All the Female Protagonists Who Have Been Saved Have Become Obsessed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 49

After New Year’s, Wen Chao sat in Beixia’s classroom, flipping through their monthly exam papers.

He tsked at each page, finishing with a headache, “I knew your basics were weak, but this weak? I won’t talk about them, Beixia, what’s with your Chinese and English? How could you mess up such simple subjective questions? Don’t you know time’s running out?”

Beixia lowered her head, taking her paper. Wen Chao, helpless, turned to his other two students.

They flashed fawning smiles, “Little teacher…” hoping for mercy.

Wen Chao rolled up the papers, whacking them like moles, muttering, “And you two, didn’t I teach you that last math question? I even gave you variations. What’d you say then?”

“We got it, we won’t mess up next time!” Wen Chao mimicked them perfectly, “Now? Why’d you score zero? Were your brains eaten by pigs? Pigs might be smarter!”

The two ducked, fleeing. A laugh sounded. Cui Lin stood shyly at a desk, asking Wen Chao, “Little teacher, I don’t get this question. Can you help?”

Her voice was soft, her face timid, like a mimosa, her feelings obvious.

Wen Chao glanced, saying coldly, “I don’t manage you. Ask your teacher. I’m not responsible.” He muttered, “Three idiots are enough. I can’t handle another.”

Beixia glanced at Wen Chao. He felt a chill and shut up.

Cui Lin’s face paled, hands twisting. Wen Chao couldn’t resist, puzzled, “Why’re you standing there? You’re blocking the light.”

Since Zhao Wenyan became Class 12’s teacher, seats weren’t fixed. Good or bad students rotated. Beixia finally left the door spot, now in group three. Cui Lin, in the aisle, blocked window light.

Wen Chao spoke plainly, but Cui Lin thought he called her fat. Her girlish feelings crushed, she ran off, eyes red.

Wen Chao, baffled, didn’t care about others’ issues, pointing at the papers, frustrated, “I’m a guaranteed-admission scholar. My reputation’s ruined by you! Watch out, I’ll make you pay!”

He rolled up his sleeves, showing fists and slight muscles.

Then, grinning, “Here’s the deal: every question I taught that you get wrong, five push-ups. Let’s see if you learn!”

They sighed but didn’t object.

Wen Chao lazily told Beixia, “Your language sense is awful. Do more reading comprehension.”

Beixia nodded.

Though taller, Wen Chao, scarred from Beixia’s dominance in first year, stayed polite. Her recent exam showed progress from effort. He awaited her shine, trusting his former teammate wouldn’t lag long.

After dinner, during a break, Wu Huimin returned with a big snack bag. Before evening study, she opened chips, sharing. Beixia worked, listening, pausing for interesting topics.

They talked about adulthood. Wen Chao said his family sent him to driving school for his, spending weekends there. Wu Huimin got a long-wanted gift. The other two weren’t adults yet. Eyes turned to Beixia, who shook her head.

Beixia wrote an answer, pausing, realizing her birthday neared.

An 18th birthday rite? Did it mean growing up?

At home, Zhou Xi was there.

Post-New Year’s, Zhou Xi’s work normalized.

Her station’s three-month probation ended early; she got a month’s notice to go permanent, now writing her report.

Seeing Zhou Xi, Beixia’s lips curved. Zhou Xi glanced up, then down, “Back.” Casually.

“Mm,” Beixia replied.

“Hungry? Kitchen’s got food,” Zhou Xi said.

“A bit.” Beixia dropped her bag, checking the kitchen.

Zhou Xi loved spicy—hotpot, barbecue, mala. Today, it was mala, cold, with congealed duck bl00d and veggies.

Beixia washed her hands, reheating it, poking her head out, “You eating?”

Zhou Xi looked up, “Yes!”

She hadn’t eaten much, dining with HR, talking work, not food.

