Has The Live-in Alpha Stepped Up - Chapter 23

23: Little Zhuzhu~

An Yizhu and Yu Guqiu returned home.

Once again, An Yizhu followed Yu Guqiu through the door.

Strangely enough, even though she had only stayed here for one night, she already felt a sense of belonging—a feeling of “home.”

This emotion was so real that it made her inexplicably nostalgic.

Not to mention, today she would have a room of her own.

As soon as she entered, she could see the items she had purchased earlier piled outside the second bedroom.

Her things.

Chosen by her.

Though not many, they were enough to turn the second bedroom into her own little nest!

Yu Guqiu watched as An Yizhu excitedly dashed toward the second bedroom, feeling an indescribable sense of satisfaction.

She frowned slightly, wondering where this satisfaction came from.

If she had to explain it, it might be because the house now had a lively, energetic being full of expectations for life—one who posed no threat or intrusion toward her.

Yu Guqiu liked this feeling.

[Hmm, maybe it’s the kind of satisfaction that comes from keeping a pet.]

She rationalized it to herself.

“Tomorrow, handle your school matters yourself. In the afternoon, report to Building 29 in the CBD.” Yu Guqiu said. “Your job has been arranged at Guangying Xinghui Media under the Yu Group. It’s a screenwriter position, which aligns with your major.”

An Yizhu dropped the decoration in her hand and straightened up, feeling dizzy.

Not from lack of bl00d flow, but because her mind was in turmoil.

Guangying Xinghui Media?!

Wasn’t that the very battlefield where Yu Guqiu became the ultimate villain in the latter half of the original story?

And now she was being sent there?

Was she supposed to compete with the original female Alpha lead for screenwriting glory?

How was that possible?

She didn’t even know how to be a screenwriter!

If they really wanted a job that matched her skills, they might as well assign her to something like the animation department.

An Yizhu’s heart was bitter, but she couldn’t say a word.

“The media company was founded by my Omega grandmother. It’s in the same business district as the group headquarters but has remained at its original location and hasn’t moved. When you go tomorrow, ask for directions first so you don’t get lost,” Yu Guqiu added, seeing An Yizhu frozen in place, clearly at a loss.

“Got it.” An Yizhu knew.

Because the original story had mentioned Guangying Xinghui Media.

It was established by Yu Guqiu’s Omega grandmother, Ai Qi, before she met Yu Guqiu’s Alpha grandmother, the former Yu Group CEO, Yu Shanmei.

During Ai Qi’s time, the company had been at its peak.

In fact, Ai Qi’s media company had been the biggest financial pillar for Yu Shanmei when she first founded Yuhe Pharmaceuticals.

At the height of the Yu Group’s power, Yu Shanmei bought another office building near the media company for the group headquarters.

Now, without its leader, the media company had fallen from grace earlier than the Yu Group.

But this couldn’t be blamed on Yu Shanmei. After her wife Ai Qi passed away, she hadn’t slacked off—it was just that she wasn’t skilled in the ways of the entertainment industry.

In the end, she could only assign Yu Guqiu’s aunt, Yu Liu, to a nominal position there, leaving the rest to the old employees to manage independently.

Fortunately, the old employees cherished the company’s reputation, keeping it steadily within the top ten of media companies.

This was also one of the reasons why, in the original story, Yu Guqiu was able to quickly dominate and gain significant influence after pivoting to focus on film and television.

Was the groundwork for the main plot starting now?

With her presence as a wildcard, could the original trajectory be disrupted?

An Yizhu muttered to herself as she tidied up the second bedroom.

After organizing the second bedroom, taking a shower, and comfortably lying in bed, An Yizhu fiddled with her phone, logging into all of the original owner’s accounts.

They were all clean, with almost no traces left behind.

Only the messaging app had a flood of caring texts from “Old An.”

Other than that, for the past two days, there had been nothing.

An Yizhu first sent a message to “Old An”: “Guqiu and I are already home.”

Director An didn’t reply immediately.

At this hour, the welfare institute was probably busy bathing the children and putting them to bed.

