Has The Live-in Alpha Stepped Up - Chapter 43

43: The Wronged Puppy

The moment Yu Guqiu realized what was going through her mind, she was startled.

She knew exactly what An Yizhu was craving every time she stared at her intently, and she had always tacitly allowed it.

But she had only ever done so to better control An Yizhu’s occasionally erratic behavior.

That was how it should have been. That was how it was supposed to be.

So why was there this shapeless, sour ache in her heart now?

Her heat cycle had already passed, so why were her emotions still so turbulent?

Yu Guqiu averted her gaze, no longer looking at An Yizhu, and instead scrutinized her own reflection.

An Yizhu, seeing that Yu Guqiu had no reaction after hearing her angry words, felt even worse.

As expected, her emotions meant nothing to Yu Guqiu.

Whatever.

An Yizhu exhaled. It had always been her own one-sided affection.

What had Yu Guqiu ever done wrong? She had her career ambitions, her unfinished goals.

An Yizhu repeatedly reminded herself.

The nature of their relationship had been clearly outlined in the contract from the very beginning. As the Party B, all she had to do was accompany Yu Guqiu peacefully through these two years.

Ding—

The elevator arrived at their floor.

Yu Guqiu turned and walked out without a word, simply opening the door to their home.

The moment they stepped inside, she removed the necklace around her neck.

Hanging from it were their paired wedding rings.

An Yizhu had worn her ring ever since the wedding, while Yu Guqiu had kept hers hidden on a necklace beneath her clothes to avoid prying eyes.

But now, Yu Guqiu found herself thinking—why not just let everyone know?

That way, An Yizhu wouldn’t have anywhere to run.

But her unruly internal grumbling ended there. There were still serious matters to attend to.

She glanced at the time. “Grandma will be coming over today. She should arrive in about half an hour.”

An Yizhu looked at Yu Guqiu just in time to see her slipping the ring onto her finger.

So that was why she had called her home—to deal with Grandma.

An Yizhu understood her duties as Party B and nodded. “Got it. I’ll prepare some fruit for Grandma.”

As she spoke, she placed the watermelon on the kitchen counter, ready to slice it up first.

Yu Guqiu, however, watched her movements and asked, “Oh? This is the watermelon your junior gave you. How generous of you to share it with Grandma.”

An Yizhu didn’t immediately catch the implication in her words and instinctively replied, “Didn’t you keep looking at the watermelon earlier? I was planning to cut some for you first—”

Mid-sentence, she turned to look at Yu Guqiu.

Her expression turned strange.

Yu Guqiu met her gaze, her face as calm as ever, but her eyes were no longer as icy as before.

An Yizhu’s ears turned red first.

Wait—was she misinterpreting things again?

Had Yu Guqiu’s words just now sounded like she was jealous… of the watermelon?

Or rather, jealous of the junior who had given her the watermelon?

Had Yu Guqiu’s cold attitude earlier been because the junior had bought her a watermelon, and she had brought it home?

An Yizhu tried to piece it together, but she couldn’t be sure.

Because, setting emotions aside, there was another plausible explanation—that as the Party A, Yu Guqiu simply had certain expectations of her as Party B.

Meanwhile, Yu Guqiu’s ears, hidden behind her straight hair, also turned faintly red.

So An Yizhu had been so fixated on the watermelon because she had noticed Yu Guqiu glancing at it during lunch and wanted to sneak it home for her?

How childish.

But it was the kind of childishness that suited An Yizhu perfectly.

Yu Guqiu turned her head away, feeling even more unsettled.

Because while she found An Yizhu’s behavior unsurprising, she couldn’t understand her own reaction.

Ding-dong—

The doorbell snapped both of them out of their thoughts.

Even though nothing had happened, they both felt as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

An Yizhu’s hands fumbled as she sliced the watermelon, accidentally cutting it into a disc shape instead of wedges.

Yu Guqiu steadied herself and went to check the door.

Unsurprisingly, it was Yu Shanmei.

Grandma always had impeccable timing.

Yu Guqiu opened the door.

“Grandma, you’re here so early?”

Yu Shanmei took one look at Yu Guqiu and noticed her granddaughter’s complexion was rosier than usual.

She couldn’t help but smile. “What’s wrong? Did I come too early and interrupt something?”

