Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

She is someone who knows how to enjoy life. She doesn't just want to satisfy others, but also wants to satisfy her own sense of ritual. All she needs is love at first sight, not love that grows over time.

and so--

“Eliza, I am your friend and also a doctor. I will come if you need me, but not today.”

Because she had an appointment.

Holding a strand of bright red hair, she turned and walked away, a trace of the little peacock's past.

"..."

Eliza did not stop the receding figure; she silently watched as the gilded spire of the distant opera house pierced the dawn.

After a long while, she loosened her clenched left hand, her palm still feeling cool—it was the hand she had gripped tightly the night before when she fell ill, a gift from the doctor.

Enamel medicine box.

Chapter 121 Saving Lives and Helping the World

Two o'clock in the afternoon, 11 Wai Street.

The drizzling rain, the faint mist, the rows of coal lamps gleaming with a hazy light, and the occasional horse-drawn carriage passing through the streets together constitute the most common scene in Florence.

"Sir, thank you for driving me all the way here."

The horse's mane broke through the thick fog, leaving mottled hoofprints on the stone road. As the comforting words faded, the destination was already in sight.

"No, thank you so much, ma'am."

After leaving a tip and receiving the driver's profuse thanks, Charlotte, with one side of her black umbrella pointing out, slowly walked towards the house she remembered, her skirt slightly draped over her.

Her previous refusal of Eliza was not due to pride; she was happy to stay in a beautiful woman's boudoir. However, as the only daughter of a family of doctors, Isabella Valenti, whose parents made their fortune in Florence, naturally owned property in the area.

So, she was fortunate enough to return to her home, which she hadn't been to for a long time, even though now only her uncles who ran the herbal medicine business remained in the house.

Coincidentally, as my parents grew older, they resigned from their public positions as doctors and went to towns severely affected by the epidemic to provide free medical treatment to the sick and suffering. This was probably due to the benevolence passed down through generations of doctors, as well as the different directions our family took in life.

The business was run by uncles and aunts to maintain a respectable image in public, while the knowledge of pharmacology was passed down from father to father to ensure the foundation of their existence and to elevate their morality and reputation.

Although there was a specific purpose behind it, such behavior and actions can indeed be described as those of a virtuous person.

Furthermore, their virtuous act of providing free medical care was indeed commendable. Although their surname was inconspicuous among the thousands of nobles in Florence, they enjoyed an excellent reputation among the people. Moreover, knowing that their parents had gone to the outer city would make things easier for them in the future, and there was no need to add to their sorrow.

She moved to the familiar yet unfamiliar carved wooden door, where a light drizzle dripped from the edge of her umbrella, splashing up tiny water droplets.

Take a deep breath, and the herbal fragrance filling the air will reach your nose. It's the unique scent of the Valenti family, mixed with the fresh smell of damp earth, which will make you feel at ease.

He tapped the door knocker with his finger, and after a few muffled thuds, footsteps came from inside, accompanied by a low question.

"Excuse me, who is this guest?"

"Isabella Valenti, a girl who has been away from home for a long time."

Her voice was calm and gentle, yet with a touch of playfulness, as if carrying the anticipation of a long-awaited reunion.

"Miss?"

A dry voice pierced through the door, revealing respect and surprise. Then, a slightly aged but vigorous face appeared before Charlotte's eyes.

That was Lange, the old butler who had been with her since childhood.

As the door opened and closed, a strong aroma of white sage and sage wafted out – the smell of sun-dried herbs.

Looking inside, the hunchbacked old butler was holding a bronze candlestick. As he approached, the candlelight flickered in the misty glass lampshade, illuminating his face.

"You're finally back."

The old butler bowed slightly, his voice trembling with barely concealed excitement. He stepped aside to make way for the former to enter.

Folding up the umbrella and stepping inside, familiar furnishings come into view one after another. The classical oil paintings hanging on the wall depict the stories of the Valenti family's physicians throughout the ages, just as they always have.

Looking sideways, she saw a mirrored medicine cabinet at the end of the corridor, its surface gleaming with an amber luster. Numerous glass bottles and jars were neatly arranged on the fireplace mantle, their gold paint, used for marking, having aged to create vine-like patterns.

The decor has a great atmosphere and a sense of history.

"Mr. Lange, is everything alright at home?"

The old butler paused, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes. “Everything is fine, except… during the years you were away from Florence, the master returned here and brought devastating news: the madam has passed away from tuberculosis.”

Charlotte's eyelashes furrowed involuntarily. She remained silent for a long time before sighing and turning her head to look elsewhere.

she says:

"May the goddess guide her soul."

The shared sorrow naturally arose from the spiritual connection, but compared to familial affection, she paid more attention to other details.

Looking back, I recall that the scale that my father used to weigh medicinal herbs is now stuck diagonally in the tin can containing wormwood.

