Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Schooling, but an Aristocratic One—Compared to Lowood, Here…

The carriage traveled along the smooth gravel roads of the countryside, the monotonous rolling of the wheels acting as a hypnotic lullaby. Jane leaned against the window, watching the fields and trees retreat rapidly into the distance.

The ornate yet oppressive silhouette of Gateshead Hall finally vanished completely beyond the horizon.

“What are you thinking about, Jane?” Lin Zhao asked with some concern. They had traveled quite a distance, but Jane remained silent, a look of heavy contemplation on her face.

Hearing her voice, the head resting against the window moved and finally turned back. As soon as Jane’s eyes met Lin Zhao’s, she let out a long sigh.

“Actually… I once dreamed of going to school. In the dream, there were many people, and the teachers were terrifying. I didn’t have enough to eat… and the stone tablet with the school’s name was more gloomy and frightening than a tombstone in a storybook… I’m a little worried.”

Lin Zhao caught the keywords in Jane’s words and processed them quickly in her mind.

It sounds like Jane dreamed of Lowood—the charitable institution where she was originally supposed to be sent.

Since the plot was no longer moving forward through physical events, was Jane sensing it through her dreams? Did this mean that the plot at this node had been completely altered by her intervention? Although she hadn’t expected to hear this from Jane, knowing the source of her worry made Lin Zhao feel a bit lighter.

She smiled at Jane, her tone certain. “Don’t worry. Have you forgotten how much Mrs. Reed fears me? Right now, she’s probably just praying you’ll stay quiet at a good school and never let her see you again. She paid quite a price to make that happen.”

With Lin Zhao’s assurance, the clouds of worry on Jane’s face finally dissipated. She nodded quickly twice and climbed back to the window to watch the scenery—after all, she rarely had the chance to travel far.

The carriage traveled for nearly a day. At midnight, it finally slowed as it entered an open woodland. After passing through a long avenue of towering oaks, a magnificent complex of buildings appeared before Jane’s eyes.

Jane almost held her breath.

It wasn’t a single isolated building, but a cluster of well-arranged brick-red structures. The carriage drove through the stone gateway into a spacious plaza, stopping beside a fountain in the center.

Holding her luggage and looking up from the fountain, Jane saw the main building directly ahead, featuring elegant white columns and wide stone steps. The side wings were connected by exquisite corridors. Behind them, vast lawns were manicured like green velvet, dotted with patches of colorful flowers.

What she saw could easily be mistaken for an aristocratic estate.

“Wow…” Lin Zhao tried to maintain her role as the mature role model, but she couldn’t suppress her amazement. “It seems our Mrs. Reed really spent a fortune to ‘exorcise the ghost’.”

Their pause was brief. A middle-aged man in a proper servant’s uniform stepped out from the main building and took Jane’s small, somewhat shabby trunk.

“You must be Miss Jane Eyre?” he asked politely. “I am the school porter. Mrs. Victor is expecting you.”

Jane instinctively looked at Lin Zhao. Since outsiders couldn’t see her “guardian spirit,” Lin Zhao quickly waved her hand, signaling Jane to follow the man. The little girl gave a cramped nod and followed him up the wide stone steps. The oak doors, opened for her arrival, slowly creaked shut behind her.

The sound of the heavy doors closing was entirely different from the ones she had heard before. Her ears tingled, and a clear thought pierced her heart like a needle: She had truly left Gateshead.

The interior of the hall was even more grand than the exterior. The ceiling was high, with a massive crystal chandelier hanging from it, and the polished marble floor reflected their figures clearly. The air was filled with a faint scent of ink and floor wax.

The porter led them to an office and knocked softly.

“Come in,” a gentle, steady female voice replied.

As the door opened, a lady in a dark blue gown stood up from behind her desk. She looked to be about thirty, with a dignified face and eyes that were clear and wise.

“You must be Jane Eyre. Welcome to Whirlwood. I am the headmistress, Irene Victor.” Miss Victor’s smile was as warm as a spring breeze. “I know that by rule I should explain the school regulations to you first, but the journey was long and it is very late. I’ll have Mrs. Miller settle you in, and we shall talk tomorrow.”

Her gaze landed on Jane without a trace of judgment regarding her plain clothes or small stature—only pure concern.

Watching from the side, Lin Zhao felt a wave of relief. This Miss Victor was a world apart from the hypocritical Mr. Brocklehurst of the original book.

A kind-looking middle-aged woman, the matron Mrs. Miller, picked up a small brass oil lamp and signaled Jane to follow. They stepped out of the office into a wide corridor, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Eventually, Mrs. Miller bypassed the side wings of the main building and led them through a side door onto a gravel path leading to the rear buildings.

The air was cool and crisp, smelling of damp earth and the distant forest. Moonlight illuminated the path, revealing the silhouettes of several buildings—less grand than the main hall, but neat and quiet.

“From here, the paths to the dormitories split. The boys’ section is to the left, near the stables. The girls’ section,” she said, turning to a wider path on the right, “is this way, across the lawn.”

It was a vast lawn, its breadth and smoothness palpable even at night, the soft blades of grass heavy with dew that dampened their skirts as they walked. Mrs. Miller slowed her pace, pointing toward a dark, seemingly endless forest silhouette in the moonlight.

