Has The Live-in Alpha Stepped Up - Chapter 40

40: Help Will Come

“Hey~ wifey~”

“…”

What is this person doing?!

Yu Guqiu tightened her grip on the phone.

She glanced at the caller ID—no mistake, it was indeed An Yizhu.

She sighed.

Well, aside from An Yizhu, who else would call her… “wifey”?

“Hey, Xiao Zhu.” Yu Guqiu responded with an equally meaningless greeting.

The heavy breathing on the other end of the line was unmistakable, followed by a strained “Ah.”

Yu Guqiu found it amusing.

Just based on those two labored breaths, she could vividly picture An Yizhu’s flustered expression on the other end of the call.

Bold enough to call her “wifey,” but unable to handle being called by her own name?

“Hmm?” Yu Guqiu deliberately teased her again.

This time, her voice was low and soft.

Perfect!

An Yizhu felt as if a feather had lightly brushed against her ear, sending a tingling sensation through her.

Under Jing Zuo’s watchful gaze, An Yizhu bit her lip, closed her eyes, and barely managed to steady her emotions.

She had thought that with Yu Guqiu away on a business trip, her heart would get a break for a few days.

But this one phone call, and her little attempt at teasing, had already set the deer in her heart racing again!

What was this rule about the “contractor” not being allowed to like the “client”? This client clearly knew how to be seductive!

An Yizhu silently protested in her heart.

“Can you tone down the lovesick grin on your face? Some of us don’t have wives, you know?” Jing Zuo couldn’t take her roommate’s blatant display of affection anymore and held up a mirror for her to see.

An Yizhu wasn’t surprised by her own wide, goofy smile.

“Xiao Zhu?” Yu Guqiu, not hearing a response but catching someone else’s voice, called out again.

Her voice was so clear it felt like Yu Guqiu was whispering her name right next to her ear.

An Yizhu wanted to hear Yu Guqiu say her name a few more times.

But she couldn’t handle the stimulation, so she climbed onto her bed while replying, “I’m here, I’m in the dorm. My roommate was just talking to me. Cough cough, what’s up?”

Her throat was so dry it sounded slightly hoarse, and she had to clear it twice to recover.

Jing Zuo, hearing that she was mentioned, decided to put on her headphones—out of sight, out of mind.

Yu Guqiu, learning that An Yizhu was in the dorm, chuckled. “Can’t I just call you for no reason?”

Ah, this was so strange.

Was Yu Guqiu calling just to flirt with her?

An Yizhu’s ears burned. She licked her dry lips. “Of course you can. You can call me anytime you miss me.”

If Yu Guqiu could say things like that, then she could too, right?

Yes, if the “client” could say it, the “contractor” could as well.

Yu Guqiu traced the metal edges of her phone, feeling its slight warmth from the ongoing call.

An Yizhu was already embarrassed, but then she realized the other end of the line had gone silent.

How could Yu Guqiu stay silent at a time like this?

She was being rude again!

An Yizhu fidgeted with the volume buttons on her phone, even though she knew it was already at max.

Finally, Yu Guqiu stopped teasing her. “Actually, I wanted to ask how things are going on your end. Is everything at school alright?”

Hearing this question, An Yizhu couldn’t help but roll around, wrapping herself in her blanket.

Yu Guqiu, hearing An Yizhu’s muffled, breathless state, could already guess what was happening.

Without waiting for An Yizhu to respond, she continued, “This matter isn’t that simple.”

Only a handful of dramas became hits each year, and the number of talented screenwriters behind them who remained undiscovered was even smaller.

An Yizhu hadn’t expected Yu Guqiu to comfort her proactively.

Buried under the blanket, she replied earnestly, “I’ll keep working hard! I won’t give up!”

Yu Guqiu didn’t add more pressure. Instead, she gave An Yizhu a few small tasks.

But the topic didn’t matter—An Yizhu was already happy just listening to Yu Guqiu’s voice, rolling around under the covers in delight.

She was thoroughly enjoying this phone call.

“Did you hear me?” Yu Guqiu asked when she didn’t get a response.

“I heard. You said someone will come to help me tomorrow.” An Yizhu replied, omitting the finer details.

“Mm.”