As An Yizhu scrolled through the chat interface, she suddenly realized a problem—she didn’t even have Yu Guqiu’s contact info.

They were married!

Sure, they weren’t sharing a room, but not even being friends on social media was a bit much, wasn’t it?

The thought made An Yizhu crawl out from under the covers.

She pushed the door open and stepped out.

The living room wasn’t lit, and even the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows were tightly drawn. The only light in the room came from her half-open bedroom door.

Not even a sliver of light seeped out from under the master bedroom door.

Was Yu Guqiu already asleep?

An Yizhu lowered her hand, which had been poised to knock.

Forget it, I can add her tomorrow…

“What’s wrong?” Yu Guqiu opened the door.

She stood in the shadows, the only light in her room coming from a warm-toned desk lamp, its glow reflecting faintly off her pure black satin pajamas.

An Yizhu’s heart raced from the scare. She patted her chest and couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you so sensitive to my pheromones when I can’t sense yours at all?”

Yu Guqiu replied, “You mean, how did I notice you jumping out of bed, barging out of your room, and running to my door? I didn’t need pheromones to hear all that.”

The vivid description made it clear just how much noise An Yizhu had made.

“Oh, really? Sorry~” An Yizhu was quick to apologize but couldn’t resist teasing, “I didn’t expect such a high-end place to have such poor soundproofing.”

Yu Guqiu admitted this was true. Since she had never considered sharing the space with anyone else, she hadn’t prioritized soundproofing—except for the study—when moving in quickly.

The second bedroom had originally been intended for demolition, but the designer’s plan noted that it had a load-bearing wall that couldn’t be removed.

At the time, Yu Guqiu had no particular use for it, so she left it as is.

But she saw no need to explain this to An Yizhu.

Instead, she simply stared at her.

An Yizhu was still wearing the same old pajamas from yesterday.

Didn’t this person think to buy new ones when she went shopping today? Does she really like my old pajamas that much?

Yu Guqiu’s gaze fell on An Yizhu’s phone. “So, what did you come to me for?”

An Yizhu held up her phone. “Well, I realized we haven’t added each other as friends. We don’t even have each other’s contact info. Isn’t that weird?”

“189XXXXX888,” Yu Guqiu recited directly. “My phone number is the same as my social media account.”

“Got it, I’ll add you now.” An Yizhu input the number and added a note in one go: “Wife.”

“?” Yu Guqiu hadn’t expected An Yizhu to say that. The sudden address made her tense up as she stared at An Yizhu.

The other person didn’t even seem aware of the shock she’d caused.

Yu Guqiu felt inexplicably irritated.

An Yizhu, oblivious, happily showed Yu Guqiu her newly saved contact: “See? This makes it more realistic. If someone sees it, they won’t suspect anything.”

Yu Guqiu didn’t comment, simply closing the door.

Her warning came through the door: “If there’s nothing else, go to sleep early. Don’t disturb me in the middle of the night again.”

“Okaaay—yes, boss!” An Yizhu shouted cheerfully at the closed door.

Back in her room, An Yizhu lay down again just as her phone buzzed with a friend request acceptance.

Delighted, she clicked into Yu Guqiu’s profile, ready to explore.

Yu Guqiu’s profile picture wasn’t as serious as she’d imagined.

It was a photo of her wearing a trench coat, her long hair cascading down her back as she stood on an ancient city wall, facing the distance.

An Yizhu went to the contact details, changing “Yu Guqiu” to “Guqiu” with a simple heart emoji, then pinned it to the top.

Done. Next, she checked Yu Guqiu’s social feed.

The feed was completely open, but the content was scarce—just a few travel photos from vacations over the years and some records of meetings she’d attended.

In recent years, even the travel photos had disappeared.

The profile picture had been taken three years ago.

An Yizhu scrolled all the way to the bottom, then refreshed the page. A new post appeared at the top.

No caption, just a photo.

Thump-thump—

The photo was of their marriage certificate. An Yizhu didn’t know when Yu Guqiu had taken it, but seeing her publicly declare their relationship so boldly made her heart race uncontrollably.

