All the Female Protagonists Who Have Been Saved Have Become Obsessed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 31.2

Hua Yun said love could scare or repel. Chunshui’s job was to make Zhou Xi used to her, unafraid of her buried love, and eventually accept it.

Did Zhou Xi love her? Chunshui didn’t know but felt it didn’t matter. She’d make her love her someday.

Chunshui let go, smiling, “Goodbye, Zhou Xi.”

It was the first time she used Zhou Xi’s full name, not Doctor Zhou. Zhou Xi waved, “Goodbye.”

Chunshui grabbed her bag, closed the door, and blocked Zhou Xi’s view.

Staring at the door, Zhou Xi felt suffocated, clutching her chest, cursing herself.

When Chunshui was here, she felt bothered. Now gone, she missed her, though she hadn’t even left the country—just this room.

Zhou Xi drifted to the window, scanning for Chunshui’s car.

Chunshui’s car was low-key, a white Volkswagen with an ordinary plate. Zhou Xi first thought it was her assistant’s, not a star’s car.

A white car left the hospital. Zhou Xi’s gaze lingered.

At the gate, Chunshui lowered her window, glanced at Zhou Xi’s room, and drove off.

After Chunshui left, Zhou Xi went back to work.

After a day’s shift, she stared at her phone. Last night, she slept poorly, waking to stare at where Chunshui’s mat had been.

Her room was small, just fitting a bed. Zhou Xi had told Chunshui not to sleep there—plenty of hospital rooms available—but Chunshui insisted, worried Zhou Xi might need care. Zhou Xi had grown used to her presence.

At night, she heard Chunshui’s soft breathing; in the bathroom, Chunshui stood guard; her hand always poked Zhou Xi’s belly… Barely a few days together, yet full of memories.

Zhou Xi eyed her phone, wondering if it was broken.

With Chunshui’s control-freak nature, could she resist calling?

She lit the screen, turned it off, checked the network—all fine, no messages.

It was like she’d vanished.

Zhou Xi pursed her lips. No call, no call. She didn’t miss her.

One day, two, three…

On the fourth day, Zhou Xi couldn’t hold back, asking the system, “What’s Chunshui doing?”

“Working.”

Zhou Xi slumped.

Toying with her phone, “That busy?”

Too busy to call?

Zhou Xi slapped her phone on the table.

Wasn’t the phone invented for communication? Why wasn’t Chunshui contacting her? Saying she’d miss her, yet not a single message.

Overseas, Chunshui finished filming, glanced at her phone. Her assistant handed her water. She sipped from a thermos, asking, “Any calls?”

“You mean Mr. Fang’s call?” Huang Xiaoyun asked.

“You were filming, so I told him to call later.”

Chunshui shook her head, then nodded, “Give me the phone.”

Huang Xiaoyun handed it over. Chunshui checked messages.

Huang Xiaoyun found it odd.

Lately, her boss kept checking her phone, asking about calls after each scene. Who was so important she wouldn’t name? Keeping her glued to her phone?

Chunshui saw no calls or messages from Zhou Xi.

Was Zhou Xi having too much fun without her?

Chunshui itched to call but recalled Hua Yun’s advice.

[Let her get used to you, then keep distance. If she calls or messages, you can move forward.]

Chunshui clutched her phone, praying against her forehead.

Doctor Zhou…

Her phone rang.

Chunshui froze, lowering it to check.

It was Fang Yan.

Her lips tightened, disappointed.

“Hello.”

“Boss,” Fang Yan’s voice brimmed with excitement, “Li Xia signed the contract!”

Chunshui’s voice was flat, “Good.”

Fang Yan hesitated, “Aren’t you happy, boss?”

“No, you did well,” Chunshui praised. “Keep watching…”

Her phone buzzed with a new call.

Chunshui’s breath lightened. Seeing the expected caller, she hung up on Fang Yan.

Fang Yan: “Boss, what did you say…”

Beep… click…

Fang Yan stared at his phone, silent. He tried again—line busy.

Chunshui answered. No sound came from the other end, as if they were competing to see who’d speak first, the loser conceding. Chunshui laughed softly, “Why so quiet?”

Zhou Xi, slumped on the table, drew circles with her finger. Chunshui’s voice sent a tingle through her ear. She sat up, holding the phone farther, “Not busy today?”

“Busy. Just finished filming. Director said I can rest,” Chunshui said.

“You?” Chunshui asked.

“Same old. You know the hospital,” Zhou Xi said.

