Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Leaning forward, a wisp of chestnut hair fell gently in the wind and landed on the plague distribution map in the investigation report.

"How strange! Does an epidemic also understand social hierarchy and class etiquette?"

No need for harsh words; her slender, brown-haired figure, like a dagger, pierced through the chaotic vision.

"Enough!" Unable to contain himself any longer, Forwell slammed his hand on the table, knocking over the gilded inkwell, and black ink spread across the investigation report like a spider web.

His roar startled the birds outside the window. "You think these attention-grabbing tricks can shake things—"

There was a gentle knock on the drawing room door, and the young nurse timidly peeked in: "Excuse me for disturbing you, but Ryan's condition has worsened, Ms. Valenti, I really don't know what to do..."

Charlotte turned around without hesitation, but was stopped again at the door by Fowle.

"Yes, I almost forgot. You are a good daughter of the Valenti family. Don't forget what your surname represents."

It was a cold, mocking laugh.

Without turning her head, she merely turned her face slightly to the side, the morning light casting shadows on her pale skin.

“Sir, I am first and foremost a doctor, and then Valenti’s child, and so are you.”

"The drugs for treating the epidemic need to be constantly innovated. Behind every exaggerated treatment method is a major medical breakthrough. We cannot shorten the process time, so we can only suppress the spread at the source to prevent further spread, unless you do not have such intentions in the first place."

Cracks appeared on the man's once-handsome face.

"Just as I don't know what a surname represents, I only know that for every day of delay, a dozen or so children like that will die."

The identity she carried was merely a burden that could be discarded at any time. Charlotte never minded using this borrowed mask to righteously vent her emotions. She cherished the pleasure of standing on the moral high ground, and moreover, the conflict was a necessary thing that she had long intended.

As people moved away and the noise subsided, the smell of disinfectant in the corridor became pungent, with only the young nurse's whispered, anxious murmurs escaping her ear.

"Ms. Valenti, did you and the dean have a fight?"

"What's wrong, Per? Are you afraid that getting close to me will displease him?"

When facing children, Isabella always radiates the gentlest of looks in her eyes.

"No, I don't want to please someone like that. He just sits and watches us work hard without ever saying a word. And you, don't you like the name Valenti?"

It was a cautious probe.

"No matter who you are, being associated with someone's surname is always frustrating, and I'm one of them, so—"

Charlotte smiled, as if her previous coldness was merely a necessary disguise.

she says:

"Just call me Dr. Bella."

Chapter 146 Approval and Tone

Meaningless arguments are unnecessary; Charlotte's reason for making her dissatisfaction with the dean public is more to establish a necessary image.

In fact, she had thought that even if her proposal was ignored or disregarded, it would at least cause some controversy. But Fowler's reaction was much more intense than she had anticipated; his words seemed to not only challenge her authority but also touch on certain sensitive issues.

However, before the pandemic fully broke out, all she had to do was be a compassionate and selfless doctor. For this, she didn't mind shedding blood, sweating, or getting injured. Only through hardship and misery could she evoke people's praise for her steadfastness.

The ward door closed behind me, shutting out the noise of the corridor.

Before him, the boy named Ryan was still curled up, lying on a bed made of wooden planks.

Sensing his waning life force, Charlotte placed her fingertips on his forehead, and instantly, her burning body heat touched the skin that met hers.

She sighed softly, took a cool, damp towel from the medicine box, and placed it on the boy's burning forehead. Ryan's eyelashes trembled, but he did not wake up. His lips were cracked from the high fever, and his breathing was muffled and labored.

"Dr. Bella..." Per stood to the side, her voice trembling with tears, "He was perfectly lucid this morning, but now..."

"Shh, let him sleep peacefully, girl."

It was a gentle yet undeniable tone.

Charlotte took out some warm water from the suitcase, crushed some mint leaves and soaked them in it. Only after the fragrance wafted out did Charlotte hand it to the former.