“No, we were just waiting for you. We just didn’t expect you so soon.” Yu Guqiu replied, masking her earlier unease.

Meanwhile, An Yizhu, who had managed to reshape the watermelon into proper wedges, brought it to the table. “Grandma, you came too early. I only had time to prepare watermelon. We also have grapes and strawberries—just give me a moment.”

“No need for anything else. Watermelon is perfect. Lately, other fruits have been too sour, but watermelon is still sweet.” Yu Shanmei said with a meaningful smile.

An Yizhu and Yu Guqiu both fell into an awkward silence.

Yu Shanmei chuckled as she observed the young couple, thoroughly amused.

“Seems like I really did come at the wrong time. Xiao Qiu just got back from a business trip, and you two must be in the honeymoon phase. I’ve interrupted.”

Yu Guqiu knew her grandmother was teasing them and cut in, “Grandma, maybe we should focus on the main topic?”

“Alright, alright, let’s talk business.” Yu Shanmei said, still smiling as she admired Yu Guqiu’s expression.

Though her health had been declining recently, her spirits were better than ever.

Because the granddaughter she worried about the most had finally started to seem like a living, breathing person again—just like the Yu Guqiu from long ago, before her heart had turned cold.

An Yizhu, no longer needing to prepare fruit, turned her attention to the coffee machine, wanting to brew coffee for the two of them.

But just as she was searching for instructions on her phone, a call came in.

An Yizhu saw the caller ID: International Call.

Had she just started earning a little money when scam calls began targeting her?

She declined the call and continued fiddling with the coffee machine.

Yu Shanmei, seeing An Yizhu struggling at the counter, called out to her, “Xiao Zhu, come join us. No need to treat me like a guest. If I want something, I’ll ask.”

“Okay, Grandma.” An Yizhu replied, reluctantly abandoning her coffee-making efforts and sitting at the table—directly across from Yu Guqiu.

Great. This is awkward.

An Yizhu felt the awkwardness, but there was also a strange, fresh excitement.

It was a feeling she’d never experienced before.

Because she clearly sensed that this awkwardness was the kind that arose after a cold war with a partner, before properly making up, and having to pretend everything was fine in front of family.

Buzz—

Her phone rang again.

This time, it was a local number.

An Yizhu guessed it was part of the scammers’ coordinated attack. She was about to decline the call when it occurred to her—

Wouldn’t answering the phone be the perfect excuse to step away?

She glanced at Yu Shanmei for permission. “Grandma, I should check if this is urgent. This is the second call already.”

Yu Shanmei didn’t object. “Go ahead, then.”

Her intention in asking An Yizhu to sit with them was simply to show she didn’t treat her as an outsider.

The matter at hand didn’t actually concern her.

An Yizhu nodded, grabbed her phone, and hurried into the second bedroom.

The moment the door opened, Yu Shanmei caught a glimpse of the lived-in warmth of the room—decorated in a way Yu Guqiu would never bother with.

Her gaze lingered as An Yizhu disappeared behind the door, and she frowned.

“What’s wrong, Grandma?” Yu Guqiu noticed the change in her grandmother’s expression immediately.

Yu Shanmei gestured toward the second bedroom.

“I wasn’t planning to interfere in your marital affairs, but what’s going on here? Even if you two had a fight, you can’t just banish Xiao Zhu to the second bedroom.”

Yu Guqiu had anticipated this question and had a ready explanation.

“Right now is a critical time for work. You know about Xiao Zhu and me—sharing a room isn’t very… productive. And we’re also worried about our cycles—heat and rut—getting out of control.”

Yu Guqiu, ever the actress, put on a show of bashfulness in front of her grandmother, though her words were crystal clear.

Yu Shanmei, hearing the phrase “getting out of control,” was instantly embarrassed.

She regretted asking about the young couple’s private affairs!

Clearing her throat, she quickly changed the subject.

“Let’s get back to the main topic. Today, I met with the Ai family.”

Yu Guqiu looked up, puzzled. “Why would they suddenly reach out to you? Have they changed their minds about helping us?”

Yu Shanmei smiled. “The Ai family never helps ‘useless relatives.’ When it comes to investments, they’re strict and impartial. That’s the secret to their enduring success.”

