Chapter 30: Real Materials

The old butler, known as White, quickly walked to the door, somewhat disregarding etiquette.

He pulled open the iron gate, his expression quite agitated.

“Young Miss, you…”

Mid-sentence, he noticed several scrutinizing gazes sweep over them.

White immediately reined in his emotions, turned slightly, and bowed respectfully and politely, saying, “Welcome home, Young Miss. Your journey must have been tiring; I’ll immediately instruct the maids to prepare hot water for you.”

‘Oh wow, you’re quite the old actor!’

As a rising star of the new era – no, a little flower – Rosie was about to have her first scene with an opposing actor.

To be honest, aside from remembering that the other party was named White and had been the Moulton family’s old butler for over twenty years, she knew absolutely nothing else about him.

However, facing such a person, Rosie had a natural advantage in her identity: the other party had to answer her, but she could choose whether or not to respond depending on the situation, which made things easier.

“Mm.”

Rosie nodded, not saying much more.

Only after the three of them had walked into the villa’s garden, away from the street, did White lower his voice.

“Young Miss, you’ve finally returned.”

“In the past few days of your disappearance, the Viscount and Viscountess were extremely worried and have already made several trips to the Church and the police station.”

Judging by the old butler’s demeanor, although the Moulton couple was anxious, they chose to suppress the news of her disappearance and entrusted the Church and the police with a covert investigation.

That made sense; after all, ‘Rosie Moulton’ was a young lady in the prime of her life who had just celebrated her coming-of-age ball, possessed a prominent family background, and outstanding looks.

Without a marriage arranged, if news of a few days’ disappearance were to spread, circulating in several versions, it would be like a saintess getting lost and ending up in a goblin nest—a crème puff indeed.

Regarding matters of reputation, every noble held them in the highest regard.

Extremists would even expel children who ‘disgraced the family name.’

Having understood this, Rosie didn’t elaborate much, simply stating, “Just a small issue.”

“This is Miss Yvette Lambe, an inspector from the city police department.”

“Please instruct the household to prepare a clean guest room for her; she will be staying here tonight.”

‘Honestly, having the power to give orders as I please feels pretty good.’

‘Darn capitalism, it’s already starting to corrupt my soul.’

Rosie sighed a little to herself.

“Yes, Young Miss.”

Having been a butler for over twenty years, White always kept one phrase in mind.

Do more, ask less.

He turned and slightly nodded to Yvette, “Officer Lambe, do you have any requests for the room?”

“As close to Miss Moulton’s room as possible would be fine.”

Yvette was also a person of few words.

“Understood.”

After that, the three of them did not converse.

When they encountered a few male and female servants working along the way, they merely stepped aside to make way, slightly nodding and offering a greeting as Rosie passed.

“Young Miss.”

‘Alright, Rosie initially found it quite enjoyable, but now it’s getting a bit awkward.’

‘After all, just a few days ago she was a boy, and now she’s being called “Young Miss” repeatedly.’

‘If she weren’t still walking, she would have cringed hard enough to carve out a three-bedroom, two-living-room basement from the Viscount Moulton’s mansion.’

Entering the villa, the first floor housed the grand hall, which also served as a large ballroom for ordinary banquets.

The second, third, and fourth floors were hollowed out above the hall, with no obstructions above, and a vintage-style full-copper crystal chandelier hung from the dome.

It seemed that for the convenience of holding banquets, the hall floor was covered with tiles, rather than carpets.

The furniture was mostly antique oak with ‘carvings,’ and the overall color scheme was quite rich, with curtains and wallpaper primarily in red, blue, and brown, complemented by floral or patterned decorations.

“Young Miss, the Viscount and young master are still out on business and have not yet returned.”

“The Viscountess, on the other hand, is in the second-floor drawing-room receiving His Grace, the Bishop of the Church of Truth.”

Rosie breathed a sigh of relief; this was actually good news.

After all, they were blood relatives, and there was a chance they might see through her disguise as an impostor.

The fewer she saw, and the later she saw them, the better.

“I understand, you may go about your duties.”

“Yes.”

White placed his right hand over his chest, gave a slight nod, and departed; he was likely going to instruct the servants to prepare the room.

‘Ah, what’s that saying, “You can’t tell a mule from a horse until you take it for a spin”?

No, that sounds like I’m cursing myself.

It should be, “An ugly daughter-in-law will eventually have to meet her in-laws.”’

‘……’

‘That sounds even stranger.’

The staircase leading to the second floor was covered with a deep blue carpet, and at the landing, there were two stained-glass windows, one tall and one short.

Unfortunately, Rosie was not in the mood to appreciate the meticulously crafted artwork at the moment.

The moment she stepped onto the second-floor landing, Rosie heard a rather faint meow.

“Meow~”

The next second, a strangely familiar, slightly weary, gentle voice spoke.

“Miko.”

For some reason, even though she felt no bitterness or swelling in her heart, Rosie’s misty-blue eyes instantly welled up with moisture, like a continuous April rain hanging on her cheeks, or clear spring water softly trickling over rocks, casting down an unspeakable sense of grievance.

Only when Rosie noticed the warm sensation did she belatedly realize.

She was crying.

And it was the uncontrollable kind; in just an instant, tears blurred her vision.

In that moment, Rosie actually felt fear.

Yes, fear – this reaction, completely beyond her control, could only originate from one person.

The real ‘Rosie Moulton.’

‘Had she not died, but merely had her consciousness fall into a deep slumber, her soul still lingering in this body, intertwined with me, the male high school student named Lin Yu?’

‘Or perhaps it wasn’t so mystical, just a more advanced physiological response?’

As she was pondering, another kitten’s roar sounded.

“Meow~ Meow~ Meow!!!”

Then, she was assaulted on the chest.

Rosie instinctively raised a hand, cupping it beneath her ample chest; through the soft fabric, a small something was restlessly squirming there.

She wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, sniffled, and glanced down.

She couldn’t see the actual culprit, only a small, white, paw-padded claw attempting to conquer the mountain range, bravely scaling Mount Everest.

‘Yes, in terms of scale, it was indeed a mountain range of that magnitude.’

Rosie, “……”

‘How could she possibly remain fearful or sad now?’

Rosie lifted her arm outward and saw a small tuft of white fur and drooping kitten ears.

“Meow~”

The cat meowed again, and then the little creature lifted its head, its emerald-green gem-like eyes staring unblinkingly at the biped it hadn’t seen in a long time.

‘This was ‘Rosie Moulton’s’ cat; was it called Miko?’

As she pondered, the little furball in her arms became restless again, beginning a cat’s favorite activity when bored.

Kneading.

But this time, Miko was kneading something real.