A Secret (GL) - Chapter 23.2

Gu Shuge drew a checkmark in her palm.

Ever since they first communicated using checkmarks and crosses for yes and no, the habit had stuck. Shen Juan looked at the screen for a moment and soon understood. Modern electronic devices use capacitive touchscreens that require a finger or a capacitive stylus to function. Other substances—like wood or stone—won’t trigger a response.

Xiaoge had no physical body, so of course, she couldn’t press it.

Shen Juan felt a bit guilty for her oversight and said comfortingly, “This screen is no good. We’ll have one custom-made.”

Gu Shuge wasn’t stupid; she knew more about electronic devices than “Old-fashioned” Shen Juan. When she heard “custom-made,” she understood. They needed a resistive touchscreen—one that responds to physical pressure.

She drew a checkmark in Shen Juan’s palm.

Now that she could write in the palm, Gu Shuge didn’t touch the pen again.

Dr. Mu’s clinic was quite close to the house—about a thirty-minute trip. This proximity was one of the reasons he was the family doctor.

He was about ten minutes away, so Gu Shuge fixed her gaze on Shen Juan’s palm.

The palm was soft and felt wonderful to tap.

“When Dr. Mu arrives in a bit, you stay here in the study. I’ll play some audiobooks for you to keep you from being bored, okay?” Shen Juan asked. She wanted to ask about how to store blood and get some tools like syringes. She couldn’t keep cutting her finger; it was too gruesome.

Gu Shuge immediately drew a cross in her palm. She looked down at the finger and gently tapped the band-aid, signaling her not to forget to treat the wound.

The cut really was quite deep.

Shen Juan understood her. “I won’t forget.” Seeing that she refused to stay in the study alone, she didn’t force her.

Dr. Mu arrived shortly after. Shen Juan stood up, saw the talisman pouch on the desk, and tucked it into her pocket. Gu Shuge followed beside her, noticing the movement and wondering:

Does the “malice” fear Shen Juan, or the pouch?

When they reached the living room, Dr. Mu was already entering. He had been to the Gu house many times and was familiar with everything. Seeing Shen Juan, he greeted her warmly: “Miss Shen is home today?”

Shen Juan invited him to sit. “I have some things to ask you, Dr. Mu.”

Dr. Mu was naturally open with her. He was in his sixties but looked quite young. However, Gu Shuge remembered him from when he was in his forties; in her memory, she could still see the differences. Though he looked young, he was much older than he had been then.

It suddenly occurred to her that Dr. Mu still addressed Shen Juan as “Miss Shen.” He had visited for so many years and was an old friend; he couldn’t possibly be unaware of her marriage to her brother. Why call her “Miss Shen” and not “Mrs. Gu”?

Even the servants in the house were the same—none of them had changed their form of address.

Was it because they switched back after Brother passed away?

Gu Shuge thought distractedly. She instinctively turned her head to look at the wall behind her, where a photo of Gu Yian hung. He was standing on a beach, facing the camera with a bright smile.

He wore a shirt and trousers, his hair perfectly combed. Even with his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned, he couldn’t hide his “board-meeting-ready” aura; he looked nothing like a tourist on vacation. In fact, shortly after this photo was taken, he had returned to the hotel for an emergency conference call.

Photos are strange things; the feeling they evoke changes as time passes. When this photo was first taken, Gu Shuge had only laughed at Gu Yian for being a workaholic. Looking at it now, the photo suddenly bore the marks of time, and her brother’s smile seemed distant, making her miss him terribly.

Does Shen Juan miss Brother as much as I do when she sees the photo? Shuge wondered.

Surely she does. Shen Juan is such a devoted person; how could she let go in just two years?

Then when will she be able to let go? Shuge thought again.

She wanted Shen Juan to let go, but not for her own sake—she was already a ghost, separated by the barrier of life and death, and no longer had the right to accompany her. She wanted Shen Juan to let go because the rest of life is long. Keeping a memory of someone who has long since left this world is too exhausting.

Love and four years of unrequited feelings are agonizing. She knew this, so she didn’t want Shen Juan to suffer that same torment.

“Is this a blood-collection needle?” Shen Juan’s voice brought Gu Shuge back to reality.

She was holding a lancet. Dr. Mu adjusted his glasses and said, “Yes.” He pulled a bag of blood from his medical bag and asked, “What do you need a blood bag for?”

Shen Juan didn’t answer. Dr. Mu had only asked out of curiosity; if she didn’t answer, he wouldn’t pry. Seeing the band-aid on her finger, he treated her wound. “This is deep. How did you cut it? You need to be more careful.”