To give Yu Corporation some breathing room, Yu Shanmei had tried asking the Ai family for an investment.

But the Ai family had no interest in pharmaceutical companies and had refused.

However, as a gesture of goodwill between relatives, they had given Yu Shanmei some emergency funds, which she was deeply grateful for.

“This time, they reached out because they heard you got married and wanted to congratulate you. They’re offering us a collaboration opportunity as a wedding gift.” Yu Shanmei explained kindly.

Yu Guqiu nodded seriously. “What do they want in return? Innovative drugs? Medical equipment? Access to the pharmaceutical market? Or senior care hospitals?”

“None of those. They’re still interested in the arts.” Yu Shanmei said.

“The arts? What can we offer them? Do they want Lumière? Absolutely not!” Yu Guqiu reacted strongly.

The only art-related asset she could think of was Lumière.

But Lumière was her key to turning things around—she couldn’t give it up.

“No, the Ai family is currently focused on nurturing artists. They want a painter.” Yu Shanmei clarified.

Yu Guqiu immediately turned to look at the second bedroom.

The only painter she could think of was An Yizhu.

Yu Shanmei didn’t understand the significance of Yu Guqiu’s glance but continued, “Recently, there was an international competition. The gold medal went to an established foreign artist, but the silver medal unexpectedly went to an unknown painter from China. The Ai family was particularly taken with that piece. Due to confidentiality agreements, the organizers couldn’t disclose the painter’s identity, but they did reveal one detail: the painter is from Jiangcheng.”

Yu Guqiu understood.

Though the mysterious Ai family was powerful, their connections were primarily international or concentrated in global metropolises.

Jiangcheng wasn’t part of their network.

Yu Guqiu found this somewhat amusing.

Jiangcheng’s underdeveloped status in the fashion world had inadvertently worked in their favor.

“So the Ai family wants us to use our local connections to find this painter.”

“Exactly. The Ai family has also reached out to the organizers.” Yu Shanmei said.

Yu Guqiu was grateful. “This is practically handing us money.”

Yu Shanmei shook her head. “The timing and location are favorable, but others in Jiangcheng are also eyeing this opportunity. Don’t be too optimistic. There’s not much I can do to help now.”

Seeing her grandmother’s defeated demeanor, Yu Guqiu felt a pang of sadness.

“Grandma, don’t worry. I’ll handle the company. I’ll make sure this works out.”

Yu Shanmei smiled and changed the subject. “How’s the company lately? I heard your trip was fruitful?”

Yu Guqiu pulled out her tablet and launched into a work update.

Meanwhile, in the second bedroom, An Yizhu was stunned by the so-called “scam call.”

She opened her email, checked the official website of the “Johnson Mo” competition, and finally verified the bank transfer records.

Only after cross-referencing all three could she believe the caller wasn’t a scammer.

The woman on the other end, in heavily accented Mandarin, said, “So, Ms. An, I’m really not a scammer.”

Her pronunciation was so off that An Yizhu had almost hung up immediately.

Fortunately, the caller quickly switched to English: “Hello, Ms. An. We’re from the ‘Johnson Mo’ Painting Competition. I’m Jane, the organizer. We’re calling to inform you that you’ve won the silver medal in this year’s competition.”

With multiple sources confirming the news, An Yizhu finally believed it and apologized for her earlier rudeness. “Sorry, I just never expected to win a silver medal on my first try.”

Jane laughed. “No, no, Ms. An, you’re too modest. You’re incredibly talented—your composition, your use of color, it’s all outstanding. I even see love in your work!”

Her broken Mandarin made An Yizhu dizzy, but the last word was emphatic.

Love!

An Yizhu glanced at the door.

Just beyond it was the person she loved.

Her painting had been inspired by their meeting.

Calling it “love,” though—An Yizhu shook her head.

From her crush on a fictional character to her attraction to Yu Guqiu’s looks, to her current infatuation, the journey hadn’t yet reached the depth she associated with “love.”

But if the painting had poured out all her emotions at the time, then yes, that was accurate.

“Hello? Ms. An, are you still there?” Jane asked anxiously when she didn’t get a response.

An Yizhu snapped back to reality. “Sorry, I got distracted. Thank you for calling. So, do I need to collect the award in person, or will the painting be returned to me?”

