Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 4

Well then. Clearly, that new nickname was just another one of Hua You’s quirky ideas meant to mess with her. But Bian Chengyi had long since gotten used to giving in on minor things — she could always balance it out in other areas.

“Call me whatever you want. I don’t care.”

A sparkle lit up in Hua You’s eyes. The moment she saw her progress bar tick up to 15%, it felt like victory was already within reach — and with that, her wish to see her long-departed parents would be that much closer to coming true. She couldn’t help but smile… only for Ms. He to shatter that perfect moment with a single sentence:

“Hua You, have your class rep answer this question. If she gets it right, you both can come in. If not — another five minutes outside.”

Ms. He wasn’t trying to be cruel to Bian Chengyi — in fact, she wasn’t targeting either of them. Letting Bian Chengyi answer was simply the safest bet. But that line she’d just said? “Your class rep”? It didn’t reflect any special fondness at all.

In truth, Ms. He Yi didn’t particularly like students like Bian Chengyi — always composed, always perfectly mannered. She was barely eighteen, yet she acted more like a peer than a student. That false sense of maturity blurred the teacher-student boundary in a way Ms. He found quietly uncomfortable.

Of course, she’d never intentionally make things hard for a model student. But treating Bian Chengyi the same as everyone else? That, in her world, was a kind of rejection.

To a student like Bian Chengyi, being treated “just like the others” felt like being dismissed.

Even though her focus hadn’t been fully on the class, Bian Chengyi had a rough idea of what topic they were covering. This wasn’t a basic concept or image-based biology question — it required real reasoning. She could talk through her thinking process, but arriving at the correct answer on the spot wasn’t easy.

Just as she was about to stall by walking through the logic out loud, Hua You stepped in with a confident grin:

“This kind of question doesn’t need to trouble our class rep. I’ve got it.”

Ms. He raised an eyebrow. She knew Hua You’s academic track record wasn’t great, but she did appreciate that blunt, emotional honesty she used to wear on her sleeve. So, she simply nodded.
“Go ahead, then.”

“The answer is B — ATP count. The key here is that the materials are reversible, but the energy is not.”

Standing at the classroom entrance, Hua You delivered her answer without hesitation. Several classmates looked up in surprise — some even let out quiet laughs. One of them was her deskmate, Qin Jing, who was convinced Hua You had snuck a peek at the answer sheet.

Ms. He also suspected something fishy. Of course, she couldn’t have guessed Hua You was now being piloted by someone else entirely. But she didn’t intend to press the issue.

She cleared her throat to quiet the room, then nodded slowly:
“Your reasoning’s solid. Come in and sit.”

“Thank you, teacher!” Hua You beamed.

She took a step back, turned slightly so no one else could see, and shot a proud little smirk at Bian Chengyi — a clear Wasn’t that awesome? expression.

Hehe. The heroine is a genius in liberal arts. But me? I’m a genius in science. Pretty cool, right?

Bian Chengyi’s lips curled slightly — not quite a smile — but her face had gone even paler. She looked like a perfectly clean sheet of paper, the kind that would vanish the moment a breeze touched it.

In those few seconds, her thoughts whirled:
Was Hua You trying to help her out? Or just trying to show off in front of the class?

With the recent reform of the college entrance exam, students now had to take ten subjects — nine written, plus one physical. Every subject counted. Every subject mattered. And literature (Chinese) was now worth double the points of English — a full 200 points.

This meant that students who excelled in liberal arts had a clear advantage over those strong in sciences.

But that advantage had its limits. In this era, specialists didn’t win anymore — only well-rounded geniuses could rise to the top.

If Hua You really had that kind of talent in science — and had only been hiding it all along — then Bian Chengyi’s position in the top three might be in serious jeopardy.

Yes. In Class 3, the top three spots had been stable for ages.
First and second place alternated between the “Fang Duo” — Fang Jinyu (the female lead) and Fang Huai (the male lead) — locked in a mythical battle of brilliance.
Third place belonged to the class rep, Bian Chengyi.

