Autumn in Milan is like a faded oil painting, with golden ginkgo leaves covering the square in front of the Scal Opera House. Carlotta stands on the steps, watching the crowd disperse, tightly holding the sheet music filled with Chinese annotations. Ivan’s words still echo in her ears—"To be grateful and kind to the world," it’s not empty moral preaching, but a way of life, an inner belief.
She turns to look at her father, Augustus Balberini, who is exchanging pleasantries with several aristocratic friends, his silver-gray hair glowing softly in the sunset.
"Father," Carlotta walks over, her voice gentle but firm, "I want to go to China."
Augustus stops talking and looks at his daughter. Her eyes are as clear as ever, but beneath them lies sothing he’s never seen before, not the reserve of the nobility, not the sensitivity of an artist, but a near-resilient gentleness forged through disaster.
Carlotta continues, "Professor Ivan suggested that I thank Professor Yang in another way, not through a face-to-face bow, not with a foundation nad after him, but... by helping those who need help, setting up a fund to aid impoverished burn survivors, encouraging them with my story, helping them economically, supporting them spiritually."
She pauses: "I can do a concert tour thed around burn survivors, raising awareness of their plight. I can play piano on stage and tell my story, not as a Balberini family princess, but as soone once disfigured, thought never to be able to play again."
Augustus is silent for a long ti. He recalls those days after the fire, when his daughter refused to see anyone in the ward, refused to look in the mirror, refused to live. Now, she is asking to return to that pain, not for self-pity, but to save others.
"What do you need?" he finally asks.
"Your support," Carlotta says, "not money, I know the family will provide that, but your understanding. It could an that I am no longer just ’Carlotta the pianist’, but ’Carlotta the burn survivor’. It could an that certain highbrow occasions won’t invite anymore, that so noble gatherings might think I’m not ’perfect’ enough."
Augustus reaches out his hand, holding his daughter’s hand, now warm and strong, once deford and contracted.
"The history of the Balberini family can be traced back to the Middle Ages. We’ve been through wars, plagues, political upheaval, and each ti, it was not the purity of our lineage that got us through, but the perseverance we showed in the face of disaster. You going to China, doing this, is the most glorious page in our family’s history."
Three months later, winter in Nandu.
Carlotta sets foot on China’s soil for the first ti, without attendants, without dia, just a simple suitcase and a thick plan book.
She first goes to Sanbo Hospital’s plastic surgery departnt, Director Lan already knows she’s coming, Ivan had inford him earlier. But Carlotta doesn’t ask for special treatnt; she requests to start from the basics, to learn about China’s burn dical status, understand the plight of impoverished patients, know what a fund can truly help.
Director Lan presents data to her in the eting room: "The incidence rate of burns in China is about tens of millions per year, of which around 500,000 require surgical intervention for severe burns. However, plastic surgery resources are highly concentrated; top departnts like Sanbo can only handle around 3,000 cases annually. More patients, especially from rural and remote areas, don’t receive tily and effective treatnt."
"What about the treatnt costs?" Carlotta asks.
"The treatnt for severe burns, from ergency care to rehabilitation, averages between 200,000 and 500,000 RMB. For ordinary families, this is devastating. Many family mbers abandon treatnt midway not out of hopelessness but because they cannot afford it."
Carlotta writes down every number, each feeling like a needle piercing her past fears. She recalls her own fire, her father unequivocally saying, "Use the best doctors, no matter the cost." Not everyone is so fortunate.
"What can I do?" she asks.
Director Lan looks at her, this young Italian noblewoman, possessing humility and determination not befitting her status: "You can help us screen patients. About 30% of the cases Sanbo takes on each year et the ’functional reconstruction’ criteria but cannot afford the fees. We can provide the technology but need a fund to cover their material costs, hospital fees, rehabilitation fees, and necessary living expenses during treatnt."
"What are the screening criteria?"
"Priority to children, priority to those whose functional disabilities affect survival quality, priority to those with definite willingness and ability to rehabilitate," Director Lan pauses.
Carlotta nods.
The foundation’s establishnt is more complicated than expected. China’s charity regulations, foreign exchange managent, dical institution cooperation, every aspect requires patience and ticulousness. Carlotta resides long-term in a hotel, walks to Sanbo Hospital every day, and returns at night to handle emails and docunts. She learns to use China’s office software, learns to communicate with different departnts, and even masters basic daily Chinese.
"You don’t have to do this yourself," Augustus says through video, "We can hire a professional charity managent team."
"No, father," Carlotta shakes her head, "I must do it myself; for each person I help, I must know their na, their story, how their burns happened, whether they truly need help. Otherwise, it’s just the Balberini family’s PR project, not Carlotta’s commitnt."
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