Beixia warmed the meal. Zhou Xi stretched, set her laptop aside, grabbed bowls and chopsticks. Beixia brought food; Zhou Xi set the table. Perfect teamwork.

Beixia ate quietly, only speaking after, “Teacher said to get IDs.”

Zhou Xi frowned, “You don’t have one?”

Beixia nodded.

She was young. In first year, she planned to get it, but her parents’ accident delayed it. With exams six months away, needing ID and admission ticket, teachers urged preparation.

Zhou Xi asked, “Your household register…” She recalled meeting Beixia with just a backpack.

They exchanged silent looks. Beixia said softly, “At my uncle’s.”

Her register was on the old book, untransferred. Her uncle held it, handling funeral matters.

Zhou Xi frowned. Asking Bei Dawei was impossible—they’d clashed. He wouldn’t hand it over easily, but no register, no ID.

Zhou Xi said, “Pick a day to take leave. I’ll check with authorities.”

“Not asking uncle?” Beixia asked.

Zhou Xi grinned, “I’ve got tricks.”

If needed, they’d reissue, though it’d be a hassle.

Zhou Xi spent days calling departments about Beixia’s case.

For an ID, a household register was needed. Without it, reissuing required proof.

Zhou Xi consulted the local committee, got Beixia’s proof, reissued the register, then got the ID.

By the time the ID was ready, the Lunar New Year neared, February 10, four days from Valentine’s. Helping with the ID, Zhou Xi learned Beixia’s birthday was Valentine’s.

This year, just them. Zhou Xi’s station closed on New Year’s Eve; Beixia was still in school.

On New Year’s Eve, Zhou Xi bought festive goods, then picked up Beixia.

Beixia’s finals went well. Zhou Xi pondered celebrating.

Without phones, contact was inconvenient. Zhou Xi skipped a phone, fearing it’d distract Beixia before exams, giving her a kids’ smartwatch instead.

The watch’s calls were clear, with WeChat and GPS.

Beixia: …

Days from adulthood, she got a kids’ watch but smiled, accepting Zhou Xi’s kindness.

Zhou Xi swapped its straps for variety.

Beixia didn’t care much.

Zhou Xi’s trunk was stuffed with New Year goods, Beixia beside her, buckled in. Zhou Xi drove, asking, “Did your uncle look for you?”

Before New Year, court opened once. Bei Dawei’s outbursts led the judge to demand evidence. Zhou Xi’s lawyer, aided by the system, had solid proof.

No ruling yet; Zhou Xi expected a long process.

Beixia paused buckling, clicking it in, “He came. I ignored him.”

Zhou Xi, with the system, knew but hadn’t heard from Beixia until now.

Bei Dawei pestered Beixia at school. Security spotted him. Beixia stayed inside, leaving with classmates to avoid him. He gave up.

Zhou Xi worried, “After New Year, I’ll drive you to school.”

“No need,” Beixia refused. “You’re busy. Don’t worry. My classmates walk with me. He won’t do anything.”

Zhou Xi ruffled Beixia’s head.

Home.

Zhou Xi learned basic cooking online—beginner recipes.

She couldn’t cook but managed steaming, buying a scale to follow videos precisely.

Beixia, seeing Zhou Xi’s “cooking gadget,” laughed.

Tying an apron, she said, “I’ll cook today.”

Zhou Xi pouted, “I studied videos for ages!”

“Ever tried?” Beixia asked.

Zhou Xi faltered, “Not really.” Quietly.

“What’re you making? Let me see.” Beixia leaned to check Zhou Xi’s phone menu.

New Year’s dinner wasn’t until evening. The afternoon was clear. They stood in the kitchen long. Beixia made dumpling filling. In the north, no dumplings meant a wasted year.

Zhou Xi’s pretty hands fumbled at dumplings. Compared to Beixia’s neat rows, hers were lopsided. Zhou Xi frowned, face crumpling like a bun, asking Beixia, “Can we eat these?”

