A Secret (GL) - Chapter 3

The scene was normal—exactly what a routine traffic accident should look like. Captain Chen stayed near Shen Juan, while the other officers kept their heads down, busily working.

They stayed for about an hour, but no anomalies were found.

Gu Shuge wasn’t surprised; she also believed this was just a common traffic accident. Her return to the country hadn’t been publicized. Although the cake had been ordered in advance, she remembered clearly that because she wanted her return to be a secret surprise for Shen Juan, she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. She had even handled the small task of picking up the cake herself rather than delegating it.

No one knew she would be at that bakery, let alone have the chance to orchestrate a seamless car crash in advance.

As the sky grew dark, Gu Shuge estimated it was around five o’clock. The police were preparing to wrap up. Any evidence that needed to be collected had long since been secured. She suspected the reason so many officers were still lingering was mostly because Shen Juan was there—out of respect for the Gu Group.

Shen Juan also prepared to leave. An ordinary sedan pulled up, and a policewoman stepped out. Gu Shuge observed her demeanor; her face was relaxed, her steps light, and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry. She likely wasn’t there to deliver any urgent leads.

Shen Juan cast a glance her way as well, likely coming to the same conclusion. After that single look, Shen Juan paid her no more attention.

The restless young officer from before jogged over as soon as he saw the woman. He patted her shoulder and asked with a laugh, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you off the clock?”

The policewoman swatted him back and said with a grin, “I just finished some paperwork and decided to stop by. Did you guys find anything?”

The two youngsters looked the picture of youthful energy as they began chatting, arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

Gu Shuge stayed by Shen Juan’s side, a distance that allowed her to hear their conversation perfectly. Unaware of her surroundings, the policewoman lowered her voice, speaking with a touch of mystery and sighing: “That driver is just too unlucky. His family situation is pitiful. His daughter has congenital heart disease and is very weak. His wife has to stay home to care for her and can’t work. His parents are in poor health too; they can do some odd jobs, but their income is limited—they can barely support themselves. You could say the entire financial burden is on him alone. Now that he’s killed someone while driving fatigued, he’s looking at up to three years in prison. That family is probably ruined.”

The young man sighed upon hearing this, but then quickly adopted a gossiping expression. “How could it be as cheap as ‘under three years’? Do you know who he hit? I bet they’ll try to rot him in jail, or if they’re even more ruthless, push for intentional homicide and go straight for a death sentence.”

The policewoman’s interest was piqued. She immediately asked, “Who was it?”

The excited young man didn’t answer. He had spotted Shen Juan walking toward them and nervously nudged the policewoman with his elbow. She sensed the shift and immediately fell silent.

Gu Shuge followed Shen Juan as they walked past them without a sideways glance. Gu Shuge was a fairly easygoing person; when she was alive, she had a high tolerance for gossip. Now, she wasn’t about to waste energy getting angry over useless chatter.

She only looked at Shen Juan with concern. Shen Juan’s expression was calm, as if she hadn’t heard a single word.

True, Gu Shuge thought. If I’m not even angry, Shen Juan’s temperament is even steadier than mine. Why would she care about such idle talk? Gu Shuge looked at Shen Juan’s profile, desperately wanting to reach out and touch her.

But she didn’t dare. Even knowing Shen Juan couldn’t feel it, she didn’t dare.

Once they were in the car, Lin Mo, who had gone to say goodbye to Captain Chen, returned as well.

Shen Juan closed her eyes. Gu Shuge assumed she wanted to rest, so she mimicked her, closing her own eyes and trying to inhale. She discovered that ghosts can, in fact, breathe.

“Find a private investigator to look into that driver, especially his daughter’s illness,” Gu Shuge heard Shen Juan’s voice say in the darkness.

Gu Shuge opened her eyes, surprised. Does Shen Juan think there’s something fishy about the accident? The scene clearly showed no signs of premeditation. Was it the driver’s family situation that made her suspicious? While killing for money was as common as drinking water in movies, it was a difficult moral line to cross in reality.

Lin Mo replied briskly, “Yes.” His efficiency was truly high; his self-recommendation years ago had been backed by genuine capability. As soon as he finished speaking, he took out his phone and contacted someone on the spot.

In less than five minutes, he had secured a private investigator and reported the investigator’s resume to his boss.

After finishing the report, Lin Mo looked into the rearview mirror and softened his voice. “Chairman, I’ve contacted a funeral home. Where should we hold Miss Gu’s service? We can start setting up the memorial hall in advance.”

With those words, the atmosphere in the car instantly turned heavy.

Shen Juan’s eyelashes flickered. Gu Shuge could feel her grief flowing through her veins like blood. Consequently, Gu Shuge’s own heart twisted into a knot.

Shen Juan didn’t answer him directly. Instead, she said, “Go home.”

The driver, who had been so quiet he seemed non-existent, expertly started the car and drove off smoothly.

Lin Mo hesitated, looking like he wanted to offer comfort but didn’t know where to start.

Gu Shuge was getting anxious. She glared at Lin Mo, wishing he would say anything at all—just don’t let Shen Juan drown in her sorrow alone. But Lin Mo suppressed his urge to speak, pulled out his phone, sent a few messages, and busied himself with work.

The gloom in the car deepened.

Gu Shuge stared blankly ahead. She realized that she was non-existent; no one could see her, so nothing she did mattered.

Shen Juan’s skin was very pale, almost translucent. Gu Shuge had always known she was fair; when they were little, she loved to poke Shen Juan’s cheek and say, “I want to be as white as Sister.”

As she grew up, although she remained close to Shen Juan, she actually stopped looking at her directly for long periods. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; she just didn’t dare.

