Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 1

It was early March, and though spring had just arrived, the world outside the window remained calm and gentle. Yet inside the classroom, the wind had begun to stir.

Whispers and curious stares surged in like a wave, crashing directly over Hua You. And at the center of the storm — the eye — everything was still. It was as if she had been cut off from the rest of the world, leaving only herself and the blank math test in her hand. Absentmindedly, she started rubbing a corner of the paper, feeling like she might be swept into the air by a tornado at any second.

Bian Chengyi stood beside her desk, collecting papers. She reached out a hand.

That hand was fair and slender, with distinct knuckles and neat, rounded nails. Only her index finger bore a visible callus — the mark of a diligent student. Hua You stared at it, and, before she could think, her own hand moved and clasped it.

Bian Chengyi: “?”

Hua You (to herself): The system’s going to make you bite me within the hour anyway. Holding hands first isn’t too much, right?

Without a word, Bian Chengyi quietly withdrew her hand and spoke in a soft, gentle voice:
“Hua You, you’re the only one who hasn’t handed in the corrected math test.”

Around them, the other students continued with their own work or conversations. Only a few glanced over — some anticipating Bian Chengyi’s embarrassment, thinking Hua You would lash out; others hoping to see Hua You humiliated, wondering if she’d humble herself and beg Bian Chengyi to overlook her negligence.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows. Hua You tilted her head slightly, and her petal-like face was gilded with a soft, golden glow. It gave her an air of innocence and sweetness. Standing in that golden haze, she gave an embarrassed smile, as if parting a sea of light within the eye of the storm.
“Class Rep, I had a stomachache yesterday… I didn’t get to it.”

Bian Chengyi paused for a brief second, then gave a refined nod — calm and restrained — as if to say she understood. She turned, ready to leave.

But just as she was about to go, Hua You tugged gently at the hem of her uniform.

Even someone as composed as Bian Chengyi found this odd. After all, Hua You had plenty of close friends she could have gone to — why, of all people, would she choose to grab the clothes of her usual rival?

“Class Rep, my stomach hurts now too… Can you take me to the infirmary?”

The entire class was stunned. They thought Hua You must be pulling another strange stunt to mess with Bian Chengyi. Even Bian herself suspected as much. But she was the type to walk willingly into difficult situations without complaint — always looking for a way to break the deadlock.

She extended that elegant hand once more, as if all the silent tension and tangled past between her and Hua You had turned to dust and fallen away.

“Come with me.”

At that moment, Hua You didn’t care what Bian Chengyi was actually thinking.

What she was sure of was this: Bian Chengyi would never abandon her responsibilities as class rep in front of everyone, nor would she risk publicly falling out with a classmate. Based on her knowledge of the novel, Bian Chengyi would rather die than ruin her image. That reputation — that title of “Class Rep Xishi” — was both her lifelong pride and her unshakable burden.

Yes. Class Rep Xishi.

The novel had never skimped on descriptions of this No.1 supporting character’s appearance. Bian Chengyi was stunningly beautiful — her complexion pale from years of poor health, her palm-sized face delicate and fragile like a sickly beauty from ancient times. That was where her nickname came from.

Though she was an ALPHA, she didn’t show it in her looks — it was her sheer willpower that defined her.

Take this, for example: she could never outperform the male lead, Fang Huai, in math — so she worked ten times harder, only to become the foil that made his brilliance shine brighter.
Or this: she had known the female lead, Fang Jinyu — an OMEGA — before anyone else, but their relationship never went beyond friendship. She could only watch as Fang Jinyu grew closer and closer to the male lead, and she never made another move to pursue her.

Yes, this was a romance novel — an ABO school romance that Hua You had stumbled across by accident. There were no grand twists, no villainous schemes, no deep philosophical themes. It was simple. Warm. Gentle.

And now she had transmigrated into the body of a minor side character with the same name — more accurately, the novel’s one and only true antagonist.

In the original story, this version of Hua You was well-liked in class but terrible academically. She was unruly, disliked homework, dismissed teachers and class leaders, and especially didn’t get along with the top-ranked OMEGA heroine, Fang Jinyu. She believed good grades were the only thing such people had going for them — and that made her despise Bian Chengyi too, just by association.

Every time she passed by Bian Chengyi, she’d look away deliberately, pretending she didn’t see her. Sometimes, she’d even scoff with her friends:
“So what if she’s close with Fang Jinyu? I’ve never seen this ‘Class Rep Xishi’ show an ounce of her math genius. Always third place — just good enough to keep a fancy title.”

But Hua You’s ending in the novel wasn’t a good one either. On the eve of the college entrance exams, she skipped school to join an unsanctioned group trip. When she was found out, her O-gender father lashed out in the office, leaving one side of her face bloodied by his long fingernails. Her name, Hua You, seemed prophetic — a flower, destined for sorrow.

Hua You had always been a spirited girl. After the incident, she gave up on the exams entirely. She didn’t even get her high school diploma before running away a second time. In the end, it was said she fell from a mountain during a night hike and never woke up again — a typical tragic end for a villain.

Still, the real Hua You couldn’t help but feel that the ending was a little too cruel when she first read it.

