Healing the Black Lotus Female Supporting Character (Transmigration into a Book - ABO) - Chapter 6

After paying for everything, Bian Chengyi shoved the pile of snacks into Hua You’s arms.
“Up to you,” she said simply. Then, glancing at her watch, she added,
“I need to head back and shower. My dorm’s not in the same direction, so I’ll go ahead.”

In this school, students were divided across eight dorm buildings, based on their six-gender system. Six of those buildings were four-person rooms, and two were doubles.

The double-occupancy dorms were for students who had either already completed a bond mark or registered for marriage. Policies were more open now: as long as both parties were over 16, they could apply — regardless of whether they had marked or not. Even bonded pairs who weren’t legally married could usually get approved. It was one of the school’s AO-pairing encouragement benefits.

At that moment, Hua You mentally reviewed where she was supposed to be heading.

She took the snacks from Bian Chengyi with just the right touch of hesitation and reluctance.
“Then… you go ahead.”

Her internal system pinged — Bian Chengyi’s progress bar hit 25%.
A quarter complete.

Right now, she was living in one of the four-person dorms. The original Hua You had a decent reputation, and the dorm relationships were relatively smooth. As soon as she walked in, two girls greeted her with enthusiasm.

Quickly pulling up her memory, Hua You called out with confidence:
“Lingling! Eggplant! Come split these chips!”

The two girls who had been huddled together solving a massive chemistry problem quickly slipped on their slippers and ran to the door.

“Lingling” — full name Lin Lingwan — had her hair wrapped in a shower cap and wore pajamas printed with tiny white puppies. Hua You could even catch the scent of her body wash as she got close.
“Why’d you buy so many chips? Didn’t your O-dad cut your allowance?”

“As if!” Hua You groaned dramatically.
“The class rep gave them to me.”

The girl nicknamed Eggplant — real name Lu Qianzi — popped up from the chip pile, her big eyes full of confusion. Her twin ponytails bounced as she hesitated, then asked carefully:
“Did you catch her doing something? She trying to bribe you to shut up?”

“Of course not!”
Hua You knew these two didn’t exactly hate Bian Chengyi — they just went along with the gossip back when she used to complain. They weren’t like Qin Jing — there was no need to fake anything, but she still had to smooth things over.
“We made peace! These are her peace offerings.”

“Yeah, right,” Lin Lingwan made a face, but had already hugged the chips to her chest.

Lu Qianzi was still curious:
“Okay, but what really happened? Come on, spill it, Hua Hua!”

“Well…”
Hua You slipped two lollipops into her hands and sighed theatrically.
“I figured out why I used to hate her.”

“Why?” both girls chorused.

Lin Lingwan added enthusiastically:
“Let me guess — you thought she was targeting you, right? Always tripping you up, looking down on your grades. Honestly, she seems super sweet in class, but if you say she’s a snake, we’ll believe you without a second thought!”

Hua You was truly grateful for how well the original Hua You had managed her dorm relationships. But sometimes, having friends this supportive was a double-edged sword.

“No, no — I made that up. All of it.”
She pressed her palms together and mock-prayed at her forehead, looking utterly resigned.
“Okay, fine. Cards on the table. All those nasty things I said about her before? It’s because I liked her too much.”

The room went eerily silent. For a split second, time itself seemed to freeze. Somewhere, imaginary crows flew overhead.

“Hua Hua, are you running a fever?”
Lu Qianzi reached out and touched her forehead. Hua You gently pushed her hand away with a laugh.

“Nope, I’m fine. Funny how you all believed me when I was lying, but now that I’m telling the truth, no one believes me.”

“I get it,” Lin Lingwan nodded seriously.
“Love so deep it turns into hate.”

“Lingling, you get me!”
Hua You was moved. She was just about to launch into the next dramatic retelling when Lin Lingwan turned to the fourth roommate, who had just emerged from the bathroom.
“Feifei, don’t you agree?”