Then, static interrupted the call.

“President Yu, everything’s ready here. Should we…?”

Yu Guqiu moved the phone away and responded, “Go ahead, start.”

An Yizhu sat up abruptly. “Wait, where are you calling me from?”

Yu Guqiu answered plainly, “I just arrived at the conference room. There’s a meeting coming up, related to the animation department. I’ll email the general details to Team Leader Ma, but I need you to listen in on some specifics.”

“Me? Under what capacity?” An Yizhu thought her identity as the “CEO’s wife” couldn’t be exposed so easily.

“Under the guise of being sent on a business trip by headquarters.” Yu Guqiu had already thought of an excuse for her.

An Yizhu understood—Yu Guqiu was genuinely doing everything she could to shape her image within the company.

She couldn’t let her down. Quickly, she climbed out of bed.

“Hold on, let me grab a pen and paper to take notes!”

The meeting’s content was straightforward—a new project proposal was being launched.

Guangying’s animation department was expanding, planning to develop outstanding comic works in-house and collaborate directly with another company.

This meeting was far more harmonious than the group’s board meetings, and the direction was quickly settled.

It seemed Yu Guqiu had received considerable preferential treatment from her old friend at Ai Qi’s company.

This put An Yizhu at ease.

After the call ended, An Yizhu was still staring blankly at her notes.

Jing Zuo walked past and couldn’t resist taking a peek. “Oh my god, is this your wife? She’s gorgeous!”

Her words snapped An Yizhu out of her daze.

Looking down, she realized that amid her meeting notes, she had barely written anything before zoning out. Instead, she had unconsciously sketched a familiar profile—Yu Guqiu’s focused expression while working.

The strokes were so familiar she didn’t even need to concentrate, her muscle memory effortlessly capturing Yu Guqiu’s likeness on paper.

After spending so much time together recently, An Yizhu had already memorized every detail of Yu Guqiu’s face.

“Turns out you’re not just a lovesick fool, but a very skilled one.” Jing Zuo teased.

An Yizhu grinned. “I do have some talent for drawing.”

She even found an excuse for herself. “That’s why, even though I joined Guangying Xinghui Media as a screenwriter, I was quickly poached by the animation department before I could settle in.”

Jing Zuo couldn’t help but look envious. “You’re really lucky, huh? Settling down and building a career—all before even graduating.”

The bitterness on Jing Zuo’s face was evident.

But it didn’t seem like it was just envy over An Yizhu’s “settling down and building a career.”

Noticing An Yizhu’s probing gaze, she quickly masked it and focused on An Yizhu instead. “When I first moved into this dorm, I heard you had depression. But we never really interacted, and after the other two roommates moved out, you didn’t talk to me either. But seeing you recovered like this… it’s really nice.”

An Yizhu didn’t explain much, simply nodding. “Yeah, I think I’m lucky too. Meeting my wife was the turning point in my life.”

That was the absolute truth.

Jing Zuo immediately waved her hands, laughing. “Alright, alright, I’ve already had my fill of dog food today. You’ve got both love and career success—I won’t waste any more of your time. I still need to work on my resume.”

An Yizhu followed her to her desk and suddenly remembered her own task. “Oh, since you’re working on your resume anyway, why don’t you apply to Guangying Xinghui Media?”

“Huh?” Jing Zuo froze mid-typing.

An Yizhu, seeing her reaction, recalled Huo Wei’s earlier words.

Perhaps to outsiders now, the Yu Group seemed like a crumbling wall.

She explained, “Of course, if you have better options, that’s fine too. I’m not forcing you. I just hope you’ll consider it. Our company offers good salaries and benefits…”

Seeing how seriously An Yizhu was recruiting, Jing Zuo hurriedly stopped her.

“I know Guangying Xinghui is a great company. They’ve produced a lot of great screenwriters, and that hit variety show recently was yours too… I’m just surprised you’d invite me? I haven’t won any awards in four years of college.”

An Yizhu’s expression darkened at the mention of awards. “Today, I went to the drama and film clubs. Those people might have awards, but the atmosphere there was toxic. I wouldn’t want them anywhere near our company. Disgusting!”

