Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 20

By the time they finished dinner, it was already nearing 7:30 PM.
Hua You made another call to her father, letting him know she’d be staying the night at Bian Chengyi’s home. He sounded uneasy at first—until Bian Chengyi’s mother took the phone and personally reassured him. She said the two girls would be “studying together” and “motivating each other,” which finally put him at ease.

Clearly, the original Hua You hadn’t left her father with the most reliable impression.

In front of guests, Bian Chengyi knew her mother wouldn’t bring up the fact that she’d only ranked fourth in the recent exam. As expected, her mother merely glanced over the test paper and offered a few words of encouragement to keep working hard.

By coincidence, Hua You had her suitcase with her. When Bian Chengyi’s mother saw her own daughter’s test paper and then looked at Hua You’s, she couldn’t hide her smile.

“Look at little Hua—she’s a natural Omega, with weaker physical strength, but still gets such outstanding grades,” she said, clearly pleased. Then, turning to Hua You, she added, “Little Hua, do help guide our Chengyi a bit. She’s honest and kind, but to put it plainly, not very bright. She works hard, but her scores always seem stuck at the same level.”

Hua You replied sincerely, “Actually, her scores are already really high. You can’t get there with just hard work alone…”

Her mother sighed, clearly still concerned.
“Well, at most she might get into Dongda or Huada. She’s still just a bit short of Yeda.”

Throughout the exchange, Bian Chengyi’s expression remained calm and unbothered, like a still, bottomless well.

Hua You smiled and got up, gently kneading Bian Chengyi’s mother’s shoulders—a gesture that, coming from a guest, was quite intimate.

“It’s alright. There’s still nearly a year left. Sister Bian and I will work hard together to get into our dream schools.”

Her mother gave a satisfied smile, clearly enjoying this kind of talk. She patted Hua You’s hand warmly.
“With you saying that, I feel at ease. Come over and stay anytime—treat this place as your own home. Now, I won’t keep you two from studying. Go on to the study room. If you need anything—snacks, drinks—just ask the staff.”

Once her mother left and the study room was just the two of them again, the atmosphere instantly shifted.

Hua You, having fully taken “treat it like your own home” to heart, sprawled out on the executive chair and popped a chocolate into her mouth. In a small, mischievous voice, like a kid gossiping for the first time, she muttered,
“Sister Bian, your mom loves studying even more than you do.”

Bian Chengyi didn’t seem surprised. In fact, she smiled a little.
“She’s been strict with me since I was little. But… I get it. That’s just how she shows love.”

As she said those words, Bian Chengyi couldn’t help but think of the very end of her previous life.

After her death, as a wandering soul, she never dared look at her mother’s expression.

She only listened.
Listened to her mother’s composed eulogy at the funeral.
Listened to her soothe and host every guest.
Listened to the mother who never seemed to grieve cry beside her elder sister’s grave.

She had watched from afar as her mother’s back hunched, whispering to her sister’s photo:
“How did this happen… At what point did Chengyi go so wrong?”

Her older sister, who had died at twelve, smiled eternally from a black-and-white photo—an eerie yet peaceful kind of beauty.

In this nineteen-year-long war between mother and daughter, both had lost completely.

Hua You had been quietly watching Chengyi’s expression, and seeing the genuine emotion behind her words, fell into thoughtful silence. She glanced at the system’s temporary task to “Learn About Bian Chengyi’s Past” and let out a sigh in her heart before gently asking:

“Sorry if this is too forward… but did you once have an older brother or sister?”

“I had a sister,” Bian Chengyi replied softly, lifting her eyes.
“She was prettier than me, more gifted at studying, and had the personality of an angel. But she got seriously ill and passed away when I was six.”

“I know my mother always hoped I could become her—or even surpass her—to heal the wound in her heart.”

“But the more people want something… the harder it is to get it.”

Hua You shook her head gently.
“If I were you, Sister Bian, I wouldn’t compare myself to your sister at all.”

“The more you imitate, the more you compare, the more your mother ends up losing two daughters—left only with a hollow shell that’s neither you nor her.”

“You should just be yourself. Everyone has their own path. Why carry someone else’s burden on your shoulders? If I were your sister, I wouldn’t want my little sister to live under a weight like that.”

Bian Chengyi looked at her, then suddenly smiled—radiant and breathtaking, like light breaking through the clouds.

“You’re right, Hua You.”

If I told you… that everything about me isn’t really mine—
That it’s all imitation, all deliberate, all trained—

But the one thing I’m sure of…

Hua You quickly unwrapped another chocolate, held it out to her, and said with a playful grin:
“Stop overthinking. Here—have a sweet and lighten up.”

—The one thing I’m sure of… is that you are the only variable in my absurd, repetitive life.

Bian Chengyi leaned in slightly.
Hua You blinked, then laughed, playfully pushing the chocolate into her mouth. Her fingers accidentally brushed against Bian Chengyi’s lips—a touch as fleeting as lightning but electrifying all the same. A strange, indescribable sensation surged through her, strong enough to make her forget the notification:

Progress: 75%.
Blackening Value: Slight increase.

