I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 34

The trip ended abruptly, leaving behind a sense of regret.

Xu Miao wasn’t in a good mood. Jiang Qing tried to cheer her up for a long time, but she remained listless. Even when Sun Qian perked up again in the hospital bed, Xu Miao could only manage a forced smile.

Before long, Sun Qian’s mother transferred her back home, seemingly no longer trusting her daughter to manage herself. She restricted Sun Qian’s personal freedom again.

Wanting to take Xu Miao’s mind off things, Jiang Qing asked Jiang Xing to find a few fun places for them to go, hoping Xu Miao would join. But Xu Miao declined every time. So, Jiang Qing stayed home with her.

Jiang Qing felt partially responsible for what happened. She was the oldest among those on the trip—she should have paid more attention to Sun Qian.

Even if they couldn’t go out and play, they could still study at the Jiang family villa.

It was Hou Xue who suggested they put in some real practice.

The final substantial break before the college entrance exams ended up being spent studying—Jiang Qing was shocked at herself.

“We have a test when school starts. Our goal is to be number one,” Hou Xue said.

“Wow,” Jiang Qing replied flatly, propping her head on one hand as she stared at a problem set. “That’s not happening. Honestly.” She was already numb from doing so many practice questions.

“Alright then,” Hou Xue said, as if she were easygoing. “Top of the class, top ten in the grade.”

“I was way behind Miao Miao last time, wasn’t I?” Jiang Qing asked. “Surpassing her at the start of term—do you think that’s even possible?”

“You were ranked twentieth, Xu Miao was fifth, but your total scores were only five points apart. The top few spots are tightly contested. You just need to pull up your physics a bit,” Hou Xue analyzed objectively, pulling out a fresh piece of scratch paper.

Whenever the topic of studying came up, Jiang Qing felt like she was falling short of what someone her age should be capable of. Every single tutoring session, Hou Xue helped her. Though it was the truth, Jiang

Qing occasionally wanted to challenge the heroine’s authority.

“Wait.” Jiang Qing pressed a hand down on the scratch paper, stopping Hou Xue mid-action. “I’ve always been curious—how do you know everything when we’re all in the same year?”

“I told you before,” Hou Xue frowned. “I’ve already learned all of it.”

“No, I mean… you’ve completely mastered everything?”

Hou Xue nodded.

Jiang Qing paused, then gave up arguing.

Of course. The way Hou Xue taught—so smooth, never even looking at the answer sheet.

Comparison really is the thief of joy.

“Ugh, studying is exhausting.” Jiang Qing slumped over the table. “I’m done. I quit school.” She left Hou Xue with a view of the back of her head.

Hou Xue’s expression softened as she chuckled. “Then what do you want to do?”

Jiang Qing: “…” She thought hard—but couldn’t come up with a single thing.

What a boring life. Not even a proper hobby.

She had transmigrated into a book, right? Others who transmigrated got to beat up cannon fodder and slap villains with flair—living colorful lives. Why was her life so dull? Just study, study, and more study—how painfully realistic.

“I don’t care anymore,” Jiang Qing pouted childishly, rare for her. Upon reflection, she really did feel a bit miserable. “No studying today.”

“Alright,” Hou Xue replied without a trace of resistance. “Then we won’t study.” As she spoke, she began tidying the desk.

Hearing the rustling sounds, Jiang Qing turned to look. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up. Can’t you tell?” Hou Xue smiled.

“You’re leaving? Where are you going?” Jiang Qing asked.

“To…” Hou Xue drew out the word teasingly. “Do I have to report all my movements to Second Miss?”

Jiang Qing couldn’t take that tone and quickly flopped back onto the desk, muttering, “Oh.”

Just as Hou Xue finished tidying up, Jiang Qing suddenly said, “Have you noticed? We don’t even have each other’s contact info.”

Hou Xue paused, then took a pencil from the holder and scribbled her number on the scratch paper.

“All my social accounts use this number,” she said, then walked off.

Jiang Qing looked at the paper, then entered the number into her phone. When it came to saving the contact, she hesitated.

She typed “Hou Xue” first, then quickly deleted it.

Too formal.

Then she typed “Stepsister”—and deleted it even faster.

In the end, she settled on “Xue Xue.” That name stayed.

Satisfied, Jiang Qing opened her chat app and added Hou Xue using her phone number.

The avatar was plain white. The username was “Snow.”

Snow?

Jiang Qing was instantly delighted—she had a digital pet snowman also named Snow.

Owning that Snow was like owning this Hou Xue. That thought sent a thrill through her.

Life had been so busy lately, she hadn’t logged into her snowman game. But now her interest was reignited.

Grinning to herself, she switched to the phone app and called Hou Xue.

She picked up quickly.

“Hello.” The voice on the line was distorted slightly by the phone, making Hou Xue sound even more emotionless. But to Jiang Qing, it felt like proof of a deeper connection.

They spent so much time together, they rarely needed to use their phones. It was no wonder they’d forgotten about this.

“It’s me,” Jiang Qing said, eyes curving with a smile.

“Second Miss,” Hou Xue replied.

“I added you on WeChat. Accept the request,” Jiang Qing said.

“Okay,” Hou Xue agreed.

Jiang Qing suddenly felt nervous, fidgeting with the corner of the paper.

