Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 60

Chapter 60: Winter Snow and Spring Dreams — The Longed-for and the Lost…

Ever since Lin Zhao went to London, Jane had sent letters every day. However, compared to her previous letters, the most recent ones were markedly heavier on business details, taking up the space originally reserved for sharing daily trifles.

The distance was too great for Lin Zhao to be certain whether Jane was truly that busy, or if she simply no longer wished to share those small details of her life.

Recalling this, the image surfaced in her mind of Jane gathering her courage to say she needed “personal space,” combined with the matter of the EIC orders. Lin Zhao sighed softly, forced to accept the reality: Jane had grown up and was indeed no longer that little girl who needed her protection every second of the day.

Across the table, Constance was still waiting for her answer. Lin Zhao didn’t hide her mood, jotting down her thoughts on a piece of paper.

“It is nothing. I am just a little worried about Jane.”

She said it was nothing, but her state suggested otherwise. Constance smiled slightly and offered comfort: “Relax. Once you finish work these next few days, you can go back. Besides, Jane is quite a young woman now; there is nothing to worry about.”

After confessing her identity to Constance, their relationship had grown much closer, and their written exchanges had become casual and relaxed. Lin Zhao tapped her pen on the paper, drawing a small checkmark to show she understood.

“Oh, look, the snow isn’t quite so heavy anymore.” Constance turned to look out the window, her sea-green eyes lighting up. “By my calculations, my new treasures from Paris should be arriving at the shop. I must head back to welcome them.”

She stood up, adjusting her gloves, and gave Lin Zhao a playful wink.

“As for you, you ought to use this moment of peace to figure out how to present that surprise you’ve prepared for your lovely little Jane in the most perfect, romantic way. She must have sensed by now that you’re hiding something from her.”

Has she? Lin Zhao froze halfway through standing up. Because of that hesitation, Constance had already reached the door.

“Don’t get up, my dear Lintner; this bit of wind and snow is nothing to me.” She waved a hand gallantly, stopping Lin Zhao’s attempt to see her out, then added solemnly, “Don’t forget to come by the shop tonight. That important matter is still waiting for our final decision.”

With that, she exited like a light breeze, pushing open the door.

Lin Zhao sat back down, her gaze following Constance through the window until the carriage was out of sight. She then turned her attention to the scenery. Snow fell silently in the streets; London in February was hushed under a blanket of white.

Watching the snow, a sense of melancholy rose in her heart.

Another winter.

By her count, it had been six years since she transmigrated into this book. It was a long time. Having an identity, socializing with people, and staying busy occasionally made her forget where she had come from. She remembered how poorly she had adjusted at first—and she remembered the first snow she had seen here.

That was back at Wheelwood. To prepare for the league matches, Jane spent every free moment in the library. Lin Zhao would accompany her, sitting to one side reading quietly. Usually, the room was silent save for the rustle of pages, but one day there was an interlude. At one point, small gasps of surprise rippled through the room.

They looked up together toward the window—

The first snow had arrived. The static world suddenly moved. Fine, feathery flakes drifted down. There was no wind; they fell vertically and densely, landing on the gray walls and withered branches, quickly forming a thin layer of white.

Lin Zhao’s breath hitched. She was born in the south and had never seen snow until she was eighteen. At eighteen, to distance herself from her father, she had applied to a school in a far northern city, where she saw snow for the first time.

From her perspective, one snow looked much like another, yet the setting—the buildings covered by it—was entirely unfamiliar. Her nose stung; she could barely suppress her homesickness.

“What is wrong?” Jane noticed her expression and asked softly after some hesitation.

Lin Zhao reluctantly withdrew her gaze and cleared her throat, not wanting to reveal her feelings. She shook her head and said it was nothing.

Jane wasn’t fooled. She stared at her, then pressed after a silence: “…Do you like snow very much?”

It was less about liking and more about the novelty. For her, it was a symbol of a major life change. And now, it emphasized with vivid presence: You don’t belong here.

She only answered the first part of her thought. Lin Zhao took a deep breath and tapped Jane’s book with her finger.

“Jane, let us focus on studying in the library first, alright?”

“Alright.”

Jane’s head dipped back into her book. Lin Zhao, however, couldn’t help but turn back to watch the flakes sway, wrapping the world in white. It wasn’t until it was time to return to the dormitory and Jane nudged her that she snapped out of her daze.

“Now that we’re done studying, shall we go look at the snow?” The girl’s face was flushed red, as if it had taken her some time to squeeze the sentence out. “You accompany me every day; I can accompany you too.”

It was cold outside, looking at snow for too long was bad for the eyes, time was precious… there were too many reasons to refuse. But seeing Jane’s serious expression, Lin Zhao nodded as if bewitched.