“That is the Academy’s woods.” Her tone turned slightly serious as she looked at Jane. “School rules strictly state that students are never allowed to enter the forest alone without a teacher. This is for your safety. You must remember that.”

Jane and Lin Zhao looked toward the woods, their edges blurred by the night. Jane nodded instinctively, while Lin Zhao felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering the forest where she first arrived—it certainly wasn’t safe.

At the end of the lawn, an elegant three-story building appeared. Most windows were dark, but a few emitted a warm glow.

“The children are sleeping, keep quiet,” Mrs. Miller whispered, leading Jane up the steps and through a green-painted door into a cozy corridor. They stopped at a door marked “3-B.”

“Eleanor, Beatrice, your new roommate has arrived.”

The door opened to reveal a cozy room for three. Though not large, it was elegantly decorated, with each bed having its own desk and wardrobe. A girl with chestnut curls was sitting on her bed reading; she looked up immediately and flashed a big, friendly smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Miller!” She hopped off the bed and walked over, naturally taking Jane’s hand. “Hi! I’m Eleanor Harrison. Welcome!”

Another blonde girl was brushing her long hair in front of a mirror. She gave Jane a faint glance through the reflection and gave a polite, cold nod.

“Beatrice Knox.” Her voice was as temperatureless as her expression.

Lin Zhao noticed that when Jane put her small trunk in the corner, Beatrice’s hand paused for a second. Her gaze lingered on the trunk, and her lip seemed to curl slightly.

Eleanor, however, paid no mind to such things. After seeing Mrs. Miller out, she enthusiastically introduced the room:

“Lights out is at ten, but today is an exception. We wake up at seven and class starts at eight. Don’t be late—Miss Victor is very strict about punctuality! Oh, and the food here is delicious, especially the Wednesday pudding!”

Overwhelmed by the warmth, Jane could only whisper her thanks, her hands nervously twisting her apron. She stood in the center of the room, her eyes darting around. After her gaze lingered for a few seconds on Eleanor’s silk nightgown and the silver brush set on Beatrice’s desk, she stiffly expressed her wish to rest, ending the conversation.

Lin Zhao watched and guessed Jane’s thoughts: as she had told Jane, this was a “good school.” This meant most students came from wealthy families and had received some education. The treatment Jane lacked at Gateshead was the standard background for most students here. A clever child like Jane would realize this instantly.

Compared to the material and spiritual hell of Lowood, Whirlwood was like heaven—but new problems followed. Here, there was no physical torture, but there were invisible barriers of class and origin. Jane was like a small blade of grass grown in a stone crack, suddenly transplanted into a fragrant rose garden. That sense of being out of place was its own kind of trial.

As the night deepened, the room grew quiet. Lin Zhao sat softly on the edge of Jane’s bed and touched the “mound” created by the soft quilts. The mound stilled; clearly, the girl wasn’t asleep, but she didn’t react further, signaling her refusal to talk.

“Jane…” Lin Zhao hesitated but decided to speak. “It doesn’t look like a school that lets its students go hungry, does it?” She didn’t mention the emotions she observed, but used a light tone to circle back to their conversation from earlier. She wanted to solve Jane’s troubles, but for now, she just didn’t want her to go to sleep worried.

There was no movement on the bed. Just as Lin Zhao wondered if she had fallen asleep, the blanket moved, revealing a pair of round eyes.

“Yes… and it’s much grander than in the dream…” Fearing she would disturb her roommates, Jane’s voice was so soft it was almost a breath. Her brow hadn’t fully unfurled, but her lips curled up slightly at the answer. The diversion had worked.

Yes, Lowood is completely in the past, Lin Zhao thought.

It was then that she realized she had used her knowledge of the original book to drastically alter Jane’s destiny. Lowood was gone; Helen Burns and Miss Temple might never appear, replaced by two very different roommates and Miss Victor.

From this moment on, the copy of Jane Eyre she carried was likely useless for anything other than names. The road ahead had turned into a thick white fog. She no longer held the “strategy guide”; like Jane, she would have to feel her way forward.

Perhaps… that’s for the best.

The unknown meant infinite possibilities. All she had to do was accompany this child and turn those possibilities into a reality better than anything in the book.

Lin Zhao’s heart softened. She couldn’t help but reach out and pat Jane’s head. This was the first time she had reached out to touch Jane. Because she didn’t know why Jane could see her, Lin Zhao had intentionally kept her distance to avoid any negative effects of physical contact. The sudden touch made them both freeze, staring at each other like they were re-enacting their first meeting.

Lin Zhao moved to withdraw her hand in a panic, but Jane’s reaction was faster; she gently pressed her forehead into Lin Zhao’s palm. Then, before Lin Zhao could react, Jane pulled back and tucked her head under the covers again.

“Thank you, Lin. Good night.”

Though they had known each other for a short time, this was the first time Jane had initiated a goodnight. The whispered farewell made Lin Zhao’s heart melt.

The child is really growing up.

She held her hand to her chest, stood up from the bed, and sat by the window. She needed to prepare for certain situations. For instance, the look Beatrice gave Jane was definitely not right.

She hoped it was just her imagination, but she had a feeling that the girl might turn out to be the leader of some cliché school-bully trope…