Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

"How could that be? I'm so glad you could come." In the past, because of Watson's height, she couldn't freely stroke the little sparrow's feathers, but now she could freely rub Winnie's already somewhat messy hair under the pretext of showing kindness.

It feels good in hand.

“After my parents passed away, you were still the first friend to take the initiative to visit me.”

"Friend, me?"

Winnie looked up and pointed to herself, somewhat confused.

"Naturally, once power and wealth are lost, those who once flocked to her have long since left or scattered, and there are quite a few who kick her when she's down or take the opportunity to mock her. Miss O'Shaw, although outwardly glamorous, is actually a somewhat lonely person, so she also hopes that a friend can come close to her."

With a slight smile, it was clear that Charlotte had said this on purpose.

"Oh, no, Miss Charlotte is beautiful and so gentle and dignified. I was helped by you and I need your help. It is my honor to be your friend."

She glanced furtively at the beautiful woman in front of her. Her tone was all too familiar, just like when she first met Watson. Back then, the detective had deliberately shown vulnerability to make her reluctant to agree.

Although she was willing to do it.

Thinking this, the little sparrow's eyes involuntarily welled up with tears.

It looks great!

"It's cold outside, come in first."

Winnie nodded, carefully straightened up, and followed him into the room. Her steps were as light as a cat's, as if afraid of making the slightest sound.

Charlotte closed the door, turned around and poured her a cup of hot tea, handing it to her slender hands.

"Have a cup of tea and warm yourself up."

Winnie took the teacup, holding it with both hands, and lowered her head to take a small sip. The warmth of the tea eased her tense nerves slightly, but she was still a little uneasy. Fortunately, Miss O'Shaw was always so understanding.

“I’ve heard that a new junior leader has recently emerged in the port area. Although he’s not very energetic, he always manages to offer his insights on managing and coordinating union affairs.” Charlotte’s gaze fell on the ‘craftsman’ armband on Charlotte’s chest, and she deliberately raised her voice. “The port workers all have a high opinion of him, and coincidentally, the Steam Supremacy Church, which governs the area, has also extended an invitation to that talented young man. It’s certainly a story that’s been widely discussed.”

Although the recent morning paper only mentioned this matter in the margins, based on the known information and characteristics, she naturally knew that the person was her own little sparrow.

Winnie's cheeks flushed again. She lowered her head and whispered, "Oh, Miss Charlotte, please stop teasing me! I just... don't want Watson's efforts to achieve her ideals to go to waste."

"This is the only thing I can do for her."

“You have done a great job. Your innate temperament needs to be perfected over time, but your initiative and confidence in making your own choices have been clearly improved. I can see that the departed Watson could do the same.”

The firelight flickered and danced, casting warm glow as Charlotte gazed quietly at Winnie, watching her clenched lips and the unwavering resolve in her tearful eyes. Just as they had said, the shy little duckling was indeed slowly transforming into a swan, even though the detective was no longer there.

"This is all thanks to your help."

"Honorifics are unnecessary. I'm just telling you how to access the extraordinary, to understand the truth, and that your ability to become one of those artisans is all due to your own hard work."

Through the threads of fate, Charlotte can see the little sparrow's current situation. She follows her own recommendation and joins the Church of Steam Supremacy. She also proves through her actions that her talent for hands and eyes and her keen observation are not far off, even if she has not yet become an extraordinary one.

"I'd love to shower you with compliments, but Winnie, is there something important that you're calling me so early today?"

Gazing at the blush rising on her face, she understood this quick-witted girl at a glance.

"Silly girl, you wouldn't have stood here so early in the morning just for a thank you, letting the cold wind make your ears turn bright red, would you?"

"Um......"

Without denying it, the chestnut-haired girl first opened her mouth slightly in surprise, then lowered her head somewhat embarrassed, poking her fingertips at each other.

Well, who would make things difficult for such a cute little sparrow?

"Then have breakfast with me. The maid has just made steamed egg custard. You can try this delicacy that came from the ocean."

Without giving her a chance to refuse, she acted like a caretaker feeding squirrels, making the girl's cheeks puff up.

After enjoying a good meal and drinks, Charlotte gave Watson the remaining unsent letters he had written.

“I haven’t looked at the letters Watson sent you. Even though we’ve only known each other for a month, she categorized them and marked the replies with different dates before forwarding them. I really don’t understand her thinking. So I’ll just give them all to you, Winnie, and you can decide when to look at them.”

After a soft sigh, she lowered her voice and watched Winnie remove the sealing wax and take out the still-fresh letter.

The elegant words sincerely expressed Watson's feelings, subtly highlighting Charlotte's malice.

—Seeing the words is like seeing the person

I'm sorry, Winnie, I lied to you from the very beginning.

I am destined not to stay in this seaside city for long, nor can I sit and watch you transform from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan.

