Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Truth or Dare — “Run Again, And Don’t Bother Coming Back.”

“The order is basically in our hands, Jane. You did exceptionally well today.”

After Ferreira left, only father and daughter remained in the drawing room. John Eyre’s professional sternness softened instantly, and he looked at his daughter with a proud smile.

Jane immediately shed the sharp persona she had used with the outsider. She winked playfully and gave her father an exaggerated, formal curtsy, her tone teasing and triumphant. “Then, dear Father, does your most brilliant daughter deserve some sort of reward?”

John Eyre laughed heartily at her antics. He reached out and affectionately ruffled her hair. “Of course! I plan to formally introduce you to everyone at the celebratory banquet. I want all of Madeira to see how outstanding my daughter is. By then, all the gossip will turn into admiration.”

“Just an introduction?” Jane pouted with feigned dissatisfaction. “I thought you might hand me the keys to the winery directly.”

“You little rascal!” John Eyre shook his head, his tone full of indulgence. “When you manage to sneak a drink from that bottle of ’82 Sherry in my study without me catching you, I might consider it.”

He looked at her and felt a surge of warmth. After a real trial by fire in the business world, she had become much more composed, yet she kept that childlike sincerity when she was with him. She was truly his daughter—the future captain of the Eyre estate.

“Alright, jokes aside,” he said gently. “I’ll arrange the banquet. You’ve worked yourself to the bone these past few days. Go get some rest.”

“As you command, my dear Father!” Jane saluted with a smile and watched him leave the room with a satisfied expression.

However, the moment the door closed behind him, Jane’s playful mask vanished. She grabbed her skirts and hurried toward her room, her composure replaced by a frantic urgency.

Lin Zhao had been present during the confrontation with Ferreira, but she had slipped away the moment he left.

I hope she just went back to the room, and hasn’t left again.

Recalling that month of deliberate avoidance, the joy of her father’s praise was instantly eclipsed by a sharp anxiety. The affirmation she craved had never belonged solely to her father.

“Lin!” Jane burst into her room, her eyes scanning the space for that familiar figure.

But the room was empty. Her gaze eventually landed on the desk, where a note lay quietly.

Everything went smoothly, but there are still loose ends to check. I am handling them now. I will return late. Do not worry.

Do not miss me.

Staring at those last words, Jane’s jaw tightened. That same surge of anger she had suppressed in the carriage flared up again.

Escaping solves nothing. That was the first lesson Lin Zhao had ever taught her, yet now, she was the one running.

“Don’t even think about it, Lin,” she whispered to herself, turning on her heel to leave the manor.

Inside a cabin at the port, Lin Zhao’s hand paused as she wrote, a sudden chill running down her spine.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Lintner? Writer’s block?” Vanderloo barked. He blew out a thick cloud of smoke from his sea-pipe and tapped his fingers on the table. “Don’t you dare think about skimping on my pay. You wouldn’t have signed this deal without my muscle!”

Lin Zhao didn’t look up. She simply pushed a freshly written note across the table.

Of course, Captain. At the victory banquet, I will arrange for Miss Eyre to introduce you to Mr. Phillips. The EIC shipping business will be yours, as promised.

Vanderloo squinted at the note and grunted with satisfaction. “Smart lad. You’d better keep your word!”

Lin Zhao intended to write more details about their future cooperation, but for some reason, her heart wasn’t in it. She gave a slight nod of farewell and slipped out of the cabin like a shadow.

She walked onto the deck, her hood pulled low to hide her face from the sea breeze. Looking out at the grey water, she didn’t even have the energy to review her strategies. Her mind was entirely filled with Jane.

Her genuine happiness for Jane’s victory was warring with a late-arriving fear. The more Jane could do, the less Lin Zhao was needed. The future she avoided talking about wasn’t slowing down for her hesitation; it was rushing toward her at an unprecedented speed.

Jane had said she wanted to talk.

It was a long-overdue promise. Lin Zhao wasn’t blind; she saw how hard Jane had been working, almost as if she were holding her breath to prove herself. But when the moment finally arrived, Lin’s first instinct was still to run.