Having watched the children of this family grow up, his tone naturally carried the concern of an elder. Shen Juan smiled. “Just an accident.” Then she asked, “I’d like to know more about blood donation.”

Dr. Mu was a bit surprised. “You want to donate? Your health is good; you can donate 400ml at a time. By law, you can only donate once every six months, otherwise it affects your health.”

Assuming it was for a Gu Group charity event, he explained in great detail: what to do before and after donating, and what to eat to replenish blood.

Shen Juan listened and then asked, “How is blood from a donation truck stored?”

“The collection bags used in those trucks contain anticoagulants and nutrient solutions. This can preserve the blood for a month.”

Gu Shuge understood. Shen Juan was thinking about how to store blood to carry with her for Shuge’s use. How troublesome. According to this, Shen Juan would have to draw blood at least once a month.

I’m always causing her trouble.

“What are the steps for venous blood collection, and which area is it taken from?” Shen Juan asked. The moment she finished, she felt the dejection and low spirits of the person beside her.

It seemed she could only feel very strong emotions. Shen Juan listened to Dr. Mu’s explanation while spreading her palm and resting it casually on her knee.

After a moment, her palm began to tickle; Xiaoge was writing.

“I’m sorry,” she wrote in the palm.

I knew she would feel guilty, Shen Juan thought. That was why she had wanted her to stay in the study. She sighed inwardly, took out her phone, and typed a line in the memos, though her eyes remained on Dr. Mu.

Gu Shuge leaned over to look. The phone displayed six words: “It’s not Xiaoge’s fault.”

She was comforting her. But it didn’t help at all.

Being murdered wasn’t her fault, and staying here as a ghost wasn’t her fault either, but she was indeed placing a burden on Shen Juan and causing her so much trouble.

Feeling that the dejection beside her hadn’t vanished but had actually intensified, Shen Juan felt even more helpless. She would have to wait until Dr. Mu left to comfort her properly.

Once Dr. Mu finished his explanation, Shen Juan saw him out. She didn’t ask for any needles; Dr. Mu wouldn’t have anticoagulants in his kit during a house call. Without them, the needles were useless. Besides, having asked so many questions, asking for equipment now would seem strange. It would be better to buy them elsewhere tomorrow.

At the door, Dr. Mu hesitated before saying, “I heard about what happened to Xiaoge.”

Shen Juan’s expression grew heavy. Gu Shuge, following behind, touched her wrist with a finger.

Unlike others who saw Shen Juan as an outsider, Dr. Mu had watched all three of them grow up. To him, there was no “insider” or “outsider.” These three children had truly had it hard. Their parents died before they were adults; they held vast wealth but lacked the power to protect it.

Outside were business rivals and shareholders; inside were uncles only thinking of how to snatch benefits, offering no help at all. At eight and fifteen, an age when they barely understood the world, they had to face cruel competition.

It wasn’t easy to keep the family business. Even more rare was that none of the three had a bad heart. After the three uncles treated them that way, the kids didn’t even retaliate once they regained control; they just lived their own lives.

But who could have guessed that after things stabilized, first Gu Yian would die young from cancer, and now Gu Shuge was murdered.

Of the three who supported each other, only the one before him remained.

He sighed. Who could have foreseen such misfortune?

“Take care of yourself.” There was no need for more words. Dr. Mu offered his simple condolences and took his leave.

Shen Juan watched him get into his car before closing the door.

The courtyard lights turned on, and the snow on the lawns was framed by a silver border in the glow. Gu Shuge couldn’t feel the cold, but seeing the branches sway, she knew the wind must be biting. She urged Shen Juan to go back inside by tapping her hand quickly three times to create a sense of urgency.

Shen Juan understood her “sign language” and quickened her pace into the house.

The blood bag lay on the coffee table. Shen Juan took a glass and poured the blood into it, then pulled the talisman pouch from her pocket.

Gu Shuge sat beside her, her posture straight, her eyes following every movement. She was nervous, hoping that someone else’s blood on the pouch would allow her to touch it so Shen Juan wouldn’t have to store her own blood.

Shen Juan found a cotton swab, dipped it in the blood, and touched the pouch. The streak of fresh blood was exceptionally vivid against the yellow fabric.

Gu Shuge held her breath. She then witnessed the pouch “eat” the blood.

It was slow but resolute; the crimson color was swallowed bit by bit by the original yellow of the fabric. Five minutes later, the blood had completely vanished.

It really drinks blood.

Gu Shuge felt her skin crawl. Even with the bright lights in the living room, she couldn’t help but sit closer to Shen Juan, nearly overlapping with her.

