Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Reality is Cruel — The Clash Between Lin Zhao and Edward; Jane…

Entering the temporary villa where the Harrisons were staying, Lin Zhao’s first impression was that the place was unnervingly quiet. The servant leading the way was respectful, walking ahead with very light footsteps. Given her special constitution, Lin Zhao made no sound at all. In the empty corridor, even the sound of breathing was clearly audible.

She was certain the servant realized there was only one person’s worth of breathing, because as they walked further, his steps began to falter.

As I thought, this state is only suited for fooling people in crowded places, she mused. She hoped Mr. Harrison wouldn’t notice anything unusual and doubt her identity.

Passing the stairs to the upper floor, Lin Zhao was briefly distracted and glanced up. She saw nothing. The weather was fine this afternoon; the children might be out playing. That would be logical. And as for Mr. Harrison, since he had invited her, he had likely ordered everyone else to remain quiet.

She adjusted her cloak and followed the servant closely.

It didn’t take long to reach the drawing room. Edward Harrison was sitting upright on a sofa. As soon as she entered his line of sight, he stood up and spoke with measured refinement: “Mr. Lint, welcome.”

Julian was not here. Had he been assigned another task?

Lin Zhao noted this strange detail but silently bowed in return. They sat down together, separated by a quite luxurious coffee table.

“My servant seems to have behaved quite impertinently. I thank you for not taking offense and for sending such an… unconventional invitation.” He reached out, palm upward, pointing to the tabletop.

Lin Zhao saw the slip of paper she had stuffed into the man’s pocket earlier lying there quietly.

“I wonder what specific cooperation you referred to in your ‘letter,’ sir.” Edward withdrew his hand, a polite smile on his face. However, his hands were clasped together with enough force that his white knuckles betrayed his guarded state.

Lin Zhao nodded, the hood of her cloak swaying noticeably. She handed over a prepared note.

“I have written to Mr. Giannette to confirm that Madeira indeed possesses investment value. Now, what I need to evaluate is who is qualified to become his agent. Mr. Giannette values ability over origin; he never hesitates to invest in a true dark horse.”

Edward’s eyes scanned the note quickly. Finally, a trace of genuine mirth appeared in his gaze, but when he spoke, the topic shifted subtly.

“Forgive my presumption, but I am quite curious. Mr. Lint writes with a fine hand; surely you are not as unskilled in speech as the rumors suggest? After all, in such a significant partnership, relying solely on pen and paper might lead to… misunderstandings. I wonder if you might show a bit more ‘sincerity’?”

Here it was—the test.

Lin Zhao handed over a second note, making sure to let her hand tremble slightly this time.

“I hope you won’t mock me. It is precisely because I am facing a man of your stature, Mr. Harrison, that I dare not hide anything. My silence is the price of my loyalty to Mr. Giannette—and it is where my value lies.”

Edward’s gaze sharpened as he read the bloody implication behind the note. “Mr. Giannette is indeed a leader who demands absolute loyalty, just as the rumors say.”

“He does not want subordinates; he wants partners. The role of an agent is merely a beginning—a test.”

Lin Zhao immediately handed over a third note, giving him no room to breathe or deviate.

“Oh?” The corner of Edward’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “And I wonder, what does a ‘partner’ who passes the test receive?”

“Mr. Giannette is a widower, Mr. Harrison.”

Lin Zhao’s next note was written nonchalantly, but it hit like a boulder dropped into water.

“He has heard that the balls in Madeira are frequented by the elite. Unfortunately, he is busy and cannot attend yet. He has asked me to observe on his behalf.”

“Oh—that is indeed news to me.” A glint of greed flashed in Edward’s eyes.

He’s hooked.

Lin Zhao stopped there and handed over the final note.

“We shall discuss further matters after the ball. Mr. Giannette never works with those who lack courage or who hesitate. That is all for today; I have other engagements.”

She didn’t stay a moment longer and stood up. Edward, sensing the mood, called a servant to see her out without trying to keep her for pleasantries.

Passing the stairs again, she practically strained her ears, but she still couldn’t hear a single familiar voice. She had to suppress the urge to go upstairs and complied with leaving the building…

Psych.

As soon as Lin Zhao left the villa, she found a corner, threw off her cloak, and walked back in quite openly. Even if the children were out, she had to leave a message for Jane. The poor girl must have been worried sick these past few days.

