I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 30

Hou Xue’s eyes darkened when Jiang Qing didn’t respond.

“H-Hou Xue, you…” Jiang Qing finally snapped out of it and tried to push her away. She needed a moment to calm down.

But to Hou Xue, that movement was nothing short of outright rejection.

Without a word, Hou Xue wrapped her arms around Jiang Qing’s waist, eliminating all distance between them.

“Hey—” Jiang Qing stiffened in her embrace. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m not…” Her explanation faltered midway, sounding weak even to her own ears.

“I know,” Hou Xue sneered coldly, tightening her grip.

No—you don’t know.

Jiang Qing was starting to lose herself in Hou Xue’s scent and softness, almost ready to give in completely.

“I didn’t push you away, nor did I tell you to leave. Didn’t I say—just for a moment?” Jiang Qing no longer resisted. Right now, comforting this girl felt more important.

She couldn’t leave Jiang Qing. And now—it was Jiang Qing who couldn’t leave her.

But Hou Xue couldn’t control herself. And that scared her. She would surely end up frightening Jiang Qing.

Jiang Qing had already been upset with her once. There wouldn’t be a second chance.

This was a scar left by Cao Fenlan—one she could never erase.

“…Jiang Qing.” Hou Xue whispered her name once, then called it again, a little louder.

“I’m here.” Jiang Qing could hear the tremble in her voice and quickly wrapped her arms around her in return.

“Jiang Qing… Jiang Qing…” Hou Xue repeated her name over and over, as if trying to suppress something. Her breathing grew labored, and her head slumped weakly against Jiang Qing’s shoulder.

Something felt wrong.

Jiang Qing couldn’t tell what exactly, so she simply kept answering her, reassuring her: “I’m here.”

“Jiang Qing, what did I do wrong?” Hou Xue’s voice turned cold, but her words pierced Jiang Qing straight through the heart.

She’d already yielded. And she’d yielded so many times.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re wonderful. It’s me—it’s all my fault.” Jiang Qing finally realized what she’d done.

This girl, so proud and untouchable in Waiting for the Snow to Stop, had fallen into this state. No one could ever make her lose composure—no one.

And yet Jiang Qing had tamed a wolf.

But she couldn’t feel the joy of victory. All she felt was a suffocating heaviness in her chest.

No one should ever be able to make Hou Xue bow her head—not even Jiang Qing.

Somewhere, something had gone wrong. But how could it be fixed?

All it would take was a promise. Just one.

If Jiang Qing said: I won’t leave you. I never will.

Everything would fall back into place.

But that was the one thing she couldn’t say. Not anymore.

Jiang Qing even wished she could go back in time and punch herself. What kind of bastard was she to force Hou Xue into needing such a promise?

Hou Xue was still so young. She cared about Jiang Qing. She would take that promise seriously.

And Jiang Qing—who despised those who betrayed Hou Xue—was about to become one of them.

Both of them understood, in that moment of silence, that Jiang Qing would never say those words again.

The firefly light died out.

The firefly by Hou Xue’s ear vanished.

Maybe a moment ago, she still had a sliver of hope. But as the darkness closed in again, she exhaled in a trembling breath.

She had fallen back into the dark—and this time, no one would pull her out. No one would even bother to lie to her anymore.

Nothing lasts forever.

Jiang Qing could stay by her side, but not forever.

She had no reason to make Jiang Qing stay.

“Let me go,” Hou Xue rasped.

If she couldn’t have what she wanted, staying this close to Jiang Qing was dangerous.

She didn’t want to push Jiang Qing away completely—not before things spun out of control.

Jiang Qing didn’t move.

“Let go of me,” Hou Xue repeated.

She couldn’t push Jiang Qing away herself—she could only wait for Jiang Qing to release her.

“No…” Jiang Qing mumbled, torn between giving Hou Xue hope and her own reluctance to let go.

If she let go now, it might be for good.

Hou Xue gave a bitter smile. It stung.

That smile made Jiang Qing let go—but her hand slipped down and grabbed Hou Xue’s instead.

At least… something. Even if just a little.

Jiang Qing felt like the worst kind of selfish. She couldn’t give anything, yet refused to let go. She said she wouldn’t offer false hope, yet clung indecisively.

But this was Hou Xue.

The heroine of Waiting for the Snow to Stop. A beautiful girl in the prime of youth. Her stepsister in name. And… her Hou Xue.

Individually, none of these identities were a problem. But together, they exposed every flaw, making it impossible for Jiang Qing to pretend she didn’t see them.

Hou Xue was too young. Still Jiang Qing’s stepsister. And more importantly, she belonged to a story—a character with a predetermined path and narrative.

She was someone designed. And this world held too many unpredictable variables.

Jiang Qing did want to keep walking this path. She treated this like her real life. She told herself she couldn’t return.

But who knew what the future held?

If even falling into a novel was possible, what else wasn’t?

Jiang Qing couldn’t make any lasting promises under such uncertainty.

She couldn’t be absolute. Couldn’t take a gamble.

There was too much to face, too much to fix. Even if a choice had to be made, it couldn’t be now.

Hou Xue was still young. Even she couldn’t be sure her current decisions were right.

Jiang Qing feared someone would regret this someday—regret declaring something eternal in a moment of impulse and wild emotion.

Nothing is eternal.

Jiang Qing once believed she would always be happy. But that dream shattered too fast—left too much pain.

It wasn’t cowardice—it was clarity.

That’s just how Jiang Qing thought. She always started with the future.

Just like now—she hadn’t expected things to spiral like this when she first approached Hou Xue. And now, she had nothing to offer her.

She said she wouldn’t hurt her. But hadn’t she done just that?

She’d underestimated how much Hou Xue truly cared.

