I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 20.1
After that unexpected encounter with Nie Rui during P.E. class, Jiang Qing began to keep a close watch on Hou Xue, sticking to her like a stubborn piece of adhesive tape.
Xu Miao and Jiang Xing had grown used to this behavior and simply let it be. Miss Xu was even the first to extend a tentative olive branch to Hou Xue.
Unfortunately, not everyone could tolerate Hou Xue’s perpetually calm, unreadable face. And fate wasn’t particularly cooperative either—the attempt ended in quiet failure.
Surprisingly, Jiang Qing’s tense and clingy behavior didn’t bother Hou Xue. In fact, she almost found it… amusing.
She had never experienced being cared for—or cherished, for that matter. The feeling was new and strange, but not unpleasant.
Besides, she usually took on her solo missions in the dead of night. It didn’t interfere with anything.
Luo Qi, on the other hand, had her criticisms:
“You’re young and already wrecking your health—how are you going to have the strength to fight later if you burn out now?”
Hou Xue ignored her completely.
The boss lady rolled her eyes and went upstairs to sleep.
…
Time passed quickly—or so Jiang Qing thought.
It was Sunday, the final afternoon before exams.
Hou Xue had scheduled her day: she only needed to study until 4 PM and focus on warming up with practice.
Jiang Qing’s pace had gradually improved. She was now able to complete all the mock tests within the time Hou Xue set.
True to her word, “Teacher Hou” granted her freedom once she finished her tasks.
Yet Jiang Qing seemed to have something weighing on her mind.
“Spit it out,” Hou Xue suddenly said, not one for beating around the bush.
Was she psychic?
Jiang Qing looked genuinely surprised.
“I’m not a mind reader. You wear everything on your face,” Hou Xue said bluntly.
“…I’ll work on that,” Jiang Qing replied awkwardly, rubbing the tip of her nose. “It’s not much, really. I just… I wanted to apologize about what I said before—about asking you to score lower on the test. And I wanted to tell you not to do that anymore.”
Hou Xue’s eyes suddenly darkened.
“I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I just… I think you deserve those things. They shouldn’t be taken away by someone like me,” Jiang Qing added nervously. Every time she brought up her “original self,” Hou Xue’s expression seemed to sour.
Sure enough, Hou Xue’s earlier relaxed demeanor disappeared.
Jiang Qing didn’t understand why she reacted like this. She had considered many possibilities, some more far-fetched than others—like the most absurd one: that Hou Xue somehow knew she wasn’t the original
Jiang Qing.
“It’s not about taking anything,” Hou Xue finally said. “None of it ever belonged to me in the first place. So, what’s there to steal?”
“I was wrong before,” Jiang Qing admitted. “All that recognition—it should’ve been yours.”
“Have you ever thought about yourself in all this?” Hou Xue asked evenly.
“Of course I have.”
Hou Xue sighed. “The rumors—those were released by the second miss. If I don’t play along, have you thought about what would happen?”
“So what? I don’t care,” Jiang Qing shrugged.
To her, it didn’t matter what names Jiang Qing got called. What mattered was whether Hou Xue received the recognition she deserved.
She was incredibly talented—exceptional. She deserved everything good.
And now, because of who she was tied to, Hou Xue’s brilliance was buried. She was isolated, overlooked. That wasn’t right.
Jiang Qing wanted to give it all back. She wanted Hou Xue’s youth to be just as radiant as her future—a shining center of attention.
Hou Xue didn’t respond.
Jiang Qing continued, “It was always meant to be yours. You’re so outstanding, people should see you.”
She started speaking boldly but trailed off near the end.
Did she really want others to see Hou Xue? Did she want this Hou Xue, who could still accept kindness from others, to look at someone else?
Stop. Hou Xue wasn’t hers. These selfish thoughts—where were they even coming from?
“I care,” Hou Xue said. “I care a lot about the second miss’s reputation—good or bad.” She leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
Jiang Qing’s brain didn’t register her words at first. All she noticed was the faint scent that Hou Xue always carried.
It was subtle, barely there—but up close, it was intoxicating.
“It’s really not a big deal…” Jiang Qing murmured, eyes drifting down to Hou Xue’s collar.
She was wearing a low-cut shirt today, exposing her collarbone and elegant neckline.
Jiang Qing was momentarily dazed by the scent and sight, until Hou Xue pulled back to her usual distance. “Same goes for this—I don’t think it matters anymore. You don’t need to bring it up again.”
Jiang Qing pouted, tapping her fingers on the table.
So difficult to deal with.
Of course, with Hou Xue’s personality, the chances of her agreeing were close to zero.
Still, just because she didn’t accept it didn’t mean Jiang Qing couldn’t say it.
That thought lit up her eyes again.
Now… how to get others to believe it too?
Jiang Qing’s expression shifted from gloom to glee. Hou Xue knew that meant her thoughts were veering off course again.
“Stop plotting,” Hou Xue said coldly, out of nowhere.
Jiang Qing slumped, her plan dead in the water. “…Okay.”
Hou Xue couldn’t bear to see her sulk for long and added, “If you make it into the top three, I’ll grant you a wish.”
“A wish?” Jiang Qing perked up.
“You can ask me for something—within reason,” Hou Xue said. “You call me your tutor, right? Tutors usually reward students based on exam results.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
…
Hou Xue went out, and Jiang Qing was left bored in her room.
In under an hour, she leveled up her snowman from level five to six, collected over 2,000 snowflakes, and spent most of them on a cute little cape—leaving just a measly amount.
