Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 62

Chapter 62: The Person in the Dream — A Change of Scene, Leaving Funchal…

As she sat in the carriage, constantly looking out the window to confirm her position, Jane suddenly realized how beautiful the weather was today.

She had been running errands all morning, but it felt as if the sun had only truly risen for her at this very moment.

The sunlight was warm and mellow, pouring honey-like hues over the roads. The trees lining the path remained a lush, oily green, their leaves shimmering with a faint light, swaying joyfully backward as the carriage sped along.

The distance to the coast steadily shortened. Low-lying houses grew sparse, giving way to a vast expanse of azure in the high heavens. The cloudless, crystal-clear sky—as if it had been freshly washed—met the shimmering surface of the sea in the far distance.

The world had never felt so vivid.

Jane heard the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves and the rolling of wheels, every sound synchronizing with her heartbeat. She gazed out expectantly, watching the crowds move and the waves sway as the homeward-bound steamer slowly docked.

During this vigil, the sea breeze slipped through the cracks of the carriage window, carrying a slightly salty, crisp scent that brushed against her flushed cheeks.

The hectic morning, which had been so vivid moments ago, was now a complete blur. The carriage stopped. Without a pause, she headed straight for the docks, her mind consumed by a single thought: Lin Zhao was back.

And she was going to see her.

Amidst the bustling noise, Jane’s eyes were locked firmly on the exit. She straightened her back, trying her best to maintain the poise of a lady, but her feet felt as though they had taken root. With every stranger that disembarked, her heart leaped in anticipation, only to fall again as the answer turned out to be “no.”

This moment of longing was incredibly familiar, but the difference was that this time, what swirled in her heart was no longer a question seeking an answer, but a flustered anxiety born of self-reflection:

When we meet, what should I say? What expression should I wear? What posture should I take—so that I don’t reveal my internal agitation or that unspoken joy related to it?

Her searching gaze never stopped. Expectation and anxiety intertwined, stretching time until it felt as though the ship carried every person in the world—except the one she longed for.

Just as she was losing her patience and considering storming the ship herself, a familiar call, tinged with surprised recognition, drifted to her ears on the wind.

“Jane?”

Following the sound, a familiar, slightly thin silhouette peeked out from behind a group of tall laborers.

Lin Zhao had disembarked at some unknown point and noticed Jane before Jane saw her. That wide cloak fluttered like a flag in the wind as she waved her hand.

All the sounds and colors of the world seemed to melt away in that instant. All that remained to see or hear was each other.

“!”

Without answering, Jane stepped toward her. Each step was more hurried than the last until, finally, she was almost running through the crowd.

All the anticipated awkwardness vanished. Her heart held only one emotion—happiness, joy, a boundless delight. The closer she got to Lin Zhao, the more she wanted to shout, the more she wanted to throw herself into that warm embrace.

But, had she not awakened to her feelings for Lin Zhao, this would have been just an ordinary day. At this moment, there was no sufficient reason for her to hug her regardless of her surroundings, no reason to ignore the potential for scandal.

Thus, the impulse to reach out flickered in her fingertips but was gently suppressed. Jane stood before Lin Zhao, even her smile appearing restrained.

“Welcome back… Lin.”

Well, she couldn’t entirely hold back all her emotion; when she called her name, her pitch rose by several degrees.

Although she could see nothing through Lin Zhao’s mask, Jane suspected she heard a faint chuckle escape from beneath the disguise. Before she could think further, Lin Zhao took her hand and led her away at a brisk pace.

“Wha—what is it?” Jane was startled, asking strangely as they walked, her gaze occasionally drifting to their gloved hands clasped together.

Lin Zhao looked left and right for the carriage, answering quickly: “I have something to tell you. Let’s get to the carriage first.”

It was a call for privacy.

Realizing this, Jane went silent. She said nothing, her footsteps feeling light and airy. Yes, she knew this was a perfectly normal occurrence. But for the past six months, she had been troubled by her own fluctuating heart, and she had consciously or unconsciously avoided such intimate settings.

Now, the reason behind the trouble was clear.