In this dorm, Lin Lingwan and Lu Qianzi usually stuck together. Hua You had her own orbit.
Pei Fei, meanwhile, was the lone wolf — known in the dorm as the “Efficient Scholar.”

She didn’t like waiting for people, didn’t care for gossip, and focused all her energy on academics. She was relentless in her pursuit of efficiency — but when it came to basic conversations, she wasn’t a total brick wall. She’d chime in now and then.

So, the dorm’s chemistry was actually very balanced.

Pei Fei smiled faintly.
“Of course. Miss Hua’s love must be something special.”
Then she casually added,
“So, who’s next for the shower?”

“I’ll go next,” said Lu Qianzi, grabbing her shower caddy.
“You just ate, Hua Hua. Don’t worry — I promise not to hog the bathroom for forty minutes…”

“You get ten.”
Hua You playfully reached to twist her ear.

“Mission accepted!”
Lu Qianzi giggled and mock-saluted, then dashed off toward the bathroom.

At the desk, Pei Fei, her hair still damp from her own shower, had already switched on her lamp and was back to writing. Meanwhile, Lin Lingwan scooted closer to Hua You.

“Hua Hua,” she whispered, “you weren’t just joking earlier, right? You really like the class rep now?”

Hua You nodded rapidly like a pecking chick.
“Of course, of course!”

As the saying goes — if you’re serious about romance, you need good wingwomen. At the very least, you have to let the people around you know where you stand. Otherwise, if gossip reaches Bian Chengyi’s ears and the narrative is still “I hate her and want to fight her,” well… that wouldn’t do at all.

“Tsk tsk,” Lin Lingwan clicked her tongue.
“Girls really do change fast once they fall in love. But honestly? The class rep is gorgeous. And she’s always so gentle. It’s just… doesn’t she look a bit sickly? Her face is always pale.”

Gentle?
You’ve clearly never seen her in combat mode, Hua You screamed internally.
You don’t know how chaotic it gets when I challenge her head-on!

But on the surface, she kept her smile sweet and dreamily youthful, like a girl freshly struck by puppy love.
“Right? Our ‘Class Rep Xishi’ — who wouldn’t fall for her? I mean, don’t point fingers at me. I guess I was just blind before…”

Meanwhile, on the other side of campus, Bian Chengyi, freshly showered and back in the classroom, sneezed hard.

It was the Spring Equinox, and the large glass windows on the first floor let in stray branches of peach blossoms. Students hadn’t been inspired enough to write poetic essays about them — instead, someone reported them to the security office.

Soon after, a maintenance worker in uniform arrived during the dinner break to trim them. She knocked gently on the classroom door.

The room was still quiet. No one else was there yet.

“Come in,” Bian Chengyi said.

Her hair, slightly damp from steam, hung loosely over her chest. She looked up — just briefly — and when her gaze met the sanitation workers, she offered a faint, soft smile before quickly returning to her book.

Her desk was tidy — only essential stationery, a water bottle, and the book in her hands. Other papers and textbooks were stacked neatly beneath her desk. But on the table’s edge, a half-eaten roll of bread sat in plain sight.

It was senior year — the final stretch. Every minute counted.
But even so… if all she ever ate was bread, her health would eventually suffer.

The sanitation worker, who had children of her own, couldn’t help glancing at her a few more times as she gathered the peach branches.

“Sweetheart, that kind of food won’t keep you going for long,” she said, almost without thinking.

Bian Chengyi’s mind, deep in unraveling a problem’s steps, was jolted back to reality. Her pen jabbed heavily onto the page — but she didn’t show a trace of annoyance.

Instead, she looked a little embarrassed by the sudden concern, her voice soft and respectful:
“Don’t worry, I had a proper dinner. This is just for later.”

She smiled as she said it — not too much, just enough.
Her eyes, gently curved like peach petals, carried a warmth that made the sanitation worker suddenly stop mourning the soon-to-be-discarded peach blossoms.

