A Secret (GL) - Chapter 26

Gu Shuge had spent the entire night writing, but it took Shen Juan only a few minutes to read through it all.

Aside from the eerie details about the mysterious girl, Shen Juan realized the biggest question remained: what exactly had prompted Gu Shuge, who had refused to return for years, to finally come home?

She thought it, and so she asked it. Only after asking did she realize it might have been insensitive. Shuge’s long absence was a knot in both their hearts; Shen Juan had avoided discussing it, wanting only to solve the case and then find a way to make Shuge stay. But a knot doesn’t disappear just because you ignore it.

Sure enough, after she asked, no new words appeared on the paper for a long time.

It wasn’t that Shen Juan wasn’t hurt, but she hadn’t held a grudge against Shuge four years ago, and she certainly wouldn’t start now. Deciding to give Shuge some space to think, she said, “I’m going to have breakfast first. Keep writing, and I’ll come back to check on it.”

With that, she left the room.

Gu Shuge knew that the reason for her return was a crucial lead and had to be shared; she just couldn’t find a good way to frame it.

It had happened at an academic banquet where she ran into an old acquaintance. The man happened to be a business partner of the Gu Group, and seeing the young heiress of the family, he naturally came over to chat. During the conversation, he mentioned seeing Shen Juan a few days prior.

The moment she heard Shen Juan’s name, Shuge lost all composure. She racked her brain to keep him talking, desperate to know if Shen Juan was doing well. When she heard that Shen Juan’s phone wallpaper was a photo of her as a child, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her heart raced with the urge to go home.

And the reason she chose that specific day was, of course, because it was Shen Juan’s birthday.

But these reasons were hard to put into words. If she mentioned the photo, she could at least attribute it to family affection and claim she simply missed her sister. But choosing that exact day was clearly a birthday surprise for Shen Juan—Shen Juan would surely feel guilty, thinking her own birthday had caused Shuge’s death.

Gu Shuge couldn’t bring herself to write. Instead, she found herself reminiscing. For twenty-two years—ever since she could remember—Shen Juan had been by her side. She had been a part of her entire life.

In truth, even if she hadn’t returned this time, she definitely would have come back next year. She couldn’t remain strangers with Shen Juan forever; she couldn’t bear the thought of having no contact at all. After being willful for four years, she was terrified that if she didn’t return soon, Shen Juan would ignore her for good.

Thinking about this, she suddenly had a desperate urge to see Shen Juan. She wanted to go and take a look. She had no physical form now; she could sneak out, and Shen Juan wouldn’t notice.

She set down the pen and walked toward the dining room, only to find the breakfast still sitting on the table, untouched. Shen Juan wasn’t there.

Confused, Gu Shuge turned to search the house.

It didn’t take long. She found Shen Juan in a lounge on the first floor.

Shen Juan sat on the sofa with her back to the door. Her left sleeve was rolled up, exposing her arm. In her right hand, she held a blood-collection needle, trying to pierce her own left arm. Yesterday, Dr. Mu had explained the steps in detail: which area to choose, how to identify the vein, how to disinfect, and how to insert the needle. But what nurses in a hospital practice thousands of times wasn’t easy to do to oneself.

Gu Shuge walked slowly until she was standing right in front of her.

Shen Juan’s lips were pressed into a tight line. As the needle pierced her flesh, her hand trembled slightly, and she clearly missed the vein. She let out a sharp intake of breath and pulled the needle out.

Then she adjusted the angle and tried again.

Gu Shuge didn’t know how many times she had tried. She saw many needle marks on Shen Juan’s arm, which was now swollen, and her right hand holding the needle was shaking violently.

How could flesh and blood not feel pain? Shen Juan failed once more. She swapped for a fresh needle, took several deep breaths to control her trembling hand, and stared at her left arm with steady focus as the needle pierced the skin again.

Gu Shuge couldn’t bear to look and turned her head away.

She heard a sharp “hiss” and her heart tightened. She looked back immediately. Shen Juan had inserted the needle too deep; a bead of blood welled up from the entry point. She bit her lower lip, which was pale from the effort, set the needle down, and picked up an alcohol swab to wipe the wound.

The cotton was stained red. Gu Shuge took over, pressing it against the needle mark for her.