Solitude had suddenly taken on a slightly ambiguous quality—the kind of atmosphere found in the social areas of a ball, intended for the deepening of a relationship.

When alone, she could suppress these thoughts; but now, with Lin Zhao right in front of her, those avoided ideas sprouted naturally: Could she hope for a more concrete definition of her relationship with Lin?

Staring at the swaying cloak, Jane unconsciously bit her lip, her thoughts drifting further. A ghost and a human certainly couldn’t count on a socially recognized relationship. But what others thought didn’t matter—what if Lin Zhao was frightened away once she knew Jane’s thoughts?

Before her chaotic, romantic musings could reach a conclusion, they were washed away by Lin Zhao’s impatient words the moment they entered the carriage.

“Jane, listen to me. My voice… it seems others can hear it now,” Lin Zhao said urgently as soon as they sat down.

Jane froze, unable to comprehend the meaning for a moment.

Lin Zhao turned toward the front of the carriage and spoke in a low, hushed voice: “Rhodes, if you please, back to Vine Manor.”

It was a deep, raspy voice, impossible to distinguish the speaker’s age or gender. Rhodes, the driver, paused for a moment before asking in surprise, “…Mr. Lintner? Is that you speaking?”

“It is I.”

“Oh…” Rhodes’ response was tinged with disbelief.

Seeing this, Jane’s expression turned serious. She lowered her voice, asking with concern, “What exactly is happening? And… your appearance? Can they see you too?!”

“My exterior seems to remain invisible. And don’t worry, I asked Miss Constance to help me check; there are no drawbacks to this voice.”

Lin Zhao’s volume returned to normal, unreserved. “Just like passing through walls, I can control it freely. I can choose what words to say and what voice to use so that only specific people hear me.”

She paused, then added: “Once I practice more vocal mimicry, perhaps I can help you with more affairs.”

“Help?” Still processing the news, Jane unconsciously repeated the word.

Lin Zhao gave a firm “Mm”: “The letters you sent mentioned you were getting busier and busier, with no room for daily life… cough… communicating only via notes is inconvenient for some collaborations. I thought this would allow me to share more of your burden.”

Jane resisted the urge to pull off the other’s mask, her heart filled with mixed emotions.

She had always known that Lin Zhao cared for her and was willing to sacrifice a lot—this had once made her think that it was love. But until this moment, she was forced to clearly realize that even if it was love, their love was not on the same level.

Looking back, Lin Zhao had her own definition of the promised “happiness” and was willing to give everything for it. But that definition likely did not include “falling in love with a ghost.”

And how much of Lin Zhao’s effort was for the sake of “going home”? How should she face the future where she must eventually leave?

These questions bothered Jane now more than ever. She understood that while she was still in a stage where she could only take from Lin Zhao, asking for an impossible love was far too greedy.

But because of this, she had never been more certain.

She wanted to enter Lin Zhao’s heart, just as Lin Zhao had done for her. She wanted to achieve true independence, to prove that her happiness could be unrelated to the world’s standards. Only then could she embrace her without reservation in front of everyone and express her love openly.

Until then, as long as Lin Zhao’s gaze remained the same… there was nothing she couldn’t endure. She had spent ten years of a lonely childhood waiting for Lin Zhao. Why couldn’t she spend the next ten years waiting for a dream to come true?

The silence was long. Lin Zhao couldn’t help but call her: “Jane?”

Having settled everything in her heart, Jane shook her head and smiled: “This is wonderful, Lin. Truly. Thank you… for always doing so much for me.”

“So, let me do something for you too. I know it might sound arrogant, but even if it’s just… listening to you. Any troubles in business, or anything else, you must tell me, alright?”

Lin Zhao rarely refused Jane, and this time was no different; she nodded instinctively. But through the veiled mask, everything was a bit blurred.

She couldn’t be sure if, during that silence, a resolve she couldn’t decipher had truly flashed in the depths of Jane’s eyes.

But what did it matter? Seeing Jane waiting at the docks upon her return had washed away all the loneliness and melancholy of being alone in London. No one believed in Jane more than she did, so she asked nothing, merely keeping the silent tacit understanding between them—to give this growing girl her own space for thought.

