Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 13

Bian Chengyi’s hand paused as she wiped the blackboard.

There was something so openly biased in that offer—it was hard not to be moved. She smiled, a breeze under a clear moon, turned around, and nodded at her.
“Alright.”

Hua You, having received a clear response, was just as happy. She leaned over the podium, waiting for Bian Chengyi, and poked at her own cheek where the fruit candy bulged under her skin, bored but content.

Once their classroom duties were done, there were still more than two hours until the dorm lights-out at midnight. Neither Hua You nor Bian Chengyi returned to the dorm. With a quiet mutual understanding, they headed toward the library.

The library stayed open until 11:45 p.m., and many students came here for self-study after evening class. Of course, more still chose to study in their dorms where it was more relaxed. The library’s second floor had discussion rooms for group study. Entry required a student card, no reservations—just a bit of luck to find an empty spot.

They walked side by side on the way there.

Hua You thought about whether or not she should link arms—it didn’t feel right either way. Bian Chengyi stayed half a step beside her, a fist’s distance away, her breathing steady. The scent of sea breeze clung to her, somehow drifting into Hua You’s bones. That faint allure left Hua You unsure of what to do with her hands.

Then, Bian Chengyi suddenly stopped.

She had tied her hair in a low ponytail today, held in place by a hair tie decorated with a little gray cat. Her side bangs had grown long, nearly poking into her eyes. Under the soft streetlight, she turned her head slightly to look at Hua You and quietly raised her hand—saying nothing, just watching her.

Hua You froze for a second before she finally got it—and slipped her arm through hers.

So they continued forward, arms linked, like a pair of close friends bonded by something unspoken, backpacks on their backs, heading toward the library.

After greeting the teacher at the front desk, Bian Chengyi led Hua You to the second floor. She pulled out her student card from her pocket with practiced ease to open the self-study room door. Naturally, it was her credits that paid for it, and she didn’t seem to have any intention of asking Hua You to split the cost.

Instead, she asked, “Will this affect your rest?”

“Not at all!” Hua You shook her head quickly, like a bobblehead.

Bian Chengyi smiled. “Good.”

They returned to the math paper from the weekly test. Hua You began explaining new problem-solving strategies and techniques:
“When you see a question like this with such obvious prompts, the first thing you should think of is this method…”

When Bian Chengyi studied, there was a kind of aura about her—like the world’s chaos and drama no longer mattered. It was just her and what she had to learn. That focused intensity, combined with her appearance, was enough to make more than a few people fall for her.

She wore thin, gold-rimmed glasses, occasionally twirling a pen. She didn’t speak much—just nodded now and then to show she understood.

Just as Hua You was about to tackle the final question, she turned to draw a diagram on the whiteboard using a marker—when she heard a sudden rustling behind her.

Bian Chengyi had stopped taking notes. She was rummaging through her bag, slowly at first so as not to disrupt Hua You’s explanation, but then more urgently. She dumped everything out onto the desk. Some things even fell to the floor. Her eyes were sharp, almost aggressive—completely unlike her usual self.

Hua You walked over and squatted beside her. “What’s wrong? Can’t find something?”

“Leave,” Bian Chengyi said, her voice trembling slightly. “If you have even the slightest knowledge of biology, you should know that staying close to me right now is the worst idea.”

That sea-salt scent around her was getting heavier, and Hua You had a creeping suspicion.

Could it be… that Bian Chengyi was entering her Alpha sensitivity period?

Of course Hua You wouldn’t just leave for her own safety—that would mean abandoning her mission of winning Bian Chengyi over. But seeing Bian Chengyi’s reddening eyes, she did feel slightly at a loss.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage.
“Sister Bian, is there anything I can do to help?”

Bian Chengyi, barely clinging to reason, finally found a small medicine bottle amidst the mess. Her breathing was shallow.

“Ask the teacher at the front desk for a cup of hot water,” she said. “Then… just leave me alone.”

Tomorrow it would pass.

Everything would be back to normal.

Bian Chengyi’s sensitivity period was… a little different.

Most Alphas went through it normally—at worst, it led to a few harmless, awkward incidents.

Her sensitivity period came not just with overwhelming pain—but with a devastating urge to destroy.

That was why, throughout her past life, Bian Chengyi had always kept a respectful distance from anything resembling love or marriage.

Other people’s driving force was love. Was protection.

Hers was hatred. Was destruction.

The more she liked someone, the more obsessive she became. The more obsessive she became, the more she wanted to ruin it all—then claim whatever was left as hers and hers alone.

She had always worn a convincing mask. Since middle school, she’d turned down every love letter with the same excuse: she was focusing on her studies. Even her mother simply assumed she got a little irritable during her sensitivity periods. Less obedient, sure—but that was normal. Nothing to worry about.

Bian Chengyi always timed her sensitivity periods precisely. She would request a short leave, find somewhere isolated, take her meds, and endure the pain.

It was a pain that tore her world apart—like every bone in her body was being crushed, like her skin was being bound in iron chains. Every time she came out of it, it felt like her flesh had been reborn from the inside out.

She had, at one point, secretly seen doctors—both medical and psychological. The physical doctors found nothing wrong. The therapists offered suggestions that bordered on inhumane.

