Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Not only her wrists, but also her ankles and groin, had many small cuts that damaged her skin. However, these were covered by thick clothing so that the polyester didn't seep through and become visible.

Charlotte didn't reply, but instead took out disinfectant cotton and bandages from her medical kit, gracefully placed them in front of the coffee table, and deftly cleaned the wound.

She could certainly sense the lingering spiritual energy above, but given her current status as an ordinary doctor, any further questioning would only elicit an embarrassing evasion.

If there's no result, then there's no point.

Her concern was merely for the sake of greater enjoyment; offering help in a simple and unassuming manner was the best way to play the role.

Stung by the pain of her wound, Melina frowned but did not pull away or struggle.

Although she was wary, the sight and demeanor of Isabella, who was also from Tingen and had such a good reputation, gave her a sense of peace and security.

It was precisely because of the perfect sense of distance, and the perfect match between reality and persona, that she found it difficult to be wary.

“The wound is clean; it was caused by a sharp weapon,” Charlotte said softly, pressing her fingertips lightly on the edge, causing the little parrot to hiss once or twice. “Besides, your dodging movements are very practiced—this isn’t the first time you’ve been injured.”

Melina blinked, then suddenly laughed: "Doctor, are you interrogating me?"

“I’m just stating the facts.” Charlotte glanced up at her. “If you don’t want to say, I won’t press you.”

The emerald parrot tilted its head, scrutinizing her closely, a sly glint flashing in its amber eyes. "What if I said it was scratched by a fierce little dog?"

“Then I suggest you stay away from those dogs next time.” Her answer remained calm, but her hands continued moving. “Or, at least learn simple bandaging, learn basic camouflage, so that you won’t be seen through at a glance.”

Melina chuckled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Watching the beautiful woman before her skillfully wrap the bandages, she suddenly asked softly, "Are you this...helpful to every stranger?"

“No.” Without saying more, Charlotte simply put away the medical supplies and placed her dusty coat on the clothesline. “It was just an extra service from my roommate, just for another injured fellow countryman.”

The chestnut-haired girl paused for a moment, a hint of embarrassment rising on her face, and muttered softly, "Then I really hit the jackpot."

There was silence after that. After a long while, the latter gathered her clothes and, unable to bear the loneliness any longer, asked.

"Dr. Bella, aren't you curious why I traveled all the way to Florence?"

"Now you've brought up this issue, even if I had remained silent, you would have told me anyway."

Charlotte pressed her fingertips down on the pen, lit a candle, and wrote today's medical report in the soft glow of the candlelight.

The little parrot is a lively and cheerful person. She is talkative and witty, and she also has her own insights and will. Therefore, she will naturally chirp twice when she receives such a subtle teasing.

"While sticking to the facts is a good persona, Dr. Bella, could you please refrain from using it in casual conversation? It really takes away a lot of the fun between us."

Between you and me?

"Of course, you helped me out of a difficult situation with Mrs. Savarin, and the same goes for this wrist injury. So even if it's just a doctor's kindness, I will still consider you a friend."

As Melina spoke, she suddenly took a few steps closer, placed her hands on the edge of Charlotte's desk, and leaned slightly forward.

“And—” she drawled, “aren’t you concerned about how I got hurt? Of course I’m willing to tell you.”

The close proximity, the warm breath brushing against her skin, caused Charlotte's pen to pause slightly, the ink spreading a small shadow on the paper.

In fact, she roughly knew the reason why the little sparrow left home. Although Watson's personal sacrifice subsided like a splash of water, it still stirred up ripples in Tingen. The nobles who were at the top were left to gnaw on the remains like wolves, either waiting for the relaxation of the people's policies or for further exploitation.

Melina's family belonged to the latter group, so inspired by these ideas, she naturally did not want to oppress others, which led to an irreconcilable conflict with her stubborn father.

Simply expressing a desire for equality was seen as disobedience, and her lively and cheerful personality, which differed from that of a wealthy young lady, was labeled as rude and humiliating in her remarks.

and so--

Did you choose to leave home?

As Charlotte finished speaking, she concluded her story about the little parrot.

"Well... no matter what, I can't lay a hand on my father who gave me life and raised me. Before he became a nobleman, he was so kind and gentle. But time has changed too much."

"He rebuked my actions as an insult to the surname, and perhaps that was indeed how he saw it. I had no intention of seeking recognition, so I came to this capital alone to interpret my own thoughts."

She lowered her head silently, and even though she didn't mention it, there was still some disappointment on Melina's face. Fortunately, the candlelight was dim and concealed the redness in her eyes.

Fortunately-

“Dr. Bella, since arriving in Florence, you are the first person to show me goodwill and be willing to listen to these long-winded remarks. Even though we are not familiar with each other, even though we have only met once, so…”

"Thank you."

