I Became the Female Lead’s Current Obsession - Chapter 48

Jiang Qing felt a wave of dizziness.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself in a neatly square room.

There were no windows—only a single door that didn’t look like it could be easily forced open.

Where is this?

She vaguely remembered talking to Hou Xue—about transmigrating into a novel.

More importantly, she remembered Hou Xue was saying something before she suddenly passed out. Something that was left unfinished.

Jiang Qing felt a tightness around her neck and reached up to touch it.

Something circular and slightly heavy was fastened there.

It was strange—felt almost like some sort of collar.

What exactly was going on?

Was Hou Xue in another room wearing the same thing?

The room looked to be about twenty square meters. There was only a table and two stools—nothing else.

Jiang Qing instinctively wanted to remove the thing around her neck, but it was locked on tightly. She had no idea what material it was made from—some kind of metal, maybe.

As she was still trying to figure out how to get out, the door opened.

“Hello, Jiang Qing.” A woman entered. She wore rimless glasses and got straight to the point. “I’m Tang Wan, the person in charge of this situation.” As she spoke, she pulled out a stool and sat down, motioning for

Jiang Qing to do the same.

“Hello.” Jiang Qing sat down obediently.

For her, the fact that the other party was willing to talk was crucial.

After all, anyone who’s unarmed, trapped in a place like this with a collar on their neck, wouldn’t be thinking about brute force.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions. Please answer truthfully.”

“I can answer, but first I want to understand what’s going on. Like… where am I? And what is this around my neck?” Jiang Qing pointed to the collar.

Tang Wan was silent for a few seconds, then said, “You’re currently in the Fourth Subdivision of the Fast-Travel System Department. You can think of us as the agency that handles matters related to fast-travel systems. The novel you entered—Waiting for the Snow to Stop—falls under our jurisdiction.”

She adjusted her glasses. “That device on your neck is a data stabilizer. But more importantly, it’s to prevent you from escaping.”

Jiang Qing processed this quietly. The whole concept of transmigrating into a book was already fantastical, so she didn’t have trouble accepting talk about systems and departments.

“But I don’t have a system.”

“Exactly. That’s why you’re classified as an anomaly—not a designated host.” Tang Wan’s tone shifted as she asked her first question. “Did you enter Waiting for the Snow to Stop of your own free will?”

“No.” Jiang Qing didn’t want to say more than necessary. If she could answer everything with a simple yes or no, she would.

“Second question: How did you enter the novel?”

“I don’t know.” Jiang Qing had to be honest. The information gap between her and Tang Wan was too great—she had no room to maneuver.

“Third question: Did you have a goal when entering Waiting for the Snow to Stop?”

“No.”

“Fourth question.”

The interrogation went on like that for a while. Over a dozen questions later, Jiang Qing realized Tang Wan was essentially trying to determine whether her presence in the novel was intentional or if she had some hidden agenda.

“Alright, that’s the end of the protocol.” Tang Wan seemed relieved after the final question, as if she hadn’t enjoyed asking them either.

“Is Jiang Yan the host you mentioned earlier?” Jiang Qing asked.

Tang Wan didn’t answer right away. Her expression shifted slightly, and she pushed up her glasses. “You’re sharp. I only mentioned the host casually, but you’ve already figured out who it is.”

“So, Waiting for the Snow to Stop is one of her… instances?” Jiang Qing hesitated. She didn’t really want to use the word instance, but there was no better term.

“Yes. It’s her second instance, so the difficulty level was supposed to be lower. But once she entered, it registered as an S-level difficulty.” Tang Wan studied Jiang Qing, but didn’t get the reaction she was hoping for. She continued, “There was no error in our big data analysis.

The world’s setting and character dynamics shouldn’t have warranted an S-rank. The only explanation is that something went wrong with the target character’s emotional arc.”

“The target character…” Jiang Qing clenched her molars. “Was it Hou Xue?”

“Yes,” Tang Wan replied.

“And by ‘something went wrong,’ you mean… she’s hard to capture emotionally?”

“That’s one way to put it. But to be more precise—she’s already been emotionally captured. Trying to do it a second time becomes exponentially harder.”

Jiang Qing frowned unconsciously. Tang Wan’s words left a bad taste in her mouth.

“According to our data, Hou Xue is currently in love with you,” Tang Wan said. “But your information doesn’t exist in our database. No one knows how you entered the instance.”

Jiang Qing ignored the first half of that sentence and focused on the second. “So, you have to find the breach, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s a serious systems failure.”

“When can I leave?”

“After we find the breach.”

“And if you never do? Am I supposed to stay here forever?”

“For now—yes.”

Jiang Qing’s mouth went dry. She asked carefully, “And if you do find the breach, where will you send me back to?”

Tang Wan didn’t answer immediately.

Her silence made Jiang Qing uneasy.

