Has The Live-in Alpha Stepped Up - Chapter 17
17: Doesn’t Seem Like Amnesia
Yu Guqiu watched as An Yizhu boldly signed her name on the blank space without hesitation.
Seemingly accustomed to the young girl’s peculiar behavior, Yu Guqiu merely reminded her calmly, “This is just a draft template. It has no legal effect.”
An Yizhu hissed softly and explained sheepishly, “Actually, I just wanted to say that I trust you won’t take advantage of me. I don’t need to scrutinize the terms so carefully. I’ll cooperate with whatever you need me to do.”
Yu Guqiu gave An Yizhu a deep look but didn’t call her out. Instead, she lowered her gaze and slowly flipped the contract past the annotations back to Clause 4.4.
Divorce Conditions:
1. Upon contract expiration, Party A will grant Party B 1% of the group’s shares and eight million in cash or equivalent assets (minimum value of ten million) as permanent living security.
2. Party A reserves the right to unilaterally terminate the marriage. In such cases, Party A will compensate Party B with five million in cash or equivalent assets as emotional damages.
“As long as you’re willing to cooperate, I can guarantee both the monthly living expenses and the compensation in the future.” Yu Guqiu said, softening her tone.
For some reason, she was genuinely worried that this little Alpha had agreed to the contractual marriage because of some impulsive infatuation. Mentioning “divorce” now might hurt her feelings.
When An Yizhu saw the words “divorce conditions,” her heart did skip a beat. But after reading the compensation details, her eyes sparkled rapidly.
How was Yu Guqiu anything like a villain?
Where was the black-heartedness?
She was so generous—truly a kind and magnanimous boss!
“Don’t worry, Boss! I’ll definitely complete the mission!” An Yizhu raised her hand, radiating the fervor of a loyal subordinate pledging allegiance to CEO Yu.
Seeing how naturally An Yizhu accepted this, Yu Guqiu frowned, an inexplicable irritation flaring up inside her.
She had indeed been too careless, believing that nonsense earlier.
But An Yizhu’s attitude of treating her as a boss was correct—exactly what she needed.
No unnecessary emotions, just wholehearted cooperation to complete the task. That was perfect.
Yu Guqiu didn’t say another word. After making minor revisions to the prenuptial agreement, she printed two formal copies, swiftly signed her name in the Party A section, and handed them to An Yizhu.
An Yizhu followed suit, quickly signing her name in the Party B section.
Looking at the now-effective prenuptial agreement—though the contract period was only two years, though the terms ended with “divorce conditions”—the fact that the two of them had secretly completed this private contract in the office made An Yizhu feel an intimacy even greater than marriage itself.
After signing, An Yizhu turned to Yu Guqiu with a smile.
But Yu Guqiu’s expression remained cold. She turned away, locked the freshly signed contract into the safe, and stood up.
“Your differentiation records have already been submitted to the police by the hospital. Let’s go—first to update your ID, then to the civil affairs bureau for the marriage registration,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Huh—?” An Yizhu hadn’t expected things to move so fast.
Yu Guqiu didn’t give her time to react. Following her own pace, she said, “You can call me ‘Boss’ if you want, or treat me as a business partner. The agreement takes effect immediately. I do need you to provide certain conveniences for me, and in return, you’ll receive the benefits you deserve. Mutual gain.”
With that, she walked toward the door, her demeanor purely professional.
At the doorway, Yu Guqiu still paused to wait—for her business partner.
Under Yu Guqiu’s pointed gaze, An Yizhu jogged to catch up.
Only then did Yu Guqiu push the door open.
Before An Yizhu could react, Yu Guqiu wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the room.
This time, the secretaries in the outer office didn’t dare peek or whisper.
As Yu Guqiu’s long-time confidants, they were adept at reading her moods.
Right now, they knew better than to show curiosity.
When Yu Guqiu had entered the office earlier, her aura had been relaxed. But now, she radiated irritation.
The moment the elevator doors closed, Yu Guqiu withdrew her hand, putting an invisible wall between herself and An Yizhu.
If the secretaries could sense the tension, An Yizhu, who was directly facing the frostiness, naturally felt it too.
But she couldn’t figure out who had suddenly angered Yu Guqiu.
There had only been the two of them in the room earlier.
Had she upset her?
Impossible!
Absolutely impossible!
She had been nothing but obedient and cooperative, never misspeaking.
An Yizhu, the genius, quickly reached an epiphany: I get it. Even though Yu Guqiu made the choice to marry, she was forced into it by circumstances. The Ice Queen must just be angry about the idea of marrying a stranger!
Not wanting to provoke further displeasure, An Yizhu stayed silent, following Yu Guqiu into the backseat of the car just like that morning.
As soon as they were seated, Xie Fang started the car—she already knew their destination.
Yu Guqiu retrieved an opened kraft paper envelope from the document compartment in the backseat.
In a businesslike tone, she handed An Yizhu a bank card. “After you reapply for your bank card, your allowance will be transferred there. Use this one for now. The PIN is my birthday—memorize it.”
“April 20th,” An Yizhu said immediately. Of course she knew Yu Guqiu’s birthday.
Yu Guqiu had been born on Guyu, the last solar term of spring. Her mother had hoped that the child born in spring would reap a bountiful harvest in autumn, hence the name Guqiu (谷秋, “Grain Autumn”).
Trying to lighten the mood, An Yizhu volunteered another fact: “And my birthday is April 19th—one day before yours.”
Yu Guqiu already knew An Yizhu’s birthday too.
She handed An Yizhu another stack of papers from the envelope. “Take a look.”
These were the investigative records Yu Guqiu had commissioned about An Yizhu.
An Yizhu accepted them eagerly.
But the contents were still disappointingly sparse.
Six pages in total, with the last three mostly filled with the investigative company’s self-criticism. Of the remaining three, one entire page was medical records, and another was academic transcripts.
Not that the investigative company could be blamed.
Upon closer inspection, the original An Yizhu’s life had indeed been shockingly uneventful.
Abandoned at the doorstep of an orphanage as a baby, she had nearly died due to poor health but was saved by the director’s efforts.
She had followed the standard path of schooling.
The only remarkable thing was that, despite working part-time all along, she had managed to test into Jiangcheng’s top university.
However, after barely scraping in, her grades had plummeted, putting her at risk of repeating a year.
After reading everything, An Yizhu fell silent for a moment.
No matter how vivid her imagination, it was hard to piece together what kind of person the original An Yizhu had been from such scant information.
At least it was all clean and unproblematic.
She returned the stack to Yu Guqiu. “Seems fine. We probably only need to inform the orphanage director about our marriage.”
Yu Guqiu had been observing An Yizhu’s reaction, but the girl spoke as if she were a detached third party—not even like someone with amnesia, but as if she weren’t this person at all.
An absurd thought struck Yu Guqiu: What if the An Yizhu before me isn’t An Yizhu at all? What if even the investigation results are fabricated?
But that was impossible.
In this technologically advanced era, no one could perfectly forge an identity without leaving traces—unless the scheme had been in the works for decades.
But who would meticulously orchestrate the ruin of someone’s entire life over twenty years, just to target her?