When The Silver Bell Of Charlotte's Pharmacy Rings (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 1
Thud, thud!
“I’m coming out now!”
Irina shouted irritably at the clamorous noise cutting through the torrential rain. Beside her, her husband slept soundly, snoring loudly despite the commotion.
“Oh dear, what a bear of a man.”
After giving her husband’s nose a light tap, Ilina kissed his forehead, gathered her loose hair, and tucked it neatly into her head covering. Then she grabbed a blanket, draped it over her shoulders, and lit the oil lamp. All the while, the knocking at the door persisted, mingling with the downpour.
Thud, thud, thud!
“Who is it?”
Ilina cracked open the door without removing the horizontal latch—and instantly jumped in alarm. A man stood there, drenched from head to toe, his face as pale as death, nearly collapsing in the blinding rain.
“Good heavens!”
Ilina gasped and threw the door wide open. The man wore clothes barely better than rags—clearly either scavenged or stolen. Ilina, who occasionally took in sewing work to supplement their income, immediately recognized the once-grand jacket by its faded gray ruffles and precise stitching. Though it must have been quite luxurious once, now soaked and torn on this man’s frame, it was little better than a rag.
“Good grief, what are you doing out here in this rain? Who are you?”
“Ilina, what’s going on?”
Her husband finally awoke, rubbing his eyes as he shuffled into the sitting room. Wiping the fatigue of hard labor still lingering on his face, his eyes widened in shock.
“What on earth!”
“Honey, look at him—he’s about to collapse.”
Ilina’s husband hurried to the door. The man, who had stood motionless in the pouring rain as if already unconscious, slowly lifted his head.
Goodness gracious, Ilina thought. This man might die any second—his face is the color of plaster.
“…Just… a little…”
A faint sound trickled from the man’s lips—a dreadful, grating noise like rusted metal scraping stone.
“What did you say?”
“I’d… like to get out of the rain, if possible. Could I trouble you… for that?”
Ilina glanced at her husband. He, too, looked uneasy at the man’s precarious state—what if he collapsed and died right inside their home?—but the storm was overwhelming. Thunder and lightning crackled ominously over the rooftops, and the wind began howling, heralding a chaotic dawn.
“Of course, come in. Our house is small, but it’s better than outside.”
The man stared directly at Ilina’s husband.
“Really? You’re… inviting me in?”
“Yes! Hurry inside! Good heavens, if we leave you out there another minute, we’ll be dragging your corpse off our doorstep tomorrow!”
“Honey!”
Ilina scolded him softly. But the man, unfazed, suddenly broke into an absurdly cheerful smile.
“Thank you.”
His soaked shoes stepped firmly—one pace—into the house.
The door closed behind him.
[This is the timeline separator]Ting-a-ling—the bell chimed.
Everyone who visited this place always marveled at the sound, yet no one could quite describe it accurately.
Some claimed it resembled the gentle tap on perfectly transparent—absolutely transparent—glass. Others insisted it sounded like brilliant blue—must be brilliantly blue—beads clinking together. A few even likened it to birdsong or the innocent laughter of a baby.
But Charlotte Barrett herself, the owner of this mysterious chime, disagreed with all of them. According to her, “A bell just sounds like a bell.” She insisted the silver bell hanging above her shop was completely ordinary—something anyone could buy if they had the money.
“Excuse me…”
Startled by the bell chiming overhead, the woman cautiously scanned the empty shop. Either the bell or her own voice should have drawn a response, yet no reply came, nor did any footsteps approach from within.
As the door closed, the silver bell gave another ting-a-ling—this time softer, almost like a giggle.
“Excuse me—is anyone here?”
Silence answered once more. Looking flustered, the woman spotted an old stool and sat down. The floorboards creaked beneath her, making her heart lurch.
The shop seemed even smaller inside than it had from outside, crowded wall-to-wall with enormous shelves stretching from behind the counter deep into the hallway. Wherever extra space remained, wide, deep baskets sat filled with dried herbs and twigs.
Bundles of dried flowers and plant stems hung along every wall—sometimes singly, sometimes two or three together. On the jet-black counter surface lay an assortment of bottles filled with tinctures, mortars and pestles, bowls, and scales, all in disarray. But most striking of all was the large warning notice pasted squarely on the front of the counter:
“Do Not Touch Anything.”
