Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 10

Her name, too, came from Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River, the same lines as Bian Chengyi’s.

Seriously… how punch-worthy.

Hua You looked at Bian Chengyi with a bright, teasing smile. That one look made Bian Chengyi immediately abandon her plan to turn and leave, to end this little “debate” once and for all.

Instead—almost like something possessed her—she reached out and…

Pinched Hua You’s round little cheeks.

Hua You froze, caught between resisting and surrendering—clearly flustered but not quite fighting back.

Too close.

Hua You could even smell the faint scent of Bian Chengyi’s pheromones on her fingertips, sinking into her bones. It felt like she was submerged in a vast black sea, wrapped in warmth and pressure, barely able to breathe.

It almost felt like… she was being completely enveloped by Bian Chengyi’s scent. It coiled around her, tightening gradually, until her breath nearly caught in her throat.

Thankfully, Bian Chengyi seemed to realize her slip. She quickly withdrew her hand.

She glanced at the faint red marks left on Hua You’s cheek. A flicker of guilt stirred in her chest, though none of it showed on her face. To make up for it, she cleared her throat softly and let her gaze fall on the spot where the cat had been.

“What’s the name then?” she asked, half to herself.

With that, she tossed the naming rights back to Hua You. Obviously, those earlier joke-names they used to tease each other were off the table now.

Hua You thought for a second.
“Let’s call it… Wu An.”

“Wu An?” Bian Chengyi echoed, the words slipping easily from her mouth.
“From the line ‘hua ming wu an fei hua wu’? That poem?”

Hua You smiled, pleased. “Exactly. ‘Hua’ from your name, ‘Ming’ from mine. Wu An. It’s perfect.”

Bian Chengyi paused a moment, then nodded. “It fits. That cat really was covered in a misty gray. Probably hasn’t had a bath in ages.”

The task progress bar climbed to 35%. Hua You could barely contain her excitement. Her grin was wide as she added,
“It’s fine. Even all dusty like that, it’s still super cute.”

Bian Chengyi’s lips curved slightly, as if to acknowledge that opinion.

Then suddenly, Hua You seemed to remember something. She looked at Bian Chengyi with a touch of mock grievance:
“Why didn’t you wait for me to go to the cafeteria today?”

Bian Chengyi thought to herself: Did we ever actually agree to always eat lunch together?

Hua You blinked her big eyes at her, wide and expectant.

Bian Chengyi: …Fine. Let’s say we did.

She coughed lightly and handed Hua You the bag of bread she was holding.

Hua You blinked: “Huh?”

Bian Chengyi said,
“New flavor today. Splitting it with you.”
Then, with meaning in her voice, she added:
“My treat.”

Hua You, only half convinced, took the bread bag hesitantly.

“Sister Bian, this is really for me?” she asked again, just to be sure.

Bian Chengyi didn’t blink. “Yours—half of it. The cream half is mine.”

“You like cream bread?” Hua You asked as Bian Chengyi started walking. She quickly followed.

But in Bian Chengyi’s mind, a completely unrelated image popped up—

Hua You taking a bite of the cream bun, cheeks puffed out, a dab of cream stuck at the corner of her lips. She’d look into the mirror, then stick out her tongue to lick it off, savoring the sweetness… and then she’d smile—that smile, her signature bright, radiant, irresistible one.

And in that moment—

Bian Chengyi felt an urge.

A wild, inexplicable urge—

To lean down and kiss the cream off. Slowly. Gently.

What the hell. When is this damn pheromone effect going to wear off?!

This wasn’t just risking Hua You not hating her anymore—at this rate, if it weren’t for the fact that they shared the same primary gender, she’d probably already be the subject of a sexual harassment complaint in the principal’s inbox.

Bian Chengyi came to a sudden stop. The abrupt halt caused Hua You, who was trailing closely behind, to bump right into her back.

Before Hua You could even ask what was going on, Bian Chengyi turned around and declared, with a tone that left no room for negotiation:

“The cream bun is mine. Got it?”

Hua You blinked.
Uh… what?

Was she… that obsessed with cream???

With a head full of question marks, Hua You followed her back to the classroom.

Bian Chengyi returned to her seat. Meanwhile, Hua You stood for a second, then walked to the back of the room, trying to drag a desk forward.

“Too much trouble,” Bian Chengyi said casually. Then, without much ceremony, she pulled over her deskmate Fang Jinyu’s chair.
“Stop torturing your arms. Just come sit here.”

Hua You didn’t argue. She sat down in Fang Jinyu’s seat without hesitation and scooted over next to Bian Chengyi, looking entirely expectant—like she naturally belonged there, waiting to be handed her share of bread.

Bian Chengyi: …Next time, I really need to buy more food.

What she had bought was meant for one person—sharing it between two inevitably made things feel a bit stingy. Fortunately, she had bought enough for both lunch and dinner, so the portions just barely managed to fill them up.

Still, by the end of it, Bian Chengyi couldn’t help but feel a bit… disappointed in herself.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, almost out of nowhere.

Just before leaving, she glanced at Hua You for one second.

It only took that one glance for Hua You to catch on. She jumped up instantly.
“I’m coming too, Sister Bian!”

And just like that, they walked to the bathroom side by side again.

On the way, their homeroom teacher Ms. Xu happened to be heading to lunch with a few other female teachers. Spotting the two of them together, she looked as if she’d just stumbled upon some major campus gossip.

“Oh? I know Chengyi doesn’t usually eat lunch, but Hua You, you skipped it too?”

Hua You smiled and replied cheerfully:
“Changed it up. Trying a new flavor.”

She had, hilariously, borrowed Bian Chengyi’s earlier excuse.