Her math and physics were slightly weaker than the top two, but in every other subject, she was elite.

If she lost third place, then her authority as class rep would undoubtedly be shaken.

No — that wasn’t the real issue.

What echoed in her mind instead was her mother’s cold, cutting voice:

“So consistent, so steady. You’ve been third for ages. Not a shred of progress.”

If she fell any further…

Bian Chengyi pressed a short, rounded fingernail into her palm. It was a dull ache — but one that somehow echoed all the way to her heart.

She returned to her seat, flipping open her notebook in an attempt to bury herself in it — to force her thoughts into submission.

Class 3 of Grade 12 assigned seats based on ranking. But of course, most students didn’t just consider getting a good view from the front and center — they also wanted to sit near their closest friends.

Fang Jinyu, who had placed first last time, sat in row three, column three. On her left was Fang Huai, and on her right — Bian Chengyi. She turned slightly, passing over a test paper:
“Chengyi, I copied my notes for you on the margin — figured it’d be easier to read than your notebook from earlier.”

“Thanks, Xiaoyu.”
Bian Chengyi smiled faintly.

“Why are you thanking me?” Fang Jinyu whispered, then turned to glance toward Hua You, her expression tinged with disbelief.
“Did you just… give her the answer?”

Bian Chengyi knew the question was genuine, but also laced with subtle probing. Girls were sensitive when it came to friendship dynamics. No one wanted their “rival” becoming their best friend’s new favorite.

“No,” she replied.
“She figured it out herself. She’s smart… I think I underestimated her.”

There was a pause. Then she added quietly,
“Just… be careful.”

Fang Jinyu glanced sideways at Fang Huai, then shook her head with a half-smile.
“Relax. I only see you and Fang Huai as real competition. If anyone else gets a perfect score, it’s not my business. Besides, who compares themselves to the national top scorer? It’s pointless.”
She shrugged.
“And she’d have to keep scoring well for it to matter. Who knows — maybe she saw the answer somewhere.”

A single time might be luck. Twice? That was harder to write off.

Bian Chengyi knew she couldn’t convince Fang Jinyu without actual proof. But even if she could — so what? What if the person you disliked really did get better? This wasn’t a novel. What could you do — swap her mechanical pencil for a fake to sabotage her exam?

No. People just stayed in their own lanes, gossiped a little behind closed doors. That was it.

When Bian Chengyi disliked someone, she did it openly. She didn’t shy from a challenge, nor did she stir up drama. She stood her ground like an immovable mountain — waiting calmly for whatever move Hua You might pull next. And if she did retaliate, it would be swift and clean, like a blade. She didn’t just win — she won with grace and brilliance.

As for what she really thought of Hua You…
Even she couldn’t quite say. It was like a splinter lodged in her throat — always there when she spoke, always present. Over time, you got used to it. Remove it, and maybe you’d forget how to speak at all.

When did this start? she wondered, stabbing a five-point star onto a wrong answer in her corrections book.

Just one whiff of her peach blossom scent, and it was like she’d been hit with a curse.
She decided to blame it all on pheromones — that had to be it.

It had to be biology messing with her brain.

From the back of the classroom, Hua You sat dreamily gazing at a large pine tree outside the window.

Hua You didn’t like tying up her hair. Modern schools had mostly given up on forcing girls into ponytails and boys into crew cuts. They’d realized that uniformity didn’t guarantee better college admissions. Still, they banned flashy hair colors to avoid peer pressure and attention-seeking.

Hua You’s hair was a natural soft brown, fluffy and untamed, falling loosely around her cheeks. Her fringe curled gently across her forehead, and in profile, her face looked extra petite — a squirrel-sized face made entirely of features.

Her eyes were dark and bright. When she turned and her gaze met Bian Chengyi’s, it felt like a spark had jumped between them — or maybe she’d just been burned, for a second.

