Guide To Lying Flat And Getting Rich As A Kept Alpha - Chapter 17

17

Luo Hetu took her business card and saw the title “Chairman” following the name Cheng Youqing.

A chairman at such a young age was indeed rare in the business world.

The Cheng Group was no longer in its prime. It primarily manufactured home appliances and was considered one of the top five major enterprises in Jiang City. Its products were distributed nationwide, but in recent years, poor management and severe internal conflicts had allowed competitors to encroach on its market share. The upper management was embroiled in constant power struggles. Cheng Youqing, young as she was, had taken the helm, facing immense challenges. She was pushing bold reforms while fending off opportunistic rivals taking advantage of the company’s weakened state. Beset by internal and external troubles, her position was far from easy.

Luo Hetu didn’t say much. After all, what could a commoner like her say to a chairman who carried herself with such poise?

As she walked toward Cheng Youqing to see her out, she suddenly saw the woman sway toward her.

Instinctively cautious, Luo Hetu’s first reaction was to dodge. She wasn’t about to let just anyone get too close.

But before she could step aside, Cheng Youqing collapsed sideways, clearly not faking it.

Luo Hetu was momentarily speechless. Fortunately, her reflexes were quick, and she caught Cheng Youqing just before she hit the ground, helping her up.

“Ms. Cheng, are you okay?”

A chairman of her stature—if something happened to her in Luo Hetu’s rented apartment, there was no way she could afford the consequences.

Cheng Youqing didn’t respond.

She had fainted in Luo Hetu’s arms.

Luo Hetu: …

What was she supposed to do now?

Bending down, she scooped Cheng Youqing up.

At about 163 cm tall, Cheng Youqing usually exuded an aura that made her seem larger than life, almost towering at 2.8 meters. But in Luo Hetu’s arms, she felt small and slight. With the strength of an alpha, carrying her was like holding a bundle of cotton.

It didn’t feel right to place her in the bedroom, so Luo Hetu laid her down in the living room. She fetched a pillow, cushions, and a blanket from the bedroom, propping her up comfortably and covering her with the blanket.

Then, grabbing her keys, Luo Hetu headed downstairs to find Cheng Youqing’s driver or assistant to take her home or to a hospital.

Just as she turned to leave, someone tugged at her sleeve.

Cheng Youqing, now awake, held on tightly.

“Ms. Cheng, I’m going to call your driver to take you home.”

Cheng Youqing’s usually cold, sharp eyes now looked fragile, stripped of their usual iciness and tinged with a vulnerable, almost captivating weakness.

“No need,” she said softly. “I’m hungry.”

Luo Hetu: …?

“I’m not joking. I’m also exhausted. I haven’t rested properly in days, and I don’t think I’ve eaten much since yesterday.”

Cheng Youqing closed her eyes briefly. What she didn’t say was that her endocrine system was in disarray, and her already irregular heat cycle was showing signs of coming early. Luo Hetu’s faint alpha pheromones were just right, soothing her in a way that felt almost perfect.

Her body was on the verge of collapse. For someone accustomed to enduring as a way of life, being enveloped in those comforting pheromones was like a taut string suddenly snapping, leaving her drained.

All she needed now was to sleep next to Luo Hetu, wake up, and eat something. No treatment could be more effective than that.

So she said, “Let me rest here for a bit. When I wake up, I’ll compensate you.”

As dusk settled in, Cheng Youqing woke feeling utterly drained. The faint alpha pheromones in the air were now overlaid with another scent.

Luo Hetu was cooking.

The kitchen door was closed, but the hum of the range hood and the clatter of a spatula against the pan filtered through. The sounds weren’t loud; they were almost like soothing white noise, lulling her back toward sleep.

For a moment, Cheng Youqing felt as if she were at Sun Jin’s house.

She hadn’t slept enough, so she turned over, only to realize she was lying on a hard sofa, not a bed. It was uncomfortably firm.

She frowned. It had been so long since she’d had a proper chance to sleep, and now this rare moment of rest was being disrupted by an uncomfortable surface. Her chronic insomnia had built up a reservoir of irritability.

The kitchen door opened. Luo Hetu, her hair tied back in a small braid and wearing an apron, was plating the food she’d cooked. The warm yellow light from the kitchen illuminated her simple apricot-colored shirt, giving her a cozy, homely charm—an attractive alpha radiating the comforting aroma of home-cooked food.

Catching sight of Cheng Youqing, Luo Hetu said, “You’re awake. Perfect timing. Wash your hands and get ready to eat.”

Cheng Youqing had meant to say she wanted to sleep in the bedroom.

But seeing the food, she realized she was ravenous.

Resigned, she went to wash her hands. By the time she returned, Luo Hetu had set out two dishes and a bowl of soup on the coffee table.

“No dining table?” Cheng Youqing asked.

“I eat alone. Don’t need one.”

As she spoke, Luo Hetu turned on the TV.

She still clung to habits from her previous life: eating alone meant either watching something on the computer or the TV. Without some “digital seasoning,” food just didn’t taste as good.

The TV was playing a melodramatic idol drama from Hong Kong or Taiwan, with an omega’s saccharine voice droning like a chant.

Luo Hetu handed Cheng Youqing a cushion and sat on one herself. “Sit. It’s a bit simple, but if you don’t mind…”

Cheng Youqing hesitated, then sat on the cushion, legs tucked to one side.

It had been a long time since she’d sat so casually. Even at Sun Jin’s house, where she felt at ease, she always maintained a proper posture.

Luo Hetu sat cross-legged, relaxed, pouring Cheng Youqing a glass of warm water. In front of them was a small bowl of rice and two dishes: stir-fried beef with yellow peppers and dried tofu with green peppers.

“Not sure if you can handle spicy food, but these peppers aren’t too hot,” Luo Hetu said, piling some of the dishes onto her rice. “Don’t be shy. A big-shot chairman like you doesn’t visit often, so eat up before you go.”

Cheng Youqing sampled each dish delicately, then picked up her bowl.

After finishing one bowl of rice, Luo Hetu asked, “Want more?”

Cheng Youqing looked at her.

Luo Hetu got up. “I’ll get you another serving.”

The two of them polished off both dishes. When Cheng Youqing couldn’t eat anymore, Luo Hetu scooped the remaining rice into the beef dish’s plate, poured the green pepper and dried tofu dish—sauce and all—over it, and scraped the plates clean.

Cheng Youqing couldn’t help but think, somewhat inappropriately, that Luo Hetu was a bit like an endearing little pig.

Anyone would want a child like Luo Hetu—someone who ate heartily and with such relish.