All the Female Protagonists Who Have Been Saved Have Become Obsessed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 45

The diner filled with people, restless heat swirling among the crowd. The owner, menu in hand, flitted between tables like a butterfly.

The food came slowly. Beixia finished her water, staring at the money on the table, saying, “Uncle, I don’t need this money. Take it back. With so many people, I’m afraid it’ll get lost.”

She didn’t answer Bei Dawei’s words.

Bei Dawei scratched his head, “Then I’ll hold it for you. Ask when you need it.”

Beixia stayed silent.

She watched steam rise from her cup, silence spreading between them.

Bei Dawei looked at her, thinking she was the same as always. His wife said Beixia had changed, that outsiders were bullying them—impossible, he thought.

He’d known Beixia since she was little.

Bei Dawei relaxed a bit.

Feeling the money in his pocket, he thought if Beixia believed others’ instigation, this meeting wouldn’t be so calm. Kids couldn’t hide their feelings.

After a long wait, two dishes arrived.

Bei Dawei ordered spicy shredded potatoes and stir-fried eggplant, plus two bowls of rice. He called to Beixia and ate sloppily.

Beixia had no appetite.

She once thought her uncle was kind, unlike her harsh aunt. After her parents’ death, his rare warmth sustained her. Now, she saw he never truly cared.

They shared bl00d, but since her mother’s death, that bond was fragile.

Bei Dawei wiped his mouth with a napkin, saying, “Our family’s small. Your grandparents died early. Those people must be from your dad’s side, right? Don’t listen to them—they’re disloyal. When your parents’ bodies weren’t even cold, they wanted to split the estate, ahem, their belongings.”

He nearly slipped, mumbling, then shifted.

“They even wanted to send you to an orphanage. We weren’t gone—I fought for you. Don’t listen to their nonsense. You’re young, and they’re vile!”

Beixia watched his act. She barely recalled those days, only kneeling before her parents’ coffins, their pitying looks. Her uncle did step up amid the chaos—nobody wanted another mouth to feed, especially an older child.

The day of her parents’ burial, Beixia learned of so many unseen relatives, yet the world had no place for her. She was grateful for her uncle then, but that didn’t justify taking her parents’ estate or the house—her last tie to them, buried by him.

Beixia’s dark eyes studied Bei Dawei, as if listening intently or sizing him up.

Without a response, Bei Dawei’s voice faded. Scratching his head, he asked, “Why’re you looking at me?”

“Uncle, do you remember my mom?” Beixia asked suddenly, her dark eyes eerie under the diner’s fluorescent light.

Bei Dawei felt a chill. Beixia didn’t resemble her mother, but those eyes did. His sister was decent, knowing the Bei family was nearly gone. Beixia, her first child, took her mother’s surname to preserve it. Bei Dawei appreciated his brother-in-law for that. His sister, though reserved, was fierce, disliking his wife. Her husband mediated.

Bei Dawei envied his sister’s improving life, but tragedy struck fast.

Her husband’s family rejected Beixia because he died rushing back for her birthday, on that doomed flight. Her grandmother, grieving her son, fought anyone considering taking Beixia. The issue stalled, landing on Bei Dawei.

He didn’t want her either. A laborer, unlike his educated sister, married to a shrewish woman, he saw her family’s assets as a windfall.

He knew their house had a mortgage—his brother-in-law mentioned the burden—but didn’t expect its value to soar.

Bei Dawei’s family rented in the city, with a rural plot from his parents, unbuilt due to funds. With Beixia’s money, he built a house and parents’ tombs.

It was his sister’s filial duty, he thought.

Unable to resist, he pulled a crumpled cigarette pack from his pocket, lit one. The smoke stung. Amid puffs, Beixia heard him say, “I remember.”

Beixia lowered her head, heart sour.

Bei Dawei asked, “Miss your mom?”

Beixia nodded lightly. Bei Dawei, softened, took a drag, flicked ash, saying, “Missing her’s right. Shows you’ve got a heart.”

Who’s heartless? Beixia felt sorrow.

She didn’t want to discuss her parents with him—his words sickened her.

Winter darkened early. It was light earlier; now, post-meal, night fell. Bei Dawei donned his felt hat, raised his collar, saying, “I’m off. Study hard. Come for dinner this weekend—your aunt told me to invite you. Don’t forget.”

Beixia pursed her lips. Bei Dawei took it as agreement, waved, and rode off on his electric bike.

Beixia watched his figure in the night, eyes heavy with sadness.

During evening study, Beixia was distracted.

She didn’t join the movie upfront, staying at her desk, working on papers.

Teacher Zhao reviewed her grades, had teachers make a tailored test, assessed her level, and crafted a study plan to boost her scores before the exam. Beixia was swamped.

Wu Huimin planned to watch the movie, but the back’s lights blurred the board. Seeing Beixia stay, she loyally joined her, though less focused, scribbling, giggling at the film.

Beixia, undisturbed, lacked her usual focus.

After study hall, the cold deepened. Beixia packed, said goodbye to Wu Huimin, and headed home.

