Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Past and Present — Dreaming of the Past and a Missed Future

Humans, more than animals, possess the will to master their own destinies; yet, more than animals, they feel the weight of the moments when fate pulls the strings.

For Lin Zhao, that moment occurred during the summer after the Gaokao (college entrance exams), when she received a rare message from her father.

It was her eighteenth birthday, but her long-divorced parents naturally had no plans to celebrate with her. She had gone out to buy herself a small cake and was sitting by the street-side window of a generic restaurant, hesitating over whether to call her mother.

Suddenly, her notification bar exploded.

“You received the admission notice, right? University tuition isn’t a small amount.”

“I’m willing to pay, but you need to be sensible. Stop contacting your mother’s side from now on. You know her situation; there’s no future there. Do this, and I’ll pay for your four years.”

“You’re an adult now. Be logical. Legally, I don’t have to pay a cent. My willingness to pay is out of my sentiment as a father.”

“Find time this weekend to visit. I’ve made an appointment with your Uncle Zhang for dinner. You’ve met his son; their family has a good impression of you.”

“You young people should talk more. It’s best if you get along. Four years of university go by fast, and then it’s time to marry. As a girl, if you settle your life matters early, I can stop worrying.”

Lin Zhao estimated that all the words she had spoken to him in the last year didn’t add up to the character count of those few messages.

The fork in her left hand remained stuck in the cake. The chocolate aroma was thick, permeating the air with a sickly sweet heaviness.

Yes, eighteen. Legally, her parents were no longer responsible for her.

Some children fear this day, worrying about the distance growing between them and their parents, while their parents soothe them with coming-of-age gifts and warm promises. Lin Zhao was not one of those children. She felt no fear, and she had no parents to comfort her.

Rather than the promise of “this will always be your home,” she understood the definition of adulthood as “Independence Day”—she could stop doing things she disliked, provided she was ready to take responsibility for her choices.

Lin Zhao looked back at the screen, clicked her father’s profile, and hit “Block and Delete.” Then, she turned off the phone and quietly finished her cake while watching the street.

It was a four-inch cake. Because it was cheap, the chocolate and cream became cloying after only a few bites.

She tried to recall the first time she ever ate cake. It was so distant she could only remember a flicker of orange light. She vaguely remembered her parents turning off the lights and singing to her. In the pitch black, she could see nothing but the wobbling candle flames reflected in her eyes as she hummed along.

Realizing she had no candle and had sung no song, she looked at the mangled cake. It looked somewhat pathetic.

Fortunately, the silence was broken.

“Why are you eating cake without me?” A ten-year-old Jane Eyre leaned half her body over the table. She smiled, her brief pout vanishing instantly. Then, she began to clap her hands softly:

“Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you…”

The child’s voice was crisp, though slightly out of tune. But for the present Lin Zhao, it was enough. The world, her family, her future—the worry, anger, and sadness—all melted into that humming.

Lin Zhao looked up at Jane, who was singing a birthday song intended only for the two of them. She reached out and ruffled Jane’s hair, the confusion in her eyes replaced by clarity.

“Jane, thank you. For always staying by my side.” “Now, I am going to chase a new life too.”

When she opened her eyes in bed, the remnants of that birthday song still echoed in her ears. Lin Zhao let her emotions drift in the air for a long time before turning to look at the sleeping Jane.

Jane was no longer a child. Over the years, Lin Zhao had learned to control her “sleep,” and the times they shared a bed had dwindled to almost zero. But yesterday’s conversation on the beach had felt so right. When Jane had tugged on her arm, her voice trailing off as she begged to sleep in the same bed, Lin Zhao had—against her own “maintain distance” rule—agreed.

Compared to when she was ten, Jane had changed immensely, yet Lin could still see the old shadows in her sleeping face: the delicate lashes fluttering with her breath, the slight furrow in her brow, and the hand still tightly clutching Lin’s clothes.

Influenced by the dream, Lin Zhao felt a flicker of daze. This is Jane. A living, breathing Jane Eyre. She has her own life; she is a real person, not just an ‘imaginary friend’ who accompanies me.

She reminded herself to keep her distance. Occasional heart-to-hearts were enough, but she mustn’t leave too many permanent marks on Jane’s life. It was for Jane’s own good. After all, one day…

“…Lin?” A raspy voice interrupted her thoughts. Jane’s hand tugged at her clothes, the other rubbing her eyes. “Are you awake already?”

Lin Zhao’s heart softened. “It’s early. You can sleep a little longer.”

Jane grew quiet, her eyes closing as if drifting back to sleep. When Lin Zhao reached out to gently detach Jane’s hand so she could get up, the hand suddenly turned and locked onto her palm.

Lin Zhao looked back, surprised. Jane was looking at her with a mischievous grin, eyes half-open.

“Good morning, Lin. Did you sleep well last night?”

Lin Zhao instinctively held her breath. She felt that Jane’s attitude toward her had undergone a subtle shift. “I did… and you?”

Jane opened her eyes fully, sensing Lin’s hesitation. She didn’t ask anything, but used Lin’s palm for leverage to sit up.