Bian Chengyi thought to herself: I’m going to need to sneak some calming medicine from home.
If she didn’t, she feared her heartbeat might never settle again.

Hua You blinked, staring in confusion at the system’s progress bar bouncing up and down like it was partying at a club — sometimes dipping below 15%, sometimes spiking past 20%, but eventually settling around the 20% mark.

Well… she is a Black Lotus, Hua You reasoned. Having complicated thoughts is kind of part of the package.

It had been ages since she last sat through a class. And to be thrown straight into the high-pressure, nonstop schedule of senior year? Staying awake was practically a battle in itself. After biology came geography, then two consecutive math periods. Thankfully, Ms. Xu was kind. She never pushed them too hard and understood that exhaustion was real. If someone nodded off, she usually just let it go.

Finally — mercifully — dinner time arrived.

The moment the bell rang, Hua You’s eyes lit up.

She was just about to bolt for the cafeteria when her deskmate Qin Jing spun around in her seat, arms crossed and expression sour.

“I’m very upset, and you didn’t even notice, did you?”

“Huh?”
Hua You paused mid-reach for her meal card, looking genuinely puzzled.

Qin Jing glared at her.
“Why didn’t you let me take you to the infirmary today? I’m a BETA. Even if you don’t like me that much, I’m still better than Bian Chengyi, right?”
She added, louder:
“And why did you help her out in class? You know I can’t stand her!”

Hua You cautiously tried,
“She… she is kind of annoying, but like, where exactly does the annoying part start?”

Qin Jing scoffed, arms flailing.
“Ugh, seriously? She’s such a fake — always putting on an act, and always targeting us! Isn’t that enough to hate her for? And that Fang Jinyu girl is no better — acting all concerned and asking me if you were okay earlier. I didn’t even bother answering.”

By this point, most of the class had already left for dinner. Across the room, Bian Chengyi, who wasn’t heading to the cafeteria, pulled a sandwich from her desk and opened a history book. Naturally, she heard every word.

Some people’s dislike was rough and irrational. Sometimes they just didn’t like your face — and from that point on, nothing about you was ever right again.

Now Hua You finally understood why the original version of her had hated Bian Chengyi so much.
Turns out, she had someone constantly whispering in her ear.

Bian Chengyi took a bite of her sandwich. Her time was precious. Even if she couldn’t block out the noise, as long as her brain and eyes worked, it didn’t matter. The school banned headphones, but if they didn’t, she’d probably have cranked the volume up to max by now.

Hua You let out a long “ohhh,” like she’d just had an epiphany, then clapped her hands.

“Got it! I’m going to eat now.”

Qin Jing stared, totally unamused.
“Hua Hua, you’ve changed. You would’ve comforted me before…”

Would I?
Hua You didn’t think so.

In her past life, she’d always been excellent at avoiding social interactions. As a genius student, people often tried — consciously or not — to get close to her. But her mental wavelength rarely aligned with theirs. When faced with an invite, she had three magic responses:
“I already have plans,”
“Sorry, I can’t,” and
“I have homework.”

Then she’d retreat to the library and read in peace. Many had disliked her coldness, but Hua You had always felt wronged.
Is it a crime to not want to socialize with people you don’t click with?

Whatever. People like that didn’t listen anyway.

When it became clear that Hua You wasn’t planning to eat with her, Qin Jing’s frustration hit new heights — to her, this was basically betrayal.

And then, to make things worse, Hua You walked right over to Bian Chengyi.

She tapped lightly on the edge of her desk.

Bian Chengyi looked up, eyes dark and unreadable — her expression said nothing except,
“You are interrupting me.”

Hua You cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed but forging ahead anyway.

“I just wanted to ask, Sister Bian… do you want to go to the cafeteria for dinner?”

Afraid she’d be rejected, she even raised her meal card in offering, her voice playfully exaggerated:

“My treat.”