The woman swallowed hard and peered into the dim hallway. She thought she heard a faint bubbling sound somewhere—but couldn’t be sure if it was real or imagined. The sharp, herbal scent of tinctures and dried plants filled the air, sweet yet bitter, making her drowsy.
“What are you looking for?”
Just as her eyelids began to droop, a startlingly loud and clear voice snapped her fully awake. She leapt up as if doused with cold water, sending the old stool tumbling pitifully across the floor.
“I-I’m sorry! I just…”
After righting the stool, the woman looked across the counter—and her eyes widened in surprise.
“What’s the matter?”
The woman stammered, her cheeks inexplicably flushing red.
“Ah… I’m sorry. Are you… Miss Charlotte?”
The woman behind the counter blinked her large eyes, then tilted her head and pointed toward the door with a finger—astonishingly pale. Strands of bright silver hair, nearly white in the sunlight, slipped over her shoulder.
“There’s a sign above the door that says, ‘Charlotte Barrett’s Apothecary.’ Didn’t you see it?”
“Oh—no! I mean… yes, I did. That’s why… I came in.”
Charlotte blinked once more, then smiled broadly—a breathtakingly beautiful, gentle smile that could steal one’s breath away.
“I see. My apologies—I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Sometimes strange people show up here asking all sorts of odd questions.”
“I—I didn’t come for that! I really did come to buy medicine…”
Charlotte nodded. Her luminous green eyes, like polished peridot, briefly examined the woman’s hands resting on the countertop. Despite summer not yet having fully faded, she wore long, thick gloves reaching past her wrists.
“That seems to be the case.”
With that, Charlotte braced her arms on the counter like a man might, then gestured toward the woman’s hands with her chin.
“Take off your gloves.”
The woman’s face flushed crimson—shocked, embarrassed, and somewhat offended. Biting her lips nervously, she checked Charlotte’s expression, then rolled up her sleeves and unlatched the glove fastenings.
As she pulled the gloves off, a pained groan escaped her lips. A foul stench of pus and discharge filled the air. Charlotte frowned as she looked at both of the woman’s hands: severe burns stretched from fingertips to wrists, festering without proper healing.
Tears spilled from the woman’s eyes.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“How did this happen?”
“Lye. I dipped my bare hands into lye.”
“By accident?”
The woman shook her head and burst into tears. She clearly had a story—but now wasn’t the time to pry.
Charlotte opened a storage cabinet beneath the shelves and pulled out the softest linen cloth. As the fabric touched the oozing wounds, the woman flinched in pain.
“Don’t move.”
The woman sniffled. Charlotte carefully wiped away the grime covering the entire hand, then opened a shelf to retrieve a flat silver case and a triangular-folded envelope.
“Stretch your fingers out as far as you can.”
“It hurts.”
“I know. Try anyway.”
Swallowing her groan, the woman obeyed. Charlotte opened the silver case, scooped out lilac-colored ointment with a small rod, and gently spread it over the wounds. Then she took a pinch of powder from the envelope and sprinkled it using the tip of another stick.
“The smell will be awful, but bear with it. Ointment alone won’t heal these wounds quickly.”
“Will they heal at all?”
“Had you not worn gloves in this heat just to hide your wounds, they’d have healed faster—or if you’d applied ointment right after dipping your hands in lye. It seems you’ve received no treatment at all. What happened?”
The woman scrunched her nose and trembled her lips.
“I couldn’t leave—the mistress was watching me.”
Charlotte tilted her head in confusion.
“The mistress? Which mistress?”
“Baroness Lireld. I work at her house… Recently, she accused me of stealing her favorite earrings. I truly didn’t steal them! But they were found in my room… in my drawer! Then she called me wicked and said I deserved punishment…”
“So she made you dip your hands in lye?”
The woman nodded. Tears dripped steadily—even onto the freshly medicated skin of her hands.
Once the ointment had soaked in, Charlotte wrapped the wounds in clean linen and asked,
“You truly didn’t steal them?”