She hurriedly saved the photo and made her own post with a simple caption: a smug smiley face.

Then, she liked Yu Guqiu’s post and commented with a kissing emoji, her heart pounding the whole time.

Yu Guqiu had posted this to intimidate her relatives and deter any “admirers” lurking in her friends list.

She didn’t care how much of a stir it would cause in Jiangcheng or how many people would lose sleep over it.

As she scrolled through the flood of likes and comments, one stood out—a childish cartoon rice ball avatar amid the sea of travel photos and selfies.

This cartoon rice ball had even left a “kiss” comment.

Yu Guqiu found it oddly amusing but didn’t reply.

She set her phone aside and went to sleep.

Meanwhile, in the second bedroom, An Yizhu wasn’t falling asleep so easily. She spent the rest of her time scouring the internet for more public information about Yu Guqiu.

Originally, she wanted to be diligent—after all, she had to earn that 400,000-yuan monthly salary. She needed to understand the public’s perception of Yu Guqiu and learn more about the Yu Group.

But as she read, she couldn’t absorb a single word. Instead, she found herself staring at countless beautiful photos.

She even stumbled upon an especially adorable one—a viral photo of a young Yu Guqiu taken by her Omega grandmother.

One glance, and An Yizhu’s heart melted.

Little Yu Guqiu, just like now, wore a cold expression when not smiling. But her chubby, pink cheeks were irresistibly pinchable.

So cute!

Why couldn’t I have time-traveled to that era? I could’ve kidnapped the little one and pinched her cheeks!

The government encourages having kids, right?

I want this one!

An Yizhu even managed to find a high-resolution version of the photo, saving it as her phone wallpaper.

At some point after that, she fell asleep hugging her phone, thoroughly satisfied.

The next morning, An Yizhu thought she had woken up early—8:30—and rushed out of her room.

But the study was quiet, the master bedroom showed no signs of movement, and the entire apartment was empty. Yu Guqiu was already gone.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the bustling streets of Jiangcheng made the minimalist interior feel even colder.

Did Yu Guqiu ever feel lonely living here alone?

For some reason, An Yizhu recalled Yu Guqiu’s desolate figure on the hospital rooftop.

Even someone as aloof as Yu Guqiu must have felt lonely at times.

Dragging her feet listlessly, An Yizhu made her way to the kitchen.

Breakfast was toast again.

Today, she had to use the toaster herself, which felt even sadder.

After breakfast, on the subway to her university, she received a message from “Guqiu (Heart).”

Just seeing the contact name made An Yizhu smile involuntarily.

No matter how brief Yu Guqiu’s message was, An Yizhu could mentally supplement it with an imaginary wink.

Guqiu (Heart): “After reporting to the media company this afternoon, come straight to my office. No need to stay there.”

An Yizhu: “Okie~”

At that moment, in her office, Yu Guqiu stared at the reply for a few seconds.

How does this person manage to make even a two-word response sound like an entire speech?

“President Yu?” Lin Meng entered to report on work but noticed Yu Guqiu staring at her phone.

Yu Guqiu set her phone aside. “Are the invitations ready?”

“Yes. As you instructed, we only sent them to close family, friends from influential families, and key business partners, so the quantity was small. The custom order was expedited. But regarding Old President Yu…” Lin Meng reminded her cautiously.

Yu Guqiu nodded. “I know. Grandma has returned from Beijing. I’ll handle her personally.”

Lin Meng nodded as well, then added, “And your father… how should we notify him?”

Yu Guqiu’s light-colored eyes turned frosty. She scoffed. “Auntie and the others must have already told him. If he hasn’t reacted by now, it’s either because he can’t be bothered or he’s waiting to deal with it after returning. Either way, it won’t affect my plans.”

Lin Meng nodded again. Having fulfilled her duty as a secretary to remind her boss, she adjusted her thick black-framed glasses and continued, “These documents require your review. As you requested, we’ve compiled a list of recent failed projects. Most were due to insufficient funding.”