Meeting that slightly surprised gaze, she smiled gently.

"As a family member eagerly awaiting good news, you mustn't let your anxiety cause you to develop health problems."

The reason is simple: the medical level of this era was too poor, and due to the limitations of material conditions, most ordinary people could not afford to drink boiled water or use things that could truly be called medicine.

Fortunately, the knowledge she accumulated in her previous life always provided her with convenience in her role. Without the influence of extraordinary characteristics, it was not difficult to treat these patients' illnesses. The body's immunity, coupled with the intake of appropriate drugs, could promote spontaneous immunity.

However, the lack of environmental conditions and—

Through her spiritual vision and by the thread of fate of those she cares for, Charlotte could vaguely see that there was active interference from others in this epidemic. Otherwise, even with long-term malnutrition and excessive hard work, the mortality rate would not have been so high.

Just as my thoughts settled, hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the door. As I could see, a municipal official in uniform rushed in, his face unusually serious.

“Ms. Valenti, the city hall urgently summons you. Your report…” He glanced at the boy on the hospital bed, lowering his voice, “has caused a huge uproar.”

Her hand holding the blanket tightened slightly, and she felt a little surprised.

So fast? She had originally thought she would have to wait until tomorrow at the earliest, but it seems that some people are even more impatient than she imagined. At least, the government departments are more or less concerned about this epidemic.

So--

“Per, take good care of this child.” Charlotte stood up and straightened her slightly wrinkled clothes. “Change the towel every half hour, and if the fever gets worse, make this soup.”

She took a paper package from deep inside the medicine box, handed it to the nurse, and then left with him.

The town hall carriage was parked in front of the workhouse. Before getting in, Charlotte noticed several well-dressed people on the street corner pointing at the workhouse and gesturing at words.

"reporter?"

It is a murmur that is intentionally shared with others.

Upon hearing this, the driver at the front of the line scoffed dismissively, "The Florence Daily, they claim to be reporting on the epidemic, but actually..."

"Dell, no one gave you permission to speak."

He hesitated, about to speak, when he was stopped by the accompanying officials and had no choice but to whip his horse to spur it on.

The carriage then rolled through the damp streets, splashing mud onto roadside posters. On the brand-new tarpaulin, Academician Fauval smiled at the crowd, next to which was written in bold lettering: "Medical Committee Promises - The Epidemic Is Completely Under Control."

It's quite ironic that what's said on paper always sounds better than the truth.

The chestnut-haired horse slowed its pace and stopped in the central square of Florence, where the spire of the city hall looked particularly majestic under the gloomy sky.

As Charlotte got out of the car, she noticed a group of dressed officials and reporters had gathered on the steps. They were talking in hushed tones, their eyes occasionally glancing in her direction, as if waiting for a good show.

"She does have a unique appearance, but judging from her expression, she probably doesn't realize how ridiculous her suggestion is."

"Hush, everyone says the Valenti children are kind and noble, but I think she's just self-righteous and has no sense of reality."

As she entered the hall, a bespectacled secretary greeted her with a respectful yet distant tone: "Ms. Valenti, the mayor and the gentlemen of the Medical Committee are already waiting for you in the council chamber."

Charlotte nodded slightly and followed him through the corridor. Portraits of past mayors hung on the walls on both sides, their gazes seemingly scrutinizing her—a "troublemaker" who challenged authority.

The doors to the council chamber were pushed open, revealing a brightly lit interior filled with people seated on both sides of a long table. At the head of the table, Count de Montero, the mayor of Florence, was solemnly reviewing a document, while Academician Fauval sat to his right with a confident smile on his face.

“Ms. Valenti.” The mayor looked up, gazing at the approaching beauty, his voice deep and authoritative, “Your report… has caused quite a bit of controversy.”

Standing firmly but not servilely, Charlotte simply glanced at everyone present. Besides the members of the medical committee, there were several representatives from the industrial zone—including the owners of several large factories along the Rhine.

