I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 17

“Why didn’t you and Hou Xue show up today?”

Jiang Qing had spent the whole day caring for a sick stepsister. Now that Hou Xue had finally fallen asleep, she took a quick shower and finally had a moment to check her phone.

Originally, she’d just planned to log into Snowman to collect snowflakes—she’d been eyeing a little shawl in the shop for days. But instead, the moment she unlocked her phone, she was bombarded by a stream of messages from Xu Miao.

“Hou Xue’s sick. I’m taking care of her.”

The original Jiang Qing had been fairly lucky in life—born into a wealthy family, with a well-behaved younger brother. Even if she had flaws in her personality, she still had genuine friends.

A few minutes later, Xu Miao replied:

“??? You’re doing that yourself?”

Since when did Second Miss Jiang take on such thankless tasks?

Xu Miao furiously typed out a bunch of messages, then thought better of them and deleted them all.

Jiang Qing noticed the chat window flipping between “Typing…” and “Online”—it wasn’t hard to guess the other girl was hesitating.

“Her fever was really high, almost 40°C.”

“It’s not… comfortable at my place for her, so I had her stay.”

“Alright. I’ll send you today’s notes.”

“Thanks, Miao~ You’re the best~” Jiang Qing deliberately added two tildes to her message.

The original Jiang Qing used to love throwing in tildes when she chatted, but this was the first time Jiang Qing had done so since inhabiting this body. And she’d cut off surface-level contact with most people—Xu

Miao was the only one she still talked to on this app.

Xu Miao didn’t say anything else—she simply sent over a dozen pictures and went offline.

“I’m going to sleep now. Good night.”

“Okay~ Good night!”

After saying goodnight to Xu Miao, Jiang Qing opened the Snowman app, completed the daily tasks, and clicked into the message board.

A little venting never hurt anyone.

“A friend had a fever today. I took care of her all day, but I’m still worried.”

“Snow, do you know what having a fever feels like?”

Jiang Qing stared at her screen, waiting for a reply. When nothing came, she thought the app had bugged out and restarted it—only then did the response show up.

“You worked hard today, Licht.”

Jiang Qing’s heart gave a little jolt.

Why… did this sound so out of character for a bot?

“Snow knows. A fever makes people feel very hot.”

“She had a high of 39.5°C. Thankfully, it went down later, but she was burning up everywhere I touched.”

“It’s all her fault for always wearing too little. I’ve been wanting to buy her clothes for ages but never found the right moment. Now I finally have an excuse. She can’t say no.”

“Licht is so kind to her friend. You’re such a gentle person.”

“It’s because I really want to be her friend. I want to protect her.”

Jiang Qing couldn’t help but marvel at how advanced the AI system was. It felt less like chatting with a bot and more like talking to someone real—like sharing her day with a stranger on a social app.

“Why do you want to be her friend so badly?”

Jiang Qing thought for a few seconds.

“Because she’s a good person—independent, kind, thoughtful, and really pretty. Who wouldn’t like her?”

Yes… who wouldn’t?

…

The next morning, Jiang Qing woke up early. She’d specifically set an alarm to check Hou Xue’s temperature.

37.3°C. Mild. Still under control.

Should they just skip school again? After all, for someone like Hou Xue, lectures weren’t exactly make-or-break.

Jiang Qing had tiptoed around the house with the precision of a cat burglar, fully confident in her stealth. So as she spaced out, she didn’t notice that Hou Xue had already opened her eyes—and was quietly watching her from the bed.

Hou Xue was a light sleeper. She’d woken the moment Jiang Qing had peeked into the room. But she’d stayed silent.

It wasn’t even dawn yet. Naturally, she was curious what Jiang Qing was sneaking around for.

And then, she saw—Jiang Qing had come just to check her temperature.

Hou Xue almost laughed. She smiled quietly, knowing Jiang Qing couldn’t see her. That made it easier—no need to think too much.

Once Jiang Qing finished checking the thermometer, she tiptoed back out.

Hou Xue shut her eyes again. After being woken up, she couldn’t fall back asleep, but she lay there, resting quietly.

She thought about the things Jiang Qing had said to Snow the night before.

So… that’s how her stepsister saw her? The difference was almost comical.

Hou Xue’s eyelids fluttered open again.

Was she just being too presumptuous?

It was just… care. Nothing more. Even if it was the kind of care she used to yearn for, what did it really mean?

It could mean that this imposter really was a softhearted person—one who truly saw her as a sister.

Or it was just another part of a carefully staged act.

Something she shouldn’t hope for.

Hou Xue let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh.

She couldn’t stop her heart from racing yesterday—just like now, when she couldn’t stop the seed of hope from growing.

But someone unloved by their own family didn’t have the right to dream about a future.

Hou Xue was still too young. She hadn’t experienced betrayal, hadn’t seen society’s filth, hadn’t lived through the full “plot.”

The fire in her chest hadn’t gone out yet—it still flickered deep within, stubborn and small, trying to tell someone:

I’m not dead yet.

…

By Thursday morning, Jiang Qing checked several times before finally sighing in relief at the number on the thermometer—36.3°C.

