I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 12

It was almost as if Jiang Qing was deliberately digging into Hou Xue’s past—with purpose and hostility.

But now, it was clear that Jiang Qing had only downloaded Snowman to play games.

Games made only by Hou Xue.

As Hou Xue slowly savored each dish, Jiang Qing watched closely to see which one stood out among the spread and won her favor.

In the end, it seemed that the sweet and sour ribs and squirrel-shaped fish were tied for first place, while the lemon shrimp and pineapple pie lagged slightly behind.

As for why everything was rich and meaty—well, that was purely Jiang Qing’s way of trying to fatten up the too-skinny Hou Xue.

“Tsk… it’s so sweet,” Jiang Xing puffed his cheeks and frowned. “What’s with the dark cuisine today?”

Jiang Qing smacked him lightly on the hand with her chopsticks, expressionless. “Don’t talk while eating.”

Jiang Xing had been hit right on the bone—it wasn’t hard, but it still hurt. He winced and sulkily lowered his head to eat.

“There’s nothing sweet in front of you. You just had to reach across the table,” Jiang Qing said, picking up a piece of braised pork ribs with the communal chopsticks and dropping it into Jiang Xing’s bowl.

Jiang Xing strongly suspected his sister was pulling the classic slap-and-sugar routine—but he didn’t mind. “Thanks, sis.”

After the meal, Jiang Xing pulled Jiang Qing aside and told her to come meet someone.

Jiang Qing patiently sat through the entire list of underperformers from Yangrui High’s senior class and identified two boys known to associate with shady figures outside of school.

She studied the two polished-looking faces in the photos, then stood up and patted Jiang Xing’s shoulder. “Tell your friend I said thank you.”

“You’re too polite, sis. He’s a close friend of mine.” Jiang Xing paused, carefully choosing his words. “Is this about Hou Xue…?”

Jiang Qing glanced back from the doorway, her eyes unreadable.

“Yes,” she said softly. “So, I thought about it—and decided not to go easy.”

Her voice was so quiet that Jiang Xing almost thought he imagined it.

“I wonder… can the Jiang family bear the cost of two lives?”

…

After finishing her homework, Hou Xue handed it to Jiang Qing and started working on mock exam papers.

Each time Hou Xue finished a paper, Jiang Qing would lean over to ask about the questions she got wrong.

Little by little, they finished going over the assignments. Then Hou Xue pulled a thick notebook out of her bag.

Something about it made Jiang Qing uneasy.

“This is extra work,” Hou Xue said. “Just do the first three questions each day—whenever you have time.”

She handed the notebook to Jiang Qing.

“Alright…” Jiang Qing’s lips twitched slightly.

Why was the heroine this responsible? She was practically the perfect tutor, complete with homework assignments.

“It’s important,” Hou Xue added. “These are my predicted exam questions.”

Jiang Qing froze for a second, staring at the notebook with wide eyes.

Predicted questions. By the heroine.

That meant—if she mastered these, finals would be a breeze.

“This is really valuable. Thank you,” Jiang Qing said, flipping through the pages and admiring the neat, precise handwriting. She felt a deep sense of respect—and guilt.

Organizing past papers was one thing. That didn’t take too much time. But handwriting so many mock questions must’ve eaten into Hou Xue’s personal hours.

“Honestly, you didn’t have to go this far,” Jiang Qing said, closing the notebook and meeting Hou Xue’s eyes. “I know exactly what I’ve done in the past. I’m grateful you’re helping me—but there’s no need to was—”

Hou Xue gently cut her off, “I’m not doing this entirely for you.”

That caught Jiang Qing off guard. She was momentarily at a loss for words, letting Hou Xue continue.

“I was the one who suggested tutoring. I’m just fulfilling my promise.”

“You never said you’d help me with exams, only that you’d tutor me.”

“And tutoring assumes that your previous study methods no longer work,” Hou Xue explained. “So, unless your grades return to—or exceed—your past performance, I haven’t fulfilled my end of the deal. Besides, you already have the materials. Your hesitation is meaningless.”

Jiang Qing furrowed her brow, trying to recall the exact words Hou Xue had used when they first discussed this.

She had been too dazed—and too excited—to fully take in the conversation.

After a while, Jiang Qing relented. “Alright. I guess I have no reason to refuse. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Miss Jiang,” Hou Xue said with a smile. “If anything, I should be the one thanking you. Though I’ve never said it.”

Jiang Qing couldn’t stand it when Hou Xue smiled like that. She’d noticed it before—her resistance crumbled too easily around this girl.

“No need. Think about it—I’ve done plenty of terrible things,” Jiang Qing muttered, looking away.

Hou Xue’s smile faded.

She was accepting blame that wasn’t hers.

That made Hou Xue uncomfortable. It was like a clear spring flowing around a mud-covered stone. The water couldn’t abandon it, so it tried to cleanse the mud away itself.

