Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 63

Chapter 63: New Life — Off to London for Big Business (and Living Together)…

John Eyre leaned back in his chair, the heavy wood letting out an overburdened groan. He didn’t speak immediately, but locked his adoptive daughter in a complex gaze—a mix of shock, confusion, and scrutiny.

Silence spread through the room, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the fireplace, making the stillness feel even heavier.

Jane met her father’s gaze without flinching.

Leaving Funchal was not a whim. Even though she had been utterly lost when she first arrived in Madeira, several years had been enough to mold many habits. For the present Jane, Vine Manor was where her family resided and where her most significant years of growth were recorded. Without a doubt, it had become “home.”

Mrs. Alves remembered all her culinary preferences and always prepared the most delicious afternoon tea. Jane enjoyed accompanying her, listening to stories of how she had traveled from a small village to Madeira in her youth.

Rhodes, the driver her father specifically hired after she began handling business, never uttered a word of complaint about her busy schedule of leaving early and returning late. She appreciated his consistent silence and rewarded him with extra wages during peak times.

And then there was her father, who treated her as his own and never let social prejudice stand in the way of her desire to take over the family business. She had repaid him with double the effort; in the last year or two, she had given the skeptics no chance to mock her, instead making quite a name for herself.

But Jane had decided to leave. Rather, because she was still young, she wanted to go out and see the world. One day she would return home, but before then, she had too much to learn.

Most importantly… she craved a brand-new environment to welcome more possibilities.

In the silence while waiting for her adoptive father’s reply, Jane reconsidered her thoughts once more, prepared to convince him no matter what.

“Permanent…” John Eyre finally spoke, his voice dry. “Jane, the distance between Funchal and London is more than just geographical. We have operated here for years with deep roots. Even if there is business in London, it is an entirely different market.”

“At your age, and with your unmarried status, I truly cannot feel at ease letting you go alone.”

His first reaction, as Jane expected, was worry. “I fear this will damage your reputation…”

“My reputation?” Jane interrupted calmly, her gaze not backing down an inch. “Father, from the moment I decided to step into the business world as a woman, my reputation was destined to be less than ideal. Going to London now is merely adding a bit more evidence for the gossips.”

There was no complaint in her tone, only a nearly cold lucidity.

“I have no intention of defending myself against it, nor can I stop it. The only thing I can do is use greater achievements to silence those voices of criticism. When wealth and merit are brilliant enough, a few flaws in one’s reputation will seem insignificant.”

These words plunged John Eyre into silence once more. He looked at the Jane before him—the once-silent girl who needed careful protection had now stood up as a tree with its own clear rings and firm roots.

The green eyes looking back at him were just as bright as they were years ago when she declared her intent to learn business, burning with a resolve that feared nothing.

“Jane, even if you insist on going, you absolutely cannot go alone.”

He finally relented, shifting to his other, perhaps more significant, concern. “Then… what about Mr. Lintner? Will he go with you?”

At the mention of that name, the sharp determination in Jane’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second—so fast it was almost uncatchable. She lowered her lashes slightly, then raised them again, meeting her father’s gaze candidly.

“I hope so,” she answered honestly, her voice carrying a faint trace of longing she hadn’t even noticed herself. “But ultimately, it depends on Mr. Lintner’s own wishes.”

John Eyre had spent years navigating the business world; he had developed more than just shrewdness—he had the ability to read a person’s heart at a glance. He didn’t miss her fleeting change in expression, and a jolt of alarm surged through him.

He remembered the discussion he had with Lintner a year ago regarding the rumors about him and Jane—right here in this room, Lintner had given a solemn promise—but John Eyre never thought he would need to confirm this with his daughter.

How could she…

His hands tightened and loosened. Facing this impenetrable yet deeply meaningful answer, John Eyre almost wanted to slam the table and forcefully refuse his daughter’s proposal. But as soon as the thought arose, his heart pounded wildly, and he could barely catch his breath as a cold sweat broke out across his back.

The final barrier of opposition in his heart collapsed. He nodded slowly. He instinctively resisted the decision, but felt as if he were being gripped by an invisible force, unable to voice any objection, forced to bitterly accept it all.