The meeting of minds is a rare miracle in this world. Even parents and children, or dear friends, often walk together while harboring different thoughts. If it is so for humans, how much more so for a human and a ghost?

The lives of most people in the world maintain a precarious peace under such circumstances. And that peace is always waiting for the great turning point that must eventually arrive.

That moment doesn’t come with storms and thunder. For them, it chose an ordinary afternoon six months later, quietly knocking on the door of fate through Miss Temple’s resignation.

Before Maria Temple came to Funchal, she had many theories about the job.

It wasn’t rare for wealthy families to hire a governess, but the age of sixteen and the remote overseas location made this offer unusually mysterious. Her highly-regarded student, Helen Burns, had introduced her to the job, but the letter had spent considerable space explaining the background and advising her to consider it carefully.

Though she wanted to try a new life, she had no intention of turning her world upside down. But just as the thought of refusal formed, she noticed a relatively vague, suggestive line. The initiator of the offer, “Mr. Lintner,” had a mysterious style, knew her intimately—and his identity held a hidden secret.

Ultimately, her gaze rested on the name of the child she would be responsible for. After long deliberation, she changed her mind.

On her third day at Vine Manor, she had a conversation with that “Mr.” Lintner. The other had written the requirements of the job very sincerely.

Miss Temple, as you spend time with Miss Eyre, you will soon discover that beneath her independent thoughts lies a pure and precious soul. Her past experiences shaped her, but also limited her. She does not need an ordinary teacher, but a mentor who can lead her spirit.

Therefore, I entreat you not to be bound by the curriculum. When she seeks knowledge from you, your heart’s sincere response will be the best guide. Her questions may be extraordinary, but they are all her earnest reflections on truth. I hope you are not alarmed.

It is my honor to entrust her to you.

Since then, a year had passed like flowing water, and she discovered that every word Lintner said was true.

She saw that Jane possessed the grand ambitions and unyielding will described in Miss Harrison’s review (attached to Helen’s letter); she also saw that, as Lintner said, Jane would struggle her whole life with endless reflection and internal conflict.

This was not a bad thing. Too many people in the world go from birth to death without knowing what they are pursuing. To have something to long for and to work toward it is worth encouraging.

This also helped her see what she truly needed.

“Jane, my time in Funchal has been very interesting, and your company has been precious. But traveling so far has made me realize more clearly that my heart yearns for my former life. This isn’t to say I crave a stagnant existence; I have simply seen what my heart truly seeks.”

She looked at her excellent student, whom she was quite proud of, her gaze warm and affirming.

“The same goes for you, doesn’t it? I can see that your eyes are no longer as lost as they were a year ago. Whether it be ambition or love, I believe you have figured out what you are truly pursuing.”

The farewell was sudden, but not unexpected. Jane had long noticed that her teacher would often gaze into the distance from the balcony—just as Lin Zhao used to do.

But even with the foresight, the impending separation made sadness inevitable.

Yes, I have figured it out.

Tears filled Jane’s eyes; she couldn’t say a word. She could only purse her lips and give Miss Temple a tight hug to express her reluctance.

In that hug, there was sadness, gratitude, and a voice—audible only to herself—breaking through the soil:

Me too. I have stayed here long enough. I crave a new world.

“Miss Temple, meeting you is one of the best things that has happened in my life.”

“Jane, I believe we will meet again,” Miss Temple said with a smile. “When that time comes, you must tell me what kind of new world you have seen.”

“Of course.” Jane nodded vigorously, watching her teacher’s carriage disappear into the distance.

Having bid farewell to the past, her future was set. She took a deep breath, turned, and knocked on her father’s study door once more.

“Father, I want to develop a new business in England.”

John Eyre was only slightly surprised by this bold decision, which had shown signs for some time. Six months ago, she had already provided a proposal and had been refining it with his support.

But when he looked up and saw Jane looking at her with an unprecedented steadiness in her eyes, adding the final sentence, the calm on his face finally shattered.

“A permanent one.”