Chapter 151 Urgent

Hearing the words of gratitude, Charlotte paused for a moment on the paper with her pen, then gently put it down and stopped drawing.

"No need to thank me." She looked up at Melina, her voice still steady, but softer than usual. "Everyone has their own choices, and your courage deserves respect."

Melina blinked, then suddenly burst into laughter, her eyes brighter than before, as if she had instantly dispelled most of the gloom.

“Dr. Bella, you know what? Sometimes I really wonder if you can read minds,” she said half-jokingly, tapping the table lightly with her fingertips. “Otherwise, how could you always say the right thing at the perfect moment?”

Charlotte tilted her head slightly, a very faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

Because that was done on purpose, just for you, little bird.

"If I could really read minds, I probably wouldn't have chosen to become a doctor."

"So what can you do?" the little parrot asked curiously, tilting its head slightly.

“Maybe I’ll become a fortune teller, or a gypsy girl.” Lowering her eyelashes, her fingertips lightly traced the medical report on the corner of the table. “At least that way I can openly tell others—‘I know everything about your heart,’ so don’t even think about lying to me.”

Melina was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter, her shoulders trembling slightly.

"My goodness, Dr. Bella, you can actually joke!" She covered her mouth, her amber eyes curving into crescents. "This is truly, truly unexpected."

Charlotte didn't reply, but just looked at her quietly, a barely perceptible hint of pleasure flashing in her eyes.

Melina finished laughing and then became a little more serious, but a smile still lingered on her lips.

“But honestly, someone with your personality is quite rare in Florence.” She tilted her head, her tone light. “Most people are either hypocritical and polite, or cold and distant. Someone like you…”

After a pause, as if carefully choosing her words, the girl said, "Someone as gentle yet direct as you is quite special."

"Is that so? Life is full of suffering, I just did what an ordinary person should do."

She gently closed the medical report, the soft candlelight casting shadows beneath her long eyelashes.

"The things that ordinary people should do? That's too nonchalant, Dr. Bella. You seem to have forgotten that most people in this world are too lazy to even do the most basic pretense."

Charlotte looked up again and met his gaze calmly.

"So, you're praising me?"

“Of course! But—” Melina drawled, then leaned closer and lowered her voice, “I always feel that you have a special kind of charm.”

"Oh?"

She raised an eyebrow slightly, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the metal cap of the pen. "For example?"

Could it be that this little parrot saw through the disguise? Just like Winnie's keen observation, just like seeing through the true face hidden beneath the mask.

“For example,” Melina said, glancing around mysteriously as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping, before continuing, “you seem like someone who has a story to tell.”

“I have always been interested in dramatic biographical poems. Your ability to become such a virtuous person must be inseparable from the shaping of your environment. This may be impolite, but as an author, curiosity is always the key to inspiring ideas.”

After a pause and a moment of silence, Charlotte smiled, seemingly nonchalantly but actually trying to suppress a laugh.

Well, it seems this lively little parrot hasn't thought that far ahead or seen that clearly; it's just acting out of curiosity.

"Everyone has their own story, Miss Melina. You spoke out against the injustices suffered by the people and left home for your own ideals. This first chapter is already wonderful enough."

"My story is uneventful; it's simply a doctor's confession, a tale of many people and experiences. Some succumbed to suffering, others transformed through struggle; I merely happened to be in a position where I could reach out..."

Listening intently, Melina stared at the beautiful woman for a long time before letting out a soft sigh, "You're so strange, Dr. Bella. You speak of nothing but indifference, yet do the most tender things."

There was no response. Charlotte simply capped her pen and closed the cover of the medical report, plunging the room into silence, broken only by the occasional crackling of the candlelight.

After a while, the chestnut-haired girl stretched and her tone became cheerful again: "However, in any case, I am very happy to have met you."

She stood up, her skirt swaying slightly. "Thank you for your kindness in taking me in. I will pay the rental fee as per the contract. It's getting late, so I'll go back to my room now. I have to go to the newspaper office tomorrow for a job interview and to submit my article."

"Submission?"

“Yes!” Melina’s eyes sparkled. “I wrote some articles about the current state of ordinary people’s lives, hoping to attract some attention.” After a pause, the girl added, “Although it probably won’t attract much attention, it’s better than doing nothing.”

"Well then, good luck, young lady."

This is the prelude to bidding farewell to the night.

"Well, Dr. Bella, this is for you, and please get some rest as well."

Melina took a sachet from the inside pocket of her shirt and placed it on the coffee table. Then, she turned and moved, her skirt fluttering like a butterfly's wing across the doorway.

"See you tomorrow."

The soft click of the door closing echoed. Without needing to untie the straps, her spiritual vision revealed the object the little parrot had given her clearly—a talisman identical to the one from before.

