Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 42

Chapter 42: The Little Merchant and the Mysterious Ghost — You Begin to Wonder If She Would…

The merchant across from them gave a sheepish smile and withdrew his hand.

A few years ago, when the news broke that a new little mistress had arrived at the Vine Manor, it drew many prying eyes. Spies extended their reach toward Funchal, yet no one could truly uncover the identity of that young heir. Even the child’s gender was a mess of conflicting rumors—boy or girl, no one could say for sure.

Today was the first day Mr. Eyre had brought the child into the business arena. The merchant had hoped to seize the initiative and build some rapport. He hadn’t expected that the Eyre child, following closely behind the seasoned businessman, would be completely shrouded in a cloak.

Let alone the appearance of the future successor to the Madeira wine industry; he remained ignorant of the most fundamental factor for social interaction—gender.

Fortunately, it seemed no one noticed his designs. Seeing Mr. Eyre sit down with his usual composure, the merchant breathed a sigh of relief in his heart—unaware that another pair of eyes was fixed on him.

“Just as Lin said, everyone tries to dig up information about me.”

Jane sat down next to her adoptive father. Her hand, hidden beneath the cloak, tugged slightly at the fabric, allowing a small sliver of vision to peek out from the hood. While she didn’t follow Lin Zhao’s mummy-style wrapping exactly, she hadn’t forgotten to wear a mask. She sized up the merchant, continuing her thoughts.

“But I didn’t come here to be peered at.”

During this trip, she wouldn’t participate in business matters; she was here with a different mission. The style of the man’s clothes, the grooming of his beard, the range of his facial expressions—everything visible could be summarized as usable information. She also had to try and guess the content of the transaction from the conversation between her father and the merchant, which was peppered with jargon and cant.

This was the “homework” assigned to her after Lin Zhao and her father had discussed it. Following the instructions of her “mummy teacher,” Jane held her breath and began to observe.

The merchant appeared comfortable for most of the dialogue, discussing market trends and profit margins. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as if everything were under his control.

But when her father casually mentioned the risks of the “Lisbon route,” Jane keenly captured a moment: the merchant’s tapping stopped. He picked up his teacup for a sip, but the knuckles of the hand holding the cup turned slightly white from the force. His smile remained, but the fleeting tension in his eyes did not escape Jane’s notice.

She noted this down.

Back in the carriage, the tense atmosphere of the drawing room was shut away. John Eyre leaned against the cushions, closing his eyes for a moment before asking, “Well, my little observer, how was today’s homework? Tell me your thoughts.”

“That gentleman,” Jane said, choosing her words carefully, “he desperately needs the cargo rights for the route we hold. And… he seems to have suffered losses in Lisbon before. That’s why he became so tense when you mentioned the risks.”

John Eyre snapped his eyes open, his grey-blue gaze full of surprise and admiration. “Oh? How did you see that?”

“The way he held his teacup,” Jane explained. “Before you mentioned ‘Lisbon,’ his hand was relaxed. But afterward, his knuckles never loosened. Just as… as Teacher Lintner said: when a person’s words lie, their body leaks the truth.”

John Eyre was silent at first, then let out a low, pleasant laugh that vibrated in his chest.

“Spot on! His last shipment of spices to Lisbon met with an accident at the port—a total loss. He’s counting on our ships to claw back his capital. Ha! It seems hiring an ‘information broker’ to sharpen your eyes was indeed an excellent investment.”

The praise made Jane a bit shy, but it brought a greater sense of satisfaction. She couldn’t help but think of Lin Zhao’s unique teachings.

“Jane, at the trade table, everything can be your bargaining chip. Learning to read the micro-expressions the other party doesn’t state is your first step onto the board.”

“Sometimes, your disadvantage can become an advantage. You just need to seize the moment—capture that single second when someone moves their predatory gaze away from you to laugh, thinking they’ve finally got the better of you.”

When it came to business guidance, Lin Zhao rarely wrote things down. She would often return from an outing and suddenly offer a few inspired sentences. Some were specific, some abstract, and sometimes her words seemed contradictory, but Jane thought she would soon understand why.

These teachings were entirely different from anything she had learned at Welwood or from books. They held no moral judgment, only pure analysis of profit and loss, yet they strangely gave her a sense of unprecedented security.

Yes, security—the feeling of feet planted on solid, even if cold, ground. Through these experiences, she would seize the chance to master her own destiny and defeat those who sought to control her.

In a good mood, Jane looked out the window. The midday streets were more crowded than usual. She soon looked past the pedestrians and caught a familiar splash of color.

Lin Zhao was walking back toward the dressmaker’s shop with Miss Constance.

Why aren’t they taking a carriage?

Jane felt curious. She watched as they turned into a narrow alleyway that led away from the shop—a path too small for a carriage.

Jane remembered that yesterday Lin Zhao said she was going to find her father but didn’t return until dinner. When Jane had casually asked at the table, her father had brushed it off, saying “he” might have gone to see Miss Constance.

“Though he keeps himself hidden, his conduct is that of a young man. Miss Harrison is a business prodigy from a respectable family and remains unmarried. It is not impossible for our Mr. Lintner to be smitten with her.”