Yu Guqiu took the file and tapped its cover. “Funding… I know. You may leave.”

Lin Meng promptly exited the office.

An Yizhu transferred subway lines twice before finally arriving at the university district.

Jiangcheng University was the city’s top school, with a sprawling campus spread across multiple locations.

Before setting out, An Yizhu had searched online several times to confirm her destination—the College of Culture and Media at the main campus.

Over breakfast, she had already texted her “Academic Advisor” on social media.

The “Academic Advisor” was the only other contact besides “Old An” who had left messages of concern in the chat history.

Clearly, this advisor needed careful handling.

The message she sent during breakfast was answered almost instantly. The advisor assured her he was always in his office and to contact him upon arrival.

He sounded almost… submissive.

When An Yizhu arrived at the office, she met a meek-looking male Omega in his early thirties.

His desk placard read: Academic Advisor, Ye Sansi.

An Yizhu got straight to the point, explaining her situation over the past two days.

Ye Sansi, seeing An Yizhu’s completely transformed demeanor, was pleasantly surprised. “Your internship at the Yu Group has already been confirmed. I never expected… I mean, that’s amazing! Landing an internship at a major company early is impressive. I’m relieved.”

He handed her the prepared documents and materials, adding, “Your status as an Alpha has been updated. Your student ID needs to be reissued. But since your original dorm was already a mixed Beta/Alpha arrangement with only one Beta roommate, I asked her, and she doesn’t mind. So, we won’t reassign your dorm.”

“Got it. But there’s one thing—I’ll be interning, so I might not be back often. I’d like to apply for off-campus housing.” An Yizhu stated her request.

“Understood. Seniors like you aren’t monitored closely by dorm supervisors anyway. Just notify them yourself. I’ll prepare your internship leave slip.” Ye Sansi efficiently processed everything and handed it to her.

An Yizhu took the documents, asked for her dorm location, thanked him politely, and left.

After she left, Ye Sansi wiped his sweat.

A colleague patted his shoulder. “Not easy, huh? At least this troublemaker seems to have turned a corner.”

Ye Sansi looked like he might cry. “Seriously, it’s been so hard. She seems better now. Let’s hope she doesn’t cause any more drama.”

An Yizhu wandered the campus, watching students bustling about, full of vitality, chatting about all sorts of topics.

This is university life!

The freedom!

Suppressing the urge to follow random students to their classes, An Yizhu soaked in the atmosphere briefly before locating her dorm building.

A plain, seven-story walk-up. Her dorm was on the top floor, but she bounded up the stairs energetically.

At Room 707, she unlocked the door with her nondescript key but found no roommate inside.

The dorm was a four-person room, but for various reasons, only two beds were occupied—one in each far corner.

A single glance told An Yizhu that the desk near the door, almost devoid of personal items, must be hers.

She guessed the original owner hadn’t been close with her roommate either, since there were no contact details exchanged.

But An Yizhu left a note for her roommate.

Skilled at drawing and with excellent handwriting, she briefly explained her situation, left her contact info, and expressed hope for a good relationship moving forward.

After handling everything at school, An Yizhu didn’t have time for a proper meal in the cafeteria. She grabbed a meat floss bun from the convenience store, took a few bites, and boarded the subway again.

An Yizhu mused that Yu Guqiu, who always had a private chauffeur, must have underestimated the distance between the university district and the business center.

The subway didn’t face traffic jams, but it required three transfers.

An Yizhu barely made it to the company building right as the lunch break ended.

The office building of Guangying Xinghui Media had a completely different style from the Yu Group’s headquarters, despite both being in the CBD.

When An Yizhu had drawn this shorter building in the original story, she’d put thought into making its reflection in the plaza’s fountain resemble a camera.

The entrance was at the “base” of the camera.

An Yizhu approached the front desk, about to ask where to report for onboarding, when someone walked over.

“You’re here. Follow me.”

An Yizhu looked up in surprise.

It was Yu Liu, whom she’d met in Yu Guqiu’s hospital room.

