Has The Live-in Alpha Stepped Up - Chapter 24
24: Marital Duties
The playful bickering between An Yizhu and Yu Guqiu was abruptly cut short by Yu Shanmei’s cough.
Yu Shanmei glanced at the two of them and asked with a smile, “So, Xiao Zhu’s surname is An, right? From that… artistic family, the An family?”
Clearly, Yu Shanmei’s current information came solely from Yu Feng, who knew nothing about An Yizhu.
“No, Xiao Zhu is from the Mercy Orphanage.” Yu Guqiu replied immediately, making no effort to conceal the truth.
Because hiding or sugarcoating it wouldn’t change anything.
Yu Shanmei didn’t catch on right away: “Xiao Zhu is so compassionate, even involved in charity work?”
Seeing the misunderstanding, An Yizhu corrected her directly: “I’m a beneficiary of charity work. I was adopted by An Lan, the director of the Mercy Orphanage. I took her surname—An.”
Yu Shanmei looked at An Yizhu in surprise.
This little Alpha was actually a child who had grown up in an orphanage.
Almost only children who failed genetic screening ended up in orphanages.
While marveling at the whims of fate, Yu Shanmei couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion: I thought Xiao Qiu would be more rational, but it seems she’s just as reckless when it comes to choosing a partner—ignoring social status and public opinion.
But then it occurred to her: This hopeless romantic streak started with me and my beloved. It’s in the genes.
Though her expression remained stern, Yu Shanmei’s heart was at ease. She simply remarked, “No wonder there’s been so much opposition.”
Yu Guqiu frowned. “How many people have complained to you? Did any of them mention the matrilocal marriage?”
Clearly, none had.
Yu Shanmei was visibly shocked.
An Alpha, marrying into the Omega’s family?
No wonder Yu Feng hadn’t breathed a word about it.
Even Yu Shanmei needed time to digest this information.
After a moment of contemplation, she merely advised, “Then you’ll have to keep a close eye on your future children.”
One was a high-status Omega who disregarded societal norms to marry a lowly Alpha.
The other was a small Alpha who defied public opinion to marry into an Omega’s family.
Yu Shanmei was convinced that the offspring of these two hopeless romantics would be an even more extreme version of the same.
An Yizhu, still struggling to keep up with Yu Shanmei’s train of thought, couldn’t help but whisper to Yu Guqiu, “Is this… pressuring us to have kids?”
Before Yu Guqiu could respond, Yu Shanmei burst out laughing: “Hahaha, if you think this is pressuring you, then sure! I’d be delighted to see you two have a child soon.”
Yu Guqiu, however, ignored the baby talk and asked in surprise, “Grandma, you don’t object to our marriage?”
Yu Shanmei looked puzzled. “You’ve already registered your marriage. You’re just here to inform me. What’s there to object to?”
There was a hint of resentment in her words.
At least back in the day, Weiwei had brought her partner home for approval before registering the marriage!
But then it struck her—maybe it was because marriage registration required the household register back then, whereas now, only ID cards are needed.
Ah, times have changed, and she was getting old.
Yu Shanmei took a sip of tea and continued, “I review the weekly reports from the hospital’s pheromone matching database. Your experimental results are astonishing—they’ll likely dominate academic papers for at least two years, spawn countless patents, or even win international awards.”
Yu Guqiu poured tea for Yu Shanmei, now displaying the demeanor of a dutiful granddaughter. Smiling, she said, “I thought so too. Grandma, you must have known already.”
An Yizhu finally understood—today was genuinely just about meeting the elder, not facing interrogation.
There was no need for dramatic vows, promises on bended knee, or any of the scenes she’d imagined.
Seeing the girl finally relax and take her first sip of tea, Yu Shanmei chuckled again: “But Xiao Zhu, you’ll have your work cut out for you with my granddaughter. She’s a tough one. Just last time, when I went to the capital for a conference, she refused to come because she thought I was taking her to a blind date. Stubborn as a mule. But it’s just as well she didn’t go—otherwise, she’d have missed meeting you.”
Yu Guqiu ignored the “irrelevant” parts of Yu Shanmei’s words and cut straight to the chase: “Grandma, did we secure the Luan family’s order?”
