Guide To Lying Flat And Getting Rich As A Kept Alpha - Chapter 44
44
Today is Saturday.
Cheng Youqing remembered the events of the second, fourth, and sixth days.
After taking a bath, she grabbed a slightly oversized hairdryer and went to find Luo Hetu.
“Blow my hair,” she said, handing the large hairdryer to her.
The hairdryer was a product of one of the companies under the Cheng Corporation. The Cheng Corporation had started as a home appliance business and still held a significant position in the domestic appliance industry.
Luo Hetu plugged in the hairdryer, holding the somewhat heavy device while yawning as she dried Cheng Youqing’s hair.
Cheng Youqing: “Tired?”
“Not tired.” Luo Hetu said, closing her yawning mouth. “Blowing my wife’s hair—what’s tiring about that?”
“You were yawning.”
“I’m just sleepy.”
“Then forget it, go rest.”
Luo Hetu stayed silent, diligently drying her hair. Her fingers carefully ran through the smooth, silky strands, ensuring they were completely dry before putting the hairdryer away. Then, with both hands propped on the bed, she leaned her small face close to Cheng Youqing’s.
“You’re teasing me.”
Cheng Youqing blinked: “What do you mean, teasing?”
Luo Hetu didn’t know how to explain, so she rephrased: “You’re doing it on purpose. You’re flirting with me.”
Cheng Youqing felt like she was being falsely accused.
She was clearly just trying to have a bit of fun with her.
The innocent-looking Cheng Youqing was pushed down onto the bed by Luo Hetu, about to enjoy her Sunday wifely duties, when she suddenly hit the brakes, remembering something: “I need to talk to you about something serious.”
“I have a female alpha under me—she’s tough. Let her follow you. I’m worried about that petty guy Zhang Sheng. He might hold a grudge because you took the East City project from him. You can just call her Shisan. If you agree, I’ll have her report to the Cheng Corporation tomorrow.”
Cheng Youqing lay on the bed, looking at her. Luo Hetu’s eyes were clear, and it genuinely seemed like she was looking out for her.
So Cheng Youqing blinked: “Do you realize how dangerous this behavior looks to outsiders? First, you entice me to invest in real estate, then you ask for a storefront and a house for yourself, and now you’re placing someone by my side. The next step would be asking for a position at the Cheng Corporation, then slowly getting me to give you more power and money. In short, it looks like you have ulterior motives.”
Luo Hetu mimicked her blinking and let out an “oh”: “So, what do you think?”
Cheng Youqing paused for two seconds, her eyes narrowing seductively, wordlessly alluring.
She wrapped her arms around Luo Hetu’s neck: “If you perform well tonight, I’ll believe you’re just trying to be good to me.”
After hearing her words, Luo Hetu suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
Maybe she was just joking.
But Luo Hetu genuinely only wanted to be good to her.
Whether she performed well in bed wasn’t the point—she’d never act like this with anyone else. She wasn’t that kind of person.
Her head buried in Cheng Youqing’s neck, she felt a bit wronged, but under the influence of pheromones, the grievance didn’t last long.
She gradually understood what Cheng Youqing meant when she said she hated alphas and hated pheromones. Like now, no matter whether there were feelings between them, they were overwhelmed by the tidal wave of pheromone-driven desire, forcing them to want to meld into each other’s bodies, becoming creatures driven by biological needs, unsure how much was rational and how much was emotional.
The next morning, though she wasn’t completely drained thanks to being in better health recently, Luo Hetu, still lazy, stayed in bed. For once, her eyes didn’t follow Cheng Youqing around. Instead, she stared at the pillow, seemingly lost in thought.
Cheng Youqing stood by the bed without saying a word. Only then did Luo Hetu snap out of it, her gaze landing on Cheng Youqing’s meticulously made-up face.
Cheng Youqing’s expression was neutral.
Luo Hetu sat up, scooting closer, her arms wrapping around Cheng Youqing’s waist as she tilted her face up to nuzzle against her cheek.
Cheng Youqing’s cold expression softened. She left a lipstick mark on Luo Hetu’s face, slightly satisfied, and went to work.
Luo Hetu sat for a while longer, as if making up her mind about something. She got up with renewed energy.
She paged Shisan, instructing her to report to the Cheng Corporation, then ate breakfast, worked out, and headed to the Sike Internet Café.
Yesterday, Xiao Si had called her, saying a scruffy homeless man wanted to see the boss. Shiyi had already thrown him out several times, but he kept coming back, undeterred even after a beating, insisting on meeting her.
“Does it affect business?”
“Not really. The people coming to surf the internet are so addicted they don’t have time to care about this.”
Luo Hetu nodded.
When she rode her old-fashioned bicycle to the Sike Internet Café, Xiao Si was shocked. Once, Xiao Liu had mentioned that Luo Hetu’s current home was over ten kilometers away from the café.
Stammering, Xiao Si said, “T-T-Teacher, you didn’t ride your bike all the way from home, did you?”
Luo Hetu insisted they call her “Teacher” to avoid drawing too much attention, not wanting to be called “Boss.” But what was with this “T-T-Teacher” nonsense?
Luo Hetu deliberately put on a stern face: “I’m only three years older than you. Am I old?”
