A Secret (GL) - Chapter 13

A surge of wild joy welled up in Shen Juan’s heart. She instinctively leaned her hands against the desk to support her weight, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the figure, as if she could never see enough of her.

Gu Shuge finally sensed that something was different. She looked sluggishly at Shen Juan’s phone on the desk; the screen showed that it was exactly midnight.

So it’s twelve o’clock. At this time every day, Shen Juan would call her name to show that she sensed her presence.

Gu Shuge intended to walk over and get a bit closer to her.

“I see you,” Shen Juan said.

Gu Shuge’s legs went weak, and she nearly stumbled. In Shen Juan’s eyes, it looked as if the figure had floated forward a step and then tripped, causing her silhouette to blur at the edges.

“Walk slowly.” Shen Juan took a step forward, wanting to steady her, but then she remembered Shuge’s current state—she likely couldn’t touch her. She withdrew her hand and looked at Shuge with deep concern.

Gu Shuge’s eyes widened as she asked in surprise, “You can see me?”

Shen Juan nodded.

Gu Shuge felt dazed, but her subconscious pulled her toward Shen Juan. She walked over until she was standing right in front of her. At this close range, Shen Juan could see her appearance clearly.

She looked just like a holographic projection from a sci-fi movie. Her body was semi-transparent, but her features were discernible—beautiful eyes and long, elegant eyebrows. Her brow had a soft, obedient shape, and the corners of her eyes tilted up slightly, making her look like she was smiling even when she was angry. When she actually smiled, she looked even warmer.

However, her complexion was extremely pale, with a faint grayish-blue tint upon closer inspection—completely unlike a human skin tone.

Shen Juan felt a pang of sorrow in her heart.

Gu Shuge suddenly grew nervous. She stole a glance at Shen Juan, lowered her head, and timidly called out, “Sister.”

“Have you been by my side this entire time?” Shen Juan asked her.

Gu Shuge nodded, then added a quick clarification for fear of a misunderstanding: “Not while you were sleeping.”

Hearing her emphasize that she wasn’t there during sleep, Shen Juan froze for a moment. Then she smiled—a smile tinged with an imperceptible bitterness. “I know.”

Gu Shuge didn’t notice the change in her emotions because she was thinking about how her current state might not last long. She needed to tell Shen Juan the information she had as quickly as possible.

Although the disappearance of her body made the case complex and eerie, its essence was still a murder. To find the culprit, they had to know who knew about her return in advance. The killer was almost certainly among them.

Gu Shuge spoke rapidly: “About my return, Muzi…”

The moment Shen Juan heard the words “return to the country,” her expression turned solemn. But before Shuge could finish, her voice cut off abruptly. Her semi-transparent figure vanished completely without warning.

Shen Juan held her breath. “Xiaoge?”

Gu Shuge, guessing what happened, asked frantically, “I’m still here. Can’t you see me again?”

Shen Juan didn’t answer. She only stared at the spot where Shuge had been, her expression sinking.

It had only been a few short minutes before she vanished again.

Gu Shuge had expected this. After the failed attempts with the Sutra of Fundamental Vows, burning manifestation charms, and being unable to leave a mark in the incense ash, she knew that even if she did manifest, it wouldn’t last for long.

She sighed inwardly. Fortunately, the most crucial name—Muzi—had been said.

Even though Gu Shuge hadn’t finished her sentence, and Shen Juan only heard the phonetic sound of “Muzi” without knowing which characters were used to write the name, it didn’t stop her from understanding the unfinished message. She took out her phone and dialed Lin Mo.

Lin Mo had already gone to bed. Hearing the ringtone, he grabbed his phone and saw the name on the screen. He sat up instantly and answered, his voice showing no sign of sleepiness: “Chairman.”

“Look into someone close to Xiaoge named Muzi.”

“Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately.”

Shen Juan looked up at the spot where Gu Shuge had just been standing. Somehow, she could picture Shuge standing there obediently, waiting for her to finish arranging the search.

In the past, when Shuge came to find her after school, if Shen Juan was busy, the girl would sit to the side and wait. She’d play on her phone or read a book, occasionally looking up at her. When their eyes met, Shuge would crinkle her eyes and give a warm, sweet smile.

Because of these memories, a hint of a smile appeared in Shen Juan’s eyes. She said to the person on the phone, “There’s a high probability it’s someone Xiaoge met abroad.”

Gu Shuge was indeed standing in place, not moving. She didn’t know what Shen Juan was thinking, but her heart turned somber at that instruction.

She knew why Shen Juan guessed Muzi was someone she met abroad. Before she went overseas, no matter what new friends she made or what interesting things she encountered, she would share them with Shen Juan immediately. Shen Juan knew all her friends and even had the phone numbers of Shuge’s closest peers saved in her own phone.

But that changed after she went abroad. She intentionally distanced herself, never calling Shen Juan of her own accord, let alone sharing the highlights of her life.

In the beginning, Shen Juan often contacted her, reminding her to dress warmly, not to stay out too late, and not to feel too pressured by her heavy studies. But Shuge was always perfunctory, finding any excuse to hang up. Shen Juan never scolded her; her concern remained as constant as ever.