Sure enough.

This is not an intentional act of official leniency. If the water source is confirmed to be polluted, public opinion will force the construction of evacuation and diversion infrastructure underground throughout the city, which will require a huge amount of resources.

While she was thinking this, she remained calm on the surface: "Mr. Mayor, I am merely stating the facts. The spread of the disease is related to water pollution, and the water quality problem of the Rhine River is no secret."

"Absurd!" Fauval slammed his fist on the table and stood up abruptly. "Ms. Valenti, you are slandering the Medical Committee's judgment! Do you think we don't even understand basic pathology?"

“Pathology knowledge?” Charlotte tilted her head slightly, her voice soft yet sharp. “Then may I ask, Mr. Fowle, have you personally visited the slums downstream? Have you seen with your own eyes those workers who fell ill from drinking sewage?”

The man's face stiffened for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure: "This is irrelevant! The transmission routes of the epidemic have been scientifically verified. Your so-called 'investigation' is nothing but baseless conjecture!"

The atmosphere in the council chamber suddenly became tense.

The mayor paused for a moment before finally speaking: "Ms. Valenti, your views are very sharp and have merit, but it's not just you; we all need to give the public an explanation. The most important thing now is to control the epidemic, not to create panic."

"It has been proven that there is a problem with the water source, but that is not something that can be solved in a short time. However, you, who are fighting on the front line of the epidemic, should have a deep understanding of the current situation. I will adopt your point of view, and if it is true, I will also make my name known to the public."

"Therefore, we hope that you will refrain from spreading unverified information until then."

Feeling the piercing gaze behind her, Charlotte was about to speak when she saw Eliza's brother standing in the crowd. As their eyes met, he raised his hand, interrupting the conversation filled with denial.

“Count Montero, I don’t think this is something that can be delayed. It concerns the safety of the citizens and must be put on the agenda immediately.”

Unlike their initial hostility, Theodore's tone was unusually serious in court.

"Therefore, I request that the water source be adjusted as soon as possible to prevent the spread of the plague."

"Therefore, I approve of Ms. Isabella."

It is not a common surname, but a name that one respects.

Chapter 147 What is a Monster?

The air in the council chamber froze at Theodore's abrupt speech, and all eyes turned to this usually low-key nobleman, even Mayor Count Montero's brow furrowed slightly.

Fauval, who had rushed over in the same carriage, looked bloated. He lowered his voice, wanting to refute something, but because of his status, he could only suppress his anger and smile meekly.

"Mr. Dikbatov, the medical committee has reached a clear conclusion—"

"Conclusion?" Theodore sneered, picking up the document and glancing back at Charlotte, his eyes no longer showing the disdain he had displayed upon first meeting. "This investigation report is based on extensive sampling and its logical chain is extremely meticulous. It is clear that Ms. Isabella possesses genuine talent and is adept at practical verification. No matter what one says, this cannot be denied."

"I don't believe that stubborn views can lead to a generalization. Behind every treatment method is a gradual breakthrough in medicine. Just like my sister's intractable disease, the progress of science and technology always brings more possibilities. I don't believe that diseases inherited from our bloodline are those unbelievable curses."

"It's good to try. At least the pandemic situation abroad isn't as optimistic as the newspapers say, is it?"

He reasoned with both logic and human sentiment. Although anyone with discernment could hear the underlying condemnation and questioning in his words, the audience fell silent.

After a long pause, the mayor finally spoke, his words carrying a subtle weight of consideration: "Your support for Ms. Valenti is surprising, however..."

He gave Fauval a meaningful look. "It would be a bit frivolous to change the authority of the Medical Council based on one person's words alone. The direction of suppressing the source of the disease is too important; it affects everything. It concerns the people of Florence. Not to mention me, even the council would not dare to make a decision easily. Therefore, facts and assumptions are both indispensable."