The woman’s eyes widened indignantly.
“I really didn’t! I’ve worked in that house for six years! If I’d wanted to steal something, I would have done it long ago. And those earrings… they weren’t even particularly valuable—just something the mistress cherished…”
“What did the earrings look like?”
The woman’s lips drooped as she stifled a sob.
“Pearl earrings—but even to my eyes, they weren’t top quality. Not especially pretty, and slightly scratched… Lately, I think the mistress has been acting odd. I know it’s wrong to say this, but sometimes she seems… like she’s lost her mind!”
When male lead is the homewrecker
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
I’ve read the novel below twice already. Girls, I’m highly recommending it to you!
The female lead? Not a good person.
The second male lead? Not a good person.
The male lead? Willingly plays the third party, breaking up the female and second male lead’s relationship despite all the warnings from his friends—so yeah, he’s definitely not a good person either.
Basically, nobody in this novel is simple-minded or without scheming.
The female lead starts off as the male lead’s secretary, but don’t worry—later on, she takes over the company while the male lead steps back to support her. He won’t steal her spotlight, overshadow her, or dull her shine.
I love novels where men are out here snatching wigs, tearing each other down, and going to war just to win the female lead’s affection. And this is exactly that kind of novel. Most of Hai Dai Ran’s works have this dynamic. You’ll see the male characters’ emotions being pushed to the absolute extreme.
There’s even a scene where the second male lead exposes the male lead online for being a homewrecker. The brotherhood immediately gangs up on him, dragging him through the mud. I find it compelling —it completely flips reality on its head, where usually, women are the ones fighting over a man and getting torn apart by the sisterhood.
For me, female leads in the novels I read should only struggle in their careers, not in love. But if the brainless romantics in the story are all men? I have zero complaints.
I’ve pretty much read all of Hai Dai Ran’s novels and even translated all of them—her works are just my thing. I’ll slowly upload everything here. One day, when my website is official, I hope I can invite her to join as one of the star authors.
Here’s the story synopsis:
One-line summary: She is his lifelong obsession, to the point where he was willing to be a third wheel, scorned by society, just to wedge his way into her relationship with her fiancé.
Cold-hearted and indifferent female lead + Scheming and subservient CEO male lead
Intro 1:
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
With blood trickling from his clenched fist, Rong Xiu gazed at the woman before him, his eyes clouded with anguish. Hidden in the wardrobe, he had witnessed Fan Xia – the woman he desperately loved – in an intimate embrace with her fiancé. Yet his heart still yearned for her, defying all reason.
Fan Xia, the elegant and composed assistant, carried something mysterious in her eyes whenever she looked at her fiancé, Wen Lan Sheng. Strange occurrences began to surface – secret meetings with the young Gu Jin Yi, an unexplained withdrawal of 5,000 yuan… Then suddenly, her fiancé’s sister, Wen Jing, violently attacked her.
In this matriarchal society, Rong Xiu had risen to become the chairman of a powerful healthcare conglomerate, breaking through gender prejudices. But for the first time, he willingly stepped into the shadows as the other man, disregarding his friends’ warnings to become her secret lover.
Because he had discovered the truth – Fan Xia wasn’t the pure angel everyone believed her to be. And perhaps, he was the only one capable of helping her execute her mysterious plan…
Intro 2:
Rong Xiu’s biggest regret in life was missing out on Fan Xia.
He secretly loved Fan Xia for 7 years.
Watched her go public with her boyfriend.
Watched her kiss her boyfriend at their wedding.
Until that man blissfully nestled in Fan Xia’s arms, obtaining everything he could only dream of.
The crazy jealousy stripped away his hidden secret love, layer by layer, burning like wildfire.
Fan Xia, how can I have you!
【Reading and Trigger Warning Guide】
1. Female dominant, male submissive, male pregnancy
2. Male lead schemes his way to the top, male competition
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Please help me, I want to bring you the best possible things.
If you find any chapter or novel with poor translation and editing quality, let me know by commenting directly under that novel or chapter. I will retranslate it as soon as possible.
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To be honest, Tae Mi is my favorite character in this novel.
Wow that’s grotesque. I didn’t think this novel was going to be so gorey