The streets glowed with Christmas spirit—shops’ windows bore festive stickers, clothing stores displayed ornaments. Beixia breathed warmth into her hands, walking slowly. Seeing light from their house, her heavy heart eased.

Zhou Xi stayed home, writing a column article. Noticing a new event, she added a tag and focused on lawyer talks, first via phone, then scheduling a firm visit. Free in the afternoon, she napped, ordered takeout, and watched a movie on the couch.

When Beixia returned, Zhou Xi was on her second film, giggling, tears from laughter.

Seeing Zhou Xi, Beixia relaxed, her afternoon’s anger at her uncle fading. Instead of studying in her room, she joined Zhou Xi on the couch, sharing a blanket, watching.

Zhou Xi didn’t think much, but felt Beixia’s closeness. Leaning her head on Beixia’s shoulder, they watched a heartwarming Christmas scene—a funny family reuniting.

Beixia glanced at Zhou Xi, drawn more to her than the movie. Zhou Xi’s long, thick lashes framed her eyes, hands clutching the blanket to her chin, legs curled, leaning fully on Beixia, trusting, small despite her height.

Movie done, Zhou Xi stretched, asking, “Hungry?”

Beixia noticed Zhou Xi’s most frequent question was about hunger. She shook her head.

“Not hungry?” Zhou Xi rubbed her stomach, cooing playfully, “But I am. Want instant noodles?”

Beixia nodded.

Zhou Xi cooked noodles; Beixia followed.

Zhou Xi added veggies, tomatoes, ham, and fried eggs, splitting it into two bowls. She ate happily—late-night soup was comforting.

Done, Zhou Xi slumped in her chair. Beixia, watching, smiled. Eating with Zhou Xi was joyful; her “not hungry” stomach growled.

Beixia finished her noodles, set down her chopsticks, saying, “My uncle came today.”

Zhou Xi sat up, serious, “What for?”

Beixia, “To check on me, probe about you, and invite me for dinner this weekend.”

Zhou Xi scoffed, “Now they’re nice? Where was that before?”

Beixia asked, “Should I go?”

Zhou Xi liked Beixia consulting her. Thinking, she said, “Go. Why not? I’ll bring the lawsuit papers—saves us finding them.”

Smiling at Beixia, “I’ve contacted a lawyer. We’ll sue in a few days. If they come to school, gauge their mood.”

Worried, “I’m afraid they’ll get desperate.”

Beixia nodded.

Seeing her so docile, Zhou Xi worried. She didn’t want to disrupt Beixia now, but action was needed. From what Zhou Xi knew, Beixia’s parents’ compensation was nearly spent—Bei Dawei built a house, tombs, and now the village planned an ancestral grave, likely pressuring him for more.

Small money was Lei Hua’s; big money, Bei Dawei controlled.

In her mind, Zhou Xi told the system, “Watch Beixia. If Bei Dawei or his wife approach, alert me.”

System: “Got it.”

Late, Beixia returned to her room, seeing her pillow missing—she’d slept with Zhou Xi last night. Stunned, the door opened. Zhou Xi poked her head out, “Not sleeping with me tonight?”

Zhou Xi’s invitation…

Beixia’s heart raced. Softly, “I’ll change and come.”

Zhou Xi prepped for bed, habitually reading a book or magazine. The bedside lamp cast yellow light. She resumed her reading.

Beixia entered, seeing Zhou Xi focused.

She moved lightly. Zhou Xi, awake, noticed, setting down her book, smiling, “Come here.”

Patting the bed, she waited. Beixia climbed in. Zhou Xi asked, “Sleep, or read like me? I’ve got novels and magazines.”

It was early for Beixia’s bedtime. Wanting more time with Zhou Xi—weekends meant Zhou Xi’s work would misalign their schedules—she said, “Novel.”

Zhou Xi fetched one, naming titles, asking Beixia’s preference.

Beixia picked one randomly. Zhou Xi smiled, “I like that one too.”

Her slender fingers pulled it out, closed the cabinet, and handed it to Beixia.

Beixia glanced at the cover—Zhou Xi’s books were hardcover, substantial.

Tapping it, it felt solid.

Noticing, Zhou Xi tucked in, smiling, “What?”

Beixia shook her head, “These books feel heavy.”

Zhou Xi nodded, “Yeah, but I prefer them.”

She admitted sheepishly, “They feel nicer to read, though the content’s the same.”

Laughing, “Hardcovers cost more than paperbacks, but I like them, so I bought lots blindly. Some weren’t as good as I thought—impulse buys.”

Beixia flipped through. Zhou Xi read carefully; pages stayed pristine.

She read quietly.

Zhou Xi glanced, enjoying the calm reading vibe.

Beixia was serene, steadying Zhou Xi. Having such a sister was great—she felt the joy of raising a kid. If all kids were like Beixia, parenting would be easy.

Late, Zhou Xi checked the time, “Time to sleep.”

Beixia handed her the book. Lying down, Zhou Xi stacked both books on the nightstand, turned off the lamp, darkening the room.

Zhou Xi’s small bedroom held a bed and wardrobe, packed full. She worked in the living room, bed against the wall—Beixia inside, wall on one side, Zhou Xi on the other.