“So expensive…” Jiang Qing stared at the small “7” on her screen with sorrow.
She poked the snowman’s belly and tapped its twig arms. The snowman clapped back and gave her a wide smile.
Jiang Qing opened the chat box.
Snow: I think I upset my friend again
And she ended up comforting me instead
This time, the bot didn’t respond quickly. She waited a long while. Finally, seeing the time, she set her phone down and went to shower.
After drying her hair and lying down in bed, she finally began to feel a bit of pressure.
It was just a little final exam—but after nearly a month of hard work, and with all that Hou Xue had put into helping her, it felt… heavier.
Originally, she told herself she’d treat this remaining year as a whole. But now, after just one month, her mindset had already shifted.
She covered her eyes with the back of her hand.
She wanted to know where Hou Xue was—but realized she had no way to contact her.
A sudden wave of loneliness rose like a tide, crashing over her before she could fall asleep.
…
It was raining.
Cold.
Jiang Qing wandered the streets aimlessly.
The person in front of her appeared suddenly.
Tall, wearing a black shirt, posture straight and confident, holding a black umbrella.
Jiang Qing stopped behind her.
“Jiang Qing?” the figure turned, speaking first.
Only a sharp chin was visible beneath the umbrella—like flawless white porcelain, captivating and delicate.
Jiang Qing recognized her name but couldn’t place the woman before her.
Rain pelted her shoulders. So cold.
She stepped closer, frowning, trying to make out her face.
The woman backed away, gripping the umbrella handle tightly, her knuckles white.
“What’s wrong?”
Jiang Qing smirked. “Why are you backing away?”
“N-no…” she stammered, but kept her distance.
“You’re too far,” Jiang Qing said, suddenly irritated. She reached forward, wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist, and yanked her close.
“Jiang Qing!” the woman gasped.
“So, you can act like this too?” Jiang Qing muttered, holding her tight. “Why are you always so cold? Like a giant ice cube.”
“Let go,” the woman finally said, sighing.
Jiang Qing shook her head and rubbed against her like a spoiled child.
“You’re so soft… so thin… but—why don’t you have a scent?” Jiang Qing hesitated.
“No scent?” the woman leaned in, whispering in her ear, “Jiang Qing, do you really not know who I am? Hmm?”
That upward lilt blurred Jiang Qing’s mind.
What was that saying again?
Soft jade in your arms—what more could you want?
When Jiang Qing woke up, her back was drenched in sweat. She gripped her sheets tightly. The window was cracked open, but she felt unbearably hot, her throat dry.
“Am I crazy…?”
The dream vanished upon waking, but Jiang Qing couldn’t distinguish between fantasy and reality.
Was that person… Hou Xue?
No.
Definitely not.
Freaked out, she ran to the bathroom and splashed her flushed face with cold water.
Even Jiang Qing, normally oblivious, understood what dreaming of someone meant. But the dream stopped at a hug, making her wonder if she was just being overly sensitive.
Besides, she never saw the person’s face. It could’ve been anyone.
But it definitely couldn’t be Hou Xue.
That morning, Jiang Qing rushed through breakfast, avoiding eye contact with Hou Xue like the guilty party she was.
That familiar, intense stare she used to constantly throw across the table was gone. Hou Xue noticed the difference immediately.
Was she still upset about being turned down yesterday?
She bit into her toast thoughtfully.
“I’m going ahead,” Jiang Qing said, grabbing her bag.
“Mm…” Hou Xue responded.
That quiet sound made Jiang Qing stiffen slightly and quicken her pace.
…
In the car, Hou Xue gave a few reminders. But when she saw Jiang Qing avoiding her entirely, she stopped talking.
Right before they went off to their separate exam rooms, Hou Xue grabbed Jiang Qing’s wrist, about to speak—
—but Jiang Qing pulled away sharply.
Hou Xue’s lashes trembled.
Jiang Qing froze. Realizing what she had just done, she quickly looked up and met Hou Xue’s eyes for the first time all day. “Hou Xue, I…”
“Sorry,” Hou Xue took a step back, her gaze downcast. “Second Miss.”
Panic rose in Jiang Qing’s chest. She wanted to explain, but had no good reason.
She had never struggled to lie before—but now, she couldn’t even come up with a word.
Tell Hou Xue she dreamed about hugging her?
Ridiculous.
What was she doing?
“I didn’t mean it like that…” Jiang Qing said weakly.
“It’s fine. I just wanted to say—don’t stress too much,” Hou Xue replied, then turned to leave without another word.
Jiang Qing wanted to chase after her—but her legs wouldn’t move.
She felt like something had cracked. One more push, and it might all shatter.
She stumbled into her exam room in a daze.
Still a bit lost, she began filling out the Chinese exam.
There were two hours in total. Jiang Qing set aside one full hour just for the essay.
The prompt: “Redemption.”
If she’d seen this yesterday, she would’ve scoffed. What could a teenager possibly know about redemption?
But today… she couldn’t laugh.
Because maybe—just maybe—she did want to save someone.
No, save might be too arrogant.
Perhaps it was more about lending a hand—or maybe about satisfying the expectations of Jiang Qing’s readers.
Jiang Qing rubbed her temples.
It was because of this. Because of all this… she had dreamed of Hou Xue.
Ever since Jiang Qing realized, after entering the world of the book, that Hou Xue was just a pitiful girl, Hou Xue had gradually become entangled in every part of her life.
Too much contact had blurred Jiang Qing’s judgment.
She sat down to write, but her mind was blank. She didn’t even know what her pen was putting on the page.