I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 16

Hou Xue stared at the younger version of herself—already about the same age as she was now—and fell silent for a long time.

Then, she nodded.

“Xiao Xue… how long has it been since you last called me Mom?”

Cao Fenlan burst into tears again without warning. Her thoughts were in complete disarray—tangled and incoherent. Often, what she said in one sentence bore no relation to the next, not even emotionally.

Hou Xue just looked on calmly, without thinking much of it and with no intention of responding.

“I’m in so much pain. It hurts. I want to leave—I want to get away from here.”

“I loved your father. I loved Hou Jingjun. I didn’t love you, Xiao Xue. I never did. But I still brought you with me. Do you know why?”

“Because you reminded me so much of Hou Jingjun—even when you were little. I wanted to love you, so I could go on loving him.”

“I know.” Hou Xue’s eyes were half-closed, her gaze unfocused. She was still dreaming. “I know.”

“We could have had a better life—here, with the Jiang family.”

“…Jiang Bin loves me, but he doesn’t love you.”

A cool hand suddenly pressed gently against Hou Xue’s face. It wasn’t warm—but cold enough to soothe the feverish heat on her skin.

It wasn’t Jiang Qing.

That thought made Hou Xue freeze.

The hand’s owner must have sensed her tension and quickly pulled away.

“She’s running a bit of a fever,” came a woman’s voice—soft, as if trying to comfort someone. “It’s alright. I’m fine.”

“Mmm. If you’re upset, I’ll be heartbroken.” The man beside her spoke in a low voice. His words sounded like they should carry emotion, but they were utterly devoid of it.

Still, the woman blushed sweetly, as if his words had hit a tender spot. “I know,” she murmured.

When Jiang Qing walked in with a bowl of soup, she was startled to find two extra people in the room.

She nearly spilled the soup.

The man turned his head first.

When Jiang Qing saw his face, she hesitantly asked, “…Dad?”

“Mm.” Jiang Bin gave her a brief glance, then turned back to continue flirting with his lover.

Though “flirting” wasn’t exactly the right word. There was something odd about the atmosphere between the two—no matter how sweet their words and actions seemed, it all felt like a performance.

Jiang Bin’s voice lacked any emotional inflection, while Cao Fenlan’s enthusiasm was clearly forced.

What even was this? Jiang Qing felt completely thrown off.

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, it seemed like everyone in this building was a bit… off.

Cao Fenlan and Hou Xue looked quite alike—at least 70–80% similar. Both were stunning beauties, but Cao Fenlan had a more mature air, while Hou Xue still carried a youthful edge.

Good genes, no doubt. Despite her age, Cao Fenlan looked refined and graceful—strikingly beautiful in an elegant, almost ethereal way.

Their temperaments were also alike—every gesture steeped in a kind of natural poise and nobility, regardless of background.

“Hello, Auntie Cao.” Jiang Qing offered an awkward smile and walked over to the bed, trying to wake Hou Xue.

Weird or not, she didn’t care. She just wanted Hou Xue to get better—fast.

“Xiao Qing, what a good girl you are,” Cao Fenlan said, eyes fixed on her. “With you here, I can rest easy knowing you’re taking such good care of Xiao Xue.”

As she spoke, she suddenly reached out and grabbed one side of the soup bowl.

Jiang Qing blinked, confused.

“Let me feed Xiao Xue. No need to trouble yourself.” Cao Fenlan took the soup, stirred it gently with a spoon.

“…Thank you, Auntie.” Jiang Qing stepped aside.

She could understand the hostility. After all, the original Jiang Qing had treated her daughter terribly. Of course Cao Fenlan wouldn’t just let her get close to Hou Xue.

But this sudden show of motherly concern felt way too fake. She hadn’t even said a word in Hou Xue’s defense before.

Hou Xue stirred from her dream.

And opened her eyes—just in time to see the final scene play out.

Cao Fenlan, holding the bowl, smiling gently, cooed, “Have some soup, Xiao Xue.”

Hou Xue had never once been cared for by Cao Fenlan when she was sick. This was out of character.

Her fever-hazed mind churned slowly.

So… this was the persona Cao Fenlan had built in front of Jiang Bin: the gentle, dutiful wife.

How unfair… Cao Fenlan had recovered.

What about her?

Hou Xue felt the urge to laugh—and in fact, she did.

“Alright,” she rasped. Just a single word, but it sounded like an old, rusted bow being drawn.

Jiang Qing frowned at the sound of that laugh.

What was she smiling about? Because of Cao Fenlan?

Spoonful by spoonful, Cao Fenlan fed her, and Hou Xue drank quietly.

The soup was delicious. But if Jiang Qing had been the one feeding her, maybe that smile would’ve been real.

“Feeling any better?” Cao Fenlan asked, eyes burning with intensity.

“Mm,” Hou Xue replied. “Thanks, Mom.”

Cao Fenlan’s eyes dimmed at those words. She set the empty bowl on the nightstand.

“Then rest well, Xiao Xue,” she said, turning to Jiang Qing. “With you around, I feel at ease.”