Hours before dinner, Beixia boiled some. Zhou Xi’s dumplings fell apart into noodle soup. Eating Beixia’s, Zhou Xi sighed, “The dumplings are against me!”

Eating, she searched for a dumpling maker online, ordering eagerly.

At eight, the Spring Festival Gala began. Beixia, busy all afternoon, made a table of dishes. They toasted to the show.

“Happy New Year!” Zhou Xi smiled.

“Happy New Year!” Beixia smiled back.

They ate slowly. Dishes cooled, the gala bored. Zhou Xi asked, “Wanna set off fireworks? I bought some this morning.”

Beixia decided, “Let’s go!”

In late winter, it was freezing. Fully bundled, they drove to the river.

Many were setting off fireworks. Zhou Xi watched others, then took out hers—poppers, sparklers, various firework sticks. They lit them, silver blooms lighting the night.

Zhou Xi gave Beixia sparklers. They drew silver arcs in the dark, fading. Beixia’s best New Year.

Back home, Zhou Xi munched snacks, downed half a bottle of wine, relaxing, head sliding onto Beixia’s shoulder.

“Sleepy,” she mumbled. Before midnight, for staying up, she dozed.

Beixia watched TV, its sound echoing. Zhou Xi’s eyes drooped shut. The room quieted, only the TV spoke, “The new year approaches. Let’s count down: ten, nine, eight…”

Beixia’s eyelids trembled. Her lips brushed Zhou Xi’s forehead, seemingly by chance.

“Three, two, one! Happy New Year!”

The TV chimed, hosts spouting blessings, singing, dancing. Zhou Xi’s eyes opened, puzzled, looking up at Beixia’s pale chin. Was it her imagination?

“Time to sleep,” Beixia said.

Zhou Xi sat up, firecrackers booming outside. She shouted, “Hope you get into a great school!”

Beixia’s lips curved, “Good.” She nodded.

Zhou Xi rushed over, hugging her.

Beixia didn’t hesitate, arms on Zhou Xi’s back, holding tight.

If anyone mattered most now, it was Zhou Xi.

This New Year, with Zhou Xi, Beixia was happy.

Zhou Xi rubbed Beixia’s cheek, letting go. Firecrackers stopped after ten minutes. Exhausted, mind blank, she crashed into bed, asleep.

In the living room, Beixia took Zhou Xi’s blanket, sniffing its strong scent of her, touching her lips, smiling faintly.

February 14 was Beixia’s birthday. Zhou Xi puzzled over how to celebrate.

An adulthood rite marked maturity’s start, though Beixia was already mature. Zhou Xi felt she only had more life experience. Grown, Beixia would be reliable.

After thinking, Zhou Xi bought high heels.

A sign of adulthood.

Valentine’s restaurants were hard to book. Zhou Xi pulled strings for a Western one, thinking Beixia’s birthday timing was clever—future partners wouldn’t forget both Valentine’s and her birthday.

On break, Beixia was swamped with homework, diving into papers daily. Zhou Xi saw her desk pile grow, proof of her effort.

Zhou Xi drank but never let Beixia. For her birthday, at the restaurant, Zhou Xi had the waiter pour two glasses, teaching Beixia to drink.

The restaurant’s vibe was elegant, men and women dressed extravagantly.

Beixia wore Zhou Xi’s gifted outfit. Under lights, Zhou Xi’s red lips and pale skin were elegantly captivating.

She swirled her glass, wine touching her lips, piano music accenting them. Sipping briefly, she smiled at Beixia, “When drinking out, stay safe. Flowers and candy can be traps.”

Beixia nodded, trying wine.

It wasn’t good—bitter, not tasty. Yet Zhou Xi often had a glass at night.

Adulthood? Beixia looked at her glass. She was an adult today.

She smiled, seeing a tiny Zhou Xi in the glass, like drinking her down, suddenly finding drinking fun.

Zhou Xi showed how to use cutlery. Beixia, having seen it on TV, moved precisely. Zhou Xi spoke softly; Beixia listened, her slim frame and lowered head graceful.

