A Scummy Alpha Supporting Character Accidentally Marks the Heroine After Transmigrating into a Book (GL) - Chapter 50

Grandma Yan was taking her medicine.

The entire room was thick with the bitter scent of traditional Chinese herbs. As the smell reached Yan Nanjue’s nose, it was as if she could taste the bitterness on her tongue; a chill ran down her spine, and she shivered involuntarily.

Why do I feel like someone is cursing me behind my back?

Is it the System while it’s on standby?

Yan Nanjue made a random guess, avoiding the porcelain jars of medicine as she looked at the elderly woman before her. Grandma Yan’s posture even while drinking medicine was elegant and composed, without making a sound; having been a member of the upper class her entire life, such breeding was etched into her bones.

Sensing her gaze, Grandma Yan turned to her. “What is it, Nanjue?”

“Your medicine smells very bitter.”

Grandma Yan smiled. “Good medicine is bitter to the taste.”

“Changqing told me she gave Xiao Wan a welcoming gift. I thought, since she as a mother has given something, I as a grandmother should also show some token of appreciation. Nanjue, what do you think?”

Grandma Yan looked at her, her eyes as gentle as water. She didn’t like Bai Wan, but she loved the granddaughter she held dear to her heart.

She was old, not deaf or blind; she had heard bits and pieces about the car accident and the incident with the young Luo girl. She originally thought it was just young people being immature, being reckless with their emotions, and marrying an Omega at random just to spite a mother.

She never expected that her granddaughter’s feelings for Bai Wan were actually genuine. In that case, there was no reason to object—it was Yan Nanjue’s own wife; it was fine as long as she liked her.

Grandma Yan decided that since Yan Changqing had already given a gift, her own contribution could not be omitted.

Yan Nanjue was slightly surprised. “There’s no need, Grandma. She doesn’t need anything.”

“It is necessary,” Grandma Yan insisted. “Treat it as making up for the welcoming gift from before. Even if others don’t ask, I must prepare it. She is, after all, the Madam of the Yan family…” Her voice trailed off slightly. “Wheel me to the exhibition room.”

The estate was massive, with only a few sections in active use—the exhibition room was one of them. Most of the valuable gifts from guests were kept in the outer room, under layers of locks. The inner room, which no one was allowed to enter casually, held Grandma Yan’s personal treasures.

Grandma Yan had her open a safe in the deepest part of the inner room. Inside lay a mutton-fat white jade bracelet.

“Take it out. I’ll give it to Xiao Wan after dinner.”

Yan Nanjue carefully retrieved the bracelet. The white jade was warm to the touch and felt like a layer of soft oil; its color was a faint milky white, and the light falling on it was blurred into a soft halo. It was a bracelet of exceptional quality.

Grandma Yan tried it on. The skin on the back of her hand looked like tree bark. She looked at the jade bracelet, her eyes full of satisfaction. “I didn’t expect it would still fit, though it’s no longer suitable for me.”

Yan Nanjue paused. “Grandma, was this your bracelet from before?”

The butler, Aunt Hai, smiled. “Yes, Miss. You even wore it once when you were little.”

What Grandma Yan didn’t say was that this bracelet was an heirloom left to her by her mother; only the wife of the head of the Yan family was worthy of owning it. It should have been passed to Yan Changqing, but her first wife was ill-fated and died young, and her second wife fell ill shortly after marriage and lived abroad year-round.

The bracelet had been kept until now, and now, it was going directly to Bai Wan.

Yan Nanjue returned to the living room. Yan Zhi and Bai Wan didn’t return until dinner time.

Yan Nanjue’s gaze landed on Bai Wan, noticing that she seemed to be in a very good mood. Although there was no obvious change in her expression, Yan Nanjue could inexplicably sense a shift in the atmosphere surrounding her.

What happened to make her happy?

She looked at Yan Zhi, who leaned in and whispered a report of what they had done. Yan Nanjue listened—it was just trivial things like feeding fish. She didn’t hear anything suspicious.

After dinner, Grandma Yan called Bai Wan to the tea room and presented the bracelet in front of both of them. Bai Wan glanced at the high-quality, priceless jade bracelet without lingering. No matter how precious a thing was, it couldn’t hold her gaze—not to mention she had owned the best.

Bai Wan took the item and offered a flat thank you.

Suddenly, the soft flesh of her arm was pinched. Bai Wan turned her head expressionlessly, her downcast eyes almost overflowing with murderous intent, wanting to see who was so foolish as to seek death.

Yan Nanjue whispered a warning into her ear: “Put it on. Grandma gave it to you.”

The one seeking death was a dead person. No—a dead person who had come back to life but still didn’t know any better.

Bai Wan’s brow quirked slightly, her emotions faint. She never lifted her gaze as she silently put on the translucent white jade bracelet. It felt heavy on her wrist. As she lowered her arm, the bracelet caught on the protrusion of her wrist bone.