“Jiang Qing.” Jiang Bin, silent until now, suddenly spoke.

Jiang Qing’s Adam’s apple bobbed as she swallowed nervously.

The original version of her had always been a bit afraid of this rarely-seen father. And the expressionless face staring back at her only made her more uneasy.

“You’ve grown up. I’m glad,” Jiang Bin said simply, then walked out with Cao Fenlan in his arms.

Jiang Qing watched them leave, then massaged her temples and sank into her seat again.

“I called a doctor,” she said. “They’ll be here soon.”

Hou Xue leaned against the bedframe, too weak to move a finger—let alone protest.

She’d always preferred quiet. Now, sick as she was, that silence was even more profound.

She didn’t want to sleep anymore. Closing her eyes made her eyelids burn, like her eyeballs were melting.

Jiang Qing returned with another bowl of soup, mumbling, “Drinking more fluids really helps with fever. I know you like sweet things, so I added lots of brown sugar.”

Hou Xue opened her eyes and drank the soup, watching Jiang Qing’s face the whole time.

Under the scrutiny, Jiang Qing didn’t know where to look, so she focused on Hou Xue’s lips.

They looked soft and full—much more lively than usual.

By the time the doctor arrived, Jiang Qing had already taken her temperature again.

39.8°C.

Jiang Qing nearly ground her molars to dust. She was baffled—she gave her medicine and soup, so why was the fever climbing instead of going down?

After a brief examination, the doctor said, “I recommend going to the hospital for an IV… but if that’s not convenient, you can wipe her down with rubbing alcohol to lower the fever. Or use cold compresses on her forehead and monitor her temperature closely.”

“Got it. Thank you.”

After sending the doctor off, Jiang Qing had the maid prepare the supplies.

Hou Xue didn’t like hospitals. That much the original novel said—but it never explained why. Jiang Qing didn’t feel right asking.

She had a feeling it was the kind of story Hou Xue couldn’t share easily.

So from the start, she hadn’t planned to take her to a hospital. For a manageable fever, exposing Hou Xue to potentially painful memories wasn’t worth it.

Truthfully, she could’ve had the maid help with the alcohol wipes, but she didn’t want that.

This was her stepsister, after all—how could she let anyone else do it?

Still, when it came time to actually do it, Jiang Qing blushed harder than Hou Xue with her 39.6°C fever.

“I, um, you need to… cooperate a little,” Jiang Qing said, hovering at Hou Xue’s collarbone, unsure how to proceed.

“Hm?” Hou Xue’s voice was thick and nasal. “How should I cooperate?”

Jiang Qing licked her dry lips and beckoned. “Come here—lean on my shoulder.”

Hou Xue stared at Jiang Qing’s flushed ears, then leaned into her arms.

Her arm curled around Jiang Qing’s back, pulling them closer.

Too close—dangerously close.

Hou Xue could hear Jiang Qing’s heartbeat. Normally steady, it suddenly sped up like it was trying to leap into her own chest.

They were embracing.

Fingertips rested on the curve of Hou Xue’s shoulder blade. She tilted her head, breath brushing Jiang Qing’s neck.

Jiang Qing smelled clean, crisp—like freshly laundered linen in springtime.

“Your heart is beating really fast, sis,” Hou Xue whispered, tightening the hug, her lips curled in a smile she couldn’t hide. Fever-fogged and impulsive, she didn’t think twice about her actions.

What would you say to that?

Jiang Qing held her breath, trying to calm the heart that Hou Xue had so teasingly pointed out.

The word “sister” again—like a catalyst, it made her heart nearly burst.

Strangely, her first instinct wasn’t to push Hou Xue away—but to hide something.

“You, um, loosen up a little. I can’t move.” Her voice was resigned.

Hou Xue’s heart finally settled.

So… that was your answer?

“You’re cooler. It feels nice,” Hou Xue explained softly.

The pressure on Jiang Qing’s body eased. She resumed gently wiping down Hou Xue’s overheated skin—each stroke felt like she was touching her directly.

This is so messed up. What’s there to be embarrassed about? This girl is skin and bones—how could anyone feel anything other than pity?

One hand supported Hou Xue; the other slipped beneath her clothes. Jiang Qing tried to distract herself with random thoughts.

She worked hard to ignore the breathing beside her ear—the strange intimacy of their embrace—but something felt off, and she couldn’t figure out what it was.

“All done.” Jiang Qing exhaled with relief and pulled back, striking a surrender pose that looked comical.

“Mm.” Hou Xue let go without hesitation—like she really had just wanted to hug someone cooler than her. Nothing more.

“Let’s, uh, take your temperature again,” Jiang Qing stammered, tripping over her words.

Hou Xue lay back down, adjusted the wet towel on her forehead, and held out her hand.

39.1°C.

Jiang Qing finally relaxed. “It’s gone down!”

“Mm. Thanks for everything,” Hou Xue replied with a smile.

Jiang Qing’s heart skipped a beat.

Finally, she realized what had felt off.

In that embrace… Hou Xue’s heartbeat was faster than hers.