A Secret (GL) - Chapter 6

Gu Shuge loved candy as a child. Back then, English names were all the rage. Her mother said that based on her sweet tooth, they could give her a complete set of names: her nickname would be Gu Tiantian (Gu Sweetie), her formal name Gu Shuge, and her English name Sugar.

Because the set was a bit too casual, her father protested, and only the formal name Gu Shuge was kept. But in her innocent childhood, Gu Shuge actually thought “Gu Tiantian” sounded quite nice—it made her sound like she was delicious.

The sweetness of sugar did not carry through her entire childhood. When she was eight, her parents died in a plane crash, and the pillar of the Gu family collapsed overnight. Gu Yian, as the eldest son, was forced to grow up instantly to face a pack of greedy uncles and relatives.

Even now, Gu Shuge often thought that if not for Shen Juan, if it had just been her and Gu Yian, life would have been much harder.

Shen Juan was the child of an old family friend. She had been with the Gu family since Gu Shuge was born. Her own parents had passed away from illness, and her family estate had been torn apart by relatives, leaving her an orphan. Gu Shuge’s father brought her home and raised her as his own daughter.

She and Gu Yian were the same age; Gu Shuge was seven years younger. From a young age, Shuge felt that Shen Juan was incredibly powerful. Gu Yian had inherited their father’s business talent and matured quickly, becoming capable of managing things within a few years. But Shen Juan was even better at social networking, handling business dealings with more ease than he did.

Because Shuge was young and knew nothing, Gu Yian had to spend a lot of energy looking after her. But he was a boy, after all, and there were things that were inconvenient for him to handle, so the responsibility of caring for her soon fell to Shen Juan.

Gu Shuge adored Shen Juan. She called her “Big Sister” as a child, then just “Sister” as she grew older. Even later, when Shen Juan married her brother, Shuge never changed how she addressed her.

Shen Juan never seemed to mind.

Gu Shuge always felt that Shen Juan had no bottom line when it came to her. She treated her exceptionally well—especially after Shuge turned sixteen. Shen Juan’s care was meticulous, covering every aspect of her life, and even the way she looked at her was extraordinarily gentle.

It went so far that Shuge developed a different kind of feeling, mistakenly believing that Shen Juan felt the same way about her.

That lasted until four years ago, when she was eighteen and accidentally overheard Gu Yian proposing to Shen Juan.

It was late September. She had just gotten into a local university and started her college life. Since home was close, she didn’t live in the dorms. That afternoon, she had made plans to have dinner with Shen Juan.

At eighteen, she was at the age where she cared most about her image. Even though they saw each other every day, she was still very careful about her words and actions in front of Shen Juan. From her outfits down to her earrings, she could spend half a day just picking a lipstick shade.

So that day, she skipped an afternoon of classes and went home early to change.

As she passed the study, she heard the voices of Gu Yian and Shen Juan coming from inside.

They were both busy people and usually weren’t home during the day on weekdays. She found it strange but didn’t think much of it, preparing to push the door open and give them a scare. But just as her hand touched the door, she heard her brother say with a smile, “Why don’t you just marry me?”

In that moment, Shuge felt the blood rush to her head. Her ears buzzed as if she had lost her hearing. Shen Juan’s voice came through clearly; she wasn’t laughing, but her tone was relaxed as she said, “Can you please take my troubles seriously?”

“I am being serious. I’ve considered this for a long time. You marry me, I marry you—it’s the best choice.”

“Yian…”

“We’re already family. Marrying me just makes the relationship closer. Nothing else will change. Think about it—do you feel any rejection toward me?”

Gu Shuge held her breath. Shen Juan didn’t answer immediately; she remained silent for a long time. With every second of that silence, Shuge’s heart turned cold, bit by bit, as if a block of ice had been embedded in her chest.

“I’ll think about it,” Shen Juan’s voice said, soft and gentle.

“Then think it over. Tell me as soon as you have an answer. I’ll be the one to tell Xiaoge.” Her brother’s voice was full of joy, as if he was already certain of Shen Juan’s answer.

The sound of a chair moving followed. Gu Shuge instinctively hid, slipping into the adjacent room. The footsteps outside were clear. Gu Yian left, but Shen Juan stayed in the study.

Gu Shuge leaned against the wall and slid slowly to the floor. Her mind was filled with their conversation. She took their words apart, piece by piece, replaying them in her mind along with their tones of voice. The final conclusion was that she had been wrong: Shen Juan did not feel for her what she had imagined.

She sat on the floor for an unknown amount of time. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out despondently. It was a WeChat message from Shen Juan.

Her heart gave a sharp prick of pain.

“Where are you? Is traffic bad?”

Gu Shuge stared at the screen for a long time. Finally, she typed a reply: “Something came up, I’m not coming back.”

There was movement in the next room. Footsteps passed the study door and grew distant. Shen Juan had gone out.

Gu Shuge used the wall to pull herself up. Her legs were numb, but she didn’t feel the pain. She went back to her room, took a shower, and lay on the bed. Her head felt heavy. She didn’t want to think about anything, but every instance of Shen Juan’s kindness stubbornly surfaced.

