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"You must have a headache," the red-haired man laughed. "Grind it into powder and mix it with water." He grinned. "Such a beautiful lady, would you grant me a kiss?"
Hedy paused for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
She needed to save as much money as possible, to make some future plans.
In this unfamiliar place, only silver coins were truly useful for survival.
Over the past few nights, she had hidden her earrings under tree roots, placed rings inside roof tiles, and even made a quick trip outside the city to bury the last piece of jewelry in an isolated spot.
Returning to the twentieth century seemed impossible now, so she had to be cautious at every turn.
That one kiss saved her twenty soldi, equivalent to forty days of her wages.
Hedy quickly bought everything on the list and hurried back to the workshop to report.
The great artist had finally started on his sketches, lifting his pen and glancing at her as he raised an eyebrow.
"Did you get it?"
Hedy, nearly dropping the box in her rush, placed it quickly in front of him. "Got it."
"How much did that crooked merchant charge you?" Da Vinci opened the box and looked at the piece inside. "The quality is pretty good."
"He..." Hedy hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. "He only asked me to kiss him."
Da Vinci, who had been looking down at the piece of mummy, suddenly chuckled when he heard this. "He would ask for something like that—you're definitely beautiful. A kiss was too cheap for him."
Hedy froze for a moment, thinking to herself that this man was surprisingly easygoing.
She suddenly remembered how, at nineteen, whenever she walked into a barber shop, everyone would instinctively fall silent, and countless gazes would linger on her, as if unable to look away.
Her elderly mindset shifted slightly, and she began to look back.
In her later years, she had grown used to the media's ridicule and mockery. She had closed herself off, and the reason she rarely left the house was because of excessive plastic surgery, which had shattered her mental state long ago.
Now, even though she truly had returned to her youthful form, she still unconsciously viewed herself as a clumsy old woman, and looking in the mirror felt strange.
But when Da Vinci complimented her, she suddenly felt much lighter.
I... I really am a young girl now.
And a beautiful one, at that.
"Then... should I give you those twenty soldi back?" she asked instinctively.
"No need, keep them," Da Vinci shook the box in his hand. "This is the largest piece of mummy I've ever gotten."
After spending some time together, the two of them had gradually grown more comfortable with each other.
Leonardo was only twenty-six, living mostly in his own little world. Occasionally, friends would come to visit, and he spoke with warmth and kindness.
Hedy helped him organize the easel and other tools, but she couldn't help but ask another question. "Sir, may I see your paints?"
"You like these things?" Da Vinci, having grown tired of painting and wanting to rest, generously stepped aside. "Here they are."
It was clear there were no modern paints, with tubes or such—six or seven jars were grouped together, each containing different pigments.
Hedy suddenly remembered that modern paints were chemical compounds, but back then, chemistry as a science hadn’t even formed yet. How did people paint?