Bian Chengyi: …Really now.

The bathroom faucet water was icy cold. Bian Chengyi shook her hands dry over the sink, then wandered near the door, pacing a little. After a long hesitation, she still didn’t call out,
“Hua You, are you still in there?”

Did she leave already? That fast? Or was she just not done yet?

Just as she was overthinking it, Hua You finally emerged.

Well, since she was already waiting, Bian Chengyi decided to wait openly and without shame.

Before she could say anything, though, Hua You stepped forward, looking pale and a bit sheepish.
“Sister Bian… I think I forgot something.”

Bian Chengyi instantly understood.

Hua You had a talent—a completely natural, almost spiritual ability—for wasting Bian Chengyi’s time. As she walked back to get the forgotten item, Bian Chengyi reflected on this. And yet… it was like she was under a spell. She didn’t mind wasting time for her. Whether it was sharing a lunch break or stopping to stare at a cat—it all chipped away at moments a senior year student should be conserving like gold.

Hua You was slowly seeping into all the little spaces of her daily routine.

And strangely… Bian Chengyi didn’t feel irritated. In fact, sometimes, when she was buried in homework and happened to look up to see Hua You there, she no longer frowned.

Instead, she would simply gaze at her—like looking at a spilled bucket of paint, flooding her black-and-white world with color.

Just like now.

She lifted her head from a chemistry book. Hua You was staring out the window at a pruned peach blossom branch. Her side profile was delicate and soft.

Hua You had barely touched her lunch, distracted by the view. Sensing the weight of Bian Chengyi’s gaze, she finally turned around—smiling bright as the blossoms outside in March sunlight.
“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Bian Chengyi said as she lowered her head and took another bite of the cream bun.

Sweet.

By now, even their classmates had stopped being surprised that Bian Chengyi and Hua You could coexist peacefully. Everyone in Grade 12 was too focused on their own circle to care much. Those closer to the class monitor would nod and say “Class Rep,” while others would call out “Hua Hua,” and then go back to their own business. No one had time to study chemistry notes, let alone keep up with gossip. For all they knew, those two might be sworn enemies again tomorrow.

Maybe worried that Fang Jinyu would be back soon, Hua You jumped up before even finishing her bread, pushed the chair back into place, and naturally patted Bian Chengyi on the shoulder.
“I’m heading back.”

Bian Chengyi didn’t look up from her book. She simply gave a small nod, acknowledging it.

By the afternoon, after four more subject tests, the sky was beginning to darken. The students who were allowed to go home couldn’t wait to dash back to the dorms, pack their things, and head out for the weekend.

Hua You was no exception—she knew the original Hua You would’ve gone home. After saying goodbye to her three roommates, she left the school gate and started walking in the direction of home.

Though her house was just a fifteen-minute walk from school, the campus followed a strict boarding policy to maintain academic discipline and efficiency.

As soon as she opened the door, the clattering sound of a spatula came from the kitchen. Her Omega father stepped out, bringing a dish to the table and untying his apron.
“You’re back, little Hua Hua.”
That nickname—soft and affectionate—fell naturally from his lips.

Hua You felt a pang of something close to envy.

The feeling of being thought of.

The original Hua You had always seen it as a burden—a shackle. She would argue constantly with her O-father, simply because he wouldn’t let her skip school to travel. But to this Hua You, being cared about—having someone worry about her health and her future—was something rare. Something deeply precious.

At least in her real life, no one had cared.

Her academic achievements were the only reason a few relatives were willing to “invest” in her—always expecting a return. If she had slipped even slightly, they would have cast her off without hesitation.

Hua You responded with a casual “Yeah, I’m back.” She didn’t go out of her way to act overly affectionate—it would’ve felt out of character and raised her O-father’s suspicions.

During dinner, when her father gave his usual dose of life lectures, she stayed mostly quiet—offering the occasional “mm” or nod, instead of slamming chopsticks or slamming the door like the original did in the novel.

Still, her O-father noticed something different.
“What’s wrong, little Hua Hua? Why so quiet today?”

Hua You waved a hand.
“Six exams. I’m just drained.”

“Sigh… I know your grades…” Her father began to launch into one of his signature long-winded rants. “Well, whatever. As long as you’re improving, that’s all that matters. I don’t need you to be top of the class like Fang Jinyu. Even if you just found yourself an Alpha like Fang Huai, I’d be able to rest easy.”

Hua You nearly choked on her soup.
Seriously? An ABO world and we’re doing marriage talk already?!

No wonder the original Hua You resented people like Fang Jinyu—there was more than just jealousy. There was rebellion, too. Fang Jinyu was her father’s idea of “the other kid.” How could she not hate her?

Her father kept going:
“I’ve looked at your whole class. Your class monitor’s really something. A shame, though—such a good student, pretty too, but so sickly…”

“She’s not sickly,” Hua You mumbled under her breath.

“I saw her at the parent-teacher meeting. That pale face, white as snow,” he said, clearly concerned. “That girl’s definitely not eating right. If she had a parent like me, no way I’d let her go hungry like that.”

Hua You bit into a chicken drumstick and—for once—didn’t argue.

After dinner, Hua You lay in bed, content and curled up, reading a fresh new webnovel from this world.

Then—

Her bedroom door creaked open. Her father stepped inside, clearly hesitant, like he wasn’t sure whether to speak.

“What is it?” Hua You quickly hid her phone and acted like she was just getting ready to sleep.

Her O-father stood in silence for a moment before finally speaking up:

“I think your uniform smells a bit like someone else’s pheromones…”

He hesitated again. Then softly asked:

“You… haven’t been bullied at school, have you?”