And there was something else—something Hou Xue was hiding.

That loss of control earlier wasn’t random. Jiang Qing reached up and touched a half-healed wound, sensing just how much Hou Xue had been suppressing.

What now?

Their tangled feelings were like a hopelessly knotted ball of yarn—soft, but impossible to unravel.

It reminded Jiang Qing of something Xu Miao once said: The threads are cut, yet they remain a mess.

Jiang Qing broke the silence first. She looked at the time on her phone, still holding Hou Xue’s hand. “We should head back.”

Hou Xue started walking.

“It’s too dark—watch your step…” Jiang Qing turned on her flashlight and hurried to walk ahead.

She had wandered pretty far in earlier and hadn’t felt the distance. But now, walking back in silence with Hou Xue, the road felt endless and suffocatingly narrow.

No sound accompanied them but the quiet rhythm of nature.

Just as they reached a fork, a woman’s mocking voice rang out from the right: “What’s wrong? Don’t want me to kiss you?”

Jiang Qing stopped, peering through the bushes.

She recognized the voice—her original self’s memory did, at least.

Zhuo Tao.

That smug, mocking tone was unmistakably hers.

Jiang Qing glanced at Hou Xue. Her expression didn’t change.

Better to leave now. The less they got involved, the better.

“I dare to hide?” A colder voice responded.

“Well, since you signed the contract, it’s time to fulfill your part,” Zhuo Tao said.

Contract?

Jiang Qing didn’t want to meddle, but this might be a real side plot.

If she could influence this thread, her understanding of this world’s rules would deepen.

Go? Or stay?

“Do you really have to do this?”

Jiang Qing guessed the other speaker must be Fan Ya.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You signed without hesitation, and now you’re recoiling from a kiss? What about what comes next—” Zhuo Tao’s voice was cut off by a loud slap.

Jiang Qing clearly heard it.

Fan Ya had slapped her.

“Zhuo Tao, could you please show me some respect…” Fan Ya’s voice trembled slightly.

“Respect?” Zhuo Tao grabbed Fan Ya’s wrist. “You think I won’t put you in your place?”

“Let go!” Fan Ya shouted.

Hou Xue tugged Jiang Qing’s hand gently, her voice hoarse. “Let’s stop here for a bit. I’m tired.”

She was giving Jiang Qing an excuse to stay and listen. Jiang Qing looked at the dense trees, unsure.

“I won’t let go!” Zhuo Tao shouted.

Things were clearly escalating.

Hou Xue, seeing Jiang Qing hesitate, led her to a gap in the bushes where a faint light showed through.

It felt like they were spying.

Jiang Qing rubbed her nose awkwardly.

Then she saw it—Zhuo Tao grabbing Fan Ya’s waist and kissing her.

Jiang Qing was stunned. Her grip on Hou Xue’s hand tightened.

Zhuo Tao was wild—kissing like she was biting. She held Fan Ya’s head tightly, as if stealing her breath would make her obedient.

Hou Xue winced at Jiang Qing’s grip and looked over.

And once she saw it, she too lost her calm—especially after what had just happened between them.

Both girls quickly looked away, avoiding each other’s eyes.

Fan Ya initially resisted, then slowly gave in.

Jiang Qing clutched Hou Xue’s hand tighter, terrified she’d let go.

It was a beautiful scene.

Two entwined silhouettes framed in a circular patch of light, moonlight cascading over them—it looked like eternity.

And, as expected, eternity shattered fast.

Zhuo Tao pulled back and said smugly, “See? You do like me. Just one kiss and you gave in.”

Fan Ya looked down, lips bleeding. Her forced smile only brought more bl00d to the surface—hauntingly beautiful.

Zhuo Tao seemed regretful for a second, but quickly masked it with a sneer. “Let’s just say we’re even now.”

Fan Ya, eyes downcast, never saw that moment of tenderness. To her, Zhuo Tao was just cruel and unreasonable.

After a while, Zhuo Tao said, “The contract—it’s still just our little secret.”

She pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the bl00d from Fan Ya’s lips.

“Does it hurt?” Her tone had softened, still bearing her usual edge—but her gaze was gentle, like she was looking at a treasure. Only when Fan Ya closed her eyes did she dare show that expression.

Jiang Qing noticed it.

Miss Zhuo was a classic tsundere—saying one thing, feeling another. Her whole act was frustrating.

And maybe… Fan Ya wasn’t just in it for the status either.

They were both so difficult.

Jiang Qing came to a conclusion—only to realize she had no right to judge.

She looked down at her and Hou Xue’s interlocked hands.

Isn’t this already awkward enough?

Forget about her and Hou Xue for now—what exactly is the deal between Zhuo Tao and Fan Ya?

A bold guess? Maybe Zhuo Tao set it all up to entrap Fan Ya.

Turns out, everything had been orchestrated by Zhuo Tao herself.

Most people would want a rival to keep their distance, but Zhuo Tao went so far as to keep her close. This kind of maneuver—part boldness, part sheer luck—might have kept the truth hidden for a while, but eventually, it’s bound to surface.

Jiang Qing rested her chin on her hand, deep in thought.

Now she faced two choices.

One: slowly clear up the misunderstanding between Zhuo Tao and Fan Ya so the lovers could reunite—though that would take time.

Two: stick to the original plan, strike directly with solid evidence, and force the story’s climax sooner.

She leaned toward the second option. Jiang Qing wasn’t the selfless type—playing matchmaker didn’t interest her. And besides, the sooner she got results, the better.

Still, this was her first time seeing it so clearly… two women kissing.

Jiang Qing stood up and turned to Hou Xue. “This makes two secrets we share now.”

Hou Xue didn’t know how to respond. After a moment, she gave a bitter smile and said, “Alright.”