A Scummy Alpha Supporting Character Accidentally Marks the Heroine After Transmigrating into a Book (GL) - Chapter 38

Yan Nanjue didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about what Chen Wanjun might be speculating on the other end of the line.

She knew a thing or two about Chen Wanjun’s personality: she was intelligent, tight-lipped, and disliked meddling in emotional entanglements. At most, she would offer a word of advice as a friend; if the party involved didn’t listen, she wouldn’t get angry, nor would she get further involved.

In many ways, Chen Wanjun was merely a passerby who never let a single leaf touch her clothes.

“You know the code to the apartment,” Yan Nanjue said. “Go there now.”

Disturbed in the middle of the night, Chen Wanjun didn’t complain. She swallowed her prepared words and simply replied, “Alright, I’m driving to the apartment now.”

Yan Nanjue breathed a small sigh of relief. Now, she just had to wait for Chen Wanjun’s reply.

Chen Wanjun grabbed her car keys and crossed the small courtyard with its glass flooring. Passing through the dim, flickering lights that cast moving shadows across her face, she got into her car and dutifully headed toward her childhood friend’s home.

At the apartment, she rang the doorbell. Only after confirming no one was opening did she start to input the code. Halfway through, the door opened.

Behind the door stood Bai Wan. Her eyes were half-closed, and the dark circles beneath them were exceptionally prominent.

“…Chen Wanjun?” Bai Wan retrieved the name from her memory and asked with confusion.

Chen Wanjun swept her gaze up and down, noting that Bai Wan didn’t look like anything had happened, nor were there visible injuries. A-Yan could rest easy.

She spoke with polite grace: “I’ve come to pick up some things for A-Yan.” Seeing Bai Wan’s slight frown, she realized the woman wasn’t aware of Yan Nanjue’s movements. “A-Yan is on a business trip; she won’t be in A-City for a few days. I happened to be passing by and came to pick up a document for her.”

Bai Wan stepped aside.

Chen Wanjun grabbed a random, voided document from the study. When she came back out, Bai Wan was pouring water. She seemed to have a headache, supporting her forehead with one hand, her complexion looking poor.

“I asked A-Yan to call you on my way over, but you didn’t pick up,” Chen Wanjun noted. “Give her a call back.”

With that, she closed the apartment door without lingering.

Back in her car, Chen Wanjun held the steering wheel with one hand and messaged Yan Nanjue with the other.

[Chen Wanjun: She’s fine. She was likely asleep. I told her to call you.]

Inside the room, Bai Wan found her phone on the desk. It had died and powered off. She plugged it in to charge, frowning as she wondered why she had slept for so long. She remembered taking leave, then returning to the apartment in a daze; she closed her eyes and a whole day had passed.

She couldn’t remember a single thing that happened in between.

It felt like waking up from a blackout after a night of heavy drinking—the memory was severely blurred, like a dream that was vivid while sleeping but faded into oblivion almost immediately upon waking.

Bai Wan leaned back against the sofa, pressing her fingertips into her temples. The pain was sharp. Had her health deteriorated to this point? It seemed it was time for a check-up.

She waited for about ten minutes, then picked up her phone. There was a missed call. Bai Wan tapped it, and the phone auto-dialed.

“What is it?”

Hearing her voice, Yan Nanjue let out a massive sigh of relief. Her tense nerves relaxed. Thank goodness, the heroine is fine.

Then, she switched to a cold interrogation: “Why couldn’t your phone be reached?”

“It died.”

“Bai Wan,” Yan Nanjue’s tone carried a chilling, dangerous edge. “Your phone must be reachable twenty-four hours a day. When I am looking for you, you must appear. If this happens again, you know the consequences.”

Bai Wan pinched the bridge of her nose, a suppressed hostility flaring in her eyes, yet in the end, she said nothing. “I understand.”

Yan Nanjue was satisfied. She was about to end the call when the System reminded her about the “White Moonlight.” Panicking, she nearly forgot.

She composed herself before speaking. “Also, I don’t want to hear that name from your mouth ever again.”

“Regardless of how you learned it, I don’t want to hear it. Know your place, Bai Wan.”

Bai Wan’s pupils shifted slightly. What name? She didn’t voice her confusion, merely staring gloomily at the glowing name on the screen.

The person on the other end continued: “This is my first warning, and my last.”

Yan Nanjue finished and held her breath, waiting for a reply.

“It has nothing to do with me.”

A cold response, but Yan Nanjue felt an immediate sense of relief. It seemed Bai Wan had just heard the name “Su Changyin” from somewhere but didn’t know about the substitute secret. Her mission was safe for now.

She pushed the matter to the back of her mind and focused on her trip.

Returning to A-City a week and a half later, Yan Nanjue saw Bai Wan at the villa entrance. Yan Changqing had returned to her own residence, and Assistant Lin had happily gone home for a paid vacation.

Yan Nanjue took off her trench coat, handing it to a servant while another took her suitcase. The sound of a car engine came from behind; she turned her head to see Bai Wan stepping out of a car, holding a folder. She had clearly just finished work.

Meeting on a narrow path, Yan Nanjue couldn’t help but feel nervous again. Bai Wan merely glanced at her, brushed past, and sat at the foyer to change shoes. The entryway was so quiet a pin could be heard dropping.