“Not old.” Xiao Si said, blushing. “That guy came again today. He insisted on using the internet and said he’d make a scene if we didn’t let him. Xiao Shi already beat him up once, but he’s tough. In the end, he pulled out fifty bucks from his pocket. I saw he really didn’t have much money, so I let him use the computer for an hour and a half.”
“Hm, as long as it’s not out of line, you make the call.” Luo Hetu said, glancing at the man.
A scruffy man with a stubbly beard, clearly unwashed for days. Luo Hetu had no desire to talk to him, but since he’d come multiple times, she vaguely felt she should give him a chance to explain himself.
If it didn’t work out, she’d have Xiao Shi and Shiyi kick him out.
She waved a hand, and Xiao Shi and Shiyi came over. She walked up to the man: “I heard you’ve been looking for me.”
The man was scratching his chin, visibly rubbing off dirt.
Shiyi made a disgusted noise, and Xiao Shi said, “Boss, don’t stop me. I’ve been wanting to deal with him for a while!”
Luo Hetu: …
She hadn’t even said anything. What was this about?
The man was engrossed in his computer, his mind seemingly slow to process. Luo Hetu glanced at the screen—he was reading news about the internet and had a page open with red and green lines. Luo Hetu recognized it: stocks.
The man was grimacing as he looked at the screen. The stocks were plummeting, their name listed as “Hanyu Technology.”
Luo Hetu unconsciously mimicked his chin-scratching.
Interesting. The book didn’t mention this. But Luo Hetu had seen the company’s name in newspapers and magazines.
She glanced at Shi.
Though Ye Qingzhu’s subordinates were all alphas, the male alphas’ intelligence seemed generally questionable, most of them brawny but brainless. Fortunately, Xiao Shi was relatively sharp and could pick up on what Luo Hetu meant.
So Shi’s big hand slapped the man’s back: “Our boss is talking to you!”
The man: …
Luo Hetu coughed lightly: “Hello, I heard you’ve been looking for me for days. I’m the owner of Sike Internet Café.”
The man sized her up, frowning: “You’re lying. You’re just a kid.”
Luo Hetu: “Thanks for saying I look young.”
The man shook his head: “Don’t trick me. If the boss doesn’t show, I’m not leaving.”
Xiao Shi rolled up his sleeves: “Hey, you—”
Luo Hetu cut in: “You didn’t lose money in the internet industry and, with no one willing to invest in you, heard about the country’s first internet café, so you came to see who this forward-thinking person is, hoping they’d invest in you to make a comeback, right?”
The man’s hand froze on the mouse.
Luo Hetu: Ha.
Though it wasn’t in the book, this world’s development trajectory was similar to the real world. Once the internet emerged, a wave of pioneers would ride the tide, but foreign experiences couldn’t be directly applied domestically. Luo Hetu had been keeping up with current events. Besides the magazines Cheng Youqing subscribed to, she’d also browsed foreign news online. Due to misjudgments, the first batch of domestic internet companies was already facing issues—stocks were falling, and no one wanted to buy even when they tried to sell off assets.
Luo Hetu, knowing she didn’t have much money and wasn’t ambitious, had no intention of entering the internet industry. She’d read about it but treated it as passing information.
She didn’t expect someone to come knocking.
The man stood up abruptly, reaching for Luo Hetu’s clothes, but she dodged.
“No need to be so enthusiastic.” Luo Hetu said, suppressing the urge to tell him to take a shower first. Xiao Si said he was stingy, and while she didn’t believe he couldn’t afford a bath, who knew what kind of mental state these failed entrepreneurs were in?
She led him to the frosted-glass warehouse, leaving Shiyi behind, mainly worried that Xiao Shi was too impulsive.
The man didn’t even sit down before eagerly speaking: “What’s your surname, boss?”
“Luo.”
“I’m Zhang Hanyu. Hanyu Technology is the company I founded after graduating university, seeing the potential of the internet. I had big ambitions, and the company did well at first, but I didn’t expect it to hit a bottleneck so soon. Let me be clear: I’m not here to beg. I just believe the internet has huge potential, but no one trusts me now! When I heard the country’s first internet café was thriving in Jiang City, I came. Someone who can open an internet café must have money and believe in the internet’s vast potential. If I may be so bold, I believe that in the future, most of the country’s economic growth will rely on the internet. It could become a pillar industry!”
Even the usually calm Shiyi glanced at Luo Hetu, her eyes saying one thing: He’s talking nonsense.
Of course he was. From the current perspective, aside from a few sci-fi writers and visionary thinkers, most people wouldn’t believe how much the internet would transform human life.
But that wasn’t Luo Hetu’s concern—she just wanted to make money.
She studied Zhang Hanyu: “Get to the point.”
“Let’s partner.”
“You want me to give you money?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“But I don’t have much money right now.”
Zhang Hanyu gave her a look that said, You’re messing with me. He glanced outside, his meaning clear even to Shiyi: No money, yet you opened such a big internet café, charging 40 yuan an hour and raking in cash?
Luo Hetu didn’t respond to his implication: “Since it’s a business partnership, let’s do it properly. You get your lawyer, I’ll get my people. I need to thoroughly assess whether your company has potential. Let me reintroduce myself: I’m Luo Hetu. I only invest in businesses that make money. It’s your luck that you found me, but whether you pass my test is up to your ability. The term might not exist yet, but you can call me an angel investor.”