It had gone down for good. No sign of a rebound. Hou Xue was healthy again.

They’d skipped three days of class. But Jiang Qing wasn’t too bothered.

Xu Miao had faithfully sent her notes every night, and Hou Xue had occasionally explained things aloud. She wasn’t falling behind.

“So, you’ve already studied all of this?” Jiang Qing asked while working through a worksheet.

“Mm.” Hou Xue still sounded a bit congested.

“That’s amazing.” Jiang Qing didn’t hold back her praise. She herself had forgotten most of what she crammed for in school, and trying to tackle it now was brutal. She was never the studious type—she needed someone to guide her.

After a few days of this, Jiang Qing really didn’t want to go back to school.

What was the point, when her learning efficiency with Hou Xue was leagues better? Going back felt like a waste of time. The thought alone made her resist.

Learning with Hou Xue was actually enjoyable—aside from how sore her hand got from writing so many practice sheets. But she knew this was the kind of grind she had to go through for the future she wanted.

Now that Jiang Bin and Jiang Yan weren’t home, Second Miss Jiang Qing—who held absolute authority in the Jiang house—was sulking over her bowl of porridge, troubled by the idea of returning to school.

But her reluctance didn’t mean Hou Xue felt the same. And honestly, this mindset was wrong to begin with. She’d be dragging Hou Xue down and stalling her own plot progression.

Jiang Qing sighed again.

“That’s your fifth sigh,” Hou Xue said, setting down her spoon. “What are you worrying about?”

Jiang Qing paused. She struggled to find the right words, face flushing. She ended up deflecting with a laugh: “It’s nothing. Just drink your porridge before it gets cold.” Then she finally took a bite.

But she’d stirred it too long—it was cold.

Hou Xue didn’t push further when Jiang Qing avoided the question. She just quietly focused on her sweet soup.

“Sis…” Jiang Xing, who had been silently observing the two of them, suddenly spoke up. “You’re not… thinking of skipping school, are you?”

Jiang Qing: “…”

Wasn’t it a virtue to pretend not to know something? How’d this kid see right through her?

Seeing her face fall, Jiang Xing gave a dry laugh, quickly set down his spoon, and bolted: “Sis, take your time eating. I’m heading out!” He grabbed his bag and ran.

“You still need your teachers’ guidance,” Hou Xue said calmly. “Listen carefully. Don’t skim. Think deeply.”

“Yes, Teacher Hou…”

Being seen through was embarrassing. She had no big-sister pride left.

“…You’re already about back to where you were. No need to rush or push yourself too hard. Every action has its consequence. You’ve always worked hard—just keep going like you are now.”

It was rare for Hou Xue to say so much at once. Jiang Qing looked at her, a little surprised—and a little suspicious.

“Wait, are you comforting me?” she asked, words dragging together like a bowl of thick porridge.

“What did you just call me?” Hou Xue didn’t answer—instead, she asked a question of her own.

“Call you?” Jiang Qing paused, tried to recall, then mumbled, “Uh… Teacher Hou?”

“It’s normal for a teacher to calm a student’s pre-test nerves, isn’t it?” Hou Xue stood up. “Let’s go.”

It was like that time she’d comforted her cat—when the cat was upset, she’d pet it gently, and it would flip over, showing its belly in contentment.

Jiang Qing felt her face flush. That “teacher-student” roleplay had her head spinning. Was she starting to run a fever now?

“Okay.” She stood up too and followed behind Hou Xue.

Maybe there was another reason she didn’t want to go back to school:

At school, she wouldn’t get to see this girl as much—not even her silhouette.

She was already addicted to her presence. She couldn’t bear the withdrawal.

…

“You really found the right person.” The short-haired girl chuckled. “I can tell you how to win Jiang Qing over.”

The taller girl reached out to grab her sleeve, but the short-haired one brushed her hand away.

“You’ve heard about Jiang Qing and Hou Xue, right? Just go deal with Hou Xue. Jiang Qing’s bound to come looking for you.” Zhu Yao looked innocent and sincere, her baby face making her seem completely trustworthy.

The guy across from her hesitated. “But I heard Jiang Qing’s been treating Hou Xue really well lately…”

“Hmph.” Zhu Yao scoffed. “Hou Xue only entered the Jiang family to take a slice of the pie. No way they’ve actually made up.”

“Yeah… that does make some sense…”

After the guy left, Miao Xiao frowned. “You lied to him.”

“Did I?” Zhu Yao smirked. “If Jiang Qing hates Hou Xue, she’ll come find him. If she doesn’t hate her, she’ll still come find him. Either way, it works.” She lifted her chin and met Miao Xiao’s eyes.

Miao Xiao looked away.

She remembered Zhu Yao hadn’t always been like this. She used to just be a little jealous of Jiang Qing—maybe even saw her as a goal to surpass.

But somewhere along the way, the moment Hou Xue’s name came up, Zhu Yao turned into someone reckless—someone unhinged.

No one really knew why.

“I’m leaving soon,” Zhu Yao said softly. “But before I go—I want to play one last big hand.”