“…Very well. Then it shall be as Mr. Lintner decides.”

It went more smoothly than expected. Jane scanned her father’s strange expression, hesitating a moment before speaking. “Thank you, Father.” With that, she curtsied and turned to leave.

“Jane.”

As she was about to touch the door handle, John Eyre called out to her. Jane turned around and saw her adoptive father had stood up from his chair and walked around the wide desk toward her. His gaze was more solemn than ever, carrying the gravity of a final entrustment.

“I cannot control what others think,” he said in a low voice. “But I, from the moment I decided to adopt you and give you everything the name ‘Eyre’ represents, have been prepared—to support any decision that will bring you happiness.”

He stood before her, those weathered eyes filled with deep worry, yet wrapped in a heavy sense of helplessness. He tightened his lips, suppressing the grief and reluctance about to overflow.

“Jane, the Eyre family has no fear of those who pursue themselves. Go. I will be right behind you.”

A few brief sentences, but the depth of support beneath them melted Jane’s carefully constructed seriousness. Tears welled up without warning, blurring her father’s face. She stepped forward and, without words, gave him a light but incredibly firm embrace.

“I will not let you down, Father.” Her final sentence was a resolute promise.

With that, she turned and left without looking back, knowing that even a single tear would slow her departure. The closing of the study door signaled the end of her girlhood in Funchal.

A few days later, Jane and Lin Zhao boarded a ship for London. In the cabin, they sat opposite each other, the table covered in various documents.

“Mr. Eyre provided a truly massive budget. With a fund of this size, I don’t know whether to say he trusts you or is worried about you.” Lin Zhao flipped through Jane’s schedule, unable to hide her amazement. “I must say, your public proposal was excellently done.”

Jane’s pen paused, and the corners of her mouth curled up, clearly enjoying the praise.

“After all, you taught me well.” As she spoke, she couldn’t help but look up, her gaze falling on Lin Zhao’s focused features. “Speaking of which, what exactly were you so busy with in London for so long?”

Though Lintner was the manor’s intelligence consultant, the client with the formal employment relationship was still the mysterious “Mr. Giannito.” Most of the business Lin Zhao handled at Jane’s request was also nominally for the latter.

But Jane had long known “Mr. Giannito” didn’t exist. Now that they were heading to London, she finally remembered to press for an answer.

Lin Zhao’s gaze paused, and her tone became slightly nervous. “Well… I prepared a surprise for you, but let’s save that for when we arrive, shall we?”

“A surprise?” The image of Lin Zhao and Miss Constance on the street flashed before Jane’s eyes again. She pressed further, unable to stop herself. “What surprise takes over a year to prepare? And why keep asking Miss Constance for help?”

“Hmm? I never said that last part.” The teacher, who had taught Jane how to probe for information, immediately recognized the trap. She relaxed and continued flipping through the files.

Jane lowered her head in defeat and continued supplementing her actual London business plan.

Just as her father said, the London wine market was saturated and complex. As a young lady, she had no chance of competing with them. So the initial plan was simply to negotiate partnerships with local wine merchants.

But such a conservative strategy, even if profitable, would not allow her to earn a fortune that would make everyone look twice before she turned twenty, nor would it win her a social status that others wouldn’t dare question.

Giannito—the mysterious wealthy merchant Lin Zhao had invented for her identity—was supposedly “earning 3,500 pounds a year from factories.” Setting aside the income, she at least needed to get herself a factory, didn’t she?

They had discussed this in Funchal. Lin Zhao had thought for a moment and offered an opinion: “Opening a winery in London won’t be smooth. Why not use our existing connections and cooperate with Miss Constance?”

“You mean… a garment factory?” Jane’s knowledge of the garment industry was limited, and she looked confused. “But Miss Constance’s dress shop follows a ‘fewer but finer’ boutique route. I fear we can’t cooperate directly?”

Lin Zhao smiled. “Exactly. So what we need is design guidance from a professional. The factory will still be run by us.”

“Don’t worry. Once we get to London, I will gather targeted intelligence. You stay focused on your ‘bespoke’ services.”