Bian Chengyi curled her lips into a subtle, satisfied smile.
Seeing the faint blush on Hua You’s face, she decided to ease off the teasing and shifted the topic:

“The police report should be out tomorrow,” she said seriously. “If your guess is right—that the girl and Qin Jing were working together—then it won’t just be expulsion. There may be more severe consequences, depending on whether you choose to forgive them.”

“Sister Bian,” Hua You said with a knowing look, “do you think I should forgive them?”

They exchanged a silent, understanding smile.

On certain principles, they were perfectly aligned.
The wicked deserved punishment. Malice deserved correction. And sometimes, misplaced compassion only bred future disaster.

After all, what had happened wasn’t a petty prank like splashing water—it had been a premeditated assault with harmful intent.

Children couldn’t live in ivory towers forever.
And ivory towers should never become breeding grounds for cruelty.

Still, when the official results came in and Hua You and Bian Chengyi stood in the principal’s office, watching Qin Jing sob and wail, proclaiming her innocence—it still left a bitter taste in their mouths.

“I swear I didn’t plan to use acid! I always said it was just water. Hua Hua, Class Rep—you have to believe me,” Qin Jing cried, clearly at her breaking point even after a few attempts to calm her down. “I mean, come on, I don’t have any deep hatred for either Fang Jinyu or Hua You! Even if I was that stupid, I’d know that getting caught doing something like this would leave a criminal record!”

Meanwhile, the Omega who had confessed and been rejected—Li Feiyi—was completely unfazed.
“Whatever. Do what you want. Just because they say it was me doesn’t make it true. Got proof?” She cast a glance at Bian Chengyi. “And by the way, even if this isn’t my doing, let me just say—when someone does too many shady things, they’re bound to make enemies. Maybe Fang Jinyu should do some soul-searching herself.”

Before she could finish, Hua You nearly lunged forward to punch her.
Bian Chengyi calmly stopped her and instead pulled out her phone.

On the screen, a freshly recorded voice memo was playing back Li Feiyi’s exact words from moments ago.

Bian Chengyi’s eyes narrowed, a faint smile playing at her lips.
“I think I’ll send this to Fang Huai.”

Li Feiyi’s expression darkened instantly.
“I mean, it’s not like I really said anything…”

“What you said doesn’t matter,” Bian Chengyi replied coolly. “What matters is—will Fang Huai believe you?”

“And do you really believe his feelings for Fang Jinyu will change because of this?”

“I was right there,” she added, almost casually. “Right beside him when he confessed to her.”

Bian Chengyi had a knack for killing with kindness, each word as precise and sharp as a blade wrapped in velvet.

“‘The Huai River is clear, and so is Huai’s heart,’” she quoted softly, gaze fixed on Li Feiyi.

“If not for Jinyu… then not anyone at all.”

Bian Chengyi gave a soft smile.
“Li Feiyi,” she said, calm and cool, “you’ll never meet anyone in this life who would say something like that to you.”

“Bian Chengyi!”
Li Feiyi shouted her full name, practically trembling with rage. “You like Fang Jinyu too! Don’t think I don’t know! Are you really that happy now?! If Zhu Yushi hadn’t told me—”

She abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

“What class is he in?”
Bian Chengyi turned to the grade supervisor, Teacher Lu, asking it almost casually.

Teacher Lu flipped through the list on his computer.
“Class Four. Want me to call him over?”

“Zhu Yushi. Don’t you remember him?”
Li Feiyi sneered. “He liked you for over two years. His love letters could build a mountain. If he found out you don’t even remember his class—if he realized he wasted all that affection on someone with no heart—he’d probably want to gouge his own eyes out.”

“Oh…” Bian Chengyi replied flatly, then turned to glance at Hua You without a flicker of emotion.
“Don’t remember him at all.”

Hua You, on the other hand, looked mildly intrigued.
“Was he an Omega? What did he look like? Is he really ugly or something? You just didn’t like his face—”

Before she could finish, Bian Chengyi gently tapped her on the forehead.
“Don’t overthink.”

Still, thanks to Li Feiyi’s little outburst, a vague image stirred in Bian Chengyi’s mind.

A tall, thin male Omega, always wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Soft-spoken, shy.
He used to slip her love letters during holidays. Even after being flatly rejected, he’d keep pestering her classmates in Class Three to deliver more. Every single one ended up in the trash, unread.
Once, she forgot to toss one—and her mother found it. She got a long, harsh scolding for that.

Hua You, now cradling her forehead with mock irritation, muttered,
“Who’s overthinking… I’m just curious who had the guts to chase after our gorgeous Class Rep Xishi. I thought at the very least he’d be good-looking…”

“Not good-looking.”

The words brushed past her ear—Bian Chengyi had leaned in close, her breath warm and soft, grazing Hua You’s skin.

She said:

“I don’t want to compare him to you. He’s not my friend. He’s not someone I respect.”

“In short…”

“You can consider him a completely forgettable person. Not worth a second thought.”