Is it simply a lack of attention, or...?

"Where is Uncle Alberto?"

"The master is currently in the cellar checking the newly arrived hops. The foggy days have been becoming more and more frequent lately, and for some reason, more people are getting sick. Due to the increased demand, the work of purchasing and stockpiling is becoming increasingly arduous. Should I inform you of your arrival?"

"No need. I won't be staying in Florence for long this time."

As mentioned in the foreword, the lifespan of this puppet is not long due to the ravages of the poison. If there were a choice to make, Charlotte could immediately choose to abandon the current body. She only needs to withdraw her spirit and sever the connection, and the already short-lived 'Isabella' will fall into eternal sleep. Therefore, whether she stays or not is not important.

"Alright, then please wait a moment in the front hall, Miss, while I prepare tea for you."

Realizing he shouldn't ask for reasons, Lange simply kept his head down and went to the kitchen to fetch the appropriate cups.

"Over the years, Florence has changed a lot, and the manor has also changed a lot. After the master left, the yew trees that were planted here were all cut down and replaced with some 'herbs' that are easy to grow and can fetch a good price."

He hesitated slightly at the end, and just as the old butler was about to explain further, Charlotte interrupted him.

"Mr. Lange, the tea you brewed still has the same rich and lingering aroma as always, but compared to the past, it seems to have a more calming effect."

Raising his eyebrows, as his words fell silent, Lange's hand, which was holding the teacup, trembled slightly, causing the celadon cup and saucer to collide and produce a crisp, resonant sound.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. I noticed you looked travel-worn, probably from a long journey. That's why I took the liberty of adding some chamomile."

It was a voice filled with fear.

"I don't mean to blame anyone, I'm just being nostalgic, so let's save this cup of tea for next time."

Charlotte rose to say goodbye, having already sensed the change in atmosphere. She had no desire to cause trouble, and the family's troubles and conflicts, however serious, were none of her concern.

Although this cup of tea only had the addition of calming tea stems, it is only by standing aside that one can see the direction of the situation more clearly.

After escaping her predicament, she had only two things to do: first, to gradually understand why she came to this world during the process of advancing in rank; and second, to find the little bird that had flown away from the branch. Only in this way could she freely and peacefully indulge her interests and enjoy life to the fullest.

However, as soon as the words of farewell were uttered, the uncle mentioned in the words appeared at the right time, carrying the astringent smell of the cellar. With just a sniff, Charlotte could smell the saltpeter and sulfur residue on his cuffs. This herbalist, who in her memory always wore only linen robes, was now wearing tanned deerskin gloves.

Upon seeing the chestnut-haired man, his expression froze for a moment before becoming friendly again.

“Little Bella, it’s been so many years. I thought you would be like your elder brother, staying away from home for so long, just to do good deeds to help the world.”

P.S.: This chapter is short; there will be more text later.

Below is a book recommended by a friend. Feel free to check it out if you're interested, but don't forget me! ┭┮﹏┭┮、

Death consumes lifespan for resurrection, but Terra is a crazy girl.

Chapter 122 Goodbye, Ms. Mosang

"Uncle."

As Charlotte's fingertips gently caressed the carved details on the umbrella handle, she naturally caught the astringent smell of saltpeter and noticed the dusty collar, which clashed with the herbal scent that had been a symbol of the Valenti family's austere lifestyle for generations.

Tanned leather gloves, with burn marks between the fingers... was it gunpowder?

Without raising any doubts, she simply nodded slightly to the person in front of her and spoke in a neither humble nor arrogant manner.

“You know your father’s style of doing things. He’s always been a busy man and doesn’t like to stay in one place.”

Alberto chuckled twice, reached out and patted her shoulder, a gesture that seemed intimate but carried a hint of probing.

"Yes, that's always been my elder brother. But it's really a good thing that you're back. The family has changed a lot over the years. If you'd like to see more, your uncles would be happy to show you around."

"Thank you for your concern." Charlotte's gaze swept around, lingering for a moment on the newly planted 'herbs' before turning away, her tone carrying a hint of detachment.

This is a natural expression of the sorrow of parting.

"Years have passed, and both Vie Street and Florence have changed a lot. I am here this time only for some private matters, so please don't trouble yourself, Uncle."

This shows that she had no intention of interfering and asked Charlotte to let it go. She didn't want to stage a drama of a legitimate daughter returning home and regaining her dignity. Let the love and hatred of the mortal world be; Charlotte only cared about her own happiness.

Since the situation here doesn't offer a way out as I'd hoped, and it's not conducive to a peaceful night's sleep, rather than wasting my energy scheming against these nominal relatives, I'd rather live alone elsewhere, which would save me from having a peaceful night's sleep.

"Since that's the case, your uncles won't force you to stay."