Then she explained her reasoning. “It’s not just because you’re my roommate that I’m offering. I have referral spots, but I don’t know your skills yet, so I can’t recommend you outright. But the application process is always fair. The company will open recruitment soon—you’re just getting a heads-up.”

Jing Zuo laughed, surprised by An Yizhu’s sincerity.

An Yizhu was truly a genuine person.

Jing Zuo responded with equal sincerity. “If we’re talking about referrals, I’d actually like to compete for one first.”

An Yizhu paused, then nodded. “Fair enough. If you trust me, show me some of your scripts. If they’re good, I’ll recommend you to the team leader.”

But Jing Zuo shook her head. “Not me. I have a cousin who graduated from our school—she was even a direct graduate student under the old professor in our department. I’d love the opportunity, but my cousin might be a better fit.”

An Yizhu clapped her hands in delight. “Even better! But don’t worry, I definitely have more than one referral spot. Anyone talented can join. And if you could introduce me to the professor directly, that’d be even better.”

Jing Zuo was stunned. “Aren’t you being a bit too ambitious? The professor’s in his sixties—he was rehired after retirement. You want to recruit him as a screenwriter for a media company?”

An Yizhu laughed. “What are you thinking? I just meant the professor’s students are probably all very skilled. If he could recommend a few more, wouldn’t that be great?”

Jing Zuo understood now and smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that makes sense. But most of his students are already established—they don’t need job hunting. You might be out of luck.”

“Ah, what a shame.”

But An Yizhu thought that if luck was on her side, Jing Zuo and her cousin might meet the requirements and help solve the company’s urgent needs.

Jing Zuo added, “If you don’t mind recruiting underclassmen, I’m actually the president of a club. Would you like to see what our club can do?”

“How many members are there?” An Yizhu was clearly interested.

Jing Zuo admitted, “Not many. The club’s called the Writing Club. No resources, no events—we mostly just gather to practice writing. My cousin founded it. Honestly, by the time it got to me, there were only three members left. I’m the president, a junior is the officer, and a sophomore is the assistant.”

“That’s… a very streamlined membership.” An Yizhu chuckled. But after the shock of the drama and film clubs, this simplicity was oddly reassuring.

Jing Zuo smiled. “We actually have a club event tonight.”

“What kind of event? Where are you holding it?” An Yizhu grew wary.

Jing Zuo, confused by her sudden shift, replied, “We don’t have a budget, so we usually just meet in the dorm to write. If you don’t mind, we’ll proceed as planned. Otherwise, I’ll find an empty classroom.”

An Yizhu understood now.

No wonder the other two beds in the dorm were unused, yet the desks beneath them were kept spotless—it turned out they were regularly used.

“Absolutely welcome! This just gives me a chance to review your drafts. Quick, quick, have them come over!” An Yizhu had even slipped into the role of a recruiter, and an impromptu hiring test was about to begin.

Seeing An Yizhu’s enthusiasm, Jing Zuo couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll have the underclassmen come right away.”

Half an hour later.

The two underclassmen arrived.

They were even considerate enough to bring dinner.

“Hello, Senior!! Wow, Senior is so pretty!!” One of them, sporting twin ponytails and radiating high energy, walked in carrying food.

The other, with thick glasses and heavy bangs, explained, “We brought dinner, but we didn’t have time to ask what Senior An likes, so Officer Xu just got the same grilled meat rice as Senior Jing.”

“Grilled meat rice! I’ll eat it! No dietary restrictions!” An Yizhu was overjoyed.

After the disillusionment with the drama and film clubs earlier that afternoon, her campus life now felt vibrant and full of energy again.

Jing Zuo introduced them to An Yizhu. “This is Xiao Xu, Xu Qingyi, our club’s officer. And this is Xiao Lin, Lin Da, our assistant.”

Xu Qingyi bounced over to Jing Zuo’s side, grinning. “Senior~ Our club only has three people. No need to be so formal with titles!”

Jing Zuo sighed helplessly. “Fine, let’s get straight to the point…”

She then briefed the two underclassmen about An Yizhu’s situation.

Their eyes lit up instantly.

Xu Qingyi hopped over to An Yizhu. “Senior, you’re so kind to give us this opportunity. We’ll definitely make the most of it!”

