Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Old Grudges Reunited—The Attention-Seeker Reed

Six months flew by, and in a flash, the week of the inter-school competition arrived.

On the opening day, the entirety of Whirlwood was saturated with an atmosphere of both excitement and nervous tension. On the plaza before the main building, students stood in formation wearing brand-new uniforms, their hair meticulously braided. Even the air seemed to shimmer, polished by expectation and unease.

“Jane, I love this version of the school uniform. What do you think?” Eleanor whispered to Jane, her tone lively. Her chestnut curls were braided to the side today, resting softly against her chest.

Jane’s hair had been styled exactly like Eleanor’s. Her cheeks were flushed pink; she wasn’t quite used to such finery. “It makes you look even more beautiful,” she replied softly. “But won’t it look strange on me?”

“How could it! My dear, you really ought to see how perfectly it suits you!” Eleanor countered with genuine surprise.

“Stop chatting, the carriages are here,” Beatrice interrupted from the side, unable to listen any longer.

Following her words, the crisp sound of hooves and wheels grinding over gravel grew clearer. Several carriages painted with deep blue insignias rolled slowly through the school gates.

Every eye was drawn to them.

The footmen respectfully opened the doors. First down were several stern-faced teachers, followed by a stream of students wearing uniforms of a unified style, though the fabric and tailoring were notably exquisite.

“I still prefer the color of our uniforms…” Eleanor leaned in closer to Jane, adding in a whisper, “Even if they look formidable, I know we’ll do better.”

“I hope so too,” Jane said, her eyes already scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

The three Reed siblings were among the group. Compared to his sisters, John Reed was far more conspicuous—primarily because he was the most bloated figure among the boys.

He wore that familiar arrogant sneer, surveying the Whirlwood students with smug condescension. Soon, prompted by someone nearby, he noticed the gaze fixed upon him—a gaze belonging to the cousin he had seen every day until half a year ago.

The impatience on his face instantly curdled into naked loathing and shock, as if he had seen something that had no right to exist in such a place.

“You?” he barked crudely, pointing a finger at Jane. “What are you doing here?”

John Reed’s voice was harsh and loud, instantly shattering the polite tranquility of the plaza. This ill-mannered interrogation stunned everyone; countless eyes swiveled to focus on Jane, filled with scrutiny and curiosity.

“He’s still as stupid as ever.” Standing silently behind Jane, Lin Zhao shook her head. she reached out to pat Jane’s shoulder. “Want me to do something?”

Jane shook her head with a nearly imperceptible motion. She stood in the ranks, neither flinching nor retreating, simply watching him in silence—her eyebrows didn’t even twitch. The shadow of Gateshead had finally caught up to her, but she was no longer the little girl who could only endure in passivity or lash out in hysteria.

Confronted with Jane’s reaction, John Reed hesitated. She looked at him as if he were something utterly inconsequential—the Jane Eyre he knew could never look at him like that.

Did I mistake her for someone else?

His doubt was quickly answered. In that moment of hesitation, the teachers intervened. Mrs. Miller spoke with an authority that brooked no argument: “Young man, mind your language. Miss Eyre is a formal student of this school.”

Ha! It is her!

John Reed’s brows shot up again, ignoring the warning entirely. He tried to target Jane once more, but this time he only saw her back as she turned to walk away. In the next second, he was jostled by the crowd being guided into the main building, stumbling and nearly landing flat on his back.

“He is as loathsome as ever,” Eleanor grumbled on the way to the assembly hall.

Rarely, even Beatrice voiced her agreement: “It is a misfortune for a kind soul like Mrs. Reed to have a son like that.”

Jane and Lin Zhao exchanged a glance.

Who? Mrs. Reed? A kind soul?

“You don’t think a boy like John Reed could appear out of thin air if the entire Reed household were ‘kind souls,’ do you?” Jane rarely felt the urge to use physical force against Beatrice, but she briefly wanted to knock on her head to hear the echo.

“Hmph, well, doesn’t that prove my point? There’s you, too,” Beatrice added coldly.

“I am not a Reed,” Jane retorted instantly, considering her ties to that place severed the day she left Gateshead.

“There you have it. Ill-hearted Jane Eyre,” Beatrice finished, ignoring her from then on.

Eleanor cast Jane a helpless look and patted her hand comfortingly. Their conversation ended there as they entered the hall, where the headmistresses of both schools began their welcoming remarks.

Afterward, Miss Victor officially announced the competition details. For this visiting week, all events would be team-based, covering academic quizzes, artistic displays, and social etiquette evaluations. Individual competitions would take place after the guest school departed.