Bian Chengyi once commented on the novel’s version of Hua You after hearing news of her death:

“Some souls weren’t made to be caged by school walls. They’re born as wild hawks, meant to soar the skies. Forcing a hawk to embroider flowers? Sooner or later, it’ll lash out. She thrived on chaos, welcomed hatred, and clapped when people’s emotions exploded.”
“As for me,” she continued, “I’m just a puddle of delicate, stagnant water — sometimes pretending to be the moon or a mirror. But get closer, and you’ll see the filth beneath. All I’ve ever been is a decoration — not even truly alive.”

She had said this in a heart-to-heart with the heroine before leaving for a faraway university after failing her college entrance exam. It was a rare moment of vulnerability — comparing herself to Hua You. After that, the novel gave Bian Chengyi no more scenes. Only a passing line suggested that the heroine tried to contact her later, but all she received was a letter — the implication was obvious.

Now, the story had reached about a third of its way through. They were in their final year of high school — peak stress season. Even the most carefree students were frantically cramming. And for someone like Bian Chengyi, the model student, spending even half her lunch break walking Hua You to the infirmary was a major sacrifice. Hua You could already imagine her calculating the number of English words she could’ve memorized or the math mistakes she could’ve reviewed in that time.

Yes, walking her to the infirmary was practically a monumental act of generosity.

The infirmary was far. Bian Chengyi pulled Hua You close by the waist and led her down the hall.

Once they left the classroom and turned a few corners, the crowd thinned out until no one was around. Bian Chengyi loosened her grip slightly — but just then, Hua You leaned into her, even flashing her a smile.

Bian Chengyi had already been shaken enough by Hua You today — what was one more surprise?

When no one was around, her expression turned cool and composed. Even her soft-spoken words carried an undercurrent of coldness:
“What’s wrong with you?”

Hua You put on a pained expression.

She panted slightly, then said with a hint of shy vulnerability,
“Class Rep… I don’t think it’s a stomachache.”

Her brows furrowed delicately, her expression full of helpless discomfort.
“Can you bite me? Please?”

System: ??? Didn’t you say you had social anxiety before I picked you? You seem to be doing just fine.

Though Hua You and Bian Chengyi were different secondary genders, they shared the same primary one — so Bian Chengyi immediately understood what she meant.

So that’s what it was.

Though they’d never gotten along, Bian Chengyi wasn’t the type to make things difficult in such a situation. In fact, a vague sense of ALPHA responsibility stirred within her. She looked around, and without hesitation, helped Hua You into a vacant restroom.

After closing the door, she confirmed again,
“Are you sure? A temporary mark can last two or three days.”

Hua You nodded. In her heart, she thought: Even if the mark lasted a lifetime, it’d be worth it to complete the mission.

It was probably going to be a permanent mark.

As Hua You’s thoughts wandered, Bian Chengyi had already pressed her up against the sink. She was just slightly taller — tall enough to lean in and reach the sensitive spot on the back of Hua You’s neck.

By now, the scent of peach blossoms clinging to Hua You had filled the entire restroom.

Caught in the heady aroma, Bian Chengyi instinctively reached for her hand and gently kneaded her fingers a few times.

“Relax.”

Before she even finished speaking, Bian Chengyi leaned down and bit.

It was painfully obvious that Hua You had been faking it — she’d merely released her pheromones on purpose. So instead of feeling soothed, she was hit with a sharp wave of pain. She winced, baring her teeth involuntarily. Unfortunately, the mirror above the sink caught every bit of her expression, and the double blow — both physical and emotional — had her on the verge of tears.

“Did it… hurt that much?”

Bian Chengyi looked a little bewildered as she let go. Based on her years of reading novels, she was sure this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Weren’t OMEGAs usually supposed to…

Stop. Stop right there.
Hua You’s voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts:
“You can head back to class first. I’ll go to the infirmary on my own — it’s probably nothing serious.”

There was no way she could let Bian Chengyi tag along any further. If the school nurse explained what had really happened, it definitely wouldn’t be something she could brush off with a few words.

Bian Chengyi’s expression cooled again, slipping back into her usual detached demeanor — just a class rep helping a classmate, nothing more. But clearly, she hadn’t fully shaken off the image of Hua You’s pained expression just now. She stood there for a moment, unsure whether to leave or stay.

Hua You waved her off with a grin.
“If you really feel bad about it, just cover for me on the math homework, alright?”

Bian Chengyi pressed her lips together and said nothing more. She turned on her heel and walked away.

Hua You stayed in the restroom alone for quite a while, resting until she could finally manage to stand and lean against the wall to make her way back. She hadn’t even had time to answer her deskmate’s worried questions before Bian Chengyi reappeared in front of her, eyebrows slightly raised as she looked down at her.

By this point, the entire class was stunned.

First, the two famously-at-odds beauties had walked out of the classroom together — supporting each other, no less. And now Bian Chengyi was actually following up and checking in on her? What was going on? Was the world turning upside down?

Before Hua You could even say a word, her deskmate Qin Jing stepped forward protectively, eyeing Bian Chengyi with suspicion.
“We don’t need your concern. I just wasn’t here earlier — otherwise, there’s no way we would’ve let you be the one to take Hua Hua…”

“Mr. Xu said that if your math test isn’t done, you’ll have to finish it in her office.”
Bian Chengyi’s voice was cool and steady — not too loud, not too soft, but just right for everyone nearby to hear.

After she finished speaking, she turned and walked away with perfect poise — only to pause, glance back, and add:

“Oh, and by the way — Ms. Xu has a meeting. I’m going with you to the office… to supervise your work.”