Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 16

“Yes, I mean your precious ‘Xiaoyu.’”

Hua You smiled. “Did you used to think… that I really disliked her?”

Bian Chengyi didn’t show much expression—but her silence made it perfectly clear that, yes, she had.

Hua You shrugged. “To be honest, I was just a little jealous of her.”

She turned, eyes bright and intense. “Jealous that she had the best love and friendship in the world.”

After all, Fang Jinyu was the protagonist of the story. And Hua You? Just a minor supporting character fated to fade into the background.

But that didn’t have to stay true forever. Hua You thought to herself: starting now, she was going to change everything. She beamed at Bian Chengyi, who looked vaguely moved. Though she might be a little like a scheming “black lotus,” she was also… quite cute.

“Come on, let’s head back to class.”

Senior year was monotonous and dull.

To Hua You, everyone in this pressure cooker of a school felt like caged beasts—tamed on the outside, but restless beneath the surface. The classroom was thick with the haze of sleepiness. When the bell rang, some rushed to their homework, others leaned in for hushed gossip. To her, this part of the story—the endless repetition—felt like filler that should’ve been skipped altogether.

Wednesday’s sports day, though, was a rare break from the routine.

In the original book, the male lead, Fang Huai, swept nearly every boys’ event. The sports day—oddly timed during senior year—seemed like a plot device to let the male lead shine.

When Bian Chengyi finished reading out all the sports day events from the podium during evening study, the class’s reaction was… underwhelming. Sign-ups were scarce. Most saw the event as an annoying interruption to their studies. Even though physical fitness now counted for 20 points on the college entrance exam, no one cared enough to take it seriously.

The boys’ events had a few sign-ups, at least. But when it came time for the girls…

Dead silence.

Hua You thought it was a kind of tragicomic high school drama. She noticed Bian Chengyi frown slightly, troubled by the lack of participation—and in that still silence, she raised her hand.

“What event are you signing up for?” Bian Chengyi wasn’t exactly surprised.

“The 1600 meters. And high jump,” Hua You said, right in the center of every curious gaze.

Bian Chengyi nodded and wrote her name down in the registration book. After Hua You, a few more girls followed, including her roommate, Lin Lingwan.

Wednesday arrived. The sports meet began.

Senior students skipped the opening march to save rehearsal time for better studying and rest. They sat in the stands, watching the underclassmen’s colorful entrances—some in cosplay, others in mascot costumes, all of them smiling bright and carefree.

Hua You greeted her roommates, then casually made her way down the steps and sat right next to Bian Chengyi with practiced ease. Bian Chengyi held a history notebook—not that she was alone in her diligence. Most of the students had study materials or homework in hand.

Hua You, of course, was the exception.

Pointing to a student dressed as a popular anime character, she asked, “Sister Chengyi, do you know who that is?”

Bian Chengyi shook her head, her tone carrying a faint wistfulness. “My family doesn’t let me watch stuff like that. They say it’ll distract me from my studies.”

Hua You smiled. “No problem. In the future, you can study at my house. We’ll study a bit, then take breaks to watch something.”

Bian Chengyi smiled lightly but didn’t respond.

Sensing the tension in the topic of family, Hua You switched gears and pointed at the mascot costume. “Haha, look! Isn’t that the mascot from that amusement park we went to? It’s a giant bamboo! So cute!”

Bian Chengyi looked a little helpless. “Of course I know it’s bamboo. A giant bamboo.”

Noticing that her comment had slightly dampened Hua You’s excitement, Bian Chengyi did something she never thought she’d do—she tried to make up for it.

“If you want to hug it and take a photo, I can ask one of the organizers for you,” she offered.

“Really?” Hua You’s eyes lit up instantly.

“Mm.” Bian Chengyi nodded, her expression gentle and composed. “They’re all part of the same student organization. I know a few of them.”

“That’s still a bit of a hassle though…” Hua You thought about it, then grinned. “Tell you what—after I run the 1600 meters, if I win first place, I’ll go take that photo with the bamboo.”

Bian Chengyi nodded again, then added quietly, “There are a lot of Alphas signed up for the 1600. I’m not saying Omegas can’t have good stamina… I just hope you don’t push yourself too hard.”

Hua You raised her fist and, very smoothly, twisted Bian Chengyi’s concern into something else. “Don’t worry! I’ll crush the competition!”