It was dark by the time they left the ancestral home.

In the car, Bai Wan’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She felt an uncontrollable urge to sleep. Her heart tightened; she realized this was a premonition of her “past self” waking up.

The previous few times had been like this: after she fell asleep, she would revert to her past self. She couldn’t say for sure when “current” her would wake up again.

Bai Wan clenched her palms, resisting the urge to succumb to sleep. Upon returning to the villa, she hurried to her room, casting aside all unimportant people and matters. She locked the door, her vision already beginning to black out. She was so tired she could barely stand.

No, I can’t sleep yet.

Bai Wan’s gaze swept around the room. She wrapped a towel around a glass and soundlessly shattered it. Picking up a shard with her left hand, she slowly tightened her grip.

Sharp pain and the metallic scent of blood surged instantly, jolting her drowsy brain awake. Blood trickled down her palm and onto the floor—drip, drip—quickly forming a small puddle.

A bargain well worth it: a brief moment of clarity and a warning to her “other” self in exchange for pain.

Bai Wan didn’t even flinch. She found her diary and used her right hand to scribble something quickly. Before she could finish, her vision went dark. Her grip loosened, and the pen rolled off the desk and onto the floor.

With a soft thud, her upper body slumped onto the desk as she lost consciousness completely. The hand clutching the broken glass went limp, and the crimson blood continued to drip down, so quietly that it went unnoticed.

Outside the room, Yan Nanjue, who had just reached the stairs on this floor, asked: “System, did you hear a sound?”

The System, which had just finished its self-check, shook its head. 【No.】

“How is your program?” Yan Nanjue asked curiously. “Did you find out where the virus came from? Is the impact big? Is it a serious problem?”

【One at a time,】 the System replied. 【The impact on my program isn’t large. It seems someone wrote some virus code for fun and it was accidentally released. I scanned with A-City as the center. There are a few small operating bugs nearby, and two larger bugs in A-City, but their positions are moving too fast for me to capture. Based on its growth pattern, it’s harmless. It might just affect some unlucky NPC.】

【The strange thing is, this virus seems to have… integrated into this world. I can’t do anything about it for now. I’ll apply to lock down the world and catch it after your mission is over.】

“That’s good then.” Yan Nanjue breathed a sigh of relief for it. Then she asked: “Did you secretly curse me while you were on standby?”

【…? Why would I curse you behind your back?】 the System asked gently. 【Am I such a cowardly system? Don’t I just say things to your face?】

Yan Nanjue: “…” Point taken.

She walked to her own room. She and Bai Wan were on the same floor, but their rooms were far apart—one at the far south, one at the far east.

What on earth is Bai Wan so happy about? Yan Nanjue was baffled. It seemed to be the first time she had seen Bai Wan happy since transmigrating.

In the early hours before dawn, Bai Wan woke up.

She opened her eyes, her vision a blur. It took a long while for her thoughts and consciousness to return. She was slumped over the cold desk, with a faint sense of pain coming from somewhere her sluggish body couldn’t quite identify.

Bai Wan sat up slowly. Why am I at the desk?

Flashbacks of memories flickered through her mind. Bai Wan had a splitting headache and instinctively raised her hand to rub her temples. The scent of blood was brought to her nose.

The movement pulled at her injured left hand. The slightly clotted wound tore open, and blood began to flow again. The pain radiated from her palm.

Bai Wan frowned deeply, looking at her blood-stained left hand. When was I injured?

She had no way of knowing the answer. She found a clean handkerchief and roughly wrapped her left hand to stop the bleeding. Her gaze drifted past her palm to the open notebook on the desk.

There were several lines written there:

Sister’s heart condition is acting up, save her.

Find time to see the Dean, ask her for the thing from the last meeting.

Stay away from the drunk Yan Nanjue, don’t smile in front of her.

And Su Changyin.

The final words were distorted, as if written while enduring something. The last character of the name “Changyin” was almost unrecognizable.

Bai Wan froze. …This is my handwriting.

But when did she write this?

Bai Wan’s heart pounded. Looking at these lines, a wave of groundless panic rose in her heart. She unconsciously clenched her hand; the pressure on the wound in her left palm caused more blood to seep out, quickly staining the handkerchief.

She didn’t care. Her entire attention was drawn to the notebook.

Fragmented memories flashed into her mind: she was feeding fish in the pavilion, her mood exceptionally good, even with a smile on her lips. The scene shifted to the tea room; Grandma Yan handed her a snow-white jade bracelet—the very one she was wearing on her left hand now.

The final memory fragment was of her tightly clutching a piece of broken glass.

Bai Wan was more confused than ever. Did I injure my own palm? Why?

And why did she write these things? Her sister’s heart condition, the Dean, Yan Nanjue…

And this name she had never heard of.

—Su Changyin. Who is this?