Shen Juan felt a faint force take the alcohol swab and knew Gu Shuge had arrived. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, but she quickly steadied herself. “Why are you here? Are you finished writing?”

Gu Shuge truly wished she could speak. Yesterday, she had been overjoyed just to communicate via writing, but today it felt insufficient. She couldn’t talk to Shen Juan, even though she had so many words she was dying to say.

Shen Juan had hidden here specifically to avoid Shuge, only to be discovered. She looked a bit embarrassed. After a long silence, she said, “I’m quite clumsy, aren’t I?”

She had actually considered having Dr. Mu come over once a month to draw blood for storage. But that would surely arouse suspicion. Having met Master Jingyun, she suspected there were other powerful individuals in the world like him. If Gu Shuge’s existence were discovered, she worried it would be dangerous for her.

Therefore, she tried to handle everything related to Gu Shuge personally.

The red needle marks stood out starkly against her snowy-white arm. Gu Shuge wanted to say “You’re not clumsy,” she wanted to comfort her, and tell her to stop and not try again. But such a long sentence—how long would it take to write?

The needle hole was small, and the bleeding soon stopped. Gu Shuge drew a large “X” in Shen Juan’s palm, telling her not to try again.

Shen Juan said, “Alright, I won’t try anymore.”

She pulled down her sleeve to show she meant it, putting Shuge at ease.

Gu Shuge stood to the side with a somber expression while Shen Juan packed away the equipment. It was daytime, and Shen Juan couldn’t sense where Shuge was exactly, so she addressed the air: “Let’s go.”

Gu Shuge followed her out. Shen Juan went to the dining room, and Shuge returned to the study.

She picked up the pen again and wrote down the reason for her return, plain and simple. The most important thing now was to solve the case. This investigation was becoming more complex by the second: from choosing Shen Juan’s birthday as the date of attack to stealing the body to torture her, it seemed the killer harbored a massive grudge against Shen Juan as well.

Being watched by such a pair of sinister, twisted eyes from the shadows was enough to keep anyone from being at peace.

Looking at what she had written about the photo, Gu Shuge thought: Shen Juan will feel so much self-blame when she sees this.

The breakfast was cold, but Shen Juan wasn’t picky; she didn’t ask for it to be remade and just ate what was there. She searched online for blood-collection methods, hoping to find a simpler way.

She actually found one: capillary blood. You just have to prick a fingertip; it’s very easy to do. The downside is the small volume of blood.

Until she learned how to perform venous collection, this would have to do. As for the low volume, she’d just have to prick a few more fingers.

By the time Gu Shuge finished writing, Shen Juan entered the room holding a glass dish, casually tossing the old one into the wastebasket. Seeing the blood in the dish, Gu Shuge’s hands trembled; her worry far outweighed her appetite. she desperately wanted to lift Shen Juan’s sleeves to see if she had pricked herself a thousand more times.

“I added anticoagulant; it won’t matter if we use it slowly,” Shen Juan said calmly.

Gu Shuge stared at her arm. Shen Juan picked up the new pages to read.

There was only one sentence. Omitting her longing and countless internal thoughts, it read simply: “At the banquet, I heard Zhong Kai mention that your phone’s home screen wallpaper was a photo of me, and I just wanted to come home and see you.” Zhong Kai was the old friend who had told her.

As for why she chose that specific day, she didn’t say, and Shen Juan already knew.

Shen Juan stared at that short sentence for a long time—so long that Gu Shuge began to worry, forgetting for a moment to wonder how the blood in the dish was obtained. Shen Juan set the paper down and, along with everything written last night, put it into the shredder.

This information could not be seen by a second person; destroying it was the best way.

“Adding everything up, we have quite a few leads now,” Shen Juan said. “Who else heard your conversation with Zhong Kai?”

Gu Shuge thought for a moment and wrote: “Hard to say. There were many people. At a cocktail party, anyone could have walked past us.”

After writing, she continued to look at Shen Juan. She knew Shen Juan must be feeling terrible right now. After a moment, she added: “Even if I hadn’t come back then, there surely would have been another trap waiting for me. The killer was in the shadows, calculating meticulously; I couldn’t have avoided it.”

She was telling the truth. The killer appeared truly deliberate, determined to see her dead.