“If nothing else works,” they said, “you might have to relieve the pain… by passing it on to someone else.”

In short—if someone else felt what she did, she might start to feel better.

…Forget it.

Bian Chengyi had learned to live with pain.

Her mother’s scolding from childhood, the torment of her own body, the sting of careless gossip, and the quiet, disappointed sighs of certain teachers—all of it hurt.

And eventually… she got used to it. Sometimes, she even craved it.

All she wanted now was for no one—ever—to find out.

Especially not… you.

She placed the pill on her tongue, bitter taste spreading instantly. Drenched in sweat, she slumped over the desk, barely lifting her head. She watched Hua You’s retreating figure, unable even to summon the strength—or courage—to lock the door behind her.

Please… don’t come back.

…

But will you?

“Sister Bian! I brought the water—drink it quickly!”

The door clicked shut as Hua You rushed in, unbothered by the tension in the air. The sweet scent of blooming peach blossoms that always followed her instantly cut through the bitterness, mingling with the sea breeze in the room to form something strangely intoxicating.

Bian Chengyi took a shallow breath—and felt like she was suffocating.

She hadn’t timed it right this time. Most likely, it was due to the aftereffects of that temporary marking last time. Bian Chengyi sighed inwardly. In a way, it was starting to feel like Hua You was her fate—her destined calamity.

Grief and longing—bound and entangled. A disaster written in her stars.

“You forgot,” Bian Chengyi rasped, as Hua You helped her up and offered the cup of water. “I told you to leave.”

Her entire body was soaked, like she’d just been pulled from a lake. Her hands were ice-cold, but her forehead was burning hot.

Hua You looked at her with visible worry.
“Sister Bian, how could I possibly leave you alone like this? Besides… in your condition, how would you even make it back?”

“It’ll pass in a little while.” Bian Chengyi’s voice was weary to the point of collapse. “By tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.”

“Is an Alpha’s sensitivity period really this terrifying?” Hua You frowned, looking at Bian Chengyi in her current state. Having never gone through her own special period, she even felt a little afraid.
“Sister Bian, I’ll stay with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Bian Chengyi’s voice was low. Her eyes, hidden behind her bangs, made it hard to read her expression.

Even if you knew the real me—all of me… would you still be able to say that?

“Huh? Of course I’m sure,” Hua You answered firmly. “There’s that saying—‘a true friend would take a knife for you.’ And this isn’t even that! I’m just getting you hot water and cracking a few jokes—easy stuff. Here, I’ll tell you a penguin joke…”

“No need. Just stay quiet.”

Bian Chengyi lifted her head slightly after speaking. The whites of her eyes were almost entirely streaked with bl00d. Her peach blossom-shaped eyes shimmered, like tears could fall at any second.

But she wasn’t someone who showed weakness.

She simply gestured. “Come here.”

Hua You didn’t even think. She stepped forward and stood right in front of Bian Chengyi, nervous, anxious, staring straight at her.

“I’ll ask you one last time.” Bian Chengyi let out a long, shaky breath. “Are you sure you won’t let me deal with this on my own? You’re really choosing to help me?”

Hua You nodded, a hint of reproach in her eyes.
“How could I let a good friend go through this alone? I’ll stay right here and—”

Before she could finish, Bian Chengyi suddenly wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned her head gently against her.

What Hua You didn’t see was that behind her back, Bian Chengyi had dug her fingernails into her palm so hard they were drawing bl00d. Her face, however, remained calm, serene.

“When I was little and had a fever,” Bian Chengyi said softly, “my mom would only ever say, ‘Get over it. When it’s over, go finish your homework.’”

“I always did take my homework seriously…”

Her voice grew lighter and lighter as her head rested against Hua You’s waist, her whole body quietly surrendering itself to the comfort of another.

All I’ve ever wanted… was just a hug.

More than pain relief, more than escape—she would rather let herself be consumed by the agony… if it meant one minute of warmth.

Hua You gently stroked the crown of her head. Bian Chengyi trembled slightly and let out a long breath. A single tear slid down her cheek. The wound on her palm began to bleed again, and as she rubbed at it absentmindedly, the bl00d smeared and spread further.

“I was sick when I was little too,” Hua You said suddenly.

Half-drawing from her character’s backstory, half from her own memories, she spoke to Bian Chengyi with a quiet blend of truth and fiction:

“We didn’t have money at home. When I got sick, I was too scared to say anything. I held it in. Endured it in silence.”

“My fever when I differentiated was especially brutal. And wouldn’t you know it—my family was at its poorest right then. I remember thinking… if I could just die by morning, maybe I wouldn’t have to feel it anymore.”

“What happened next?” Bian Chengyi asked, voice barely audible.

“Next?” Hua You smoothed the hair at the back of her head, fingertips light and steady.
“I woke up the next day and realized—I still wanted to live.”

“Even in pain, I wanted to live. Even when being scolded, I wanted to live. Even when it hurt like hell, I wanted to live.”

“Living is my most instinctive desire.”

“And I choose to submit to that instinct… and let go of anyone not worth holding on to.”