Shen Juan really was so good to her. The year her parents died, she was eight and Shen Juan was only fifteen, yet she took on the responsibility of caring for her. Gu Shuge blushed just thinking about how troublesome and willful an eight-year-old could be, but Shen Juan had never lost her temper or even said a harsh word to her.

Shen Juan had tutored her, attended her parent-teacher meetings, and seen her off to summer camp. When Shuge failed an exam, Shen Juan comforted her and explained every mistake. When she had conflicts with classmates, Shen Juan helped mediate and taught her how to reconcile without making anyone feel awkward.

She didn’t even know when those ignorant romantic feelings had begun to take root.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t struggled with it. After all, Shen Juan was such an outstanding person—she was the best at everything and so beautiful. Meanwhile, Shuge had just become an adult, still a student, and didn’t shine in any way.

But she thought that if Shen Juan liked her too, then the gap wouldn’t matter so much. After all, she was working hard; the distance could be closed.

She stared at the ceiling lamp. Night fell unnoticed, the bedroom submerged in darkness, with streetlight filtering through the curtains.

The phone rang.

She didn’t want to answer. The person on the other end seemed to sense her mood and tactfully hung up.

Gu Shuge turned her head and saw the photo frame on the nightstand. It was a photo of Shen Juan taken the year she graduated from university. She was in her academic gown, standing in front of the school library, her smile quiet and cultured. Looking into the lens, her eyes seemed to hold a spring of water—clear and gentle.

Shuge had taken that photo herself. After developing it, she placed it by her bed. She had taken many photos of Shen Juan—on her phone, on her camera—so many that a single album couldn’t hold them all. At first, Shen Juan would freeze for a second when she saw the lens, then smile at her. Later, she became used to it, simply giving her a gentle look and never stopping her.

It was likely this warm indulgence and pampering that had led her to misinterpret things.

After another long while, the phone rang again. This time, the person was persistent. Gu Shuge answered and put it to her ear. Shen Juan’s voice came through the receiver. As always, Shuge’s heart fluttered; just hearing her voice made her heart race.

“Xiaoge?” Shen Juan’s voice was accompanied by the sound of wind.

Shuge wondered where she was. Had she gone to the restaurant they had agreed upon? She had originally planned to confess to Shen Juan today.

Receiving no answer, Shen Juan called her name again.

Gu Shuge’s eyes instantly filled with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and let out a soft, “Mhm.”

Hearing her voice, Shen Juan’s tone relaxed. She asked with a smile, “Are you finished with your business? I’m waiting for you outside your school.”

Shuge’s throat tightened. She couldn’t speak; she was afraid she would sob the moment she opened her mouth. Her eyes stayed fixed on the photo by the bed, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. She tried her best to regulate her emotions, wanting to at least get through this call, but the tears only fell faster.

Shen Juan waited a moment, her voice laced with concern. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. Gu Shuge took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “I…” Her voice was nasal. After just one word, she knew Shen Juan must have noticed something was wrong. She bit her lip and continued, “I’m fine.”

Shen Juan didn’t speak immediately. After a short pause, she asked, “What’s wrong?” Her tone was gentle, showing none of the strength she displayed at the company.

Every time Shuge heard her voice, she felt a sense of sweetness. Even now, she still wanted to hear Shen Juan talk to her more. Feeling embarrassed, she found an excuse to brush it off: “I miss Mom and Dad.”

She didn’t know if Shen Juan believed her. Most likely not—she was too sharp and knew her too well. How could she not hear that Shuge was lying? But Shuge couldn’t worry about that anymore.

Having finished saying “happy birthday,” Gu Shuge looked away, not daring to look directly at Shen Juan anymore.

Four years ago, the solution she came up with was to leave. With distance and time, feelings usually fade. Four years later, she knew she hadn’t succeeded. Shen Juan had never held a wedding ceremony with her brother; they only registered the marriage. Two years ago, her brother was diagnosed with liver cancer. From discovery to death, it was only a week—so fast it caught everyone off guard.

Her brother’s inheritance should have all gone to Shen Juan as his spouse, but she didn’t take a cent. She transferred everything to Shuge’s name, keeping only half-ownership of the house.

There were two minutes left until midnight. Gu Shuge stood up. The most important thing now was how to let Shen Juan know about the “fatal calamity” she had encountered before. With two accidents combined, it was certain someone was plotting in the shadows. She didn’t know what the mastermind’s goal was. If it was just targeting her, that was one thing, but she feared Shen Juan would be dragged into it too.

Ways to communicate with ghosts that she had seen in books and movies flashed through her mind. She considered which ones were reliable enough to try.

Shen Juan stood up. There were still tear tracks on her face, and her eyes were desolate. She started walking toward the stairs.

Gu Shuge didn’t follow; she thought it was better for her to stay downstairs.

At the foot of the stairs, Shen Juan stopped. Confused, Gu Shuge looked over at her.

Shen Juan turned around. Her gaze looked straight in Shuge’s direction—straight into her eyes. Gu Shuge gasped.

Shen Juan stared toward her for a moment, then slowly walked over, stopping right in front of her. Gu Shuge’s entire ghostly form froze. She held her breath, not daring to move.

Shen Juan parted her lips slightly, just as she had called her name countless times before. She said:

“Xiaoge.”

Gu Shuge’s eyes widened. In that instant, she felt as if her physical body was about to be frightened right back into existence.