Yu Shanmei nodded, though without much optimism: “We did, thanks to my enduring charm and their generosity. The partnership is set, but the funds will only come in batches as we fulfill the orders. It’ll only patch the immediate holes. You’ll have to figure out how to plug the real financial abyss yourself.”
As the two Yu CEOs discussed business, An Yizhu, unable to contribute or even follow the conversation, quietly sipped her tea.
Just then, her phone buzzed twice.
Her usually silent phone—who could be messaging her now?!
She hurriedly pulled it out of her pocket and switched to silent mode.
But Yu Shanmei’s sharp eyes immediately caught sight of the adorable photo of Yu Guqiu on An Yizhu’s lock screen and laughed: “Ah, how nostalgic. Xiao Qiu was so cute back then—tiny and… what’s the word you kids use now? Mochi-like.”
An Yizhu didn’t even realize how her phone had ended up in Yu Shanmei’s hands.
Yu Guqiu was equally stunned, shooting An Yizhu a look: Why would you use this photo as your lock screen?!
An Yizhu shrank back: It’s so cute! I don’t have any other photos. What’s wrong with using this one?
Their silent exchange somehow conveyed their thoughts perfectly.
Yu Shanmei laughed even harder. “Stop making eyes at each other.”
She then stood and said to Yu Guqiu, “Xiao Qiu, go to the backyard and find Aunt Fang. I’ll take Xiao Zhu upstairs for a look around.”
“?” An Yizhu immediately turned to Yu Guqiu for help: Save me, save me!
Yu Guqiu smiled and shook her head: Go spend time alone with Grandma. Consider it punishment for using my embarrassing childhood photo without permission.
“?” Watching Yu Guqiu head straight for the backyard, An Yizhu was shocked. Was she really not worried she’d mess things up alone with Grandma?
Yu Shanmei stood up. “Relax. Love me, love my dog—that’s absolutely true. As long as Xiao Qiu loves and needs you, I won’t object or make things difficult for you.”
An Yizhu pressed her lips together.
The more Yu Shanmei said that, the harder it was to relax.
With those who coveted Yu Guqiu, An Yizhu could unleash her sharp tongue and act with 100% theatrical flair.
But Yu Shanmei genuinely loved and cared for Yu Guqiu.
An Yizhu couldn’t bear the thought of how heartbroken Yu Shanmei would be if they grew close and she later learned the truth.
“Come, I’ll show you some treasures.” Yu Shanmei said warmly, taking An Yizhu’s wrist.
Resistance was futile.
This was An Yizhu’s first time in this world experiencing the oppressive aura of another Alpha.
Compared to the second-generation Alpha from the Tao family, the unconscious, calm dominance exuded by the mature Yu Shanmei left An Yizhu breathless.
Only now did An Yizhu truly grasp the dynamics of Alpha-Alpha interactions in this ABO world.
Fortunately, Yu Shanmei meant no harm. She simply led An Yizhu to the largest room on the second floor—likely her own bedroom.
The room’s decor was even more ornate than the rest of the house, a mix of Baroque and Rococo styles with intricate carvings, ivory-white accents, and gold embellishments.
Yet it was far from the gaudy taste of the nouveau riche.
An Yizhu had no frame of reference for true elite homes, but she recognized elements from classical European oil paintings—the furniture, the chandeliers, the marble surfaces, the metal ornaments.
Every corner held surprises, from the practical to the purely aesthetic.
Yu Shanmei noticed An Yizhu’s careful observation and smiled. “My late wife chose the location and decor of this house when she was young. She had an eye for art—I don’t, but if she liked something, it was always good.”
“It’s all beautiful. It feels like walking through a museum.” An Yizhu nodded, finally finding the right words.
Yu Shanmei felt a pang of nostalgia. Her wife would have loved this girl—she’d often said she loved how their home felt like a museum, filled with treasures.
Yu Shanmei pulled out a few worn but well-kept photo albums from a cabinet.
The first, more tattered one, she set aside. She opened the second: “These are priceless. The only copies in existence.”
An Yizhu’s eyes widened as soon as she saw the contents.
It was the Complete Collection of Yu Guqiu!
And truly priceless—featuring Yu Guqiu as a child, a teenager, and a young adult.
“Ah!” An Yizhu couldn’t contain herself. Little Yu Guqiu was adorable—she wanted to kidnap her!
The excited young Alpha’s pheromones, escaping the suppressant patch’s control, ran wild.