"Furthermore, as a physician, Ms. Valenti, you can state the facts and draw these necessary conclusions, but the key question is how we can implement them at this crucial juncture?"

The Count of Montero's words, full of tedium and complications, revealed the difficulty of the situation, which is why Charlotte had always disliked arguing with these lobbyists at the table.

Therefore, she thoughtfully anticipated answers to every question that might appear in the following text, just as—

“It’s very simple.” Raising his eyes, the chestnut-haired man looked straight ahead without any bias and remained calm. “Immediately purify the Rhine River’s water source, set up a river network to divert the flow, build underground drainage facilities in the city, and at the same time issue a notice to the whole city, reminding the public not to drink unboiled river water for the time being.”

"This is unrealistic."

Upon hearing this, the audience on both sides was immediately abuzz with excitement. Without needing anyone else to point it out, the vested interests, seeing that they might also suffer losses, naturally raised their previously hesitant hands and echoed Dean Fowler's denial.

However, Charlotte remained unmoved, staring intently at the two of them as if she needed a definite affirmation.

After all, the image she had to portray was that of a benevolent person who helped others without regard for their own safety, even if it meant hitting a wall.

The clamor echoed through the council chamber, and the hanging chandelier swayed slightly amidst the argument, casting distorted shadows of the crowd onto the floor.

Count Montero's fingers unconsciously caressed the gilded pocket watch, the crisp sound of the metal opening and closing particularly jarring in the silence.

“Ms. Valenti,” he said, his mouth slightly open, his voice carrying a deliberately emphasized helplessness and regret, “you hear the concerns of the crowd. This plan requires a budget of at least two hundred thousand gold pounds. Someone of my rank, a low-ranking official, hardly has the confidence to persuade those at higher levels…”

"Is gold worth more than tens of thousands of living human lives? Don't you see those painful and heartbreaking scenes?"

Without giving any room for retreat, she continued to press on, leaving the victim, a powerless and helpless individual with no one to rely on.

A hush fell over the room. Those words silenced all dissent. No matter what, some things simply couldn't be said openly.

With his somber expression gone, Count Montero nodded with difficulty, as if he had been persuaded, and then addressed the crowd.

"If that's the case, then Ms. Valenti, you and the representatives of the Medical Committee should conduct a joint investigation of the water source in the coming days to determine the root of the problem as soon as possible. After all, human lives are at stake, and if even a doctor has such determination and perseverance, how can I, Count Montero, not set an example?"

“I request that this be reported to Parliament immediately and a meeting be convened.” He stood up, his tone more decisive, yet still leaving room for maneuver and deflection. “Dean Fowler, you will remain as an advisor. The rest of you, meeting adjourned.”

The proposal fell through, the conversation ceased, and as Charlotte walked out of the city hall, dusk had already enveloped Florence, making the thick fog reveal a yellowish hue.

“You’re very bold.” The crowd parted to either side, using her as a dividing line, with only Theodore von’s voice coming from behind. He stopped beside the beautiful woman, his gaze sweeping across the Rhine’s tributary into the distance, “But you’re also quite tactless.”

“Do you know that if your claims are proven true, it means rebuilding the entire water supply system. It also means that all those ‘test reports’ that some people have submitted over the years are worthless.”

“Mr. Theodore von, since you are willing to speak up for me in the meeting, you should also know that breaking through stubbornness requires a tough attitude. Under the layered parliamentary system, the advancement of any policy or even science and technology is extremely inefficient. If simply being tactless can save lives, then I would rather be condemned by thousands and be a perpetually defiant rebuttal than not move forward.”

Charlotte smiled slightly, and the evening breeze stirred her chestnut hair, gilding it in the twilight.

Like a dream, like a painting.

she says:

"I still remember your hostility towards me when we first met. Whether then or just now, it was all because of Miss Eliza. Her illness has been lingering for a long time, and the treatments you have tried have been of little effect. That's why you expressed your dissatisfaction today."