This continued for an entire year. Shen Juan, accounting for the time difference, called her every night at 8:00 PM sharp.

Gu Shuge knew there was a saying that a new habit can be formed in 21 days. Shen Juan’s calls had lasted a year without a single day’s interruption. Consequently, Gu Shuge had long since formed the habit of talking to her at 8:00 PM.

She would start looking forward to it at 6:00 PM. By 7:00 PM, she couldn’t get any work done; she hovered around her phone restlessly, checking its battery level and scrolling through social media. At 7:50 PM, she would sit upright with the phone in her hand.

At 8:00 PM, when the ringtone sounded, Gu Shuge’s heart would race. She would count to fifteen in her head before taking a deep breath and answering. She would call her “Sister” in a very calm voice. Then, before Shen Juan could say five sentences, she would find an excuse to hang up.

For the hour that followed, she would do only one thing: calm the racing heart brought on by hearing Shen Juan’s voice and her concern. It was like this every day.

Sometimes she wondered why Shen Juan was so good, and why she herself was so weak. She knew Shen Juan and her brother loved each other, yet she still couldn’t let go, still feeling a sense of peace because of that 8:00 PM call. When would she be able to let go and simply be family with Shen Juan again?

Every time she was perfunctory with her, Gu Shuge’s heart felt as if it were being torn by sharp claws—filled with both guilt and sorrow.

Then came the day Shen Juan called again.

As usual, Gu Shuge had been waiting since 6:00 PM. At 7:59 PM, her eyes were glued to the screen. When it rang, she started counting.

When she picked up, she had to breathe deeply to ensure her voice wouldn’t tremble.

“Sister.”

Shen Juan’s voice sounded, soft and peaceful: “Xiaoge, have you had dinner?”

“I have,” Shuge answered briefly.

“The temperature is going to drop in the next few days. Do you have enough clothes prepared?”

“I do.” Actually, she didn’t. She didn’t have the habit of checking the weather and didn’t know when the cold snap would start. Her coursework had been heavy lately with several projects running at once; she simply hadn’t had time to think about such things.

On the other end, Shen Juan went silent. Shuge grew nervous not hearing her voice. She restrained herself from speaking first, thinking that if Shen Juan didn’t say anything, she would find a reason to hang up.

After a while, just as she was about to hang up, Shen Juan spoke. She said, “Little liar.”

Gu Shuge’s eyes turned red instantly. She had loved candy when she was little, but too much sugar causes cavities. Especially after her baby teeth were replaced, if she got a cavity, there were no more replacements.

Shen Juan had made a rule that she could only have three candies a day. She had agreed, but sometimes she wanted more so badly that she would act cute and beg the housekeeper. If the housekeeper’s heart softened and she gave her an extra candy, somehow Shen Juan always found out. Then she would say that—tell her she was a little liar.

“I’ve prepared some for you. They should arrive tomorrow; remember to sign for them.”

Shen Juan had arranged everything perfectly. Gu Shuge nodded blindly, only realizing after a moment that Shen Juan couldn’t see her. So she let out an “Mhm.” She didn’t dare say more, fearing Shen Juan would hear the nasal tone in her voice.

But a simple “Mhm” sounded very cold.

Shen Juan didn’t seem to know how to respond to her coldness. She paused for a long time before continuing: “Xiaoge, starting tomorrow, I won’t disturb you anymore.”

Gu Shuge’s mind went blank.

“If you ever fall in love with someone, you must tell Sister. We are still family.”

“Xiaoge, you really are a little liar.”

In that last sentence, she thought she heard the sound of Shen Juan sobbing.

Her brother had called several times to ask what was wrong between her and Shen Juan, but she had brushed him off.

Three months later, she received the news that Shen Juan and her brother had registered their marriage. Shen Juan told her personally.

“12:10 AM. Yesterday, I could sense you for an hour and a half, but today, from the moment you vanished, I can’t feel your presence at all.” Shen Juan had ended the call. She looked at the time, analyzing tonight’s anomaly.

Hearing her voice, Gu Shuge snapped out of her memories.

For three years, they had very little contact—almost none. Even during her brother’s funeral, they spoke very little. The reason she wanted to come back for Shen Juan’s birthday and give her a surprise was because she had heard from a domestic friend that at a cocktail party, the friend had caught a glimpse of Shen Juan’s phone screen—it was a photo of Shuge as a child.

Her childhood appearance was very similar to her current look; the silhouette was unmistakable.

During this time, she thought of Shen Juan every day. When she heard about the photo, her longing was like a flood that had breached a dam, impossible to hold back. She thought Shen Juan must want her to come home. Once the thought took root, it couldn’t be stopped.

“Is it because you manifested just now?” Shen Juan was analyzing why things changed tonight.

To know if manifesting “consumed” the time she could be felt, they would only have to wait until tomorrow night to find out.

But Gu Shuge’s attention was not on that at all. Because of the memories, her heart was entirely focused on Shen Juan. She realized that Shen Juan was very different from before.

She still cared for her, wanted to protect her, and looked after her in every way, treating Shuge as her responsibility. But her care, protection, and attention were now measured; she maintained a distance, no longer the seamless intimacy of the past.