“Thank you, Miss Jiang,” Hou Xue said stubbornly, still using the formal title—light and casual, as if it were nothing.

Jiang Qing tightened her grip on the notebook.

Why bring this up now? And why did it sound… off?

Was it sarcasm? Sincerity? Jiang Qing didn’t know anymore. She ended the topic with a pause, “It’s getting late.”

Hou Xue had already slipped one hand into her jacket pocket. At Jiang Qing’s words, she quickly pulled it back out.

Her fingertips were red—who knew what she’d been touching?

“Mm,” she replied, grabbing her bag and heading out with no intention of lingering.

Jiang Qing watched her go, mouth opening as if to call out—yet no good reason came to mind.

Only when Hou Xue turned left and vanished from view did Jiang Qing realize—too late—that she had lost something.

Feeling uneasy, she opened Snowman.

This time, the little snowman hadn’t leveled up—because Jiang Qing barely played before clicking into the chat.

“I finally made up with my friend, but I think I upset her again.”

“What did Licht do?” the bot replied instantly.

“I just felt like I didn’t deserve her thanks.”

“I did a lot of awful things in the past. I just… want to make things right.”

Jiang Qing typed slowly, frowning.

She knew her intentions were genuine—but something felt… incomplete.

What was missing?

The heroine in her youth had always been so gentle, so soft-hearted. How could she forgive so easily?

In the original story, even when the Jiang family fell later, Hou Xue never sought revenge on Jiang Qing. It was like none of it had mattered to her.

But Jiang Qing couldn’t simply let it go. The original Jiang Qing had hurt Hou Xue—really hurt her. At least, she couldn’t forgive that so easily.

In the dark, her phone screen cast a dim light, illuminating Hou Xue’s pale, unreadable face.

She stared at the two lines of text, lost in thought. After a long while, she licked her dry lips and typed:

“What is it that Licht wants to make right?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Her eyes were deep, almost blending into the night—but just then, something sparkled in them, like faint stars in a dark sky.

“Then Licht must really care about that friend.”

“Of course. She’s wonderful.”

“Then accept it. Accept your friend’s kindness.”

Jiang Qing didn’t reply.

Hou Xue kept typing:

“Licht’s friend must like Licht a lot, too. That’s why she’s so kind to her.”

Still no response.

Hou Xue shut off her phone, plunging the room back into darkness.

She pulled out two tickets, tracing the glossy surface with her fingers, her eyes thoughtful and downcast.

…

On Saturday evening, Hou Xue approached Jiang Qing with an invitation.

“My friend gave me some tickets,” she said. “Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Will you come with me?”

Friend?

Jiang Qing was a little puzzled but didn’t ask. She hesitated for maybe three seconds. “Sure.”

Hou Xue simply looked at her.

That look made Jiang Qing uneasy. She added, “Th-thanks?”

Hou Xue raised an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

The next morning, Jiang Qing came down to breakfast just as Hou Xue descended the stairs.

The table was set with a traditional Chinese breakfast. The thick porridge and soup dumplings reminded Jiang Qing of last week, when Hou Xue had brought her breakfast.

Today, Hou Xue wasn’t wearing her usual white shirt, but a loose-fitting black robe that hid her slender frame and made her look even more delicate.

Hou Xue wasn’t short, but she looked tiny—like a porcelain doll with a palm-sized face that was deceptively small.

Still far too thin.

Jiang Qing had spent the past week trying to feed her well with hearty meals, but it didn’t seem to be working. Hou Xue hadn’t gained any visible weight, and it’s not like she was exercising a lot either.

Could it be… overuse of mental energy?

Jiang Qing couldn’t figure it out. Absentmindedly, she scooped a spoonful of steaming porridge and popped it into her mouth—only to burn herself, as expected.

But once it was in, she had no choice but to swallow it. Her throat throbbed with pain, bringing tears to her eyes.

As Hou Xue walked over and prepared to sit down, she saw Jiang Qing’s reddened eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her mouth was slightly open, gasping for breath, the tip of her soft, pink tongue just visible.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Jiang Qing shut her eyes and a few tears slid down her cheeks. She hurried to wipe them away.

Losing composure this early in the morning was embarrassing. It was a matter of pride—as an older sister.

But Hou Xue acted like she hadn’t seen anything. She said nothing.

It was true—their relationship wasn’t yet at the point where they could joke around like that.

Their meals were always quiet. Every Sunday, Jiang Xing disappeared early. His presence wouldn’t have changed much, but somehow, with him there, breakfast felt more like a regular family meal—without any underlying tension.

After breakfast, Jiang Qing asked for the time and place. When Hou Xue named the shopping mall, Jiang Qing suggested they head out early—after all, it wasn’t every day she got to wander a mall.

Hou Xue agreed without hesitation. She always did.

Whatever Jiang Qing said—she followed. Not even a pause to think.