My life is destined to be short; high buildings and walls contributed to my serious illness; arrogance and pride are my true nature.

I am not a kind and gentle person. If I had a healthy body, perhaps I would also be one of those who bully and ridicule you at the banquet. However, on the eve of my death, such arrogance seems too ridiculous and unnecessary.

So, I've come to terms with it. I travel to different countries to see the sights of the world, and I extend kindness and help to those I once looked down upon, making some kind of repayment, even if it's just crocodile tears.

Therefore, there is no need for you to shed tears for me, to feel sorry for me, or even to inherit the ideals I deliberately created.

Knowing my fate, I even wanted to pause my pen and write more letters as if I were still here, imagining what you, in your clumsy way, might say, where you might go, who you might meet. Perhaps, in this way, you would never forget me, weep day and night, never forget me, never let me go, pitiful and laughable to the point of being amused.

But as my breathing became increasingly labored, I gained a rare sense of open-mindedness.

As I lay dying, clutching the letter, a smile of reluctance yet serene grace on my face was not my true self. Therefore, in this final letter, with what little conscience I had left, I told you what the truth truly was.

This was supposed to be the last reply, but Charlotte deliberately placed it at the very beginning.

She made the little sparrow know Watson's malice, yet she couldn't help but look at the words that the original owner had labeled as lies. She said it was because she couldn't bear it, but she was so cruel as to expose every scar and mercilessly extinguish the little confidence that Winnie had just gained from working hard for Watson's ideals and settling the port workers.

Hearing and seeing, Winnie's fingers flipped through the pages more and more frequently, and the look in her eyes was not one of disgust at knowing it was a lie, but rather a deeper sense of apology and longing.

Just like the last sentence of his suicide note, the meaning conveyed between the lines was not a change of heart, but rather an incorrigible stubbornness.

[I am not a good man, but you are a true swan.]

Chapter 142 Born Different

Even the cutest girl won't look pretty when she cries.

Her eyes would redden, her lips would clench, and her brows would furrow, but even so, the timid little sparrow of the past still did not cry out.

Her fingertips trembled incessantly, the letter paper rubbing against her palm with a soft rustling sound, her gaze wandering between the words, as if each line was piercing her body and soul.

Suppressed sobs echoed quietly in the candlestick, tears like clear mirrors dripping onto the letter paper, slowly spreading the ink.

"What's wrong, Winnie?"

As someone uninvolved, Charlotte could naturally ask questions again, feigning ignorance and concern, in order to deliberately reopen this wound.

However, unexpectedly, Winnie, who was always timid and shy, was more resilient than any bird, like a stubborn weed.

“It’s nothing, Miss Charlotte, I was just… thinking about the past.”

"Thinking of her?"

Pointing to the signature on the letter, Charlotte's words, though a light inquiry, carried a strong sense of certainty.

Was it Watson's sudden departure, or the days and nights she wrote with her finger pen? Poets are always keen to evoke emotions, but they easily overlook the feelings of the readers. Just like Watson, she was hypocritical, completely different from her outward benevolence.

Gradual comfort can slowly open someone's heart and allow them to express their helplessness.

Winnie looked up at her, her eyes blurry with tears, her voice choked with emotion.

“Miss Charlotte, am I... am I stupid? She clearly said that those favors were deliberate and a lie with ulterior motives, but I still, I still couldn't help but believe her.”

“You’re not stupid, Winnie. Your environment has shaped you. You just lack experience and are too trusting. Watson used you, but not all of her lies were false. At least, her appreciation and recognition of you were real.”

Lowering her head, tears streamed down Little Sparrow's face again. "But... but why did she do this? Why did she let me know all this? She could have just kept it a secret. That way, I could have become the person she wanted me to be, and have the motivation to never forget her."

"is it?"

Though it wasn't outwardly apparent, a smile bloomed in her heart. To be cared for by others, to witness their emotional struggles and anguish for her sake, was truly a delightful experience.

However, she didn't want to further mistreat a pure bird. One taste was enough; repeating it would be tedious and unbearable, even if only a little. Therefore, she decided to let go and extricate herself to avoid unnecessary entanglement.

"I don't know much about Watson's girl either. We were just pen pals who exchanged stories. In those stories, she was unrestrained and only interested in satisfying her own pleasure."

Charlotte paused, then gently patted the girl's shoulder. "Judging from your tone, becoming a detective was probably just a passing interest of hers, and advocating for equality for the workers of Tingen was also something she did in her spare time."

"Perhaps, revealing the truth now is also just a spur-of-the-moment decision by Watson. She doesn't want you to live in lies. Perhaps, it's her last remaining kindness. She hopes you can see her true colors, let her go, and move on. Besides—"

She added fuel to the fire and watched as the flames grew stronger, warming each other's bodies.

she says:

"As a detective's assistant, you helped solve numerous cases; as the youngest daughter in your family, you helped your relatives and friends escape the hardships of life; you enforced discipline in the port area; and your abilities were valued by the Church of Steam Supremacy, thus making you a member of the artisans."