She stepped lightly up the stairs. The upper floor remained silent; she saw neither Mrs. Harrison nor Miss Constance. Just as she was about to identify the rooms one by one, the door at the end of the hallway opened, and a familiar figure stepped out.

Julian.

So he was here. He wasn’t working, and he wasn’t out with the others?

Noting the room he had just left, Lin Zhao changed her mind and followed him. Julian headed straight for the drawing room. Edward was still there; hearing the sound, he looked up and asked sternly: “Well?”

“Lina and the others are chatting in Mother’s room. I checked their rooms; I found nothing.” Julian reported to his father like a subordinate, stiff and formal.

It was a scene so bizarre it was almost funny, but Lin Zhao couldn’t laugh. She suddenly realized that when Julian said “their rooms,” he meant Jane and the others.

Edward had arranged for Julian to sneak into their rooms and go through their things? Why?

She waited patiently for them to continue. Edward was cautious; he didn’t reply immediately but waved Julian over to check the surroundings. Only after confirming no one was there did he let him sit.

No person was there, but a ghost was. The ghost herself sat down too, unceremoniously joining the secret talk.

“The intelligence broker we sent has confirmed it: that Jane Eyre is indeed the niece that the famous Madeira wine merchant, John Eyre, is looking for. You must watch her closely. Do not let anyone else speak to her. This is a golden opportunity for us to earn a massive favor.”

Edward’s words hit Lin Zhao like a thunderclap.

Edward Harrison knows who Jane is?

Lin Zhao felt her heart racing as if it would explode. She clutched her chest, staring at the two men in shock.

“Yes. She stays with Lina most of the time; she is very cautious. I also found no evidence that she has already contacted that gentleman.”

Julian had gone through Jane’s things?

These people were far more dangerous than she had imagined. On the ship, she had never heard them discuss anything related to this. It seemed they were exceptionally discreet. She felt a wave of regret; she should have thought more broadly when she realized she was being followed.

Then again, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. No matter how wealthy, a man wouldn’t necessarily be so kind as to take a stranger on a holiday like this. She had been blinded by the idea of “heavenly favor” and hadn’t looked closer at the circumstances.

She felt a desperate urge to take Jane to meet John Eyre immediately.

“I am still not at ease regarding that mysterious intelligence broker’s background. There are still a few days before the ball; I’ll have someone see if they can dig up more info.” Edward continued, bringing up the earlier meeting. “He even took the initiative to mention the betrothal. I don’t believe in such coincidences. If we find even a hint of a connection to the Mason family, deal with him immediately.”

The Mason family. The power brokers behind the large Madeira trading firms, representing a branch of the local forces. It seemed Edward wanted far more than just a piece of the pie—he wanted to snatch the spoon itself.

A merchant will do anything for profit. Lin Zhao understood this clearly now. Julian didn’t say much; he seemed only capable of following orders. After he respectfully agreed, Edward waved him away.

Lin Zhao followed Julian out of the drawing room, wanting only to find Jane. She couldn’t tell the girl everything, but she had to warn her to be careful.

The impulse to take Jane away was impractical. Even if they met John Eyre, the news of an extra person wouldn’t stay hidden, and since Jane was brought here by Edward, he could easily prove his “claim” to collect the favor.

A man who would sell his own daughter for profit was not to be underestimated.

Thinking of a million things didn’t stop her from moving swiftly, finding the room Julian had just left. Upon entering, Lin Zhao saw “Jane Eyre” sitting on the table. This was indeed Jane’s room.

Fortunately, before she left, she had explained the existence of this book on that note. No one but her could see it; she had told Jane to hide her personal records inside this “invisible book.”

By a stroke of luck, Jane had avoided Julian’s search.

Jane wasn’t in the room. Based on the conversation earlier, they were elsewhere. Being with Eleanor and the others made it difficult to talk, and Julian was watching them closely. Lin Zhao forced herself to calm her anxiety, temporarily abandoning any move that might alert the enemy.

She walked to the desk and opened the book. New content had been added—several notes Jane had written over these past few days. She skimmed the first few pages, her movements slowing at the last one.

…Jane actually went to probe Julian about Eleanor’s matter alone?

The instructions hadn’t been followed, which should have worried her, but looking at Jane’s bold, sweeping handwriting, Lin Zhao couldn’t help but smile. That was Jane for you—fearless. From the conversation between Julian and Edward, it seemed her actions hadn’t been detected.