Zhou Xi chuckled, feeling Beixia had grown.

After, Zhou Xi planned a surprise, mysteriously taking Beixia somewhere to “see the world.”

Beixia looked up—bar.

Inside, the heat could ignite winter. Zhou Xi pulled Beixia in for exposure.

Zhou Xi thought, if others brought Beixia here, she’d panic—better she show her first.

Beixia frowned, thinking, “Does Zhou Xi like these places?”

Seeing men and women close in the dance area, her displeasure grew.

The dim lights hid it from Zhou Xi.

Ordering juice, Zhou Xi didn’t dance, just sat. Her clean aura and pretty face drew suitors. Beixia, sour-faced and young-looking, was ignored.

Watching Zhou Xi laugh with strangers, Beixia couldn’t take it, grabbed her hand, and pulled her out.

She demanded, “You like coming here?”

Zhou Xi: “It’s okay.”

“You come often?” Beixia pressed.

Zhou Xi: “Twice with colleagues. Nice vibe.”

Beixia sulked, “I don’t like this place!”

“Or you coming here!”

She stormed off, leaving Zhou Xi.

Zhou Xi chased, grabbing her hand, soothing, “Don’t be mad. I won’t come again. Just occasional drinks with colleagues.”

“I didn’t know,” Beixia said.

“Didn’t know you were out at places like this!” She fumed.

Beixia snapped, “You like being chased, flattered? Zhou Xi! Are you that kind of person?!”

Zhou Xi was stunned.

She didn’t expect a birthday to turn out like this.

Opening her mouth to explain, words felt futile.

Beixia, shocked by her own outburst, didn’t mean it, knowing Zhou Xi wasn’t like that. She was just angry others could approach Zhou Xi, while she couldn’t refuse them. With no defense from Zhou Xi, she got angrier, shaking off her hand, running.

“Hey! Beixia!” Zhou Xi chased.

Younger, Beixia outran her, vanishing.

Panicked, Zhou Xi remembered the smartwatch, checking its GPS. Beixia was a street away.

Her car at the bar, Zhou Xi ran back, driving to the signal.

Beixia slowed in an unfamiliar area, looking back—nobody.

Of course, why would Zhou Xi bother for a kid like her?

In the bar, Zhou Xi’s eyes sparkled with others.

She refused them, yet they lingered like flies, and Zhou Xi smiled.

Beixia saw their hungry gazes. Zhou Xi had to know, yet she smiled.

If Zhou Xi knew Beixia’s thoughts, she’d feel wronged.

Adult etiquette meant not offending strangers. Decisive for Beixia, Zhou Xi was usually laid-back—smiles were just courtesy.

Beixia walked slowly.

Rushing out, she forgot her coat, shivering in thin clothes.

Winter’s cold punished her, not Zhou Xi.

Zhou Xi glanced at Beixia’s bag and coat in the passenger seat, worried.

So cold, alone—what if something happened?

Heart racing, she hit two red lights, slamming the wheel, cursing her stupidity for taking Beixia there.

Zhou Xi blamed herself. Beixia sniffled, eyes red.

She loved Zhou Xi—so much she couldn’t bear her seeming close with others.

“Beixia!” Zhou Xi spotted her, heart aching.

Beixia, arms crossed, kept walking.

Zhou Xi parked, jumped out, grabbed her arm, “I was wrong. Don’t punish yourself, okay?”

Beixia saw Zhou Xi’s anxious face, tears falling, eyes red, a pale smile blooming.

“Zhou Xi, it’s not you. It’s me.”

It’s me for liking you, wanting you all to myself.

Beixia stood on tiptoes, gripped Zhou Xi’s arms, and kissed her lips.

Her cold lips hit Zhou Xi like a chill. Zhou Xi’s eyes widened, frozen.

“Zhou Xi, I like you.”

The confession was out.