Unlike Yu Shanmei’s composed, authoritative aura, An Yizhu’s pheromones were chaotic and unrestrained.
Though discomforted by the clash, Yu Shanmei smiled approvingly.
“Can I take a photo of this one?” An Yizhu knew better than to ask for the original.
“Go ahead. Take them all if you want.” Yu Shanmei said generously.
An Yizhu went on a photo spree.
One particularly heart-melting shot made her ask, “Was Xiao Qiu being bullied here? Why does she look teary-eyed?”
Yu Shanmei laughed, recalling the memory. “Oh, Xiao Qiu was so petty as a child. We were on a picnic, and I picked some wild berries but had nowhere to put them, so I used her hat. When it got a little dirty, she threw a fit.”
An Yizhu shot Yu Shanmei a look, barely suppressing the urge to retort.
What kid wouldn’t be upset about that?!
This grandma was quite the troublemaker!
Then it hit her—Yu Guqiu’s penchant for teasing, hidden beneath her cool exterior, might be hereditary.
Yu Shanmei caught An Yizhu’s glance and explained, “Actually, Xiao Qiu’s still petty—she just hides it well under that mature facade.”
An Yizhu nodded emphatically. “Absolutely. And she holds grudges—payback is always precise and merciless.”
Fresh memories from the past few days flashed through her mind.
Yu Shanmei raised an eyebrow.
Had the newlyweds grown this close in just a few days?
After the incident fifteen years ago, Yu Guqiu had become increasingly reserved, burying her true feelings. To outsiders, she was the “Ice Queen”—a label Yu Shanmei had once agreed with.
It had been years since Yu Shanmei had seen her granddaughter act as openly as she did in childhood.
Dong—Dong—
The chimes of a clock echoed outside.
A flock of white doves took flight in the courtyard.
An Yizhu looked out the window—the scene framed like an Impressionist painting.
“Grandma Omega must have loved life. The trees in the yard were carefully arranged too, right? With the sunset, it looks like a painting.”
Though the villa was part of a managed community, Ai Qi had created her own little garden here, her passion and aesthetic evident in every detail.
Yu Shanmei smiled, pleased with An Yizhu’s artistic eye. “Let’s go to the backyard.”
An Yizhu, sensing she’d passed some unspoken test, followed Yu Shanmei down a side staircase to the mysterious backyard.
Yu Guqiu and Xie Fang stood among the flowers, surprised to see Yu Shanmei bring An Yizhu along.
But Xie Fang quickly smiled and stepped aside, as if this were expected.
Yu Guqiu said nothing but gave An Yizhu a deep look before moving aside with Xie Fang.
Yu Shanmei took two sticks of incense from a nearby cabinet, lit them, and handed one to An Yizhu.
Only then did An Yizhu notice the two stone tablets in the open backyard.
The tablets bore two names:
Ai Qi and Yu Ziwei.
“These are my beloved and Xiao Qiu’s mother. Let’s offer them some incense.” Yu Shanmei said.
An Yizhu noted the nuance in how Yu Shanmei referred to them but didn’t comment. She obediently stepped forward and introduced herself solemnly: “I’m Xiao Qiu’s beloved, An Yizhu.”
Yu Shanmei laughed. “You little rascal, copying my words? ‘Beloved’ suits me, but it’s a bit old-fashioned for you.”
Yu Guqiu chimed in: “She’s just a quick learner.”
An Yizhu, ever the opportunist: “‘Beloved’ shows how much I cherish Xiao Qiu, Grandma. Such a good word shouldn’t be called old-fashioned. Young people should learn from you.”
Yu Shanmei shook her head at Yu Guqiu, as if blaming her for An Yizhu’s cheekiness.
Yu Guqiu pretended not to notice, but her fingers tapped lightly behind her back—a telltale sign of her delight.
She was pleased An Yizhu had so quickly charmed her grandmother.
Yu Shanmei turned to the tablets with a smile. “You see? I think Xiao Zhu is wonderful. You’d both love her too, so I brought her to meet you.”
An Yizhu nodded earnestly, as if the elders stood before her in person.
Yu Shanmei chatted at length by the tablets—a daily ritual, judging by how she absentmindedly caressed Ai Qi’s tablet, its edges worn smooth from years of touch.
Knowing Yu Guqiu’s current predicament, she asked as they left, “So, when’s the wedding?”