She didn’t know what Jane had discovered, but if she had found out about Eleanor’s betrothal, she must be quite anxious. Lin Zhao thought for a moment, wrote down what she had been doing and some of her thoughts, and tucked the paper into the book.

Speaking of which, besides her external gains, she had made a new discovery about her current state. The mental burden of dealing with others only required a short nap to maintain. But if she talked to Jane, her endurance was much lower—her schedule basically had to sync with Jane’s, and she needed a full night’s rest. It felt more like being a normal human.

But for doing business, a ghost-like stamina was much more convenient.

There wasn’t much time left before the ball. Eleanor’s situation needed a bit more “heat,” and she had to establish contact with John Eyre while she wasn’t too busy. Most importantly, now that she knew Edward was watching her, she had to be even more careful.

She had to give up the idea of finding Jane right now.

“It will be fine once the ball comes, Jane.”

Lin Zhao closed the book, scanned the room, and hurriedly left the villa. As she turned into the alley where her cloak was hidden, she passed a carriage heading toward the villa.

It was the carriage of Mrs. Harrison and Miss Constance returning.

Eleanor hadn’t lied; when Jane and the others entered the room, Mrs. Harrison had indeed gone to get a book. The next volume of the series was temporarily with Miss Constance.

At the time, Miss Constance had just come out of the drawing room. She had argued with Edward again over Eleanor’s matter, and hearing the title of the book Mrs. Harrison wanted only fueled her anger.

Mrs. Harrison had just finished reading The Daughters of England to Eleanor and had come to get The Wives of England, which she’d left with her sister-in-law. [1]

Miss Constance’s eyes flickered. She didn’t mention the book, only saying she heard there was a famous restaurant in a distant town and she wanted to bring back dinner for the children. Seeing her expression, Mrs. Harrison knew she was still upset over the argument with Edward. Though she didn’t know the cause, she always acted as the mediator between her husband and sister-in-law, so she complied and agreed to the sudden outing.

The shop was quite far; they left the villa without the children.

Now, having returned with dinner, Mrs. Harrison arranged for the servants to clear the table, and Miss Constance went upstairs to call the young ladies down. Pushing the door open and seeing the various expressions on the girls’ faces by the bed, she immediately sensed that a significant verbal clash had just occurred.

“My little seagull, why are your eyes so swollen?” Miss Constance was startled and stepped forward quickly to touch Eleanor’s eyes.

Jane watched her, the confusion in her own eyes suddenly clearing. Yes, perhaps I can talk to Miss Constance about my feelings…

“I just read a book with Mama, and it was a bit moving,” Eleanor said, seeing her aunt. Her mood improved, and she waved her hand. “Where is Mama? Why hasn’t she come back yet?”

“A book…?” Thinking of that title, Miss Constance’s expression momentarily darkened, but she quickly masked it and stroked Eleanor’s face. “I dragged your mother away halfway; we went to buy dinner. I came up to call you all to eat. Shall we?”

The girls answered in unison and left the room. Constance followed intentionally, watching as Jane walked slower and slower until she was side-by-side with her. She didn’t call the child out, walking with her until they were nearly at the dining room. Only then did Jane lightly tug her sleeve.

“Miss Constance, may I speak with you after dinner?”

Something definitely happened in that room, Constance concluded, though she showed nothing. “Of course, Jane,” she said with a gentle smile.

The dinner Mrs. Harrison brought back was lavish and unique, but the atmosphere at the table was somewhat heavy. Eleanor tried to keep her spirits up, and the girls tacitly avoided any unpleasant topics. After dinner, Jane stayed behind as agreed and walked onto the balcony with Miss Constance. The night breeze was light, carrying the fragrance of roses from the garden.

“Miss Constance,” Jane spoke softly, looking into the night, “If someone said… that not every woman can be like you, that the path you walk isn’t one everyone can take… what would you think?”

Miss Constance looked surprised, raising an eyebrow before letting out a soft sigh. “Oh? Did someone say that?” She leaned against the railing, looking at Jane. “That statement itself carries a prejudice, doesn’t it? No one ever says to a man, ‘This path is too hard, you can’t walk it,’ or ‘Not every man can become himself.’ If that’s the case, why do so many insurmountable obstacles appear out of thin air when it comes to women?”