She found a warmer room, opened the door slightly, and huddled with Jane for warmth. They spoke occasionally, but mostly they said nothing, just staring at the snow until night fell and they could see nothing.

“That’s the first time I’ve looked at snow for so long,” Jane remarked on the way back. “And not alone.”

Strictly speaking, it was Lin Zhao’s first time looking at snow with someone else too. If she weren’t being strict, she had seen it with “Jane” in her original world. But either way, she had effectively been alone, hadn’t she?

She couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to pat Jane’s head. A promise escaped her lips: “If you don’t dislike it, we can do this every year.”

Jane fell silent. Her silence made Lin Zhao anxious, realizing the fundamental nature of that promise—Jane never needed her to stay forever. Just as she opened her mouth to correct herself, the girl’s muffled voice sounded.

“Okay.” “Let’s look at it together.”

They said “together,” but that activity only lasted two years. After coming to Madeira, Funchal’s winters were warm and snowless. Lin Zhao thought the promise had ended there, until one day Jane sought her out at the firm, cloak-clad, knocking on her door.

“Shall we go look at the sea?” Her small face was tucked into her hood, red-cheeked and slightly breathless. “As long as we’re together, it’s fine, right?”

As the scenery changed, companionship became the greatest meaning of the promise. Lin Zhao naturally didn’t refuse Jane. She followed her out, and seeing no carriage, realized Jane had come on a whim, sneaking out to find her.

The snowflakes fell slower and slower until finally, nothing drifted from the sky. Lin Zhao withdrew her gaze from the white expanse, finally realizing that the melancholy in her heart was perhaps because this long-awaited snow-watching was hers alone.

She missed Jane far more than she realized.

She missed the time when they were closest, when they could share any secret, when there was no need for “personal space.”

“…” Lin Zhao patted her own face and whispered a rebuttal to herself. “What are you thinking? Jane is independent now; isn’t that what you’ve been working toward all along? Besides, you’re the one who ran off to London without looking back this time.”

She went silent again; now the melancholy was turning into regret. She quickly looked back at the documents on her desk, intending to use work to suppress these emotions for a time.

As she busied herself, time flew by. By the time she snapped out of it, dusk had settled outside. She hurriedly got up and headed toward the dress shop.

On the night-shrouded streets of London, carriages splashed through slush mixed with snow. Lin Zhao pushed open the door of the dress shop, the bell tinkling as warm air smelling of fabric and perfume hit her. The shop girls were busy under the lamps, organizing new lace and silk.

Constance saw her immediately and walked over with an apologetic smile. “You’ve come at just the right time. It’s a mess out there; come wait for me inside.” She led Lin Zhao through the noisy front hall to a small office filled with ledgers and fabric samples. “I have just one last thing to handle, then I’ll be right with you.”

Constance left quickly, pulling the door shut behind her.

The office went silent, save for the faint murmur of voices outside. Lin Zhao sat in the only chair, her gaze naturally drifting to the window again. At some point, the snow had started again, swirling in the glow of the gas lamps.

To keep her thoughts from wandering, she decided to write down the matters she needed to discuss with Constance tonight. She took pen and paper from her handbag and spread them out under the dim light.

The matters weren’t complex—mostly wrapping up loose ends. But since it was a “surprise for Jane,” her pen paused when she wrote that name, and she thought of the recent letters that felt “off.”

She whispered under her breath, “Perhaps… it would be better to go back sooner?”

Just then, the office door pushed open.

“Lin…?” Constance’s voice sounded, tinged with uncertainty but quickly turning into undisguised shock. “Oh, my God, were you just speaking? With your voice?”

She walked quickly to Lin Zhao, her sea-green eyes wide with disbelief.

Speaking? Lin Zhao took a moment to react. Seeing that the other wasn’t joking, her brow furrowed.

“Constance…?” she asked tentatively.

“It’s me, it’s me! For real!” Constance answered instinctively, then lightly touched her own cheek, her expression becoming even more curious. “And, it sounds like you are much younger than I imagined, my dear friend.”

Incredible as it was, reality was before them. Lin Zhao clenched her hands and confirmed again with her own voice: “Wait, you can truly hear me? You aren’t just guessing?”

Constance looked around the small office with exaggerated emphasis, then locked her gaze back on Lin Zhao under the cloak, answering clearly:

“I think, my dear Lin, unless there is another talking ghost hidden in this room, then what I heard was indeed you.”

Lin Zhao had no choice but to believe it: after all these years, her body had undergone another strange change.

After the initial shock, a bold thought immediately surfaced. She leaned toward Constance, lowering her voice:

“Constance, I know you have helped me much already. But for the sake of our friendship, may I ask for your help one more time to confirm something carefully?”