By the time the speeches concluded, the sky was darkening. The welcome banquet was held in Whirlwood’s grandest dining hall. Crystal chandeliers glowed brilliantly, white linens covered the long tables, and silver cutlery sparkled.

The older boys and girls from both schools were seated at long tables, conversing politely. Students under twelve, like Jane, sat with their own genders and peers.

“The beef stew and cream soup look wonderful today.” While Eleanor and Beatrice were busy chatting with others, Jane used the cover of eating to speak with Lin Zhao. “I’ve always been curious, Lin—you need sleep, so why don’t you need food?”

Sitting in the empty chair next to Jane meant for Eleanor, Lin Zhao blinked, feeling a bit guilty.

Yes, she had previously concluded that her body was normal except for being invisible. But over the past six months, she had sensed slight differences. Her body felt temperature and occasionally “fatigue,” but she had no normal metabolic reactions like sweating. It was as if her growth had been paused, retaining only certain sensory feedbacks. Sleep was for mental restoration, not physical.

As for eating, since her body didn’t metabolize normally, she didn’t feel hunger. Food didn’t feel like it was “digesting.” She could eat, but she generally didn’t—mostly because she couldn’t stand the food of this era in England.

“Well… the school has set rations. You’re growing, and I don’t get hungry, so it’s better if I don’t take a portion.” Lin Zhao smiled, hiding the primary reason.

“I see,” Jane nodded, smiling. “But today’s food isn’t rationed. Do you want to try something?” She was genuinely curious to see Lin Zhao’s expression while eating.

Lin Zhao blinked, her forehead tingling with a phantom sweat. Just as she was thinking of an answer, a lifesaver appeared.

“Jane, I’m back.” As the formal meal time approached, Eleanor returned to the table. In the space where Eleanor couldn’t see, Lin Zhao breathed a sigh of relief and stood up nimbly.

“…Cough, welcome back.” Jane used her hand to hide a smirk she couldn’t suppress. “Didn’t Beatrice come back with you?”

Eleanor’s expression stiffened for a second. She touched her cheek and explained softly, “Betty… she said she wanted to sit with old friends.”

Old friends? There were few people who could make Eleanor react like that. Jane looked over Eleanor’s shoulder and, sure enough, saw Beatrice sitting at a nearby table, talking with Georgiana and the others.

They had known each other for six months, and Jane had already shared the injustices she suffered at Gateshead. Eleanor, who already disliked John Reed, believed her implicitly. Beatrice, however, felt Jane’s account was “exaggerated, overly emotional, and lacked credibility.”

Eleanor placed a hand on Jane’s shoulder, forcing her gaze back to the table. “Don’t look. Let’s eat. After all that talking, I feel like I could eat for three people.”

Jane knew Eleanor wanted her to be happy, so she cooperated.

“Why is Beatrice so fond of Georgiana anyway? Should I go listen?” Lin Zhao looked toward that table, checking with Jane.

Jane didn’t look up, using her spoon to draw a circle in her cream soup.

Around them, students were engaged in polite conversation. After Lin Zhao left, Jane was about to join the talk with Eleanor, but a highly irritating commotion erupted nearby.

Because it was a joint-school banquet, most students were behaving with decorum to protect their school’s reputation. John Reed, however, whose appearance already failed to reflect any sense of school spirit, was clearly the exception. He sat with several boys from his school, his voice loud enough for several surrounding tables to hear clearly.

“…You have no idea. That Jane Eyre is just a beggar. She’s been wicked to the core since she was small! My mother was kind enough to take her in, but she repaid us with ingratitude. She even brought ‘unclean things’ into the house with her chanting. Pure bad luck, she is!”

The table where Eleanor and Jane sat wasn’t far away. They only just noticed him.

Hearing the grating voice, Jane raised an eyebrow, realizing that the head she had seen buried in a plate earlier belonged to John. She was so struck by that mental image that she didn’t really process his words—nor did she notice that Eleanor’s face was turning increasingly grim, her fingers clutching her cutlery so hard they were turning white.

“…People like her are lowly by nature. Even if you put her in the finest clothes, she’ll never be a lady—”

Good idea. Maybe I should ask Lin Zhao to make his clothes look more ‘fitting’ for his personality. Rags, perhaps?

Jane indifferentally stabbed a piece of beef with her fork, looking for where Lin Zhao had gone.

“Enough!”

A sharp, clear rebuke cut through John Reed’s filth.

Realizing who had spoken, most Whirlwood students—including Jane—were stunned.

“Eleanor…?”