“You are no longer mediocre, Winnie.”

The beautiful woman's voice was soft and calm, yet it resonated like a great bell in Winnie's ears.

She staggered back two steps, barely managing to steady herself by grabbing the wall. In that moment of distraction, the letters slipped from her grasp like flying catkins, ignited by the blazing fire from the corners, and in an instant turned yellow and wrinkled, charring into dust.

So thin and light, it seems insignificant.

"You no longer need to live for anyone else; you can make your own choices."

As the words faded, Winnie stared blankly at the letter gradually turning to ashes in the fire. Her eyes reflected the dancing flames, as if what was burning was not only the paper, but also the long-standing shackles and inferiority complex in her heart.

Her fingertips unconsciously clenched the hem of her clothes, turning slightly white from the excessive force.

"I...I can choose for myself?"

The girl's voice was as light as a wisp of smoke, as if it would dissipate with a gust of wind.

“Of course, you are a complete person and have the right to do so. The methods taught by Watson and the books you read have all accumulated into your own power and can be used for your own purposes.”

“You can keep a low profile and not be as flamboyant and confident as her, always showing off your talents. You can proceed step by step and not be as impatient as her, which ultimately led to a miserable end. You can even do better than her, just like you aspire to and hope for.”

The back-and-forth was like a mother's instructions to her children. Charlotte was so engrossed in her pleasurable indulgence that she failed to notice the little sparrow's questioning tone gradually taking on a more specific direction.

"But... but what should I do? I'm used to following in her footsteps, used to obeying her guidance. I'm afraid of making the wrong choice, afraid of letting her down, even if those expectations were false from the beginning."

The chestnut-haired girl slowly raised her head, biting her lip with gritted teeth, and looked at the beautiful woman in front of her, who seemed concerned but not really cared.

Due to her innate talent, she vaguely sensed the emotions seeping within her, that familiarity, that closeness, as if it had brought about a certain possibility.

"That's just a temporary effect. Time will fade the traces people leave behind. No one can never make mistakes. It is precisely because of the pain of trial and error that we learn lessons and gain experience. With her example, you will be able to think further ahead and be more insightful than she was."

Charlotte's voice still sang in the birds' hearts, but she could hardly hear it.

She listened to the last words of comfort, which seemed to convey a sense of detachment and ease. Her tears welled up even more than before, and she could no longer suppress them. They fell to the ground and formed a puddle.

She heard—

"The book will always turn its pages, little sparrow."

The name of the bird, the gentle tone, was like an arrow that finally pierced through all pretense.

Even though the former had clearly given her direction and was someone who had shown her great kindness, even though it was just a very small and unfounded guess, Winnie couldn't bring herself to speak calmly and express her gratitude at this moment.

She wanted to treat Charlotte as merely a casual acquaintance, but the thought of her days and nights of self-pity, of those cherished memories, made it impossible for her. She simply couldn't do it—

Suppressing the grievances, suppressing that humble longing.

"I, I...I disagree!"

The usually shy little sparrow had never uttered such a high note before. She shook off Charlotte's outstretched hand and staggered awkwardly toward the door.

Chapter 143 Bastard

Charlotte didn't chase after Winnie, who was leaving in a hurry; she simply smiled nonchalantly.

The prefaces were too explicit and somewhat mocking. If one were to make assumptions, it might be possible to glean some clues. But so what? What kind of storm can a little sparrow stir up?

The reason it is called a hypothesis is because it is only an unproven possibility. Faced with a face completely different from Watson's, and faced with her own gentle appearance but indifferent inner self, even if Winnie finally mustered up the courage to question her, Charlotte would still raise the corners of her lips and deny it in a way that was both gentle and cruel.

The greatest distance is to know someone but not to recognize them.

Although she was a person who cherished women, she was even more inclined to indulge her own interests—to laugh at others who showed pain because of her.

"That's a really interesting reaction."

Looking at the spilled black tea caused by the former's shoving, she murmured to herself, her tone carrying a hint of amusement.

"Finally learned to rebel, little sparrow."

She did it on purpose, of course.

Her family background and birth limited the girl's horizons, making her timid and insecure. However, through her repeated efforts to break down her defenses and tell herself it was pointless, the fledgling nestled under her wings finally learned to say no.

Will she continue to resist? Or will she remain indecisive as before, relying solely on herself? Or will she take even more extreme actions in order to find the missing detective?

Bending down, Charlotte's gaze lingered on the unburnt remnants of the letter in the fire. The ashes trembled slightly in the firelight, as if still holding Winnie's tears and emotions.