A Secret (GL) - Chapter 27

Mist drifted across the window, and the outlines of withered branches were barely visible; winter scenery was always a expanse of stark white.

Gu Shuge’s words were blunt, appearing not merely as a comfort to Shen Juan, but as a statement of fact.

Shen Juan glanced at them, her right hand resting on the edge of the desk, her index finger curled and sliding unconsciously. She remained silent for a long time.

Gu Shuge held the quill, watching Shen Juan’s profile. She took a deep breath, dipped the quill into the ink, and wrote: “What are you thinking about?”

Shen Juan’s silence worried her. She was afraid the older woman was bottling things up, succumbing to self-reproach or self-punishment.

When she finished writing, she set the pen down. The quill made a soft sound as it hit the desk, causing Shen Juan to turn her head. Seeing the question, Shen Juan replied, “I was thinking… if you hadn’t left four years ago, what would things be like now?”

Gu Shuge dazed for a moment. If I hadn’t left four years ago, what would things be like now?

That day, she had overheard the conversation between Shen Juan and her brother. She had stood Shen Juan up, failing to show for their dinner.

At that time, she was at the tail end of her adolescence, her personality sharper than it was now. But no matter how sharp she was, she knew that if she and her brother loved the same person, and that person chose her brother, then her own feelings had to be kept hidden at all costs.

That night, Shen Juan returned home to find her already there. Shen Juan entered her room. Shuge was lying in bed, covering her face with a quilt, not knowing how to face her.

“You…” Shen Juan’s tone was hesitant.

But the moment Shuge heard her voice, she couldn’t stop her tears.

“If something is on your mind, say it. we’ll find a solution together.” Shen Juan gave the quilt a light tug.

Shuge gripped the corners of the quilt tightly, refusing to let her pull it away. She managed to say, “It’s nothing, just let me be quiet for a while.”

Shen Juan didn’t leave, nor did she speak. About half an hour passed, so quiet that Shuge thought Shen Juan had left silently. Smothered under the quilt, she found it hard to breathe, especially since her nose was stuffed from crying.

So, she threw back the quilt.

As soon as she emerged, she saw Shen Juan sitting by the bed. Startled, she stared at her blankly, at a loss.

Looking back now, Shen Juan had also been a bit lost. Her eyes were filled with tension, and her voice was soft, as if she were afraid of frightening her. She asked, “What’s wrong? Is there something you can’t tell Sister?”

Looking at her then, Shuge just started crying again, unable to say a word. Shen Juan must have been frightened, because she didn’t ask again. She simply helped wipe Shuge’s tears and, after she cried herself to sleep, sat by the bed and accompanied her through the night.

Shuge thought then that this had to be the last time; she had to at least avoid suspicion. The thought brought more tears. She asked a single question: “Why?”

Shen Juan didn’t answer; she just quietly wiped the tears. Indeed, she had no idea what Shuge was asking, so how could she answer?

Gu Shuge looked at Shen Juan’s face and wondered: if she were eighteen again, would she handle things with more dignity? She thought probably not.

She had been so obsessed with a future together with Shen Juan. Convinced that their feelings were mutual, she had made countless plans and intentions, every single one of them featuring Shen Juan.

In the days that followed, she often reflected on those plans—where they would travel, whether to adopt a child, where to retire. Shen Juan liked warm weather, Shen Juan liked quiet environments, Shen Juan liked looking at the sea, Shen Juan liked spring best. Her plans included so many versions of Shen Juan; back then, the planning felt so sweet.

But strangely, when she looked back during those few days, the sweetness was gone, replaced by a sense of shame and inferiority.

One moment she was ashamed of harboring such feelings for the sister who cared for her; the next, she felt inferior because of her own naivety. If Shen Juan ever saw those plans, even if she didn’t say it aloud, she would probably laugh in her heart, right?

She was also jealous of her brother. She wondered why, since they grew up together, Shen Juan didn’t choose her.

She avoided Shen Juan for many days, then realized that leaving was likely the only path available. If she didn’t leave—if she stayed under the same roof as Shen Juan and her brother—she would only become more jealous and more distorted.

She didn’t want to become radical or extreme. Even if her future didn’t include Shen Juan, she didn’t want to become someone Shen Juan disliked.

So, she had to leave.

She applied to an overseas university. Only after all the procedures were finalized did she tell Shen Juan and her brother. Her brother was surprised and asked why, but Shen Juan only asked one thing: “When are you coming back?”

She could still recall the look in Shen Juan’s eyes then—staring at her as if the whole world contained only her. It made her heart tremble. And then the question: When are you coming back?

How had she answered? She smiled and said, “I’ll be back after I finish my studies. Sister, you and Brother take care of yourselves.”

So, there was no second path. If she hadn’t left, things would likely be much worse now.

In fact, she had thought about it. She thought about coming back and first staying by Shen Juan’s side as a sister. Once Shen Juan accepted her presence, she would confess—or rather, ask if she could take her brother’s place in caring for her.

But now, who could she care for?

Even as a ghost, she was a mess. She didn’t know who killed her and couldn’t help with anything. She was probably the most useless ghost ever.