Shen Juan remained composed, picking up the pouch and confirming, “It’s gone.”

Gu Shuge felt a surge of admiration. As expected, Sister is amazing—she isn’t afraid at all.

“Try touching that cup of blood,” Shen Juan said.

Gu Shuge took a breath and reached for the cup. In truth, she already sensed it wouldn’t work. She still had no appetite for this blood, unlike Shen Juan’s blood, which made her hungry just by smelling it.

Sure enough, it failed. She still couldn’t touch the cup of blood.

Sensing the disappointment from the person beside her, Shen Juan knew the attempt had failed.

After waiting for Gu Shuge to draw a cross in her palm, Shen Juan said, “It’s okay. We’ve already found a very blood-efficient method.”

“But you still have to use it,” Gu Shuge wrote “Hurt” in her palm.

Feeling the tickle in her hand, a smile appeared in Shen Juan’s eyes. “It doesn’t hurt. We have scientific methods; drawing blood once a month and storing it is fine. You heard Dr. Mu—my health is good, and donating 400ml every six months is more than enough for our Xiaoge.”

She wasn’t a highly emotional person; she preferred using logic to solve problems. Aside from the suddenness today that caused her to cut herself twice, she would naturally choose the least harmful path.

However, minimizing harm wasn’t the same as having no harm at all. Gu Shuge still felt guilty, but she knew that her guilt would only make Shen Juan work harder to comfort her, which was of no help.

So she wrote “Mhm” in the palm and changed the subject by writing “Dinner,” signaling that it was time to eat.

But Shen Juan didn’t move immediately. Instead, she asked, “Do you remember the Border Collie we used to have?”

Gu Shuge remembered, of course. That collie was older than she was and had passed away from old age when she was in middle school. But she had a deep impression of it. She drew a checkmark in Shen Juan’s palm.

“That collie was exceptionally smart. Mr. Gu loved it; three servants were dedicated solely to its care. The meat it ate every day was flown in, and a nutritionist created a meticulous diet for it. It went for walks every day, and it got to decide where they went.” Shen Juan remembered much more than Shuge.

Because it was cared for so meticulously, the collie lived a long, happy life. Mr. Gu had been very careful; after he passed, they continued the same level of care, keeping it comfortable. In its old age, it had no illnesses and passed away peacefully.

“And Dr. Mu’s baby, do you remember?” After the collie, Shen Juan spoke of a small child.

Gu Shuge drew another checkmark. Dr. Mu was a friend of her mother’s; she had seen the baby when she was eight or nine. The reason she remembered was because the baby cried constantly, and whenever it did, the whole family would panic and hover over it until it stopped, before they could relax.

The level of pampered attention had left a deep impression on her; even in their family, which had been wealthy for generations, children weren’t pampered quite like that.

“Dr. Mu and his wife worked for over a decade before having that baby. They had already prepared themselves for not having children, so the baby was an unexpected joy. Everyone adored him. But once he grew up a bit, the family stopped pampering him so much, fearing they would turn him into a spoiled playboy,” Shen Juan said softly.

Gu Shuge thought she knew where this was going.

Shen Juan paused and summarized: “So you see, whether it’s a pet, a baby, or our one-and-only treasure like Xiaoge—if you are loved, you should receive the best care. A little blood is neither painful nor harmful to my health. It doesn’t matter.”

In Gu Shuge’s ears, those long sentences were simplified into two words: Being loved.

She was loved by Shen Juan. Changing it to an active sentence: Shen Juan loves her.

Gu Shuge’s face grew so hot it felt like it was burning. She quickly told herself: Dad’s love for the collie was a master’s for a pet; Dr. Mu’s love for the baby was a mother’s for a child; and Shen Juan’s love for her is a sister’s for a younger sister. This ‘love’ is not what you think.

But Gu Shuge still felt incredibly happy.

After saying that, Shen Juan didn’t move. she focused her mind to sense the emotions of the person beside her. She felt it—a surge of joy, much stronger than when they talked about eating meat earlier.

Shen Juan stayed still, sensing for a while longer. It was still joy, and nothing else.

Finally, she’s comforted, Shen Juan thought with a smile. She stood up and headed to the kitchen.

Since the servants were let off early, no dinner had been prepared. Shen Juan had to cook something for herself.

She took ingredients from the fridge and washed them in the sink. She had always been a bit slow to realize things, and so it wasn’t until the ingredients were clean that she suddenly froze, and a sense of loss slowly bloomed in her heart.

Maybe I should have been a bit bolder with my examples.