Clearly, Yu Guqiu had informed Yu Liu, but her timing was so precise—it felt overly attentive!

An Yizhu followed Yu Liu without question.

The two receptionists exchanged glances, barely containing their gossipy excitement.

Yu Liu held a nominal position at the media company but was technically the HR director, instantly elevating An Yizhu’s perceived status.

An Yizhu had no idea she was being hyped up as some mysterious powerhouse. After passing through a hallway lined with classic films from the company’s golden era and the bustling office area, she entered Yu Liu’s office.

Only then did Yu Liu explain, “Sorry about that. There are too many ears outside. Xiao Qiu asked me to keep things low-key for now.”

An Yizhu smiled, wanting to point out that Yu Liu’s personal escort was already high-key but held back. Instead, she said politely, “Thank you for coming to get me. I was worried about messing up today, but seeing you put me at ease.”

Yu Liu smiled warmly.

Who wouldn’t like a sweet-talker?

Yu Liu handed An Yizhu her internship badge. “That’s it for formalities. I’ve handled the rest this morning. Your desk is temporarily set up in that corner outside my office—it won’t draw attention. Don’t let our company’s current state fool you; the workload is still heavy. Everyone will be too busy to pay you much mind.”

An Yizhu followed her gesture to the unoccupied desk.

“I know you and Xiao Qiu have a lot to deal with right now, so I’ve scheduled your onboarding training for next week. Make sure to attend. Download this app—it’s our internal work system.” Yu Liu explained patiently.

Once everything was settled, she patted An Yizhu’s shoulder. “Alright, you can go see Xiao Qiu now.”

But An Yizhu didn’t leave immediately. Smiling, she held up her phone. “Auntie, can we add each other as friends?”

Yu Liu was surprised by An Yizhu’s straightforwardness but didn’t refuse, becoming An Yizhu and Yu Guqiu’s first mutual friend.

After An Yizhu left, Yu Liu checked her social feed, spotting the nearly identical “PDA” posts from last night and the flirty comments.

She shook her head, amused. “These kids… who would’ve thought they’d hit it off so well? If their relationship stays this strong, Weiwei can rest in peace.”

The entire onboarding process took about half an hour.

When An Yizhu left, the receptionists finally whispered:

“That’s the ‘big shot’ transferred from the group headquarters?”

“Yep. No idea who she really is—maybe a famous writer’s pseudonym? Even Director Yu personally escorted her!”

Yu Liu held a nominal position but was still the HR director, instantly inflating An Yizhu’s perceived importance.

Clueless about her newfound legendary status, An Yizhu hurried to the Yu Group building, swiping her special “Sunflower Card” to access the top floor.

The secretaries there all had Yu Guqiu on social media and had been bombarded with marriage certificate posts the night before.

They’d guessed the CEO had good news but didn’t expect it this soon.

Now, seeing An Yizhu, they restrained themselves—with Lin Meng present—but their eyes screamed “Congratulations!”

An Yizhu understood, smiling and nodding at everyone.

Lin Meng, however, stood up. “You’re early.”

“Is Guqiu busy?” An Yizhu asked.

Lin Meng didn’t address her formally, so An Yizhu skipped titles too, cutting straight to the question.

Somehow, it came off as very… wifely.

“Yes, President Yu is occupied. You can wait in—” Lin Meng began, about to direct her to the lounge.

But Yu Guqiu stepped out of her office at that moment.

An Yizhu immediately looked over.

This was her first time seeing Yu Guqiu today!

The CEO was dressed in a white suit with a soft black V-neck sweater underneath.

An Yizhu’s eyes lit up as she scampered over. “You left so early this morning—I didn’t even get to see you! You look stunning today!”

Then, after a pause, she added, “But then again, when don’t you look stunning?”

Finally, she answered her own question: “Every day is stunning, but this white suit is especially eye-catching!”

Without waiting for Yu Guqiu to speak, An Yizhu completed an entire conversation, every meaningful syllable praising Yu Guqiu.

Yu Guqiu saw the sparkling stars in the young girl’s eyes again.

