After Transmigrating into the Book, I Bent the Heroine O - Chapter 19

“Bzzzt!”

The sound of the chair legs scraping harshly across the floor rang out as He Lingxing directly tripped an unsuspecting Yu Fanhui. The girl in stilettos was caught off guard, nearly slamming into the corner of the bed. She only managed to steady herself by grabbing the bedside, standing up with a look of deep grievance directed at the suddenly explosive He Lingxing.

“Lingxing / Sister Lingxing…”

The voices of her parents and Yu Fanhui rang out simultaneously. The arm the girl had reached out with was now firmly gripped by He Lingxing. With the strength of a top-tier Alpha who had undergone specialized training, Yu Fanhui stood no chance of resisting. She felt the hand on her forearm tighten like an iron shackle, and the pain made her gasp.

“Did I not warn you before?”

A mysterious irritation flared in He Lingxing’s heart. Even in front of her parents, she couldn’t suppress her temper. The pressure in her grip increased steadily, causing the tears to well up in Yu Fanhui’s eyes—this time, it wasn’t an act.

She felt like her arm was about to snap.

Any normal person would have stopped touching others after being warned once, but Yu Fanhui had become emboldened, relying on the favor of He Lingxing’s parents.

“It hurts, Sister Lingxing!”

Yu Fanhui’s carefully made-up face contorted with pain. Pinned by the grip, she could only vent her frustration vocally.

He Lingxing stared her down coldly for a moment. It wasn’t until Father He stepped forward that she abruptly let go. Yu Fanhui immediately “learned her lesson,” pulling her bruised hand back as far as possible.

Glancing back to see the look of disapproval in Mother He’s eyes, He Lingxing brushed back a stray lock of hair. “The company has some business; I’m heading back. I’ll come see you tonight. A fruit basket will be delivered later; Dad, please pick it up.”

Father He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately just waved her off, signaling for her to leave quickly.

As the sound of her heels faded into the distance, Mother He turned back to Yu Fanhui with an apologetic expression, whispering several “sorries.” Once He Lingxing was gone, the grievance on Yu Fanhui’s face dissipated significantly. She instinctively rubbed the dark bruise forming on her arm, her expression returning to its usual bright, sunny mask.

“It’s okay, Auntie. Lingxing has a short fuse. She’s probably just in a bad mood because of work; I understand.”

Seeing that the target of her interest had left, Yu Fanhui—whose “concern” for the mother was purely a pretext—had no desire to stay. “Please get some rest.” With a nod to Father He, she turned and closed the door behind her.

“A-Lan.” Sitting beside his wife after the two had left, Father He’s handsome face grew increasingly grave. His voice was dry and raspy. “Back then, we thought Lingxing would differentiate into an Alpha. The test reports said there was a high probability. We never expected this girl to turn out to be an Omega.”

Perhaps a normal family wouldn’t care about their child’s gender, but to them, even a high-level Omega would always stand a head shorter than an Alpha. Alphas were natural-born leaders; they could easily accomplish things an Omega simply couldn’t.

If He Lingxing refused to get close to Yu Fanhui, her “value” to the family would be negligible. Initially, they had brought Yu Fanhui around as a child hoping the two would become best friends. But after He Lingxing turned out to be an Omega, and with no other heir to support the family, the only path left was a political marriage.

“We won’t know what the one in your stomach is until they turn fifteen,” Zhou Lan sighed, her face pale from the pregnancy. Thinking of He Lingxing’s attitude toward Yu Fanhui, her anger flared again. “She should look in the mirror. Fanhui is pretty and of equal status; she’s a perfect match. How many Omegas stay unmarried at twenty-four? It’s all for the sake of an alliance—a woman is much safer than a man, isn’t she?”

Zhou Lan genuinely believed she was acting in He Lingxing’s best interest. “I have to wait fifteen years for this child to differentiate. If only I had conceived sooner…”

“Alright, I know what you mean. But Xingxing has been stubborn since she was little. She won’t realize how good she has it at home until she suffers a bit,” Father He said, patting his wife’s back. “Don’t let your anger affect the baby. Besides, both our family and Fanhui’s own entertainment companies. She’ll realize the benefits of this mutual industry support sooner or later.”