What would she say? What could I say? “I’m avoiding you because I’m afraid you’ll say you don’t need me?”

“The promise I made you is actually based on an uncertain guess?” Don’t push me away.

Amidst her chaotic thoughts, a familiar voice—laced with suppressed fury—rang out from behind her.

“Lin.”

Lin Zhao froze. Ignoring all dignity, she turned and tried to bolt.

But Jane was prepared. She moved swiftly, grabbing Lin’s wrist with a firm grip.

“Run again,” Jane said, her voice soft and dangerously gentle, “and don’t bother coming back.”

Lin Zhao slowly turned around. She saw Jane’s brow furrowed deep. Her green eyes, usually bright in the sun, were now swirling with layers of indignation.

Lin Zhao opened her mouth and squeezed out a dry greeting: “Jane, how… did you know I was here?”

Jane didn’t answer. She slid her hand down to clasp Lin’s palm and pulled her down the uneven gangplank. Many eyes turned toward their joined hands; only then did Lin Zhao realize Jane had rushed to the docks without even wearing her cloak.

Worried about gossip, Lin Zhao’s voice was shaky as she was dragged along: “Wait, let go for a second, Jane. Everyone is looking…”

“Oh, now you care about what other people think? What about me?” Jane interrupted without hesitation.

She was clearly furious. And Lin Zhao felt Jane had every right to be. If Jane hadn’t caught her, she probably would have buried herself in “surveillance work” for another long stretch to keep herself busy and “guilt-free.”

Recognizing this, the figure under the cloak went quiet, allowing Jane to lead her through the bustling docks to a secluded beach far from the crowds.

“You promised me we’d talk once things were settled. Remember, Lin?” Jane let go and stepped back, staring her down.

At this point, denial was impossible. Lin Zhao nodded slowly. “I remember. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run.”

Hearing the apology, Jane’s expression softened slightly. She made sure Lin Zhao’s back was to the docks, then beckoned her closer. “Can you… lean down a little?”

Lin Zhao complied. In the next second, Jane reached out and pulled the mask off her face.

“!” Startled, Lin Zhao’s eyes widened. Without the mask, her expression was laid bare. Jane blinked at her.

“It would be too unfair if only you could see my face.”

“…” Lin Zhao resisted the urge to look away. She saw the slight curve of Jane’s lips and, after a moment of silence, asked with newfound resolve, “Should I take off the face veil too?”

Now it was Jane’s turn to hesitate. She glanced back at the docks and shook her head.

“No. I just wanted to…” I just wanted to see your eyes.

That unique sense of frustration she only felt toward Lin Zhao resurfaced, leaving her momentarily speechless. Lin Zhao, in a state of resigned vulnerability, was ready to agree to anything Jane said.

They sat in silence for a while. It had been a long time since they had discussed anything personal. Jane took a deep breath and sat down on the sand, pulling Lin to sit beside her facing the sea.

It was a cloudy day, the world a vast expanse of grey. The waves crashed violently in the wind.

This isn’t a view that would make Lin miss home, Jane thought. If anything, it served as a stark reminder of how far this land was from everything familiar.

Melancholy momentarily trumped everything. Lin Zhao forgot her plan to be a passive listener and broke the silence: “Remember that place I mentioned, the one further than the North Pole?”

Jane hadn’t expected the evasive Lin Zhao to speak first, especially about the topic she cared about most. Her breath slowed as she turned to Lin with wide, attentive eyes. “You mean… your home?”

Lin Zhao smiled faintly and continued. “You could say that. But ‘home’ might be too small a word for such a vast area. Like Vine Manor is your home now, but Funchal is just the land where your home is.”

Jane quickly recalled their past conversations. She realized Lin had never mentioned a specific place like Gateshead or Ashford. She always used vague terms like “there” or “the world.”

“I understand,” Jane said, then couldn’t help but ask, “…I’ve always wanted to know, do you spend every moment wishing to go back?”

Lin Zhao paused. She wondered why Jane always managed to ask the questions that touched her heart most deeply.

“No,” she shook her head, accepting the surprise in Jane’s gaze. “I actually haven’t thought of that place in a long time. I mean, I remember things about it, but the urge to go back… it isn’t so urgent anymore.”