An Yizhu dodged Xu Qingyi’s attempt to link arms, smiling. “Opportunities are equal for everyone. It’s up to you to prove yourselves.”

“We’ll work hard.” Lin Da said earnestly, pulling out writing paper from her bag and placing it on the nearby desk.

“Starting already?” Xu Qingyi giggled. “No need to be so nervous. Let the two seniors eat first.”

“Time is limited. This opportunity is rare!” Lin Da sat down with unwavering determination.

Xu Qingyi apologized to An Yizhu. “Sorry, Senior. Xiao Lin is like this—she loves writing. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have joined our no-future writing club.”

An Yizhu didn’t mind at all. “It’s fine. Someone this passionate will succeed at anything.”

Jing Zuo chimed in, “Alright, let’s all start writing. I can eat while writing. Time really is tight.”

With that, the dorm was filled with the aroma of food and the synchronized sounds of pens scratching on paper.

An Yizhu found their insistence on writing by hand amusing.

Holding her grilled meat rice, she paced behind them like an invigilator, watching as they drafted their scripts.

She studied their work for a long time.

She wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t interacted with many screenwriters and didn’t understand the craft, but to her, all three scripts seemed quite interesting.

By the time she finished eating, she was so inspired that she picked up a pen and sketched storyboards for each of their scripts.

As curfew approached, the three of them were stunned when they saw the three sets of storyboard sketches in An Yizhu’s hands.

“Oh my god, Senior, you’re the real talent here! With skills like these, no wonder you got a referral spot! I love this so much!” Xu Qingyi clutched her storyboard, unable to put it down.

Lin Da bit her lip, speaking in her most excited tone yet. “Whether I get the referral or not, I’ll definitely apply to Guangying Xinghui. I want to work with you, Senior!”

Jing Zuo laughed helplessly. “Calm down, both of you. Senior An is married. Don’t say things that sound like confessions—it’s misleading.”

“Ah~ Senior, you’re already married so young! Well, I guess it makes sense. Talented people marrying early is just society optimizing resources.” Xu Qingyi was still grinning, not the least bit heartbroken.

Lin Da wasn’t either—her eyes shone only with admiration for An Yizhu.

An Yizhu was equally impressed by the two underclassmen.

But when it came to the scripts, she had to be professional.

“I really like your drafts, but I can’t decide on the referrals myself. If you trust me and Guangying’s integrity, I’ll submit your work to the higher-ups for review. They’ll make the final decision. Is that okay?”

“Of course! The scripts are only half-finished anyway—no worries. If they’re interested, we can finish them overnight!” Lin Da’s determination was unwavering.

Xu Qingyi, however, had a small request. “Senior~ Since you’re submitting them for review anyway, could you include the storyboards too?”

Jing Zuo burst out laughing. “You’re really clever, using my roommate’s work to boost your own chances.”

“Ah~ Senior Jing, don’t expose me like that!” Xu Qingyi leaned against Jing Zuo. “If we really get in, maybe we can request to be assigned to Senior Yizhu’s team. Wouldn’t that be great?”

An Yizhu agreed. “No problem. These storyboards were just quick sketches anyway. I’m glad you like them.”

“Yay~ Senior is the best!” Xu Qingyi raised her arms as if to lunge for a hug but remembered Jing Zuo’s warning about An Yizhu’s marital status. Instead, she pounced on Lin Da. “If we’re lucky, we might have jobs before graduation. Hehe.”

After the two underclassmen dashed off just before curfew, An Yizhu messaged Liao Miaosi, the screenwriting team leader, and sent over the three scripts and storyboards.

“Alright, the team leader said she received them. But Guangying doesn’t usually do overtime, and things have been busy lately, so it might take a few days to get a response.” An Yizhu leaned back in her chair, stretching contentedly.

Finally experiencing the perfect campus life in her dorm again left her satisfied.

Jing Zuo waved her phone. “I also told my cousin about you. Waiting for her reply now.”

An Yizhu was curious. “Speaking of which, if your cousin is the old professor’s student, she must have had plenty of opportunities and platforms. Why does she need this referral?”