The former's voice interrupted her thoughts. The current head of the family still wore a smile, but a fleeting chill had crept into his eyes. "However, if you change your mind, you can come back anytime. After all, this is still your home."

The polite words were obviously insincere and shouldn't be taken seriously. Charlotte opened the umbrella again, letting the raindrops slide down and splash tiny water droplets on the ground.

She left; no one tried to stop her, no one saw her off.

The city was shrouded in mist and rain. Strolling through the streets, one could clearly feel the dampness of the city, and looking at the strangers hurrying by, it was clear that this was the long-standing norm in Florence.

With its incessantly roaring factories and filthy rivers, it is, in some ways, more blatantly poor than its coastal neighbor, Tingen.

Under bridges and in alleyways, homeless people could be seen lying everywhere. Even though this was the capital of an empire, it could not accommodate the thousands of people who came from the countryside to the city. What awaited them was not happiness, but housing shortages and displacement.

Leaning against the railing on the adjacent street, Charlotte looked down from the bridge pier and caught a glimpse of the river, which was filled with a lot of garbage and foam.

The poor living conditions and lack of attention to hygiene made the spread of disease unsurprising, and the deaths of these people did not even attract the attention of those in power.

How pathetic and pitiful.

With the spirituality of a healer, she felt genuine compassion for these suffering people, however small it may be.

"Sir, to the almshouse."

She stopped a passing carriage. There was no rush to find a place to stay. Her wealth gave her more options. As a licensed doctor, she also had her own employer.

Aside from clinics run by unqualified doctors, the Empire nominally has its own dedicated medical institutions, namely the almshouses, which manage the certification process and personnel allocation. Isabella, too, passed the examinations early on before deciding to go to Tingen on her own.

In a sense, Valenti's surname would have been enough for her to secure a good position at the asylum in Florence, but the departure of her parents and the concern of her friends made her willing to give up her future and go to that remote seaside city.

As for the current visit, it is more due to the increasingly thick fog in Florence, where patients infected with lung disease are crowding the wards. In order to prevent the epidemic from worsening, the relief center had to seek manpower and ask doctors who were assigned to other places for help. Isabella accepted the former's assignment out of kindness and compassion.

"Madam, the hospital you're going to is just two blocks away. I don't know if I should ask, but you look very young and don't seem sickly."

"Thank you for your compliment. I was just going there for a quick look. There's no need for a reason."

She chuckled softly, a stray strand of hair twirling between her fingers. Compliments about beauty and youth are always pleasing, especially to women.

“That’s true, madam.” The coachman glanced at Charlotte’s simple attire and said with a touch of melancholy, “It’s getting late now, and there probably won’t be any free aid there. If the gentlemen serving the royal family were to arrange a formal visit, this orphanage would be decorated like it’s Christmas.”

He could be described as talkative, or as gossipy. The man would casually recount the events of Florence, mostly boasting while Charlotte listened, only occasionally responding with a few words on points that interested her.

"I heard that Florence recently opened a new subway system for city transportation."

"Subway? That thing is no different from a coal truck. Respectable people never ride in crowded and bumpy carriages. The rumble of the factory alone is enough to make one uncomfortable, cough..."

Just as they were getting into the conversation, the driver hunched over and coughed twice uncontrollably, the phlegm he coughed up containing a few drops of scarlet blood.

"Sir, you have a very bad cough."

"It's not a big problem. I just need to bear with it for a few days. I've always gotten through this before. It's all because of this damn weather. If I earn enough money, I'll definitely go to Belento for a nice vacation."

The text doesn't mention inflammation or tuberculosis. In this era of limited medical knowledge, even inflammation itself lacks a detailed definition, so there's no need to explain further.

The carriage slowly came to a stop. There was still some distance to go before reaching its destination, but the driver had no intention of continuing the journey.

"A little further on, those idiots who just put on a facade and start talking big will stop us from moving forward. So, from now on, I'll have to trouble you to walk on your own, madam."

"Thanks for your hard work."

The sound of horses' hooves faded into the distance. Just as the newspapers had said, the epidemic had come on fiercely and had already affected every corner of daily life.

Regarding the subsequent potion recipes and advancement ceremonies, aimless searching is undoubtedly a poor strategy. Joining the circle of extraordinary individuals and participating in small-scale trading gatherings, as in the past, is far more effective.

To break down the initial barriers, one naturally needs to leverage human resources, whether it's the cost of procurement or the introduction of connections.

Of course, before that, she wouldn't mind building her reputation as a good doctor in Florence. Capable people will find opportunities anywhere, especially in today's barren medical field.

Looking into the distance, just as she was about to step into the entrance hall of the relief center, a familiar figure came into view.

Ankle-length dress, slender figure, even with her face partially covered by a black veil, still revealing her beautiful bust and chilling aura.