A Reincarnator’s Guide: How to Survive a Victorian-ish Era

When she woke the next morning, she could not utter a single word. As a result, the drinks she carried with her throughout the day changed from plain water to a throat-soothing herbal medicine she had boiled herself based on remedies she had heard from farm women and nuns alike. She would rather drink the strange but undeniably safe concoction of marshmallow root, slippery elm bark, liquorice root, mint, sage, and thyme – sweetened honey only after it had cooled to preserve retain the enzymes and other health benefits that would degrade under heat – than visit a doctor and be prescribed questionable medicine.

The coast had not cleared yet. The storm surrounding food and drug safety still churned beneath society. It was largely unnoticed by commoners, the lower class, and the working poor, yet raging like hurricanes and tidal waves among the upper and middle classes. Newspapers continued to publish updates on banned medicines, shuttered factories, and manufacturers prosecuted for their products. Every publisher and reporter took a stance, offering arguments, debates, and pointed questions regarding the newest regulations. Some even claimed that the Queen was issuing unnecessary orders, as these had long been trusted medicines endorsed by intellectuals… To Jade, it sounded suspiciously like people pointing fingers at the Queen and saying “Stop meddling, you’re a mere woman”.

She skimmed the old newspaper she just received and swallowed another mouthful of the strange potion, wondering whether all of this had anything to do with the stubborn, hot-tempered doctor she had argued with the day before.

None of them won. Lord Ashborne called off the debate without declaring a victor. He merely stated that, as the schools’ patron, Jade, the ragged schoolmistress, was under his watch. It was an indirect warning to the visiting intellectuals: do not take any ruthless action against her, or he would intervene.

I’m not calling him a noble-doe anymore, Jade thought, recalling the cold glare Ashborne had cast at the four doctors – well, she simply assumed they were all doctors since two of them hadn’t bothered to introduce themselves when that shorter man jumped into the debate, not that she cares who they were anyway. She nodded to herself. He shall forever be my respectable Mr. Rich Sponsor, and I shall sincerely pray that he lives a long and healthy life, so I may continue living safely in this world under his umbrella.

Jade took longer than usual to prepare for class that day, mostly to boil yet another pot of throat-soothing potion.

Josh asked tentatively, “Sensei, would you like to cancel the class today? You can’t even speak.”

Jade waved him off and wrote on the blackboard: Guess what I’m drawing.

She turned the lesson into a guessing game. The children were lively – slightly noisy than usual – but still learning, as Jade allowed them to come up one by one to write their answers on the board.

She did not go to the stall that day. Even if she had wanted to, the clergy in the domus would certainly not allow it with her throat in such a state. Nor did she return for several days following. She remained voiceless and only recovered after a full week. In the meantime, she arranged for a few older students from Mr. Anderson’s class to take charge of the stall. Once they were capable of running it on their own, Josh would be freed from the stall duties as well.

Little did Jade know that the debate between herself and Dr. Jonathan Hopspread, which was held under Lord Ashborne’s witness, had spread rapidly among upper and middle class intellectual circles within two days.

“How absurd, for an uneducated maid to speak so boldly.”

“A woman has no place lecturing men of science.”

“Still, her points sounded… reasonable.”

“She may have meant well, speaking for the chimney sweepers, but she was clearly dabbling in theories beyond her understanding.”

“Did you hear? That little schoolteacher argued with a doctor.”

“Unfemine. Nearly vulgar. Lizzy, dear, you mustn’t behave in such a way.”

“And yet – water drowns men, so why would soot not do the same?”

“She has no proof…”

“I heard Dr. Collins is conducting experiments to test her claims.”

“Yes, some laboratories are said to be curious enough to attempt it.”

“How, exactly?”

“By placing rats in cages constantly filled with soot, perhaps?”

“Bah! Animal testing is blasphemous, cruel, and entirely unscientific! How could anyone in their sane mind compare animals with humans?”

Jade, upon hearing the critic’s comments, scribbled on her small blackboard: Yeah. They should use pigs instead of rats if they want a closer comparison to the human body.

Ashborne, who had come to visit Jade after hearing the gossip circulating within his social circle, felt a strange mix of relief and speechlessness as he read what she was trying to convey. It was already the third day since the debate, and she was still voiceless, only capable of producing a hoarse, unusable sound.

“Why pigs, of all animals… Never mind.” Ashborne let out a soft breath. “Miss Jade, they are tarnishing your name, yet you do not seem bothered by it?”

I’m not a noble lady. I’m just a commoner whose name they don’t even bother to remember. And they weren’t going to buy my product anyways, so why bother? Jade wrote in reply. I’m busy making money for my students. No time to spend on such nonsense. Besides, I’m more amazed by their pride in contributing nothing to the world. It’s like their brains are empty, with waters flowing through and washing away every last trace of wisdom.

Ashborne chuckled. Even Mr. Trent, seated slightly behind his employer, raised an eyebrow at her answer.

“Very well. I see the generous schoolmistress is kind enough not to be offended by rumours,” Ashborne said lightly. He was about to move on when he noticed Jade continuing to write, addressing the matter of pigs he had dismissed earlier.

Forensics use pigs to test the time a human corpse takes to degrade and what happens during that process, so it should be possible to use pigs to test human dosages. The words on the blackboard, clamped between Jade’s hand and her thigh, stunned Ashborne – so much so that his eyes widened and his pupils visibly contracted.

Even Mr. Secretary, who always maintained a stolid expression, appeared utterly astonished.