Jing Zuo smiled awkwardly. “If we’re talking about that… it’s probably my fault.”

“What do you mean?” An Yizhu prompted when Jing Zuo didn’t continue.

Jing Zuo hesitated but finally made up her mind.

“It’s a long story. If you’re willing to listen, let’s freshen up first. We can talk slowly afterward. Otherwise, the lights will go out soon.”

Technically, seniors shouldn’t have a lights-out policy, but this mixed dormitory housed students from other grades as well.

“Okay!” An Yizhu’s eyes sparkled.

This was exactly the kind of late-night heart-to-heart she’d been craving!

Though she and Jing Zuo were far from close friends, this was still a part of the campus life she wanted to experience.

An hour later, both of them were in their pajamas, tucked into bed.

In the dim light, Jing Zuo finally felt secure enough to share her story.

“I’ve spent most of my four years at university here because my father doesn’t like me. Since high school, he’s believed I didn’t need so much education—that it was a waste of money.”

An Yizhu hadn’t expected Jing Zuo’s story to be about her family. She was at a loss for words, even regretting her earlier probing.

Jing Zuo continued, “But my cousin is different. My father says that as an Alpha, she’s talented and hardworking—nothing like me. When I got into university and he threatened to cut off my tuition, it was my cousin who talked him out of it.”

An Yizhu murmured softly to show she was listening.

Jing Zuo went on, “My cousin started visiting during every break just for my sake. My father’s temper gradually stabilized. Last year, my cousin landed a job at a big company thanks to the professor and her own skills. But the company wasn’t in Jiangcheng. When my father found out, he lost it. He said my cousin couldn’t leave Jiangcheng and stormed into the company to make a scene.”

The more Jing Zuo spoke, the guiltier she sounded.

An Yizhu found the story increasingly outrageous.

She wanted to ask, How could someone like that exist?

But then again, human diversity might surpass even that of animals. During her hospital stay, she’d heard plenty of similarly bizarre stories.

All she could do was sigh.

Jing Zuo sighed too. “After that, it caused a lot of trouble. My cousin had to resign. Since then, she hasn’t found another job. So I feel like I’ve failed her. But don’t worry! My cousin and I cut ties with my father a year ago. He’s shifted his focus to another kid in the village now—he won’t bother us anymore.”

Jing Zuo was actually trying to reassure An Yizhu.

An Yizhu felt a pang of discomfort and could only offer a weak, “Don’t be too hard on yourself…”

Jing Zuo smiled bitterly. “It’s fine. I’ve known for a long time that my father doesn’t love me. He prefers kids like my accomplished cousin…”

An Yizhu cut her off immediately. “No! He doesn’t like your cousin either—not really. From what I can tell, he just likes that she’s an Alpha. He wants her, as an Alpha, to support him in his old age. If he truly cared about her, he wouldn’t have sabotaged her career just to keep her close for his own benefit.”

Jing Zuo was surprised by An Yizhu’s bluntness, especially since An Yizhu herself was an Alpha.

Jing Zuo shook her head with a faint smile. “As much as it hurts, I’ve accepted it. There’s no point dwelling on it.”

She paused, feeling that she and An Yizhu had become genuine friends tonight. She couldn’t resist asking a question that had been on her mind.

“I’m also curious… was your poor mental health in the past related to your upbringing? With your late differentiation, did your parents’ attitudes change drastically? Of course, if this is too personal… we can just rest. It’s getting late.”

An Yizhu could tell Jing Zuo was genuinely curious—so much so that she only realized the question might be intrusive after asking it.

An Yizhu couldn’t explain her past—how her mother, sister, and father had all loved her. She just smiled and shook her head. “I grew up in an orphanage.”

Now it was Jing Zuo’s turn to fall silent.

“My illness was complicated. Basically, some things at the orphanage were too hard to deal with. But that’s all in the past.” That was all An Yizhu could say.

Jing Zuo nodded understandingly and didn’t press further.

Just then, her phone lit up with a notification.

Jing Zuo sat up, clutching her phone. “Great! My cousin says she’ll come to campus tomorrow!”

“That’s wonderful.” An Yizhu smiled.

What a coincidence—Yu Guqiu had also said a helper would arrive tomorrow.