But I want to hear you say it, Chunshui thought.

She chuckled into the phone, voice soft and lingering, “Doctor Zhou, don’t overwork. You just recovered. Don’t tire yourself.”

Zhou Xi couldn’t resist scratching her ear, then pressed it back to the phone, not wanting to miss Chunshui’s breaths, “Just small tasks, not tiring. You’ve seen the head nurse—sharp tongue, soft heart. She watches me like a hawk.”

“I know,” Chunshui laughed. “I called her two days ago, told her to keep you in line.”

“No way, you…” Calling the head nurse but not me!

Zhou Xi was about to fume, then felt it was too obvious. She huffed, “I knew it! The head nurse has been eyeing me like a thief, nagging about takeout. Uncle Wang in the cafeteria keeps giving me hurt looks, saying he’s old and useless, his food worse than takeout. All your doing, right?”

Chunshui chuckled, “Caught me? Doctor Zhou’s sharp! They’re my spies. If you don’t eat right, I’ll get reports!”

Zhou Xi laughed too, “Look at you, bribing my whole hospital.”

Chunshui smiled, “With a stubborn dean, no wonder they trust me.”

“So I’m not trustworthy?” Zhou Xi turned the tables.

“You’re very trustworthy, Doctor Zhou,” Chunshui’s voice was full of trust. “I’m your most trusting patient.”

“You’re discharged,” Zhou Xi said. “You’re not my patient anymore.”

“No way,” Chunshui lowered her eyes. “I left something with you. I can’t be discharged.”

“What?” Zhou Xi thought she meant an actual item. “I’ll look.”

“Doctor Zhou, I left my heart with you. Can you send it over if you find it?” Chunshui said earnestly.

Zhou Xi’s heart raced. She clutched her chest, feeling suffocated, as if drowning in seawater, her breaths lengthening.

Holding her breath, she stammered, “I-Is that so?”

Chunshui laughed, “Just kidding, Doctor Zhou.”

Zhou Xi laughed awkwardly, forgetting what she’d mumbled, and hung up with a click.

She clutched her chest, thinking, who taught Chunshui this? Nearly giving her a heart attack.

On the other end, Chunshui sighed, setting down her phone. Not enough—Doctor Zhou still didn’t like her enough.

As Hua Yun said, confession was a natural flow, not a battle cry. Her eagerness would only scare Zhou Xi away. To catch a skittish cat, you lure it with food until it enters the cage willingly.

Her initial goal achieved, Chunshui happily messaged Hua Yun, “Thanks.”

Hua Yun, receiving it, knew Chunshui was progressing. She hugged Tina tightly, kissing her cheek. They were on a boat, sea shimmering, gulls circling, dolphins surfacing in the distance. Tina turned, kissing Hua Yun’s lips.

Zhou Xi tossed her phone, patting her cheeks, heat lingering.

She muttered, “For real?”

Not a joke, but romance needed a Bureau report.

Zhou Xi fretted. Should she return to HQ for a report?

But her task wasn’t done, and the realm gate couldn’t open casually.

She could only hope Chunshui’s filming went smoothly, the movie released successfully, and she’d complete her task, return, and file a romance report.

Zhou Xi also had to tackle Li Xia. Though Chunshui said she didn’t need help, Zhou Xi could assist secretly, ensuring Chunshui’s plan succeeded and Li Xia stopped interfering.

Snapping her fingers, Zhou Xi had an idea.

She had the system compile Leading Entertainment’s tax records, then sent an anonymous tip to the tax bureau. That’d keep Li Xia busy.

Li Xia was swamped since Wang Shan’s arrival.

As an illegitimate daughter, she wasn’t valued by the family, only doted on by her father. But after her brother learned she’d helped Wang Shan, he began financially choking her.

Hit where it hurts, Lingdong Group drained Leading Entertainment’s funds, redirecting them elsewhere.

Leading Entertainment was a child compared to Lingdong Group. Li Xia’s talent-grabbing spree was throttled by cash flow. Failing the bet-on agreement meant leaving with nothing.

Li Xia shivered. Then the tax bureau started auditing.

Already overwhelmed, Li Xia was stretched thinner, with no time to target Chunshui.

Her face darkened, recent setbacks fueling her temper.

Everything she had was given, easily taken back. If the money was hers?

Li Xia pulled a contract from her drawer.

No matter. If the bet failed, she had this.

As long as she slowly siphoned company funds, no one would notice.

Fang Yan: Hello? Boss? You forgot me?