Jade was not aware at first. The thought had simply drifted through her mind, likely picked up from some crime drama or a half-forgotten video she had watched long ago – hardly important knowledge, in her opinion. But when she finally looked up and saw the gentlemen’s expressions, her own eyes widened, too: Dang. A peasant like me shouldn’t know about forensics! Quick. Say something!

“Um…”

“Oh my,” Ashborne said instead, recovering quickly. He smirked, his tone returning to its familiar teasing cadence. “You do possess a talent for turning tea-time conversation into a medical seminar, Miss Jade.”

Jade could only respond with a wry smile.

Still, she pressed on – cringe or not. She wiped the board clean and continued writing: If rat testing succeeds, they will find the interior of the rat’s lungs have turned black. That would be solid proof that soot suffocates and causes death.

Ashborne nodded slowly. “Before such proof emerged, however, Miss Jade, your name will continue to resurface – in salons, conversations, and even the newspapers.”

Great, Jade wrote with a shrug. Free publicity for the school. Better job opportunities for our students.

“Such optimism is admirable,” Ashborne said with a quiet exhale. “But have you considered other ways to protect your lungs, since you are so concerned about this? Your apprentice has been drawing unnecessary attention with that face covering of his, and it seems he refuses to take it off – perhaps to express his support for you.”

I’ll stop letting him go to the stall once other students can take over, Jade replied, quickly erasing the board and continuing. Probably another day or two.The face mask is the only practical option I can think of.

Ashborne hummed, clearly amused. “You have other options.”

Jade nodded, then shook her head emphatically to indicate that she could not pursue them.

“Perhaps I could assist you with those alternatives?” Ashborne suggested.

Jade raised an eyebrow, then furrowed her brows for a long moment before writing: If you can guarantee it won’t turn into another cosmetic industry smearing campaign.

Ashborne let out a soft laugh. “That sounds like another grand affair, Miss Jade.”

Well, equipping every chimney, especially factory chimneys, with air filters, Jade wrote, would of course be a very big affair, SIR.

The nobleman smirked, releasing a quiet huff of amusement. “Try me.”

The schoolteacher studied him. He looked… genuinely excited – despite having already survived the adventurous ordeal of the cosmetic product incident.

With a sigh, she stood and turned toward the large blackboard mounted on the wall. Chalk in hand, she paused, trying to recall anything she knew that might relate to air filtration.

To be honest, she was far more familiar with water filters. Back in her previous life, she had one attached to the tap at home, and she vaguely remembered skimming through life-hack videos and survival techniques. At the very least, she had a rough idea of how a water filter worked.

Air filters, on the other hand, were entirely foreign territory.

At best, Jade had visited a few highly sanitised food factories during her days at the pastry institute. They had air showers, HEPA filters and… high pressure air flow…? Or something of the sort. Clearly, none of that was achievable here.

So… air pollution, soot particles, filtered…

Jade scribbled down her scattered thoughts, including anything she thought might be useful, along with rough illustration meant to explain them.

Charcoal with a porous surface can absorb dust, I think?

Cotton? Wool? Fabrics? Main thing is that it needs to be fine enough to block tiny particles… Multiple layers? But the airflow would be slow, I guess?

Sky gets clearer after rain, so water can wash the soot down? Maybe chemical fumes too. Nasty stuff. Bad for lungs.

Can’t deal with lung problems unless there’s a way to wash out dirty stuff without drowning the patient.

Definitely don’t use asbestos. Gets you lung cancer…

She paused once in a while to let Mr. Trent copied everything down, then wiped the board clean and continued scribbling. Three wipes later, she was out of ideas. The remaining notes were sparse – mostly illustrations with arrows and vague shapes meant to convey concepts rather than words.

She cleaned the board again, turned to Ashborne, and shrugged. Behind her, written on the blackboard, were the words: That’s all I can think of. Can’t do much, honestly.

“And that is already more than I expected, Miss Jade,” Ashborne said calmly, “This is not a one-man job.”

That’s why I said the face mask is my only option, Jade replied, returning to her seat and writing on her smaller board. This is the job of some engineering genius, not me.

Ashborne rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Among all the intellectual professions you could have named, you mentioned engineers.”

Well, they are the problem solvers, no? Jade tilted her head. Scientists figure out the reasons behind the problem, and engineers* deal with the problem, right?

“A fascinating perspective,” Ashborne said with a faint smirk. “And one that convinces me you are, indeed, unfamiliar with the science theories behind many of your statements. Your wit often obscures that fact.”

I’m a CAKE PROFESSIONAL, Jade drew a circle around the words she wrote in large capital letters, and tapped the board to emphasize her point, So you better stop asking me things that aren’t about pastry or school. Deal?

“Hm, I’m afraid I cannot promise restraint I may fail to uphold, Miss Jade,” Ashborne replied with a soft chuckle, clearly entertained by her exaggerated expression.

On the carriage ride back to his estate, Ashborne asked the secretary seated opposite him. “Trent, how much do you suppose I should invest in researching a proper air filter?”

“My Lord,” Mr. Trent replied carefully – inclined as ever not to contradict his employer, and privately agreeing that Miss Jade was often correct, "Following Miss Jade’s line of thought, you should first consult the specialists and conduct proper investigations before committing substantial funds. The cost would depend largely on the results and the expertise employed.”

Ashborne nodded. “Very well. Assemble the necessary parties and begin the investigation. I wish to see results soon – at least some progress within two weeks.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Mr. Trent said already mentally mapping out which contacts and institutions he could approach to secure the appropriate expertise.