Stopping her reminiscence, Jane finished the supplements to her notes and looked over the “Bespoke Brand” plan, letting out a soft sigh of relief. Since the mass wine market was hard to enter, she would use her “disadvantage” to penetrate the gatherings of noble young ladies, developing a boutique service just like Miss Constance’s.

“I never thought the day would come where I’d proactively attend a ball.” She put down her pen, unsure of how to feel. “Miss Constance was right; business is becoming more unpredictable by the day.”

“You know that the greatest benefit of this, beyond profit, is getting your name out there.” Lin Zhao was quite satisfied with Jane’s plan and responded briskly. “Just as people rarely call Miss Constance ‘Miss Harrison.’ A title is also a manifestation of power.”

“That is true. The name Harrison has become quite grating because of those two ‘gentlemen.'” Thinking of the Harrison father and son, Jane couldn’t muster a pleasant expression. She shook her head. “By the way, I wonder if Lena is in London right now?”

“Mm, you haven’t seen each other in a long time.” Lin Zhao looked up, scanning Jane’s face, her tone turning subtle. “How about this: when we get to London, you go to the dress shop to find Miss Constance. I can handle the living arrangements alone.”

John Eyre didn’t own property in London and had given Jane a fund for accommodation. Jane had originally planned to pick a place together with Lin Zhao once they arrived. After all, it would be their home for a long time—just the two of them.

“No, I want to choose with you! What’s the rush?” Jane opposed almost immediately, narrowing her eyes. “You sound strange… you aren’t avoiding Miss Constance, are you?”

She remembered back in Madeira, checking the mail at the firm; occasionally, she would find letters from Miss Constance addressed to Mr. Lintner that had been misfiled. Terry wasn’t the type to be that careless; she couldn’t help but wonder if he was hinting at something.

Lin Zhao didn’t know the evolution of Jane’s suspicions regarding her and Constance. She raised an eyebrow and took the easy way out. “Why don’t you just assume that’s the case?”

“…” Jane’s brow furrowed instantly, her expression grave.

Seeing that Jane had taken the bait, Lin Zhao decided to add more fuel to the fire. “Miss Constance and I have some misunderstandings… it’s better if we don’t meet for the time being.” She squeezed out a troubled expression. “Since I’ll be staying back anyway, I might as well handle the housing.”

As they say, the speaker is careless but the listener is attentive—especially a listener like Jane who had secrets of her own. She was shocked and suspicious. Although she knew things couldn’t be as she imagined, her father’s previous teasing cycled through her mind:

“It isn’t impossible that our Mr. Lintner is fascinated by her.”

…Now, she finally understood why she had repeatedly debated a hypothesis she had initially denied. She was more afraid than anyone of the possibility that a ghost couldn’t love a human. But now that there was evidence to counter that problem, she hesitated.

“What kind of… misunderstanding could you have with Miss Constance?” Jane forced her voice out, her eyes wide, afraid to miss any slight expression on the other’s face.

Although she noticed Jane was being overly concerned, the secret she had to hide was too important to risk. Lin Zhao continued her persuasion: “If you promise me you’ll go find your friend at the dress shop first, I’ll tell you.”

“I promise! So what happened?” Jane agreed instantly, not even blinking.

“Well, there was a misunderstanding between us. After it was resolved, she became very… enthusiastic every time she saw me.” Lin Zhao made an “overwhelmed” expression, mixed with a bit of genuine guilt for this narrative trickery.

Jane’s face went pale, her imagination flying wild. She found it hard to imagine Constance being “enthusiastic” toward a “gentleman.” But if it were Lintner, maybe it wasn’t impossible?

She pressed her left hand over her trembling right, looking down in a panic. Jane completely failed to notice the holes in the story.

And Lin Zhao completely failed to remember that she hadn’t told Jane that Constance already knew she was a woman.

For the next few days, their conversations always ended with Jane’s hesitation and averted gaze. Lin Zhao, busy thinking about the surprise she was about to reveal, was entirely unaware that Jane’s silent, pained stares were brewing a truly massive misunderstanding.