But the moment she actually stepped onto the track, she realized just how endless it looked. Four laps—400 meters each—for a total of 1600. Hua You wasn’t entirely sure her body could handle it. According to the original novel, she was the type who loved hiking and adventuring, so her stamina should’ve been decent.

Still, no amount of mental prep could completely brace her for the final lap. Her vision blurred. Her head spun. Her throat tasted metallic and sweet. Every part of her body was screaming in pain, on the verge of falling apart. But with the entire school watching—and after boasting to Bian Chengyi—she had no choice but to finish the race.

Come on, Hua You. Just hold on a little longer. Don’t embarrass yourself.

At the finish line, Bian Chengyi appeared calm, but inside, her heart was far from settled.

Her gaze never left that small but determined figure inching forward. A strange feeling welled up inside her. Truthfully, if no one had signed up for the 1600 meters, it would’ve been her duty as class monitor to run it.

That’s how it had been in the past two years. After finishing her own race, she had nearly collapsed from exhaustion. No one waited for her at the finish line. Fang Jinyu had gone to watch the boys’ long jump. She’d walked the field alone, as if strolling across a path paved with fire and ash.

The placement hadn’t mattered. Not even the physical pain. What truly hurt was the solitude of that slow recovery—that long, silent walk.

Now, watching Hua You’s struggle was like watching a version of her past self.

Then, in the last 200 meters, Hua You suddenly seemed to catch her second wind. Like a dying flame flaring to life, she surged forward with astonishing power.

She lifted her head and ran with everything she had. And when her eyes locked onto Bian Chengyi’s, she even smiled a little.

Then, amid the blast of the whistle, she crossed the finish line and crashed straight into Bian Chengyi’s arms.

“Sister Chengyi… I want a photo with the big bamboo…”

The momentum of her sprint took them both to the ground. Bian Chengyi instinctively caught her, arms wrapping around Hua You’s shoulders—but what hit her senses was the dizzying sweetness of peach blossoms.

…

No way.

As Hua You lost consciousness, her last thought was that she was doomed. She had walked right into the plot again. Her lines—even now—sounded naïve and stubborn.

Her strength gave out completely. Darkness swallowed her.

Right before everything faded, she thought she heard Bian Chengyi calling her name.

“Hua You, Hua You?”

“Wake up! Where’s your medicine…? Can you hang on a bit longer? Ah You!”

When she woke again, Hua You found herself staring blankly at the blindingly white ceiling.

She lifted a hand to her forehead. The heat from her secondary gender flare—induced by exhaustion—confirmed it: the 1600-meter race had pushed her into her susceptibility phase.

As she slowly forced herself to sit up, it hit her that Bian Chengyi was still there.

She had been watching her the entire time, it seemed. With a calm expression, she quietly closed the notebook in her hand—it looked more like decoration than anything. Her tone was even and unreadable. “Awake?”

Hua You didn’t answer immediately. Bian Chengyi didn’t go to get the school nurse, either. Instead, she continued in the stillness of the private infirmary room.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Hua You shook her head, then cautiously asked, “Did I… pass out from exhaustion?”

“Mm.” Bian Chengyi responded at her own pace. She absently ran her fingers over the notebook’s spine, then placed it on the shelf with a thud. Her voice grew a touch colder. “Hua You, you’ve been an Omega for nearly eighteen years. You don’t know how important it is to manage your medication before susceptibility sets in?”

“Ah?” Hua You wanted to say, I’ve only been an Omega for a few days, actually, but of course, she couldn’t say that. All she could do was bow her head like a child being scolded.

“I’m not even going to ask why you’re having your second episode this month,” Bian Chengyi said, a faint smile curling her lips. “But do you know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there? Do you know how far your pheromones would’ve spiraled out of control?”

Still speechless, Hua You simply lifted her eyes to look at her. They shimmered slightly, a little watery, a little wronged.

That expression was Bian Chengyi’s weakness.

She leaned in close—so close that their bodies nearly touched—and her forehead pressed against Hua You’s. Their pheromones tangled in the air between them, making it almost impossible to breathe properly.

Then, Bian Chengyi lowered her head—

And buried her face in the crook of Hua You’s neck.

“Think of it as the price for lying to me…”

Her hands held onto Hua You’s arms. The salty sea-breeze scent of her pheromones surrounded them. Hua You shifted uncomfortably, but Bian Chengyi held her firmly in place.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Or rather, I’m begging you.”

“Don’t let anyone else smell your peach blossom scent again.”

And before Hua You could even react— She bit down on the back of her neck.