Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: So It Really Is a Transmigration? I Am Your Fairy Godmother…

“Hmph, she certainly fainted at a convenient time. Take her back to the nursery.”

Mrs. Reed let out a cold snort and changed her orders. Lin Zhao turned around, watching the maids scramble to lift the limp Jane from the floor.

Something wasn’t right.

Behind her, the crowd was dismissed by Mrs. Reed. The Reed children followed their mother, noisily heading toward the drawing room. This picture of nonchalance gave Lin Zhao’s strong sense of dissonance a clear source.

Even for a dream, this is far too logical.

Lin Zhao frowned.

The book didn’t describe the scenes after Jane left the room, yet everything before her was terrifyingly real. John Reed stubbornly pinned the “haunting” on Jane; Mrs. Reed reverted to being the respectable mistress the moment Jane disappeared. Everything felt like it was following a script that had been haphazardly edited.

But wasn’t this her dream? Why weren’t things going according to her will?

The more Lin Zhao thought about it, the more uneasy she became. The suspicion that had sprouted when she first saw Gateshead Hall resurfaced. She stopped her attempt to follow the maids and changed her plan.

Like a true ghost, she began to wander aimlessly through Gateshead Hall.

The decor here was far more detailed than the few strokes of description in the book. Dark wallpaper, heavy red velvet curtains, and a thin layer of dust covering the brass candlesticks.

A dream cannot construct things beyond a person’s cognition. Lin Zhao was certain her imagination could never invent these era-specific details from thin air. They didn’t even match any film or TV adaptation she had ever seen.

She studied the decorations as she walked. Stepping onto the stairs to the second floor, she finally couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the banister.

A cold, solid sensation met her skin. She could even feel the subtle grain of the wood and the scratches left by years of use. This was entirely different from the void-like feeling of the glass shards passing through her earlier.

Her certainty that this was a dream—based on not being hurt by the glass—shook. It seemed she could actively touch this world and receive real feedback.

Lin Zhao looked down at the copy of Jane Eyre she was still clutching. The gold-leaf lettering on the cover felt utterly absurd in this moment. She looked back up at the solid, musty, cold mansion and had to face her daring hypothesis:

She couldn’t have actually… probably… maybe… possibly… transmigrated into her favorite book after being struck by lightning, right?

In the 21st century, could such a thing really happen?

This realization made the world spin. She had to grip the banister to stay upright. The fearlessness she had felt earlier vanished, replaced by the same directionless terror she’d felt when she first woke up in the forest.

If this was true, the eerie nature of everything made sense. Reality and her assumption were opposites: she wasn’t dreaming; she was physically inside the book. That was why the characters and events were “too” logical—it was the sensation of the plot “forcibly correcting” itself.

Does fantasizing about transmigration actually make it happen? Can I go back? Is there no justice in the world? My driving test fees were for nothing!

Her mind was a tangled mess of screaming voices. Lin Zhao took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. Finally, one thought rose above the chaos:

She had to see Jane. Now. Immediately.

She had no clues, but the only certainty was that only Jane could see her. If there was a turning point, it had to be related to that child.

She dashed into rooms like a headless fly, brushing past servants who remained oblivious to her. Panicked, she searched almost every corner of Gateshead before finally finding the nursery.

The little girl was awake. She was staring blankly at the ceiling, her pale face devoid of color. Hearing the door open, she glanced over. Seeing it was Lin Zhao, she flinched in fright but didn’t scream.

Taking in Jane’s reaction, Lin Zhao fully understood the absurdity her presence brought to the girl’s life. She stood in silence for a moment before slowly walking toward her.

“…I’m sorry for scaring you so much.”

Lin Zhao sat by the bed and apologized from the bottom of her heart.

Jane was still afraid, trying to hide under the covers, but the apology made her pause. Her eyes peeked over the blanket, her gaze hesitantly landing on Lin Zhao’s dejected expression. This ghost’s appearance, accent, and behavior were different from any human she knew, making her think of the non-human demons mentioned in storybooks.

But at this moment, she captured a familiar emotion in the stranger. This familiarity slightly offset her fear, leading her to hesitantly voice a question.

“You look… very afraid?”

Lin Zhao didn’t expect Jane to say that. She didn’t know what her face looked like, but as she opened her mouth, the denial got stuck in her throat. The child’s eyes were brighter than anything, staring through her facade.

Yes, she was scared to death by her current situation. Especially on the way to the nursery, facing the fact that no one else could see her again had nearly crushed her.

Unlike a dream, she couldn’t tell herself she would eventually wake up. Unlike the transmigration novels she had read, she wasn’t even an “interloper” who could interact with the world. If no one but Jane could see her, she couldn’t even restart a new life. In a cycle of days with no end in sight, how could she be sure she even existed?

She had to stay by Jane’s side—both for Jane’s sake and to keep from losing herself. She had to make Jane stop being so afraid of her.

Lin Zhao exhaled, dropping all pretenses. She gave Jane a slight, bitter smile. “Just like you, I’m quite afraid of ghosts.”

“…” Jane blinked, pulling her face fully out of the covers, looking confused. “But aren’t you a ghost?”

Lin Zhao instinctively wanted to deny it, but her situation wasn’t much different from being one. The more she thought about it, the more miserable she felt, so she admitted it weakly.