They weren’t the only beautiful thing in bloom tonight.

Estimating the time, Bian Chengyi stood and headed to the restroom.

There were still fifteen minutes left before evening study hall — a time she had carefully calculated as the optimal window for bathroom use. It was when the fewest students were around, reducing the risk of long lines or running into chatty classmates.

On her way back to class, she took a detour toward the administrative office hallway — the monthly exam Red Honor Roll was probably being posted.

Sure enough, she arrived just as the Grade Director was pinning up the final sheet: the history leaderboard.

Director Lu, a man in his forties, had taught her Chinese in her first year. He remembered her well — a gentle, strikingly beautiful student who had always stood out.

Glancing at the final list, her name was easy to find: uncommon surname, excellent rank.

“Third place — well done, Chengyi,” he said with a smile.
“I remember… You only lost six points to Fang Jinyu in math this time. Everything else was neck and neck — you even beat her by one point in English. Old Liu keeps praising you to me.”

Bian Chengyi smiled politely, her eyes flicking to the board — there it was, her name firmly in third place.

The rankings showed name, first gender, second gender, then total score.

Naturally, Fang Jinyu stood out in first.

Nowadays, first gender wasn’t such a big deal anymore — it was second gender that carried more weight. Alphas clustered together, Betas with Betas. And across the entire school, Fang Jinyu — a lone Omega — had somehow become the brightest figure in a sea of Alphas. No wonder it chipped away at the Alphas’ inherent pride and competitiveness.

Director Lu noticed a slight shift in Bian Chengyi’s smile — the faintest trace of disheartenment — and offered some encouragement:

“Fang Jinyu’s a genius. Great memory, strong intuition — real talent. But being an Omega, she’ll eventually hit some limits. You, on the other hand, you’re an Alpha. You’ve got long-term potential. Honestly, even if your math keeps you from getting into Yue University, with your diligence, Hua University or Dong University is absolutely within reach.”

While mentally counting the minutes she was wasting on this conversation, Bian Chengyi responded gently:

“Don’t worry, Mr. Lu. I’ve got a good mindset.”
Then she lowered her voice, a bit playful, a bit candid:
“And between us, Omegas these days can accomplish just as much as anyone else. If our school produces a Yue University student — regardless of gender — it’ll be something to be proud of. And personally, she’d still be part of what made my high school years worthwhile.”

She added with a meaningful glance,
“Also, please don’t mention anything about gender to Jinyu. I’m pretty sure she’s heard enough of that to grow calluses in her ears. There’s a fire in her — I’d hate to see it fanned the wrong way.”

“Fair, fair — that was my bad,” Director Lu chuckled.
Then, with a knowing smile, he added,
“You care about her a lot, don’t you?”
His tone turned half-teasing.
“Shame, though — looks like someone else already claimed that flower. Society’s more open now, sure — back then we didn’t allow relationships, and we definitely didn’t allow Alpha and Omega to sit together. Now? They’re practically sharing desks.”

The phrase “claimed flower” made Bian Chengyi’s brow twitch. Her eyes dropped to the second name on the list: Fang Huai.

This time, he was three points behind Fang Jinyu.

Director Lu noticed her momentary distraction and patted her shoulder with a warm smile:
“I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got more work to do.”

The moment he turned away, more students began trickling into the hallway to check the results. With her sharp hearing, Bian Chengyi picked up whispers from just around the corner — two very familiar voices.

“Qianzi,” one girl said, “do you think I’ll make the Red Honor Roll in chemistry this time?”

“Unlikely. But I do know Hua Hua’s 9-point chemistry score is definitely hitting the Blacklist, haha!”

“Oh, shut up. You barely passed with a 30 last time…”

Then, as if remembering something, the second girl gasped:

“Oh wait — speaking of Hua Hua! While you were in the shower, she told me a huge secret!”