“Really?” Jane pressed, her voice carrying an undisguised hint of joy.

Lin Zhao noticed. She arched an eyebrow in surprise. “I thought… didn’t you want me to go back quickly? That’s why you said what you did in London…”

Jane knit her brows in confusion. The sea breeze picked up, sending waves crashing against the shore with a roar.

“You have been avoiding me since London. But what did I say? There must be a misunderstanding.”

Lin Zhao’s voice was very soft. “…You said, ‘Stop saying things like that, as if you’ll always be with me…'”

“—Even after I find so-called happiness, you won’t leave,” Jane finished the sentence reflexively.

Jane’s heart hammered against her ribs. That lingering frustration turned into a sharp realization. She stared at Lin in disbelief. “You interpreted that to mean I wanted you to leave?”

She didn’t understand how Lin could misinterpret her so badly. Since they first met, Lin had respected her, never judged her for her age or gender, and had wholeheartedly wished for her happiness. Jane wasn’t made of stone; to her, Lin—even as a ghost—was a deeply important presence.

Every time she thought of a future where they were apart—at the dressmaker’s, during the night talks in Ashford, on the ship to Madeira—she felt a suffocating sense of loss.

Sorrow, attachment, and dependence… is that what this feeling is?

Rather than wanting Lin to leave, she wanted her to stay forever. Even after she found “happiness.”

The surge of emotion left Jane breathless. She stared into Lin’s eyes—the eyes that had steadily reflected every bit of her growth over the years. The wind grew stronger, blowing sea spray onto their clothes. Lin’s hood was blown back, letting her dark, loose hair flutter.

Jane didn’t move. She wanted to carve every detail of Lin Zhao into her heart. She finally understood that her “frustration” was actually a profound fear of losing her.

But those words weren’t enough. Beneath the attachment lay a deeper hunger. She had so many questions for Lin, things she couldn’t yet piece together. Her intuition told her she had to speak out, to make a move, to truly make Lin open up.

But it wasn’t time yet.

Lin Zhao’s mind, meanwhile, had gone blank. She realized Jane hadn’t asked her to leave; it was her own insecurity that had twisted the meaning. English was a low-context language, yet she had over-analyzed where she shouldn’t have.

A total misunderstanding.

But in Jane’s counter-question, she now read the opposite: she hadn’t just earned Jane’s trust in business or life; she had been accepted into Jane’s heart.

The surprise and joy were overwhelming. Lin leaned toward Jane, her eyes shimmering. “You didn’t say that because you wanted me gone?”

The weight she had carried for so long finally rolled away.

Lin Zhao’s face, usually so calm, was now transparent. Jane saw the blossoming joy in her eyes, and her own thoughts quieted. If Lin didn’t want to leave that badly, then they still had plenty of time.

She was only fifteen. Lin was a ghost unaffected by time. Why couldn’t she believe that only death—or perhaps not even death—could separate them?

Jane hid her complex emotions away. She was becoming good at that.

“No, I didn’t mean that. On the contrary… I think I was just sad at the thought of you leaving.” Jane reached out and gently pulled Lin’s hood back over her head.

Lin Zhao felt a wave of guilt. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood you for so long.”

“No need to apologize. You’ve done so much for me. I should tell you that more often,” Jane said lightly, though her heart felt heavy. Seeing Lin apologize made her feel a strange pang of sadness.

Jane turned back to the sea to hide her expression. Lin Zhao followed suit. The sense of being a stranger in a strange land had subtly shifted.

“Speaking of which,” Lin Zhao whispered, “I am much more familiar with this world than I was at the start. I’m glad you’re here, Jane. Being with you… it truly makes me happy.”

Lin Zhao thought of her old life—the empty house, the meaningless part-time jobs, the hours spent scrolling on her phone. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet she could barely remember a single meaningful thing she had done. But now, time was measured by Jane. Everything was vivid because of her.

“Mhm… Me too,” Jane replied softly, her fingers lightly catching the hem of Lin’s cloak.

She stole a glance at Lin’s smiling profile, a sudden wish surfacing in her heart.

I hope I dream of Lin tonight.