Yu Guqiu produced a small, elegant red-and-gold invitation from her inner pocket: “In two days.”
Yu Shanmei glanced at the venue—a modest affair.
She wondered if An Yizhu might feel slighted by the haste, but before she could check, An Yizhu had already peeked over her shoulder.
An Yizhu was curious—this was her first time seeing a wedding invitation.
Her own wedding invitation, no less!
The red card with black trim and gold foil was simple yet refined—very Yu Guqiu.
As she squinted at the small print, the words suddenly grew larger.
Yu Shanmei had handed her the invitation: “You seem completely in the dark?”
Now Yu Shanmei was ready to scold Yu Guqiu. A small, intimate wedding was fine, but the bride should at least be involved!
Yu Guqiu read her grandmother’s expression and explained, “Xiao Zhu is still in school. Though her senior year isn’t busy, she’s been handling university matters. I know she’s studying, and it’s not easy for her to marry me on such short notice, so I tried not to burden her.”
Yu Shanmei was stunned.
Still in school? A senior?
She looked at An Yizhu again—youthful and vibrant.
This…
Yu Shanmei laughed, rubbing her forehead. If someone had told her two days ago that her granddaughter was getting married, she’d never have guessed it’d be to someone like this.
An Yizhu, meanwhile, mouthed at Yu Guqiu behind Yu Shanmei’s back: Wow. You’re full of surprises.
A master of excuses, befitting the head of the Yu family.
Her “school matters” had taken all of half a day—today!
Yu Guqiu remained unruffled. The invitations had only been finalized this morning anyway.
She glanced at An Yizhu as if to say: What? Was I wrong?
“Right, right, whatever my wife says is right.”
An Yizhu said it out loud, making Yu Guqiu press her lips together in silence.
Yu Shanmei, however, burst out laughing. “I’m too old to meddle in your affairs. As long as you’re happy.”
Young people and their quirks—who was she to judge?
“Alright, let’s eat.”
Dinner was relaxed.
The Yu family table had few rules, and An Yizhu’s playful antics charmed the elders.
But the real challenge came after nightfall.
Yu Shanmei insisted they stay over. While she and Yu Guqiu discussed business in the study, a servant showed An Yizhu to Yu Guqiu’s room.
Yu Guqiu’s childhood bedroom was no exception to the European theme—a princess-worthy canopy bed draped in sheer curtains.
The servant provided pajamas and toiletries.
Deja vu.
Hadn’t this happened just two days ago?
Once again, An Yizhu faced sharing a room with Yu Guqiu.
This time, without the option of sleeping on the floor!
She stood awkwardly in the room, forcing a smile at the servant, who left oblivious to her distress.
Alone, An Yizhu hugged the pajamas and took a deep breath.
You’re in a contractual marriage. This will happen often. Get a grip.
After a quick pep talk, she showered and changed into the white nightgown provided by Yu Shanmei.
Yu Guqiu still hadn’t returned.
Feeling exposed in the loose gown, An Yizhu claimed a corner of the massive bed, turned off the lights, and left the dilemma of the night to Yu Guqiu.
But sleep wouldn’t come.
Fidgeting, she checked her phone—a message from Jing Zuo, her dorm roommate:
“The advisor told me about you. Let’s get along.”
An Yizhu sent a friendly emoji but didn’t engage further.
Click.
The door opened.
Startled, An Yizhu shoved her phone under the pillow and pretended to sleep.
Footsteps approached.
The familiar scent of roses, tinged with something bitter—like wilting petals chewed to pulp.
An Yizhu was slowly adapting to her Alpha body, becoming more attuned to her Omega.
The footsteps paused by the bed, then moved to the window, where they lingered.
An Yizhu secretly opened one eye.
She saw Yu Guqiu standing by the window in a matching spaghetti-strap nightgown, staring blankly outside.
The faint light from outside outlined her silhouette—aloof and solitary, that same lonely aura radiating from her once more.
Though her expression was hidden, the unlit cigarette between her fingers betrayed the turmoil in her heart.
An Yizhu didn’t know what Yu Guqiu and Yu Shanmei had discussed in the study, nor could she fully grasp the weight of what Yu Guqiu was going through.
But right now, she just wanted to hold her, to offer even the smallest comfort.