“Just okay. I wanted to dream, but nothing happened.” She squeezed Lin’s palm, her eyes curving. “But it feels good to wake up and see you. I like it, Lin.”

Lin Zhao paused. The way Jane said her name felt heavy with an implication she didn’t want to analyze. To avoid a new conflict, she moved the conversation to business.

“I have things to handle, I have to go, Jane. The EIC order is under Vine Manor now, so Mr. Eyre will handle the closing. You can rest.” Noticing Jane’s eyes dimming, she softened her tone. “If you’re still tired, sleep more. Maybe you’ll get your dream this time.”

“Will you sleep with me every night from now on?” Jane asked quickly, her eyes lighting up.

“…I meant the dreaming part,” Lin Zhao coughed and withdrew her hand.

Lin Zhao couldn’t walk out of Jane’s room in her “Mr. Lintner” attire, but she needed a place to change. She now kept a permanent room at the Mason Trading Company. Terui never questioned her movements.

Jane understood this. She hugged her blanket, watching Lin longingly. “I’ll go to the company to find you later. If it’s business, take me with you.”

“Alright. I’ll wait for you there.”

The door opened and closed. Jane lay back, staring at the ceiling. She had lied slightly—she did dream last night, but she hadn’t dreamed of Lin.

She had dreamed of a future that felt like an alternate reality: leaving her school and going to a grand manor as a governess for a little girl. The days were flat, long, and boring. She had stood on a lead roof, looking out at gardens and hills, praying the same prayer she once had: “I do not want to be here. I crave a larger world, more people, more knowledge.”

In the dream, the moment the wish left her lips, she woke up. Was that the life I was meant to have?

In the dark room, Jane breathed heavily. She reached out and felt the warmth where Lin had been. From the day of the lightning storm, her life had been full of surprises because of Lin. She was in a larger world, meeting people, and exercising her own power.

Jane sat up, realizing she had crossed the “center line” of the bed during the night. Lin said she’d be careful not to cross the line so I could sleep comfortably, but we never used to be this careful at Wheelwood. When did we start needing distance?

“Is it because I’ve grown up, so holding me would be… awkward?”

Jane stared at where Lin had slept, then shook her head. She reached out to grab the hem of where Lin’s cloak would have been, a small smile forming. I need to find a way to make her stay by my side legally.

She rolled around on the bed, but her musings were interrupted by Mrs. Alvis knocking. “Miss, Mr. Eyre is looking for you.”

When Lin Zhao arrived at the tavern and changed, she noticed the atmosphere was off. The bustling hall went silent as she entered. Dozens of curious, searching, and meaningful gazes locked onto her like magnets.

“Mr. Lintner, over here!”

One of her regulars, William Bensent, called out. Lin Zhao sat down and pushed a note across the table: “What happened, gentlemen? The atmosphere is unusual today.”

William leaned in, whispering like a conspirator. “Mr. Lintner, your relationship with Mr. Eyre has always been solid. I remember you were even the tutor for the child he adopted years ago, right?”

Lin Zhao’s internal alarm went off.

“We heard… the one who played the Harrisons and Goldstone for fools recently wasn’t actually Mr. Eyre… but that child. Or rather—we should call her Miss Eyre, shouldn’t we?”

The news had leaked. Likely from Julian or Ferreira, who weren’t the type to suffer in silence. John Eyre had planned to announce Jane at the banquet with the signed contract as proof, but someone had jumped the gun.

Lin Zhao wrote: “Mr. Bensent, that sounds more like a story than a question. Which ‘information broker’ sold you this? Don’t be fooled by fake news, gentlemen.”

“Ha!” William grinned. “The source is Mr. Harrison himself. It’s highly credible!”

The table erupted. “A girl?” an old merchant gasped. “Is Eyre trying to lose his entire fortune before retiring to England?”

“I don’t care who’s in charge!” a tavern owner barked. “As long as Harrison gets kicked in the teeth! He hoarded so much wine my bar ran out of stock. I lost a fortune!”

“But… can we still do business with Vine Manor like before?” another asked. “If the principal changes, the rules change.”

“What rules? Just pray Eyre stays healthy,” a crude voice laughed. “Besides, Eyre is still young. Girls are lining up to marry him. Who knows if ‘Miss Eyre’ will become ‘Mrs. Eyre’ later—”

Thump.

Lin Zhao rapped her knuckles on the table. The sound was sharp, cutting off the laughter instantly. She wrote on a fresh sheet:

“Vine Manor is hosting a banquet in a few days. If you are interested, I can secure invitations for you. However, I believe you would be more interested in a profitable opportunity than the private affairs of the master, wouldn’t you?”

“Opportunity?” William’s eyes lit up. “What opportunity, Mr. Lintner?”

“Business is more important!” the tavern owner cried. “I want to buy the wine I’m missing—and not at these ridiculous prices!”

Lin Zhao collected enough information. Once they quieted down, she wrote her final note:

“Do you all still remember the Anit Trading Company from not too long ago?”