Chapter 29: Big Star

To be honest, Rosie’s first experience with a carriage wasn’t great.

The main streets were paved with granite, which was decent enough, but as they turned into the lanes and alleyways, the builders started cutting corners, just casually using some gravel to get by.

When the road conditions were severe, the bumps and lurches, coupled with a coin slot and a couple of children’s songs, could have passed it off as a kiddie ride in a shopping mall.

Anyway, since she couldn’t eat it, Rosie adopted an “out of sight, out of mind” policy.

She didn’t look at the man who was feasting away, but instead turned her head to gaze at the scenery outside the window, intending to understand the local customs and gather some intelligence at the same time.

They were currently traveling on a main street.

The architectural styles on both sides of the road were diverse, with artistic patterns made of colorful tiles often seen on the walls.

The use of glass was very common, the sidewalks were clearly separated from the road, and the basic landscaping was also well done.

It seemed the local government was quite wealthy.

Turning into a residential area, the architectural style changed from large-span buildings to terraced houses formed by townhouses.

The entrances were located on the ground floor of the buildings, with canopies, often featuring triangular gables.

The roofs were high and steep with overhangs, and there were decorative elements protruding from the roof gables, usually carvings or lace-like outlines.

Bay windows and balconies with iron railings were also standard features.

It was still early, and the oil lamps or gas lamps on both sides of the road had not yet been lit.

All sorts of pedestrians came and went through the streets and alleys.

Their clothing styles were not as conservative as Rosie had imagined.

Although most men wore formal attire, there were also young people in casual dress.

The women’s clothing styles were even more open.

Those like her, with skirts reaching their ankles, were in the minority.

Simple and light outfits were the primary choice.

Of course, perhaps limited by the era or the current mainstream aesthetic, the dress decorations could never escape lace and frills.

“Fried fish, fried fish, fresh fried fish just caught from the port!”

“Ginger beer, cool and refreshing ginger beer, only one penny!”

“Saint Margaret’s brand ice cream, Miss Moulton ate it and said it was good! Three pence for one, only five pence for two!”

Rosie, “…”

‘It seems I’m a minor celebrity after all.’

Ignoring the teasing gaze shooting over from the opposite side, Rosie fell into deep thought.

How should she put it?

This era didn’t seem to have stepped into the age of electricity yet.

After all, carriages, oil lamps, and gas lamps were still very common.

But in some places, it showed characteristics that transcended the era.

Was this because of the existence of ‘Covenanters,’ a group with supernatural powers?

‘No phone calls or video chats, but telepathy and magic mirror conference calls are possible?’

‘So weird…’

Amidst these complex emotions, the carriage drove into a quiet and peaceful area.

The residences here were no longer terraced houses but large, detached villas that were more like manors.

The attire of the pedestrians walking on the roadside changed once again.

The women’s clothing was intricate and complex, the men’s exquisite and refined, and they were surrounded by a large entourage.

The female attendants mostly wore long dresses in black, gray, or navy blue, paired with white aprons.

The male uniforms resembled court attire: knee-length coats, metal buttons and epaulets, long striped vests, breeches, leggings, and buckled shoes.

They followed behind their masters and mistresses, almost at their beck and call, and did their work in an orderly manner.

‘The evils of capitalism.’

Rosie sighed in her heart.

This should be the area mainly inhabited by nobles and wealthy merchants.

In other words, she was almost home.

As the carriage went deeper, the scenery on both sides of the street gave Rosie an increasing sense of déjà vu.

It was probably Miss ‘Moulton’ being moved by the scene, awakening some deep memories in her mind.

Norma Moulton, Ted Moulton—several names inexplicably surfaced in her mind, both familiar and strange.

Although she felt a blood connection, she couldn’t remember what the people represented by these two names looked like, or what their personalities were.

For ‘Rosie Moulton,’ they were relatives she could meet but couldn’t remember.

Coincidentally, this matched with ‘Lin Yu’s’ relatives, whom he could remember but couldn’t meet.

Her heart felt empty, with only a desolate sorrow remaining.

‘It’s a pity I don’t have a smartphone. Otherwise, I could post a status on my Moments or write a post on Bilibili, XXXXXX, for your information, to vent all my angsty, youthful literary sentiments. I might even get a few shares and likes.’

While her thoughts were running wild, the carriage slowly came to a stop.

Yvette Lambe, who was beside her, reminded her in a business-like tone:

“Miss Moulton, we have arrived in front of Viscount Moulton’s residence.”

After speaking, she got out of the carriage first, then extended a hand to help Rosie get down.

Yvette would be temporarily staying in this mansion to ensure the ‘personal safety’ of the key ‘witness,’ Rosie Moulton.

“Thank you.”

To be fair, the footboard for getting off this carriage was indeed quite a distance from the ground.

In the past, Lin Yu could have just jumped down casually.

If he were feeling playful, he could even strike a diver’s ready pose and do a “wild goose landing on flat sand” move.

But times were different now.

She was now the big star endorsing Saint Margaret’s brand ice cream, the viscount’s eldest daughter, Rosie Moulton.

With so many eyes watching, who knew which one was a neighbor or an acquaintance from a banquet.

She had a persona to maintain, it was out of her hands.

Rosie sighed softly in her heart, took Yvette’s arm, stepped out with her left leg first, then gently gathered her long skirt with her other hand.

The soft fabric pressed against the inside of her thigh, outlining a beautiful curve.

Then she stepped out with her right leg, disembarking from the carriage like a perfect lady.

Rosie (smiling), ‘I have left the capsule, condition is good.’

The evening wind blew, messing up the strands of hair at her temples.

A voice that had recently become somewhat familiar drifted to her ears.

“Goodbye, Miss Moulton. And, thank you for the Pusey pie.”

Rosie tidied her hair, tucking the strands behind her ear, then took a large step—no, a small step forward, heading towards the mansion.

‘Hmm, the wind is too strong. Did someone say something?’

‘Can’t hear, can’t hear.’

This mansion belonging to Viscount Moulton was not very ostentatious in its design.

Besides the garden, lawn, and stables, there was only a single, multi-story villa.

The villa was predominantly reddish-brown, with a pointed roof.

The windows protruded from the walls of the house, and there were corridors and balconies surrounded by railings outside.

The exterior walls were covered with fish-scale-like wooden shingles, and there was a turret and square pillars, giving the entire building a meticulously carved feel.

Rosie walked in front, with Yvette following behind.

She stood before the door, reached out a hand, but then paused in mid-air, looking somewhat hesitant.

“Young Miss?”

A somewhat elderly-sounding voice reached her ears.

On the other side of the iron gate, a man with salt-and-pepper brown hair stood by a bush, looking over.

Rosie turned her head, looking at the man dressed like a butler, and frowned slightly.

“White?”