Darkness amplified everything. Beixia buried her face in the quilt, hearing Zhou Xi shift, seeking a sleep position. Her leg brushed Beixia’s, then withdrew. Adjusting the quilt, patting her pillow, she settled sideways, breathing evening out.

Beixia faced her, feeling her breath.

Zhou Xi slept fast, out once her eyes closed. Beixia stayed still, listening, slowly extending her foot, touching Zhou Xi’s skin, feeling the warmth, then closing her eyes.

Morning, Zhou Xi woke first. Reaching out, she found Beixia curled beside her, face against her arm. Lifting the quilt, Zhou Xi chuckled—she looked like a puppy snuggling its owner.

Pushing Beixia, “Time to get up.”

Beixia stirred, soon alert.

Seeing their closeness, she bolted upright, blushing. Zhou Xi, puzzled, watched.

“Nightmare?”

“No… no…” Beixia stammered, eyes flicking to Zhou Xi’s collar, then away, face burning. She stood, “I’m going to the bathroom!”

“Huh? Oh.” Zhou Xi, confused, turned, puzzled.

Getting up, her pajama slipped, a collar button undone.

Zhou Xi glanced, rebuttoned casually, and made breakfast.

Mornings were simple.

Zhou Xi fried lunch meat and eggs, heated bread, and soaked oats. Yawning, she served breakfast, then Beixia washed up. By the time she returned, Beixia had eaten, grabbed her bag, and was leaving.

Zhou Xi, baffled, “So early today?”

Beixia mumbled, “Mm,” and left.

Outside’s chill cooled her burning face.

A pure high school girl, Beixia felt their body differences for the first time.

Blushing again, she shook her head—can’t think about it.

Zhou Xi lounged, nibbling, checking her phone. At work time, she took a cab.

At the station, a colleague returned her car keys, saying it was parked in the garage, thanking her.

The supplies were urgent, and Christmas Eve cabs were scarce—without Zhou Xi’s help, his work would’ve flopped.

Zhou Xi waved off the thanks.

At her desk, she met Yan Xu, coffee in hand from the break room, stopping to ask, “No fight with your sister? She’s young, in her teenage phase. Talk it out.”

Zhou Xi laughed, “No, you heard him—they’re just classmates.”

Yan Xu nodded, “Just be prepared.”

Zhou Xi rolled her eyes, “Yan, sometimes you’re asking for it!” She waved a fist; Yan Xu laughed, leaving with his coffee.

Monday mornings were busy. Zhou Xi discussed the New Year’s plan, approved by higher-ups. The team hustled—booking guests, preparing materials. Zhou Xi oversaw, aligning with Yan Xu.

They reviewed scripts; Yan Xu shared ideas, Zhou Xi agreed.

While Zhou Xi thrived at the station, Beixia worked hard at school.

Though accepted early, Wen Chao stayed at school, tutoring Beixia and two others during breaks or study halls. Beixia was easy to teach; they even debated a math problem’s second solution. With the monthly exam tomorrow, Wen Chao spun his pen, asking, “Confident?”

Beixia scribbled a second solution, pushing the paper, “Confident in what?”

“The exam!” Wen Chao nodded, seeing her confidence.

Glancing at her solution, he said, “Nice, but there’s a simpler way, using college knowledge. Want to know?”

Beixia looked at him. Wen Chao grinned innocently, “I’m accepted—can’t I study college stuff?”

Beixia lowered her head, “Write it.”

Wen Chao wrote it—concise, but skipping steps, which would lose points in high school exams. Beixia studied it, grasping his approach.

They discussed. Wen Chao’s other students gaped.

Student One nudged Student Two, whispering, “Why’s Beixia seem like a boss? We’re out of her league.”

Student Two nodded.

“Was she always this good?” another whispered.

“Dunno, wasn’t she last in class?” came the reply.

“What’re you talking about? Done your problems?” Wen Chao turned.

They jolted, smiling, “Little teacher, your problems are tough. We’re discussing.”

Wen Chao checked, sighing, “This is hard? Your basics are weak!”

They grinned sheepishly; Wen Chao explained patiently.

Sunlight streamed through the window. Beixia turned a page—another new day.

Today, Zhou Xi finalized the lawsuit with the lawyer, filing it. At noon, she reached Beixia’s school early to take her to lunch.

She’d mentioned it that morning, unworried about missing her.

Wu Huimin, hearing Beixia was eating out, sighed, “When will someone treat me? I’m sick of the cafeteria.”

Beixia stood, wrapping her scarf, face hidden, voice muffled, “What do you want? I can bring something back.”

Wu Huimin perked up, then waved, “Never mind, eat carefully. Exams this afternoon—don’t upset your stomach.”

Beixia nodded, heading to Zhou Xi.

Zhou Xi’s car was parked curbside, familiar to Beixia.

She got in. Zhou Xi beamed, “Let’s go.”

At a reserved restaurant, Zhou Xi showed Beixia the lawsuit.

“We’ve officially sued them.”

Zhou Xi lifted Beixia’s chin: So pure? Still dreaming of me?

Beixia covered her face, blushing red.