needs to be put into practice.

It's not that Charlotte was heartless; she was merely a witness who happened to be there and happened to witness the crime. She had no responsibility or guilt, and in a way, what she was supposed to do afterward was an act of kindness.

Selflessly helping others, saving lives, and reawakening the spirits of the deceased—if Ms. Z saw her friend unharmed and knew she had received help, she would surely be grateful to herself.

My fingertips touched that smooth chin, moving upwards from the flawless cheeks to the eyebrows and temples. A delicate blush slowly bloomed on the pale skin with each gentle touch, like a miracle of rebirth.

The creation of a live puppet is complex, and the materials required are extremely scarce, because what is truly lacking is her flowing blood.

Like an artificial organ, Watson was created by Charlotte's mother, not out of thin air. He gradually grew from childhood to the age of a young girl. They were of the same blood and origin. If he were to be artificially created, the amount of things required would be enormous. Moreover, he wanted an identity that would allow him to break away from Tingen and walk freely without being abrupt.

Creating something from nothing is too difficult, and a blank identity is meaningless, so—

Charlotte reached into the inner pocket of her coat and took out her professional credentials, a slight smile playing on her lips.

A doctor would be just right.

She is respected by others, has the initiative in conversation, and is also a close friend of Ms. Z. This relationship and personal connection make many things much easier.

Her slender fingers brushed across the skin cut by the glass, gently wiping away the spilled blood, restoring its pristine whiteness.

Most importantly, the person sleeping before her was beautiful enough, pleasing to the eye, and possessed a graceful and elegant beauty unlike her own. This was the foundation of everything, and she would never allow the face beneath the mask to lose its allure.

O'Shaughnessy's skills were not limited to creating live puppets; he could also use existing human bodies, though this would greatly reduce controllability and durability.

But this didn't matter to Charlotte. She never intended to manage it long-term. Making the best use of it was its best destiny. Besides, she had developed a fondness for it, for the ease of being detached, and for the freedom to play as she pleased without having to take responsibility.

As the fingertip is pricked, in the deepening twilight, the blood that has gathered from the wound reveals a translucent, shimmering blue color. It drips slowly, then flows down in strands, gradually seeping into the body and soul of the person being pricked.

Humph.

With a soft murmur, Charlotte felt the searing pain of actively severing her spirituality, like a needle piercing her heart, and she couldn't help but bite her lip.

Fortunately, it was all worth it.

Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her eyes, as bright as amber, slowly opened. The sleeping beauty finally awoke from her slumber. She reached out her delicate hand and gently pressed it against Charlotte's wrist, neither intimate nor distant, but simply expressing her concern.

She said the doctor said:

"Girl, what are you worried about? What are you afraid of?"

Their eyes met, she linked arms with him, she put her arm around his shoulder, like dance partners who had been together day and night. They moved their toes in perfect harmony until one of them bowed and took his leave, and the other's lips bled.

The man who bowed said, Charlotte said:

"I pride myself on not being moved by emotions, yet I am filled with unease, my words contradict my heart, I worry that my feelings will fade, and I fear being forgotten."

Upon hearing this, the man coughing up blood curled his lips into a smile that was both exquisite and tragic.

The toxicity of drugs damages the five internal organs. Even with the help of spiritual intervention, the damage is irreversible. Forcibly eliminating the disease only gives this life a little more time to flourish.

Therefore, Isabella said bitterly:

"Me too."

Chapter 109 Rebirth

"Miss, you are back."

"Ah."

The respectful greeting was as usual. Meeting the maid's slightly nervous expression, Charlotte nodded slightly, without saying a word, but casting a reassuring gaze.

This villa in the central district was probably a small act of charity given to her by the Tingen sheriff out of a sense of decency. After all, although she had been exonerated, she had lost her parents and was all alone, which made her quite pitiful.

Of course, if there were genuine compassion, one wouldn't act like a robber and seize all the properties that rightfully belonged to O'Shaughnessy.

That's why Charlotte disliked those condescending tones and didn't particularly like the charming Western-style building. When a person is in a bad mood, nothing seems appealing, and that's exactly what happened.

"Who is this lady?"

Just as she was about to bend down to brush the dust off the former's heels, the head maid noticed the brown-haired beauty following behind.

"A friend with whom I can talk about anything."

Turning back to take Isabella's slender hand, Charlotte's brow unfurrowed, and she spoke with ease about their love story.

"A doctor who is worried about her best friend."

Isabella draped a coat over the blonde woman, her tone slightly emphasizing, revealing her concern as if she were a true friend who cared deeply for her.