“So, I can’t go back to my original world. And you don’t want me returning to Waiting for the Snow to Stop either, do you?”

“Sometimes being too smart isn’t such a good thing,” Tang Wan replied calmly, pushing up her glasses again. “But don’t worry too much. They were already holding a meeting before I came in—there’ll be a decision soon.”

“You’re the person in charge. Can I speak to you—negotiate, I mean?”

“We’re speaking now.”

“No—I mean, negotiate terms for me to go back to Waiting for the Snow to Stop.”

“Oh?” Tang Wan narrowed her eyes. Her expression said all she needed to.

“You want to find the breach. I want to return. If I help you find it, you let me go back.”

“And why do you think you can find it?” Tang Wan’s tone turned amused. “That would only make you look more suspicious of illegally infiltrating the system.”

“Did I overestimate your technology? Is the thing on my neck really just for data stabilization?” Jiang Qing kept a calm face, but her words were laced with challenge.

“You really are sharp,” Tang Wan said. “It does have lie-detection capabilities. Data doesn’t lie. But since you’re an anomaly, we can’t guarantee it can even measure you.”

“Sounds like you don’t have much faith in your tech,” Jiang Qing snapped, frustration creeping into her voice. Her desire to see Hou Xue again was growing unbearable.

“Jiang Qing, we’ve actually erased Hou Xue’s memories of you,” Tang Wan said smoothly. Her voice was calm, but her words pierced like a knife. “Even if you return, she won’t remember you.”

Jiang Qing sat motionless for a long time after Tang Wan left.

Maybe the others had reached a decision, or maybe Tang Wan realized she couldn’t extract anything more from her for now.

Jiang Qing had been thinking.

During their conversation, she’d already considered several things.

She hadn’t caused the story’s deviation—most likely Jiang Yan did, possibly using some kind of item. That’s how it worked in games, right? Unlimited inventory, flashy tools.

And this “Fourth Subdivision” or whatever—more advanced than even Jiang Yan—could correct world lines, erase memories, reset characters none of it seemed hard for them.

Still, she didn’t dare think too deeply. She’d clung to a sliver of hope—but that hope had just been shattered by Tang Wan.

Jiang Qing sighed.

She was shaken. Furious. Furious that they could just rewrite and erase at will, treating characters like pawns, twisting Hou Xue’s world.

Jiang Qing leaned her arms on the table and buried her face in them.

So this was it.

She was going to lose Hou Xue.

“Don’t touch me.” Hou Xue shook off Jiang Yan’s hand.

It was clear—she didn’t like this woman. What puzzled her was why her reaction was so intense. Jiang Yan had always treated her kindly—even tolerated Jiang Qing’s hostility—yet Hou Xue couldn’t stand her touching her arm.

“Xue Xue, why are you being like this with me?” Jiang Yan looked visibly hurt.

“I don’t like being touched,” Hou Xue said, turning to leave, unwilling to engage further.

“I thought we were close.”

Hou Xue ignored her and entered her room.

She tried to study. She’d taken time off work, but she couldn’t concentrate.

After Jiang Qing collapsed, she was sent to the hospital.

There was nothing physically wrong—doctors concluded she was just… asleep. But she wouldn’t wake up.

Hou Xue hadn’t visited or asked about her. She’d only heard gossip from the servants.

With Jiang Qing gone, her life had become peaceful—finally free from torment. The college entrance exams were approaching, and with no Jiang Qing stirring trouble, Hou Xue stayed low-key in class. No one bothered her. Life was routine. It should’ve been ideal.

But something still didn’t feel right.

The Jiang family mansion was large, usually housing just three people. With Jiang Yan back, there were four—but now only Hou Xue and Jiang Yan remained, as Jiang Qing was in the hospital and Jiang Xing hadn’t returned.

Hou Xue didn’t even want to be home. Mostly, she didn’t want to see Jiang Yan.

So, she usually went to Luo Qi’s internet café after school and didn’t come back until 11 p.m.

Just now, Jiang Yan expressed dissatisfaction—wanting to discipline her. Hou Xue said nothing. When she tried to leave, Jiang Yan grabbed her, and Hou Xue shook her off.

She couldn’t focus on her work. Couldn’t study. Something about being in this house stirred up strange emotions.

She pulled open a drawer and found a jewelry box—inside was a pearl ring she had meant to give Jiang Qing.

Then, beneath it, she found something that clearly wasn’t hers.

A small white cat plush.

The kind of toy she hadn’t seen since childhood. She had no idea why it was in her drawer.

Did she buy it herself?

Trying to make up for childhood regrets?

No—she didn’t want to remember that time. Why would she buy something that reminded her of it?

Hou Xue absentmindedly stroked the soft, snow-white toy.

She made a decision.

She would go to the hospital.

To see Jiang Qing.