Now, she could only continue to be a burden to Shen Juan.

Shen Juan waited for a while, but no new words appeared on the paper. Gu Shuge had not answered the question. She fell silent for a moment, then changed the subject to the case: “I always feel that this case carries strong personal emotions. Have you ever offended anyone?”

Gu Shuge emerged from her memories. Without even needing to think, she wrote: “No.”

She went abroad to study and find peace… and to forget her feelings for Shen Juan. She had no energy to make enemies. Everyone around her knew her background and wouldn’t cross her. Her four years abroad had been peaceful; she hadn’t even had a verbal argument with anyone, let alone offended someone.

Seeing how certain she was, Shen Juan didn’t doubt her. She spoke of her own situation: “I have certainly offended quite a few people, but that was all in the business world.”

Gu Shuge understood. Businessmen don’t do anything without profit. Her death would cause internal turmoil at the Gu Group, but if it were done by a rival, the subsequent theft of her remains made no sense.

This case was full of mysterious and convoluted details.

The two of them certainly couldn’t figure it out just by deducing at home. Shen Juan had Gu Shuge describe the location where she was almost hit by the flowerpot and the appearance of the girl. Then, she contacted the CEO of the UK subsidiary. Making an excuse, she had him find a reliable private investigator to look into that location and the girl, strictly instructing him not to alert the targets.

Being British, the head of the subsidiary would find it much easier to handle.

Then, she took Gu Shuge out to meet Liu Guohua, relaying what she had learned from Shuge. After hearing the story, Liu Guohua looked visibly shaken.

Shen Juan didn’t disturb his thoughts, sipping her tea while reflecting on other matters. Gu Shuge sat beside Shen Juan, watching the shifting expressions on Liu Guohua’s face until he spoke: “This… something isn’t right.”

“How so?” Shen Juan asked.

Liu Guohua looked suspicious and a bit confused. “Look, although the flowerpot incident and the car crash share common traits—both can be made to look like accidents—the first one was much cruder by comparison. The girl left flaws quite carelessly; it didn’t look like a meticulously calculated plan at all. Whereas the car crash was handled with extreme precision from the start, leaving no flaws. And the theft of the remains goes without saying; I suspect I’ll remember the name Whale-Fall Orchid for the rest of my life.”

Once he said it, Gu Shuge also felt the disparity between the two events was too large. The first one seemed almost casual—if it worked, it worked; if not, so be it. But the second one was calculated at every step, each part meticulously crafted, aiming not just for the victim’s life but to torture the living. It reeked of dark, twisted complexity, and one could feel the killer’s hatred.

“It doesn’t look like the work of the same person at all!” Liu Guohua concluded.

The case was becoming even more complicated.

“Could there be two groups of people who want Miss Gu dead?” He lowered his voice as if talking to himself, his face deep in thought.

Gu Shuge really felt she might be a “fake” Gu Shuge. She had searched her memory and couldn’t find a single enemy, yet this private investigator suspected two groups were out to get her.

Shen Juan spoke: “Based on my understanding of Xiaoge, she didn’t usually offend anyone.”

Liu Guohua sighed. Offending someone would actually be better; at least it would provide a direction for the investigation.

“Maybe she stood in someone’s way, maybe she accidentally caught someone’s secret, or maybe Miss Gu was simply superior in every way and someone found her existence offensive… there are too many possibilities. Since the motive can’t be confirmed, we have to go back to the car crash.”

Like a puzzle, the car crash was the largest piece. Starting from there offered more leads.

Shen Juan telling him about the previous incident was meant to provide clues and expand the case. But clearly, this lead only made the matter more complex. There had to be a connection between the two, as they happened only a week apart; it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Find the connection between the two, and the case is solved,” Liu Guohua muttered.

But how to find it? He was at a loss.

Liu Guohua was smart enough not to ask where the employer’s clues came from. He didn’t suspect Shen Juan was “keeping” the victim’s soul; he just assumed wealthy families had their own secretive ways of gathering information.

Shen Juan met with him and prepared to go to the office. Once in the car, she noticed Gu Shuge was exceptionally quiet.

“Xiaoge,” she called.

Gu Shuge reached out her finger and tapped the back of Shen Juan’s hand once.

Seeing she was there, Shen Juan felt relieved.

Because of the question, “If you hadn’t left four years ago, what would things be like now?”, Gu Shuge felt awkward, not quite knowing how to act around Shen Juan.

Shen Juan sensed her silence. After reaching the parking lot, she didn’t get out immediately. Instead, she seemed to fall into the same constraint, falling silent along with her.

The silent human and ghost turned the parking lot into a place of absolute stillness.

Gu Shuge thought they couldn’t go on like this. Shifting her focus back to the case, she realized she wasn’t thinking alone—she had a “Wicked Thought” in her mind. Maybe she hadn’t noticed offending anyone, but perhaps the Wicked Thought had.

Gu Shuge felt she was quite clever and shared this idea with Shen Juan, explaining who the Wicked Thought was in the process.

After learning this, Shen Juan’s expression became… complicated.