Suddenly, Yu Guqiu tossed the unlit cigarette onto the windowsill.
Then turned around.
She had chosen something else over the cigarette.
The movement was so abrupt that An Yizhu’s expression of concern was still etched on her face when their eyes met.
It was too late to pretend to be asleep now.
[Are you pitying me, An Yizhu?]
Yu Guqiu caught her gaze.
[Right now, only your pheromones can bring me peace. But are you using that expression to deceive me?]
Her suspicions clearly hadn’t faded, even after An Yizhu’s performance at the orphanage.
But she said nothing.
Using this “suppressant” rationally had been her decision all along.
Yu Guqiu knelt on the bed with one knee, leaning down.
The nightgown’s fabric was far from generous.
An Yizhu’s eyes instantly didn’t know where to look.
The dim lighting did little to obscure Yu Guqiu’s porcelain skin, untouched by the sun, glowing like satin against the white fabric.
As Yu Guqiu drew closer, the rustling of the sheets and the hem of her nightgown sent tingles down An Yizhu’s spine, making her want to shrink away.
Yu Guqiu’s cool fingers brushed against her neck.
The tingling spread through her entire body.
An Yizhu could even feel her own pheromones, restless beneath the suppressant patch, her head throbbing in response.
Was this Yu Guqiu testing her?
Or teasing her?
Or maybe she wanted Yu Shanmei to believe in their marital bond, so she needed to leave some marks in this room?
An Yizhu’s mind raced, desperately trying to distract herself.
But then those icy fingertips pressed against the back of her neck—and without warning, peeled off her suppressant patch.
“Yu—” An Yizhu tried to speak, but Yu Guqiu’s cool palm covered her mouth.
This went far beyond anything she had imagined.
Yu Guqiu also felt unlike herself, but she didn’t want to hear her own name from An Yizhu’s lips right now.
She only issued a command:
“An Yizhu, it’s time to fulfill your marital duties.”
An Yizhu stared at her. Those pale eyes were as cool as water, yet rippling with something unreadable.
She didn’t understand what had brought Yu Guqiu to this point.
But her immediate task was to figure out what “marital duties” meant.
Another mark?
Her fangs had already extended long before the tingling spread through her body—but now, her mouth was sealed shut.
She could only mimic Yu Guqiu’s earlier action, reaching toward the back of her neck.
The suppressant patch was still firmly in place.
Her fingers lightly brushed the edge of the patch.
Contrary to the cool touch she had imagined, the skin beneath radiated a gentle warmth, responding to her every tentative stroke.
Yu Guqiu didn’t stop her, merely lifting her gaze to watch An Yizhu—breathing unevenly, touching her with such cautious reverence.
As if handling something precious.
No one else would treat me like this now.
Even if it was just infatuation with her appearance, or the influence of pheromones, or some other ulterior motive.
Yu Guqiu slowly blinked, then just as slowly released her hold over An Yizhu’s mouth.
An Yizhu’s lips parted slightly—first revealing her sharp canines, then the fangs that had long been ready.
Meeting Yu Guqiu’s gaze, the lack of resistance was already a positive response.
She swallowed lightly, then peeled away the suppressant patch clinging stubbornly to Yu Guqiu’s skin.
She could feel it now.
The scent of roses, flowing along the curves of Yu Guqiu’s body, painting an invisible trail.
Her fingertips chased the pheromones, drifting down from the nape of her neck, lingering on the thin strap of the nightgown before sliding further along the smooth fabric.
That slender waist—so delicate yet defined—felt almost too fragile in her grasp.
Her hand ventured lower—
Snap.
Yu Guqiu abruptly seized An Yizhu’s wrist.
An Yizhu jolted back to reality, her heart hammering wildly.
She realized she had overstepped, lost in the moment, and looked up at Yu Guqiu in alarm.
Yu Guqiu’s eyes burned with something between anger and frustration—yet the corners shimmered with unshed tears. She bit her lip, refusing to let her consciousness slip away.
The influence of pheromones on an Omega was far stronger than Yu Guqiu had anticipated.
Especially when faced with the destined 100% match.
Thud—thud—
An Yizhu’s condition was even worse. She, too, was drowning in the pheromones. But beneath that, something else stirred—an impulse unrelated to scent.
Yet—
What Yu Guqiu needed right now was only the pheromones.
Not “An Yizhu.”