Now, she could look at her boldly. Yet that fear cultivated over many years felt like an instinct dissolved into her very being. After watching Shen Juan for a while, she uncomfortably shifted her gaze away.

I don’t exist, Gu Shuge thought. So, it doesn’t matter if I look at her. No one will find out, and Shen Juan won’t find out either. She tried to convince herself.

But her eyes felt fixed in one direction, and she couldn’t bring herself to turn her head to look at her again.

Gu Shuge continued this cycle—convincing herself, failing, convincing herself again, and failing again.

Before she knew it, they had arrived outside the house. Lin Mo got out and opened the car door.

Gu Shuge didn’t need to use the door. She could come and go as she pleased now; passing through walls was as simple as passing through air. However, she chose not to overlap with Shen Juan’s body. Instead of getting out with her, she exited through the other door, passing directly through it.

Once outside, she still found it a bit magical. She reached out, let her hand pass through the car door, and then pulled it back. To a human, a solid object is reality; to her, it was just like air.

But then, she was just like air to humans as well. A person passing through her body would be as simple as her passing through that car door.

Shen Juan walked into the house.

Lin Mo and the driver stayed outside. Gu Shuge followed behind Shen Juan. She glanced back and saw that the driver and Lin Mo both looked a bit lost, unsure of what to do next.

Go home, Gu Shuge thought. Besides going home, what else is there to do?

She turned back and followed Shen Juan inside.

Her home was in the city, near the center. Logically, this should have been the noisest, most bustling area. However, when the older generation of the Gu family built this estate, they designed it to be a sanctuary of quiet amidst the chaos. Through the greenery in the garden and the distribution of surrounding buildings, the noise and dust were kept at bay, making the place as peaceful as a hidden paradise.

The house was European in style, but not entirely Westernized. it retained a bit of classical architectural flair, resulting in a blend that looked somewhat like the eclectic, dignified style of the Republic of China era, when Western influences first met Eastern traditions.

The estate was over fifty years old and had been renovated many times, but from the outside, one could still see the slight traces of history left by the wind and rain. History has always been the best decoration for a wealthy and powerful family.

But once inside the house, it was a different story.

Gu Shuge followed Shen Juan into the living room. She hadn’t been back in the country for two years, but she didn’t feel the slightest bit of strangeness; everything here was exactly as it had been when she left.

The furnishings in the living room were simple and grand. The position of the sofa, the placement of the coffee table, a vase, a painting—every small item seemed to have been uniquely designed and placed unerringly in its best position. It shared the same tone as the house itself, forming the kind of sophistication and refinement found only in old-money families.

Yet within this sophistication, there was no sense of being high-and-mighty; instead, it felt warm and simple.

On the east wall hung a photograph—a view of a sea of clouds taken from a mountaintop. In the vast, endless white, the peaks of towering mountains poked through like small clusters of tips, resembling isolated islands in an ocean. The mist swirled in delicate threads, ethereal and otherworldly, looking just like a fairyland.

This was a photo she had taken. She had snapped it on a whim, but it captured a rare, beautiful mood. No matter how many times she tried to frame an angle specifically after that, she could never replicate it.

Shen Juan had developed the photo and hung it on the wall. After all these years, she had never taken it down.

Underneath an expensive armchair, there used to be a hole. She had dug it into the floor as a child, mimicking the way criminals hid things in detective novels. Inside the hole, she had placed the little red paper flowers she won in kindergarten.

Later, the hole was discovered. Her father had someone repair the floor and then placed a sofa over it to prevent her from causing more damage.

Since then, although she hadn’t dug any more holes in the floor, that method of hiding things from the novels had left a deep impression on her. So much so that even as she grew older, she still wanted to hide her most important things in a place where absolutely no one would find them, turning them into an eternal secret.

This was the place where she grew up, and it was filled with countless traces of her life. Gu Shuge felt that every corner was worth reminiscing over.

After entering the house, Shen Juan sat down on the sofa.

Gu Shuge looked around the room and then floated over to sit opposite her.

What is she thinking? Gu Shuge wondered, watching Shen Juan.

But she didn’t look for long. She quickly looked away, bowing her head and staring at the floor in front of her. Yet Shen Juan’s features became vivid in her mind—the eyes, the nose, the mouth, every detail clear, yet carrying a hint of strangeness and distance.

It’s probably because I haven’t looked at her properly or spoken to her in too long, Gu Shuge thought dejectedly. Even though they were the closest people in the world, she didn’t even dare to steal a long-distance glance.

They sat opposite each other like that.

Outside, the sky turned dark, but the lights in the living room weren’t turned on.

The garden path lights were automatic and turned on right on schedule. The light from outside reflected into the living room, leaving half of Shen Juan’s face in darkness and the other half in light.

No one came to disturb them. The surroundings were so quiet it felt as if time had stopped. They could stay in this half-light, half-darkness forever.

It was a relatively safe state.

Thus, Gu Shuge finally had time to properly explore her current condition.

She raised her hand and tentatively placed her palm against the surface of the sofa. As expected, her hand passed right through. However, she was currently in a “sitting” state on the sofa, and her body hadn’t sunk into it completely.

She could perform the action of “sitting.”

Gu Shuge sensed her condition more closely. She found that her current way of sitting was different from a human’s.

When she was a human and sat down, she would feel a solid object beneath her supporting her weight, allowing her to form a sitting posture. But now, she felt like she was floating. She couldn’t feel the existence of the sofa, yet she could maintain a sitting posture pressed tight against the surface, hovering just above it.

It was quite miraculous.