“You’ve lived quite comfortably while I was away, Mrs. Yan,” Yan Nanjue said coldly, looking down at her.

“It was alright,” Bai Wan replied flatly.

“You don’t seem very happy about my return.”

Bai Wan stood up in her slippers, answering with something else entirely: “I’m going to the sanatorium tomorrow.”

Yan Nanjue checked the calendar; tomorrow was indeed the monthly visitation day. Thinking about recent events, she decided on the spot: “I’ll go with you.”

Bai Wan, walking toward the elevator, paused and looked back. The words “What are you going for?” were written all over her face.

Yan Nanjue didn’t explain. She used an authoritative tone: “You have no right to refuse me.”

Bai Wan stared at her for a few seconds, her eyes cold, but said nothing and entered the elevator.

Yan Nanjue fell into a daze-like sleep and woke up refreshed in the early morning. She ate breakfast and stood by the floor-to-ceiling window with a cup of hot water. The yard was filled with roses—clusters of deep and light colors, gorgeous yet decadent. Most buds were peeking out from the green leaves, glistening with morning dew.

Her gaze, however, was on the flower stands where Bai Wan’s Epiphyllum (Queen of the Night) was placed.

Very light footsteps approached. The butler, who usually walked soundlessly, made a deliberate noise. “Why didn’t you sleep a bit longer, Miss?”

“Slept enough,” Yan Nanjue said flatly.

The butler stood beside her, looking at the flowers. “The Madam loves those pots she planted herself; she always tends to them personally. If she’s at the villa, she never lets anyone else touch them.”

“It’s a pity it’s not the blooming season. I wonder which month they’ll flower this year.”

Yan Nanjue retrieved some fragments of memory from the original host. These Epiphyllums had been there since Bai Wan moved in. Bai Wan hadn’t witnessed them bloom the first two times—once she was called away to be humiliated at a party by the host, and once she was under house arrest, unable to even leave her room.

The butler seemed to remember this as well, her voice softening. “Miss, forgive my meddling.” She paused. “Will the Madam be able to see them bloom this year?”

Yan Nanjue gave her a sidelong glance. Butler Li had been with the Yan family for over twenty years; her hair was graying at the temples, and she was a very dedicated, kind middle-aged woman. During Bai Wan’s house arrest, she was the one who frequently snuck food to her.

In the original book, after the heroine blackened, Li was dismissed with a large severance package. Later, when the original host died, she visited the cemetery to offer three sticks of incense for the girl she had watched grow up.

“Aunt Li, you’ve been talking more and more lately,” Yan Nanjue said. Her tone was cold, but her attitude hadn’t changed.

The butler smiled. “I’m getting older; it’s hard not to chatter. I’m lucky you’re so patient with me.”

Yan Nanjue looked back out the window. “Perhaps.”

The butler didn’t catch her meaning immediately. Only after Yan Nanjue left the window did she shake her head helplessly, a hint of a smile in her eyes. The Miss… she really is awkward.

The sanatorium was the same as before, shrouded in the heavy scent of disinfectant. Everything was quiet.

When they arrived, the twins, Bai Qingzhi and Bai Xinzhi, were on IV drips. Xinzhi lay quietly, shrinking into his blanket when he heard the door. Yan Nanjue took one look and left the room.

Qingzhi was restless despite the needle in her arm, drawing with a crayon with her free hand. Hearing the door, both children looked up with joy.

“Sister, you’re here!”

“Sister!”

Bai Wan entered and rubbed both their heads. Qingzhi’s eyes darted around. “Did Sister Yan not come with you? She promised she’d come see me last time.”

Bai Wan’s hand paused. “She’s at the door.”

“Then why isn’t she coming in?”

Bai Wan didn’t know how to answer. “Let’s finish the IV first, Qing? I’ll take you to find her afterward.”

Qingzhi nodded happily. “I’ve been so good lately. I didn’t even cry during the needle. Look at Brother, he cried again!”

Xinzhi pulled the blanket over his face. “That’s because you scared me… You’re the little sister, I won’t argue with you.”

Seeing Qingzhi huff, Bai Wan took the crayon away. “Don’t move your hand yet. I’ll help you draw later.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll listen to Sister!”

On the other side, Yan Nanjue was in the attending physician’s office.

“Xinzhi’s condition is much better than Qingzhi’s. After one last surgery, he can live like a normal person. His weakness is mostly due to malnutrition.”

“Qingzhi is different,” the doctor said. “Her heart problem is much more severe than other children her age. She needs a heart transplant before she turns ten. If there’s a sudden attack or she’s stimulated, she’ll need surgery immediately, otherwise, the consequences will be unimaginable.”

Yan Nanjue listened to a mountain of medical jargon she didn’t understand, regretting that she hadn’t brought Assistant Lin. She put on her cold “CEO” face and ordered: “Watch her closely.”

“We will, President Yan. It is our duty.”

She left the office and walked toward the ward, her heart feeling unexpectedly heavy. In the original book, Bai Qingzhi died from a heart attack. Neither of the twins survived.

Everything Bai Wan had—her sanctuary, her emotional anchors, and her only two relatives—was destroyed. Just like her life, everything was leveled to the ground.