Jane had been worried her words might be dismissed as overthinking, but as she expected, Miss Constance understood. “I think so too,” she agreed immediately, finding the courage to add: “I’ve always believed that if given the same opportunities, women could achieve no less than men.”

Miss Constance watched Jane tenderly, a spark of admiration in her eyes. She smiled warmly. “I’m glad you think so, Jane. You must have felt how heavy the pressure of social norms can be. Because such prejudices truly exist, our choices become very limited—speaking of which, have you thought about what you want to do in the future?”

The shift in topic was sudden, but Jane thought seriously before answering. “A short while ago, I began to wonder what it would be like to be a merchant.”

“Is that so? If I told you this path would be much harder than the one most choose, would you still want to try?”

Jane was silent for a moment. She looked back at Miss Constance and then replied with absolute certainty: “As long as the end of the road is freedom.”

Hearing such firm words, Miss Constance couldn’t help but be moved. She reached out to stroke Jane’s hair and asked softly: “…Jane, do you know about Eleanor’s betrothal?”

Jane nodded instinctively. She saw Miss Constance’s expression turn complex. The pride she’d felt earlier was replaced by worry. “She is still too young; she shouldn’t lose her choice so early, should she? Having no choice means losing freedom.”

The words fell on Jane’s ears, creating a storm in her heart. Ah… so that’s why I felt so sad earlier. Would Eleanor really feel nothing, as she claimed? She pursed her lips, unable to say anything. Perhaps her dejection was too obvious; Miss Constance shook her head and said apologetically: “These words are too early for you; we shouldn’t be talking about this. Do you have anything else to ask, Jane?”

Jane was indeed feeling a bit dazed. She looked up and remembered another related confusion. “Miss Constance, is that why you don’t want to marry? But you said before it was because of your age…”

Miss Constance shook her head again and confessed: “Yes and no. For now, it is indeed early. But in a few years, no one knows what will happen. To be honest, I don’t have absolute confidence that I can avoid marriage my whole life. The pressure of public opinion is immense. The more it is like that, the more I hope to persist—because this pressure weighs so truly and heavily on the shoulders of every woman. For every year I delay marriage, there is one more woman in the world who can live for herself for one more year—one more companion who can breathe a little and encourage others.”

Her voice was clear and steady in the night.

“When the socially accepted age for marriage moves from the teens to the twenties, women can study for a few more years. When it moves from twenty to thirty, women can earn money for a few more years and gain financial independence. When it moves from thirty to forty, women can see more of the world’s scenery and enter the middle of their lives with more composure. In this time we’ve fought for, what we must do is be responsible for ourselves; we don’t have to wait for someone else to save us.”

She paused and added: “Of course, if one truly encounters love, one can enter marriage at any time. The prerequisite is that you are ready, and that love does not make you lose yourself.”

Jane was enthralled. “Then… Miss Constance, have you really never met someone who moved your heart?”

Miss Constance turned her head, the moonlight outlining her confident and beautiful profile. She gave a mysterious smile. “No one can love me more than I love myself, Jane. If there is someone,” she said, looking into Jane’s eyes, “then I will naturally love him as he loves me.”

It was a profoundly beneficial conversation. Jane seemed to have realized something and nodded solemnly. Time slipped away as they spoke; Miss Constance looked at the moon and remarked that it was time to stop. “Walk toward that difficult and free path, Jane. I look forward to your future.” She shared a warm embrace with Jane.

By the time Jane returned to her room, her mind was still replaying her conversation with Miss Constance. Future—the word always sounded so distant. Yet, where she was now was once something she hadn’t dared to imagine. Leaving Gateshead was once her greatest wish, and now she was even waiting to be reunited with her uncle.

The ghost who promised to bring me happiness—where is she now?

Her thoughts drifting, Jane pushed open the door. Eleanor looked up. “You’re back, Jane?” Beatrice wasn’t in the room, seemingly gone to wash up.

“Lina…” Seeing her, the concern from her talk with Miss Constance resurfaced. But Eleanor was lying on the bed reading a book with a quite relaxed expression, which made Jane pull back the words on the tip of her tongue.

“What is it?”

“…Nothing. Go back to your book.”

Jane forced a smile and sat at the desk. After confirming Eleanor had looked back down, she pulled the “invisible book” from the corner. As she opened it, she froze, her eyes widening.

The “security note” she had placed during the day had been moved. And on top of it, there was a new piece of paper.

Lin Zhao had been back?!