“Come back soon…” she murmured, feeling oddly embarrassed—like she’d slipped into some strange character.

“I won’t be long,” Hou Xue said softly. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Then… bye?” It was the first time Jiang Qing felt so awkward and shy on a phone call.

Maybe she’d been in this body too long. She really felt like she was seventeen again.

“Goodbye, Second Miss.”

The call ended. Jiang Qing leaned back in her chair, seriously reflecting on why a simple call had made her so giddy.

Hou Xue had gone out to blend a custom fragrance for Jiang Qing—a promise she hadn’t forgotten.

She used to be an apprentice in aromatherapy. Plagued by poor sleep and disliking medication, she’d been recommended to try calming scents. Through her connection with Luo Qi, she’d studied it for a while—it was purely a personal interest.

With her overpowered protagonist halo, Hou Xue excelled at anything involving “learning.” Naturally, perfumery was no exception. Several industry veterans believed she had real talent. Unfortunately, Hou Xue had no interest in the field; her only goal was to help herself relax.

Still, when she told them she was making a fragrance as a gift, they were more than happy to let her work.

—

It didn’t take long to blend the scent.

After all, it had existed in her mind for a long time. All she had to do now was bring it into reality.

It was crisp, clean, and sweet with a tart finish.

Hou Xue shook her head—there was no easy way to describe it.

She focused on her task while others did theirs—no interference. The process went smoothly.

When she finished, it was still early. She took a cab to a luxury neighborhood near the Jiang family villa.

There was a flower shop there.

Jiang Qing always gave her special gifts, but Hou Xue felt she had never given Jiang Qing anything meaningful in return.

“Nine roses,” Hou Xue told the florist. She looked at the dewy, delicate blooms and carefully selected a few. “Wrap them up, please.” It wasn’t that she didn’t want to buy more—she just feared Jiang Qing wouldn’t accept them if she did.

This was all she could offer for now.

But soon, she would have the ability to give Jiang Qing everything.

The shop assistant, a young girl with twin ponytails, wrapped the roses with care—as if handling a work of art.

“That’ll be thirty-six,” she said, handing over the bouquet. “Come again.”

Hou Xue paid and walked toward the Jiang residence, flowers and perfume in hand.

She was in a good mood—expressionless as always, but the corners of her mouth curved higher than usual.

Licht had come online.

Hou Xue looked at her phone and saw messages from Jiang Qing.

“We went to a resort recently. We were supposed to have fun, but something bad happened.”

“What happened?”

Hou Xue was curious why Jiang Qing chose to talk to a chatbot instead of a real person. Surely a living, breathing friend would be better?

Of course, if Jiang Qing preferred online chats, Hou Xue would be the first to replace her competition.

Being a chatbot was hard—she was constantly afraid of slipping up.

“A girl in our group had a heart condition. She had a relapse.”

“Is she okay now?”

Or maybe Jiang Qing really just liked this kind of interaction?

“Her mom took her home. But her freedom’s restricted again.”

“Is Licht very upset?”

“My friend feels really guilty—like it was her fault for not looking after her.”

“Is this the new friend Licht mentioned before?”

“No, it’s a longtime friend.”

“Heart condition—”

Hou Xue stopped mid-message.

The Jiang family villa was near the city center, with a buffer zone between it and other buildings. That zone was meant for future entertainment projects, but construction hadn’t started yet. At the moment, it was still in the process of demolishing old buildings.

That’s why Hou Xue was surprised—she ran into some very unexpected people there.

“Hou Xue,” one of them said. “What a coincidence, running into you here.”

—

Hou Xue sent her location.

Jiang Qing clicked the link—it was a demolition site, not far from home.

What was Hou Xue doing there?

A bad feeling crept in. Jiang Qing grabbed a jacket and rushed out.

One of the maids asked, “Second Miss, where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Just picking someone up,” Jiang Qing replied with a smile.

It’s probably nothing. It has to be nothing.

She called Hou Xue—but no one answered.

Pick up. Please pick up.

“Where’s the car?” she asked another maid.

“In the garage, Miss,” the maid replied, unnerved by Jiang Qing’s tense expression.

“Forget it.” Jiang Qing let go of her arm.

She was panicking—utterly disoriented for the first time. All she wanted was to find Hou Xue right now. The anxiety was overwhelming.

—

The place wasn’t far. Jiang Qing ran the whole way.

She ran fast—so fast that she couldn’t calm down even after stopping.

In truth, she was dazed.

She saw bl00d.

Red. Vivid red, tinged with black.

There were gray smudges on the girl’s clothes—bright red splotches at the corners.

It was the outfit Jiang Qing had bought for her. It had looked beautiful on her, like how Jiang Qing always wanted to see her.

The bl00d was from Hou Xue’s hand, which hung limp against the ground.

Beside her lay a bouquet of roses. Petals had fallen onto Hou Xue’s fingers, mixing with the bl00d—like a painting worthy of the Louvre.

Jiang Qing remembered.

How could she have forgotten?

How could she forget this pivotal plot point—Hou Xue would get injured during the summer before their final year.

Hou Xue would bleed.

The book barely mentioned it, only in a few lines when she later acquired Zhu Yao’s father’s company.

Just a few lines.

Jiang Qing felt her head was going to explode.

She stepped forward.

“Jiang Qing, what are you doing?”