The faint scent of sweet licorice wafted toward her.

This girl really does have a physiological attraction to me—her expression and pheromones give her away.

But Yu Guqiu noted An Yizhu’s outfit—still sporty, just with a shirt layered under the jacket—and nodded. “You’re dressed normally today too.”

“I sense sarcasm, but I have no proof!” An Yizhu looked down at herself. Her outfit was basic, but she hadn’t known what would work for both school and the media company. “I’ll start studying fashion tomorrow.”

With her decent figure and years of illustration experience, this shouldn’t be hard!

But Yu Guqiu gazed at her and smiled. “No need. This suits you—lively, just like you.”

“Ah…” An Yizhu’s words caught in her throat as Yu Guqiu’s smile captivated her.

This wasn’t a hidden smirk or a calculated charm—it was genuine.

When Yu Guqiu said the word “lively,” An Yizhu seemed to understand the meaning behind the “sunflower” printed on her work card.

Yu Guqiu also noticed the dazed look on the young girl’s face as she stared at her. She reined in her expression and pinched An Yizhu’s chin. “Alright, stop staring. Come with me.”

The secretaries in the office, though unable to speak, twisted their bodies in silent screams.

What the—?

Is this really President Yu?

President Yu’s smile is too gorgeous!

This isn’t her usual polite business smile!

What does this mean?!

Yu Guqiu was like a canvas—usually painted only in her signature black and white, but now, An Yizhu had appeared like a splash of vibrant colors, dyeing her in brilliant hues.

That brief moment was enough for everyone to start shipping them!

Because the secretaries were the ones who saw Yu Guqiu most often, they were the best at catching her subtle changes.

Ship boldly—this CP is canon!

Only Lin Meng, after Yu Guqiu took An Yizhu into the elevator, turned back and said to everyone, “Not busy enough? Focus and finish your work first.”

The office finally simmered down from its pink, bubbling excitement.

Inside the elevator, An Yizhu began reporting her day’s activities to Yu Guqiu.

Though everything she did was simple—even things Yu Guqiu had arranged yesterday—An Yizhu added plenty of details, speaking with relish.

Yu Guqiu didn’t interrupt her.

Only after getting into the car did Yu Guqiu hand her a bottle of water, signaling her to take a breather, and then said, “Now, I’m taking you to the old house to meet Grandma.”

Cough-cough—what?!

An Yizhu choked on the water, unwilling to believe what she’d just heard.

“We’ve already registered our marriage. Meeting the family is inevitable. Yesterday, you met Old An—your mom. Now it’s your turn to meet my grandma with me.” Yu Guqiu wasn’t bothered by An Yizhu’s reaction at all. In fact, she seemed to enjoy seeing her flustered.

Even Xie Fang in the driver’s seat couldn’t help but smile.

Miss has become mischievous.

An Yizhu grabbed a couple of tissues to wipe her mouth, waving her hands frantically. “I know meeting the family is inevitable, but it’s still a bit sudden. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could’ve prepared a little.”

“Prepare what?” Yu Guqiu still controlled the conversation’s pace.

The question stumped An Yizhu. There really wasn’t much to prepare.

But now, she wasn’t as nervous around Yu Guqiu because she knew Yu Guqiu at least needed her pheromones. Most of the time, Yu Guqiu could tolerate her mistakes for that reason.

But Old Madam Yu was an elder. A rookie like her would never meet the old lady’s standards—how could she possibly entrust her granddaughter to someone like her?

Even if An Yizhu mustered all her energy to become a reliable person, it would be futile.

Yu Guqiu watched An Yizhu, seeing right through her thoughts. “There’s no time for other preparations, but you can still mentally prepare yourself now. If I’d told you this morning, you’d have been nervous all morning. Telling you now means you’re only nervous now.”

An Yizhu pouted. “How considerate. Why not just tell me at the doorstep—or right in front of Grandma? Wouldn’t that mean even less time to be nervous?”

Now she was complaining to Yu Guqiu quite naturally.