“If only she were half as sensible as Fanhui.”

Having lacked sleep for several days, He Lingxing didn’t get home until the middle of the night. She applied a sleep mask, sent the message to Shu Minglan that she hadn’t had time to send earlier, and shut off her phone to catch up on sleep.

The sleep was far from peaceful. She dreamt.

The scene wasn’t from any world she had visited before, but a memory that seemed deeply linked to this specific body.

It was dusk after a clear day. The sky was stained with the translucent crimson of a setting sun. Along the riverbank lined with weeping willows, she sat on the damp ground. Her bare feet playfully kicked clumps of mud into the water, splashing and scaring the clusters of small fish fry. The girl’s laughter was as clear as a bell, but it soon twisted into something else.

The scene shifted to a tiny, square room. Only a small crack allowed “her” to breathe. Opening her eyes, she could only capture blurred outlines in the dark. She clawed desperately, unable to break the shackles. The pressure on her chest grew heavier and harder until she could barely breathe. She tried to force her consciousness out of the prison, only to see her parents’ smiling faces.

He Lingxing sat bolt upright in bed.

Clear daylight filtered through the cracks in the curtains, casting a long, pale golden streak across the room. A pillow she had unconsciously clutched to her chest lay there, heavy with its filling.

He Lingxing’s sleeping posture had always been poor; she woke up with a dull ache in her waist, but her mind was much clearer. When she turned on her phone, it was flooded with WeChat messages and emails.

She made a phone call first.

A certain company had been negotiating a partnership for an IP. They preferred her company, but Yu Fanhui wanted it too. Because Yu Fanhui had sweet-talked the original host a few times, she had been hesitating on whether to let it go. With the memory surfacing this morning, He Lingxing directly ordered the department to finalize the IP contract today.

Let that woman watch a fat piece of meat slip through her fingers first.

The message she sent last night had been buried. She typed “Shu” into the search bar and clicked into the chat. The last message was her “Noted.” Shu Minglan hadn’t responded from 1:00 AM until 9:00 AM now.

For some reason, she felt irritable again.

However, there was too much work to do. After a quick wash, she headed to the office. Sitting at her desk, she saw a disposable insulated lunch box. On top of the box was a childishly cute drawing of a little bear, with a wide smile and a hand gesturing for her to eat. A sticky note was attached, the ink slightly blurred by the steam:

It’s cold. Please make sure this is delivered quickly. Please eat it as soon as you receive it; cold food is bad for the stomach. — by Miss Shu (Note)

It was corn and shrimp congee with a side of appetizers.

He Lingxing instinctively picked up the receipt she had just torn off and found the name of the breakfast shop Shu Minglan had recommended before. The congee was excellent, blending the sweetness of corn with the softness of the rice, while the savory shrimp prevented it from being bland.

Next to it was a delicate shengjian (pan-fried bun), sprinkled with green scallions. One bite revealed a savory, chewy pork filling. Her appetite was usually poor in the morning, but the portions were just right—filling without making her too sluggish for work.

He Lingxing sent Shu Minglan another invitation for dinner. This time, she got an immediate reply.

【Shushu】: I’m leaving this afternoon. Lunch is on set, so I won’t have time. Also, I’m on a diet now. [Image]

It was a photo of a digital scale.

Shu Minglan was about 165cm. For a woman of that height, weighing around 48kg would already be considered slender, but she was currently only 40kg. Many artists control their weight desperately for the camera, especially female stars.

But He Lingxing felt that being that light—while it looks good on screen—looks like you’d blow away in a stiff breeze in real life. She was about to type a reply when another call came in.

“CEO He!” The voice was the girl group’s female mentor, her tone frantic and nearly tearful. “Le Jiaxuan broke her leg, but we have a new promotion scheduled for this afternoon!”