Jane knew the truth her father didn’t—that “Mr. Lintner” was a “Miss”—so she simply lowered her eyes and said nothing.

But at this moment, she remembered those words for some reason. Perhaps because she was in high spirits, or perhaps the carriage ride was too boring, she actually followed this line of thought and began to deduce seriously.

Premise: Lin Zhao is smitten with Miss Constance.

Problem 1: Gender. Problem 2: Species.

“I mean, Lin is a ghost,” Jane couldn’t help but say to herself. “Even if she isn’t a ghost in the conventional sense, she can still pass through walls and… do things only ghosts do.”

Midway through, her thoughts were sharply cut off by another memory.

“I would do anything for you, Jane. I am your Fairy Godmother, come for your happiness.”

Lin Zhao’s years of constant promises surfaced clearly in her mind. Jane had to admit that Lin was a woman of her word; she had brought earth-shattering changes to Jane’s life. Jane could no longer view Lin’s “ghostly” traits as a flaw or obstacle, as she might with the conventional ghosts in books.

In her heart, Lin Zhao’s role was simply “Lin Zhao.” The woman who had taken her from Gateshead and promised her long-term companionship had already earned her total trust. This trust had nothing to do with gender or identity.

“Jane, you can take off the cloak now. Look, your face is flushed from the heat,” her father’s concerned voice interrupted her.

Jane snapped back to reality, realizing her cheeks were burning from her runaway thoughts. She shook her head, mumbled that she wanted to sleep for a bit, and leaned against the carriage wall, lightly patting her face under the cover of the cloak.

…I thought too far ahead just now. That wasn’t what I was supposed to be thinking about.

Back to the “spark” between “Mr. Lintner” and Miss Constance—can a ghost fall in love with a human? Interspecies romance was certainly debatable, but ghosts were once human. If so, was the gender issue truly insurmountable for a being who had transcended the mortal coil?

Jane thought back and forth but couldn’t reach a conclusion. She didn’t even realize that her attitude toward this hypothesis had shifted from a firm denial to a logical deduction aimed at finding a sliver of possibility—to the point where she confused herself.

Fortunately, this train of thought was just a temporary whim to kill time. When the carriage stopped at the inn, she decided to turn her attention to more practical matters:

If Lin Zhao didn’t return soon, they would miss the ship back to Madeira!

Half an hour later, Jane had changed back into her regular clothes. Standing by the window, she immediately noticed Mr. Lintner arriving late at the street corner. He was still wrapped tightly in his usual attire, and beside him was the elegant Miss Constance.

She watched silently as the two stopped and stood outside the inn to talk. Miss Constance had dropped her professional demeanor; her eyes were curved and her smile was bright as she tucked something into “his” hand. Mr. Lintner, quite the “gentleman,” returned the gesture with a slight bow.

Jane suddenly had a nonsensical thought: What if the ship to Madeira left unexpectedly early today? Then she could rush downstairs, grab that “lingering” young gentleman, and scold him for his lack of punctuality.

Alas, this mischievous fantasy could not come true. Instead, because she was so immersed in her imagination, she forgot to hide. Her overly focused gaze finally caught the attention of Miss Constance, who was turning their way.

Miss Constance initially frowned at the slightly rude stare, but when she recognized the familiar face in the window, her smile brightened again. “Ah, dear Jane! So good to see you. You look radiant today!”

“You also look as brilliant as ever, Miss Constance—” Jane started, waving back. She couldn’t resist a bit of playfulness in her tone. “It’s just a pity the gentleman beside you wraps himself up like a walking shadow, needlessly covering half of your light.”

The hood turned toward her, tilting slightly. Somehow, Jane sensed a bit of “grievance” coming from it.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Miss Constance laughed heartily, waving back vigorously. “Well, I won’t delay your journey any longer. Safe travels to you both. Remember to return to London often; Lenore is always talking about you.”

With that, she gave Lin Zhao an elegant nod and turned to leave.

The moment Miss Constance turned her back, Jane “whooshed” back from the window. When the “spirit” wasn’t present, she dared to let all sorts of strange ideas pop out. Now that they were about to be alone, she felt a strange sense of guilt, as if she had been caught peeking at a secret.

Before she could decide how to face her, footsteps sounded outside. But they didn’t stop at her door; they went straight past toward her father’s room. Jane, driven by some inexplicable impulse, pressed her ear to the door to listen.

The conversation through the thick wood was muffled, but her father’s teasing voice came through clearly.

“Mr. Lintner, I almost thought you were going to abandon our Madeira ship for the sake of a London beauty.”

A rustle of clothes—Jane imagined Lin Zhao was pulling out a note to reply. After a moment of silence, her father’s voice became soft and intermittent.

“…In that case, I shall head off first… For now, Jane is my biggest concern. On the return journey, please take good care of her.”

The footsteps became two sets, approaching her door again. Jane scrambled back to her bedside, pretending to organize her luggage.

One set of footsteps stopped outside the door, while the other continued into the distance.

A second later, the knock sounded.

“Jane, it’s me.”