Hearing Lin Zhao use her real voice to speak so solemnly for the first time, Constance immediately dropped her look of surprise and playfulness. She took a deep breath, her tone grave: “Of course, Lin. Whatever you need to do, I will be your most loyal co-conspirator. Please, tell me.”

After finishing her explanation, Lin Zhao looked out the window while waiting for an answer. The snow outside was getting heavier.

The cold weather made for sweet sleep. Unfortunately, Jane wouldn’t get to enjoy it tonight.

“Why?” Jane blinked, her voice trailing off in disbelief. “You came back without telling me?”

She had been so busy lately, holding her ground against Davis’s advances and her father’s hints, while simultaneously rejecting that overstepping suitor and finalizing most of the contracts for the Giannito Chamber of Commerce. Every day she returned to Vine Manor, washed, and collapsed into bed, with no energy for anything else.

Lin Zhao’s reply had mentioned a return date a few days away, so Jane had thrown all her focus into work.

But tonight, halfway through her sleep, she rolled over and touched familiar, soft skin, which made her sit bolt upright in shock.

The person before her was undoubtedly Lin Zhao.

She was wearing Jane’s nightgown, though because of her height, it didn’t fit quite right—it was tight, faintly revealing the lines of her body. Her long black hair was scattered loosely, and on her beautiful face, her dark eyes were slightly curved as she met Jane’s gaze without flinching.

“You seemed busy; I didn’t want to distract you.” Lin Zhao reached out, resting her hand lightly on the back of Jane’s.

Times were different now. Being touched made Jane’s face burn instantly. She snatched her hand back and turned her head to avoid Lin Zhao’s gaze, stammering, “I… I have been a bit busy. But if you were coming back, I would certainly have had time to meet you. Besides, besides…”

I haven’t decided yet what kind of mindset I should have when facing you.

She couldn’t say the last part out loud.

But perhaps because they hadn’t been alone for so long, Lin Zhao didn’t let the topic remain vague. She leaned in closer, peeking to find those dodging green eyes, her voice full of a smile: “Besides what? Why are you afraid to look at me? Have we been apart so long that you’ve started to dislike me?”

The distance was so small that Jane could almost feel the warm breath brushing her face. She pursed her lips, reaching out to grab Lin Zhao’s wrist, which was still moving closer. Her words were still broken: “Wait… wait a moment, don’t get too close—and how could I ever dislike you…”

Rather than dislike, it was that she loved her too much.

In that sense, she should be glad Lin Zhao had returned unannounced; in the deep of night, no one could see the specific expression on the other’s face. Jane was certain her face was redder than the ripest apple.

But this rebuttal clearly failed to convince the other. Lin Zhao seemed in high spirits. She lay down on the bed with a smile, bringing Jane down with her. Once they were both lying there, Lin Zhao moved quickly to press against her, her whole body practically resting on Jane.

“Didn’t you say before that you wanted to sleep together again?”

Even though Jane was the one holding the other’s wrist, she felt entirely pinned down, with nowhere to run. She was forced to look up, her face burning as she looked back. Her own gown was soft and loose; even if it was a bit small for Lin Zhao, a large portion of neck and collarbone was exposed as she lay there.

Lin Zhao’s skin wasn’t nearly as pale as hers, but in the dim room, it provided a sharp contrast to the surrounding gray-black blur. Jane’s gaze was almost sucked into that expanse of white, her head growing dizzy.

“Where are you looking, Jane?” Just then, Lin’s voice drifted light as a feather to her ear, his tone meaningful. “You’re nearly staring a hole through the clothes. Do you not want me wearing your gown? Then I shall take it off now…”

Take… take it off?

They were both women; their bodies were built the same. But those words made Jane’s heart race with heat. How could Lin Zhao say such things?

Those words practically pierced right through her unspeakable thoughts. If she truly saw her feelings, would she still be this proactive?

Jane shut her eyes tight and whispered a denial: “I didn’t mean that—”

—THUD.

Before she could finish, she was interrupted by a sudden sense of weightlessness and a heavy sound. She snapped her eyes open. The world was spinning; the room slowly settled into place in her blurred vision. Sunlight streamed through the window; the room was bright.

Jane struggled to prop herself up, looking hesitantly at the bed.

There was only a mess of blankets she had kicked around, caught at the end of the bed so they wouldn’t fall to the floor.

The person wearing her nightgown, the person who kept pressing closer even when avoided, the person smiling at her… she wasn’t there at all.

Jane’s face turned scarlet in an instant.

She didn’t even need to ask; she knew that person was likely still far away in London according to the schedule.

Everything so vivid had only been a dream. A beautiful dream signaling the coming of spring.