Yu Guqiu curled her lips into a faint smile. “I like seeing you nervous.”

“Ah?! You—you’re so mean…” An Yizhu stammered incoherently, now even more flustered.

Because Yu Guqiu had said “like.”

What’s going on?

Her face suddenly burned.

An Yizhu couldn’t tell if she was nervous about meeting Old Madam Yu or because Yu Guqiu was teasing her.

Yu Guqiu, meanwhile, got exactly what she wanted—a faint whiff of licorice.

Unlike the fresh sweetness from earlier, this time it carried a hint of sourness, like the tartness of herbal medicine or the bright, mellow fruitiness of high-quality coffee beans.

Indeed, the young girl’s nervous licorice scent was more fragrant, more layered.

Hiding a smile, Yu Guqiu turned her head, suddenly realizing that while controlling the rhythm between her and An Yizhu, she’d actually developed a bit of a mischievous streak.

[I want to taste even more delicious pheromones.]

Though the thought seemed strange, at this moment, she truly felt it—even with a hint of…

She couldn’t quite describe it, but if she had to put it into words, this emotion might be a sliver of “enjoyment.”

Amidst the days tangled in endless troubles, she finally felt relaxed again.

Even if a trace of “guarding against An Yizhu” still lurked in her heart, it didn’t stop her from savoring this tranquility.

Yu Guqiu was certain—this deal with An Yizhu was a win for her.

Xie Fang in the driver’s seat gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. If she were a strongman, the wheel would’ve shattered by now.

Good. Today, we’re going to the old house. No matter what, I must burn a big stick of incense for Weiwei and have a good, long talk with her!

The Yu family wasn’t some centuries-old dynasty. The so-called “old house” wasn’t tucked away in some remote forest.

It was simply located in a well-developed, high-end residential area with excellent facilities—one of the earliest luxury neighborhoods in the city.

Taking the expressway from the business district and crossing the intercity highway, they soon arrived at the old house’s community.

After scanning the license plate at the main gate for verification, they drove in smoothly.

Circling halfway around a mini replica of the Arc de Triomphe, they returned to the main road. The most luxurious villa at the very end was the “old house.”

This pure European-style villa was a far cry from the traditional image evoked by the term “old house.”

The iron gate automatically recognized them and opened.

Xie Fang expertly parked the car in the garage.

The three got out together.

An Yizhu prepared to follow at the back.

But Yu Guqiu walked to her side and hooked their arms together, pulling her along.

They were so close that An Yizhu could smell the faint, delicate fragrance of roses.

Though flowers were planted in the old house’s garden, An Yizhu was certain this scent came from Yu Guqiu’s current good mood.

She even knew why Yu Guqiu was in a good mood.

An Yizhu pretended to be calm, but she couldn’t escape Yu Guqiu’s perception.

Not wanting to truly frighten this inexperienced little Alpha, Yu Guqiu finally said when they reached the door, “Grandma is easy to talk to. She’s spent her whole life loving nothing more than staying in the lab, so there’s no need for roundabout talk with her. Someone as straightforward as you will definitely get along with her.”

An Yizhu swallowed hard. “I’m not well-traveled—don’t trick me. Elders from big families like yours can’t possibly be easygoing! You’re her precious darling, so of course you find her easy to talk to!”

“Hahahaha—”

Laughter came from behind the door.

It opened.

Standing there was an elderly woman with a sickly pale complexion but an elegant, composed demeanor. That burst of laughter was the limit of her emotional expression.

An Yizhu took in Old Madam Yu, Yu Shanmei, and couldn’t help but compare her to Director An, whom she’d met just yesterday.

Though Yu Shanmei was older and in poorer health, she didn’t seem as weathered. Her eyes were clear and sharp.

Now, with a smile at the corners of her eyes, Yu Shanmei first addressed the unfamiliar junior before her: “No need to be so afraid. If Xiao Qiu is my precious darling, then I’ll naturally love the crow because of her—I’ll be friendly to you too.”

“Hello, Grandma! I’m Xiao Qiu’s crow—An Yizhu!” An Yizhu straightened up and introduced herself very formally.