“Well… even ghosts have things they’re afraid of.”

This was a bit too deep for a ten-year-old, so Jane just took it as “She really is a ghost.”

After a long silence, curiosity overcame fear. Jane asked in a voice as quiet as a mosquito, “You sound very strange. Are you a ghost from another country?”

“Another country?” More like a different world… Lin Zhao sank deeper into sorrow. Before the lightning strike, she had been happy about finishing her driving practice. Who knew she’d stumble into a book? Her precious summer vacation…

And how could Jane dislike her accent! If she hadn’t majored in English in college, they’d be using sign language right now.

In her indignation, the focus of her grief shifted slightly. Lin Zhao patted Jane’s blanket and said earnestly:

“This isn’t my native language; it’s already good that I can speak like this! You should know I came from a very, very far away place.”

“As far as the North Pole?” Jane thought of the sea birds and distant habitats in her book.

“Farther than the North Pole.”

“Ah…” Jane tried to comprehend such a distance, but it was beyond her knowledge. After a pause, she tried a different direction. “Then what are you here for?”

To scare John Reed? To act as an agent of divine justice at Gateshead? A few random thoughts flashed through Lin Zhao’s mind, but she realized she had no real answer. What could she do? Where could she go? In a fit of desperation, she thought: Since this is already so magical, let’s just go all the way.

She took a deep breath, trying to look mysterious and reliable, and said to Jane word by word:

“I am your fairy godmother.”

Jane blinked. Jane thought. Jane was puzzled. “What does that mean…?”

“It’s like… a being specifically here to help you solve your problems and make you happy,” Lin Zhao explained, biting the bullet.

“Happy?” Jane repeated the word calmly, as if listening to a distant fairy tale. She shrank back into her blanket, her voice carrying a sharp edge beyond her years. “Then you’ve come much too late.”

This unhesitating accusation sent a pang through Lin Zhao’s heart. Yes, to a child raised in indifference and bullying, a late act of kindness was as suspicious as a hollow promise of “happiness.”

“Perhaps not early, but definitely not too late.” Lin Zhao remembered Jane’s future path and steadied herself. “Your future still has a long way to go.”

Jane fell silent, her precocious eyes staring intently at Lin Zhao, evaluating the truth in the “fairy godmother” ghost’s words. After a while, she asked the most practical and urgent question:

“Then… can you take me away from Gateshead?”

Lin Zhao was stunned. Of course she wanted to. In her earlier fantasies, after stopping John Reed and causing a scene, she would have sent Jane to a school much better than Lowood. But back in reality, how could an invisible “ghost” take a living person away?

“Leaving… is a big project,” Lin Zhao stammered, trying to stall. “We need a thorough plan.”

“You can’t do it, can you?”

Jane immediately caught her hesitation. A flicker of knowing disappointment crossed her eyes, but she didn’t stop there. She pressed harder. “Since you’ve been watching me, you should know that nothing would make me happier than leaving this place. If you can’t even do that, how can you call yourself someone who is here to help me?”

This logical, childishly stubborn argument pushed Lin Zhao into a corner. Seeing Jane’s eyes, which practically said, “You really are lying to me too,” Lin Zhao panicked and blurted out:

“I can! I will do it! It just needs some time. Not too long… it’s… it’s my ‘mission’!”

“Mission?” Jane repeated the word, her curiosity finally piqued.

“Yes!” Lin Zhao grabbed onto this makeshift lifeline, her thoughts becoming clearer than ever. “I must fulfill the mission of ‘making you happy.’ That is why I am here.”

Why she was here? Jane’s eyes lit up. In that case, wouldn’t she be able to end this dangerous and eerie situation once the ghost finished its mission?

“When you finish your mission, can you go back? Back to your place… farther than the North Pole?”

“Yes.” Lin Zhao confirmed instinctively. The next second, she froze, realizing Jane’s words were the most likely way out.

That’s it! Why didn’t I think of that! Isn’t this the typical “Transmigration Rule”? Her arrival was bound to Jane; her departure must be tied to Jane’s fate. Changing Jane’s destiny and leading her to happiness must be her “Main Quest.” Once it’s over, she might return to that car.

Looking at the ghost’s shifting expressions, Jane began to do her own calculations. In the stories she read, trading with spirits always came with a price. She tilted her head and asked innocently:

“Then… as a reward for letting you go home, what price do I need to pay?”

This question brought Lin Zhao back from her euphoria. Looking at the thin, clever child, she felt a wave of mixed emotions. Price? She was the one who needed Jane to “save” her.

The light returned to Lin Zhao’s eyes. She pulled herself together, touched the cover of Jane Eyre, and gave Jane a sincere, almost sacred smile.

“I don’t need you to pay any price, Jane.”

“Your happiness is my road home.”

Jane was noncommittal; she still had many doubts about this “spirit.” But the information she just learned relaxed her tense nerves, and her eyelids grew heavy. Before sleep swept her away, she expressed her strongest wish once more:

“Then make me leave this place quickly…”

As the words fell, Jane lost consciousness again.

Lin Zhao looked at the pale little face on the bed, then prepared to go and give the culprit a taste of his own medicine.

For example… a “Visit from a Late Husband.”