The blindingly bright light and the confusion of sight and sound weaken the senses, making one's own existence seem less important.

That's a talisman that automatically triggers when exposed to spiritual fluctuations; it's for her protection.

Did he, however, win the girl's favor? It seems that despite being deceived by Watson, Melina still stubbornly sticks to her own opinion.

However, how can the desire for fairness and the expression of public opinion be fulfilled in this era?

Charlotte ran her fingertips along the fabric of the sachet, thinking to herself how foolish the former was, but in the end, she still tied it around her waist and couldn't help but smile.

It's been too long since I've felt the satisfaction of being cared for and cherished by Little Sparrow.

Goodnight, Melina.

As the sudden rain outside the window subsided and moonlight pierced through the clouds, she whispered to the empty front hall, her voice carrying a honey-like, sticky smile. Only the still dressing mirror reflected her appearance at that moment—the curve of her lips was perfect, as if measured, but her eyes held an indifferent gaze that would never melt away.

Outside, the rustling of Mrs. Savarin's voice drifted by; the off-key melody mingled with the sound of dewdrops sliding across the eaves, and dawn was breaking once more.

Donning a pure white coat, Charlotte slowly left the house. Today was the day she and her medical committee would investigate, hoping to encounter some unexpected events.

This made her somewhat impatient.

Chapter 152 Illness and Treatment Greed

The misty morning fog, like a thick veil, enveloped the Rhine River.

Charlotte stood alone on the riverbank, her boots crushing a loose stone slab, sending scattered pebbles rolling into the murky water without even causing a ripple.

The medical committee's investigation team had already assembled in front of the city hall, with Dean Fowler standing at the very front, wearing his usual hypocritical smile.

“Ms. Valenti, you’ve come at the right time.” The man bowed slightly, raising his voice deliberately so that the surrounding pedestrians could hear him. “I hope you will follow the standard procedures of the Medical Committee for today’s on-site investigation.”

He added pointedly, "After all, science requires rigor, not... conjecture."

Without answering, Charlotte glanced behind him, where three men and women dressed in cotton robes and wearing cloak-shaped masks were huddled together. They were as silent as statues, the visors on their long-beaked masks letting in the murky light of the sky, and not a single inch of their skin was exposed.

She looked away and simply nodded in response.

"Of course, the truth is never afraid of being tested, and we can't wait another day or night."

Charlotte's voice was soft, yet unusually clear in the morning mist. She walked slowly toward the riverbank, her boots clicking crisply on the wet, slippery stones. Fowle's dry smile froze for a moment, then he gestured for the three raven-masked men to follow.

Behind the goggles, six pairs of eyes were fixed on the former's back with rather complicated expressions.

As time goes by, the Rhine River, once so clear that people could see each other's faces through its surface, has lost its original simplicity and become polluted by industrial wastewater.

"Madam, let's begin taking samples."

A deep, somber voice emanated from beneath the mask. Fowle would never stoop to such a task, so only nominal members of the medical committee were accompanying him on the investigation.

"Based on your suggestion and the standards and norms, if the disease is indeed transmitted through water, then the problem should originate upstream."

It wasn't a reprimand, and unlike the arrogance of that dean, the three people on this trip didn't show any disrespect. On the contrary, they maintained a businesslike demeanor.

However, the mask concealed their true feelings, making them appear particularly cold and unapproachable to each other.

In fact, Charlotte knew that even if her hypothesis challenged so-called authority, not all doctors were ignorant fools who could carry their deep-seated consciences. What truly influenced their judgment was the weight of their interests.

It's clear to everyone that if the pathogen is confirmed to have originated from the Rhine River, then changing the city's water supply structure will be inevitable, and the resources consumed in this process will be immeasurable, making it impossible for anyone to back down.

The history of the past, and the depth of knowledge about the medical field, were gradually accumulated through repeated lessons. If we were to give an example, Isabella would be a pioneer who drove the wave of reform, a pioneer who cared deeply for the world and had a clear conscience.

This is certainly admirable, but unfortunately, the fate of such people is often—

sacrifice.

Passing through the low, bulky buildings, at the entrance to the lower city, the river flows so slowly that it makes almost no sound. All the factories along the river rely on this natural water power, yet they unabashedly discharge their waste into it.

While the development of the steam engine certainly spurred an increase in productivity, the pursuit of efficiency and the flow of wealth led most people to overlook the severity of pollution. Compared to Tingen, Florence, despite its reputation as the "City of a Thousand," was in reality just a shrouded, oppressive city shrouded in mist.

Beneath the rusty iron railing, a loose pebble rolled into the murky river, failing to even create a ripple. It was a sticky, leaden gray, with oil and unidentified flocculent matter floating on its surface, emitting a pungent chemical odor.