Yu Shanmei chuckled at An Yizhu’s joke. “Hahaha— this kid is really amusing. Alright, no need to stand outside. Come in.”

Yu Shanmei turned and walked inside.

An Yizhu whispered to Yu Guqiu, “What did Grandma mean by that? Was she laughing at me for being too robotic just now?”

Yu Guqiu actually flicked her forehead.

The cool touch instantly calmed An Yizhu down.

Yu Guqiu pulled her inside, not even bothering to lower her voice around Yu Shanmei. “I already told you Grandma is easy to talk to and likes straightforward people. Stop overthinking it. If she says you’re amusing, she means it.”

An Yizhu immediately relaxed. “That’s good! Grandma is so nice—I like Grandma too!”

Xie Fang, listening nearby, was dumbfounded, her heart pounding.

She wanted to remind An Yizhu: What you thought earlier was right. Though Yu Shanmei truly loves research, she’s still a ruthless figure who’s survived countless business battles. She’s not that easy to handle.

But then again…

An Yizhu really was interesting. If she just acted naturally, she might actually click with Yu Shanmei.

Yu Shanmei sat at the European-style tea table, brewing Chinese tea. Four cups were set out—clearly including Xie Fang’s—treating her as family.

“Come, sit.”

But Xie Fang declined politely. “Old Madam Yu, I’d like to go to the backyard for a while.”

Yu Shanmei’s hand paused briefly before she nodded with a smile. “Go ahead.”

Xie Fang quickly left.

An Yizhu was curious about what was in the backyard but, judging the atmosphere, knew now wasn’t the time to ask.

Yu Shanmei poured tea for the two juniors. Though her attitude was gentle, her words were pointed. “You two are quite something, huh? While I was still in Beijing, you went ahead and registered your marriage without telling me. Now you remember to let me know?”

Is this the pressure of someone in power?

An Yizhu peeked at Yu Shanmei, not even daring to drink her tea.

Yu Shanmei noticed An Yizhu’s little reactions from the corner of her eye. Though nervous, the girl wasn’t scared—just kept sneaking glances, like a student secretly snacking in class.

How did my granddaughter find this Alpha? She’s quite amusing—definitely better than her mother’s taste.

Yu Guqiu, unruffled, took a sip of tea before speaking. “I don’t know if Cousin Yu Feng mentioned the incident from a couple of days ago. I won’t go into details, but the conclusion is—Xiao An saved me.”

An Yizhu whispered, “Can you not call me Xiao An?”

Why didn’t we discuss nicknames in the car?

“Xiao An” felt more like the original owner’s name, not hers.

“Then… Xiao Yizhu?” Yu Guqiu accepted the suggestion blandly.

“Do you have to add ‘Xiao’?” An Yizhu continued protesting in a hushed voice.

“Then Zhuzhu? Actually, Xiao Zhuzhu sounds cuter, right?”

What?

What?!

Saying ‘Zhuzhu’ like ‘piggy’—what are you doing?!

And ‘Xiao Zhuzhu’ became ‘little piggy’!

An Yizhu’s ears burned red.

She was sure of it now.

Though Yu Guqiu’s expression didn’t change, asking her in a businesslike tone, she was absolutely teasing her!

This is her tactic!

Even in front of Grandma?!

Is this in the contract too?

An Yizhu suddenly felt the need to review the prenuptial agreement carefully. Capitalists were experts at hiding traps in contracts.

She could only counterattack: “Forget it, Xiao Qiuqiu~ Call me whatever you like. Let’s not make Grandma laugh at us.”

Yu Guqiu was actually stunned.

What kind of nickname is ‘Xiao Qiuqiu’?!

She’d been hit by her own teasing boomerang.

Yu Shanmei, sipping tea calmly, watched their interaction with great interest, not interrupting.

Ah, young love.

Flirting with words, exchanging glances—just short of getting handsy in front of their elder.

And Yu Feng called this a contractual marriage?

Does Yu Feng even understand romance?