“Oh, sorry, Ms. An, I wasn’t clear. The award notification has been sent via email and will be permanently displayed on our website. The trophy will be mailed to you in a few days. But the reason I called is that your painting has caught the attention of many collectors. Are you interested in selling it?”

“No.” An Yizhu replied without hesitation.

This was the first painting she’d created after arriving here, inspired by her and Yu Guqiu’s story.

No matter how their relationship unfolded in the future, she wanted to keep this memento.

Jane didn’t press further. “That’s fine, Ms. An. We respect your decision. However, several galleries are interested in exhibiting your work. Would you be available to discuss this?”

Even though Yu Guqiu’s scriptwriter recruitment phase had ended, An Yizhu still needed to assist the animation department for a while.

So she politely declined. “I’m quite busy lately. I’d prefer the painting to be returned to Jiangcheng first.”

Jane misunderstood. “I see. We’ll arrange for it to be exhibited at a gallery in Jiangcheng. If no suitable partners are found, we’ll keep it in storage until you’re ready to collect it. We’ll email you an authorization form—just sign and return it. All future income reports will also be sent via email.”

Her delivery was much smoother now, clearly part of the organizers’ standard procedure.

For An Yizhu, this was an unexpected bonus.

Though painting was personal, no artist disliked having their work appreciated by others.

Moreover, she lacked the proper conditions to store an oil painting, so letting professionals handle it was the better choice.

Finally, An Yizhu confirmed the details with Jane: the painting would be fully entrusted to them, and she would be formally notified three business days before any exhibition.

“Thank you for your help.” An Yizhu said after hearing the arrangements. Now she understood why the competition had such a stellar reputation online.

Every detail was meticulously handled.

“No trouble at all. We’d love to collaborate with you again, Ms. An. Looking forward to meeting you in the future!” Jane said cheerfully.

After hanging up, An Yizhu stared at the announcement on her computer screen.

This was her first step out of her shell.

Once she’d calmed down, she returned to the dining room, where Yu Guqiu and Yu Shanmei were still discussing company matters.

Not wanting to interrupt, An Yizhu went back to the kitchen to fiddle with the coffee machine.

Soon, two cups of coffee appeared on the table.

Yu Shanmei absentmindedly took a sip before realizing, “Hmm? When did Xiao Zhu come out? It’s getting late—my doctor said I shouldn’t stay out too long.”

Yu Guqiu smiled. “Grandma, you’re actually following doctor’s orders now?”

Yu Shanmei chuckled. “Of course. I may not be a doctor, but I know my own body. Staying at the hospital does make me feel better. Right now, I just want to live as long as I can.”

Yu Guqiu frowned. “Don’t say that. Once we get through this financial crisis, we’ll develop effective drugs!”

Listening to their conversation, An Yizhu suddenly realized something.

So this was why Yu Guqiu had clung so tightly to Yuhe Pharmaceuticals and worked so hard to make money.

It wasn’t just for fame or profit—she wanted to fund research for a drug that could treat her grandmother.

An Yizhu looked at Yu Guqiu with new understanding.

Perhaps, from the beginning, the reason for Yu Guqiu’s eventual “darkening” in the original story hadn’t been Ji Lu at all.

In the novel, her grandmother’s death might have been the true catalyst.

As for why the original story had framed it as a conflict with the Omega female lead—that remained unclear.

But An Yizhu felt a renewed hope in changing the plot.

Though the accelerated timeline had thrown her off, there was good news: Grandma wasn’t in critical condition yet. There was still time.

Yu Guqiu glanced over and noticed that An Yizhu seemed to be in high spirits after her phone call.

Her mood lightened slightly.

She was becoming acutely aware of a problem: this human-shaped inhibitor was affecting her too much. Even outside her heat cycle, trivial matters could sway her emotions.

Yet she was powerless to stop it.

All she could do was hope this human inhibitor would cooperate a little more.

An Yizhu and Yu Guqiu escorted Yu Shanmei to the elevator.

Once Yu Shanmei was safely with her bodyguards, she smiled and bid them farewell.

Back inside, Yu Guqiu filled An Yizhu in on what she’d missed during the call.

“I updated Grandma on Lumière’s plans. In the second half of the year, we’ll form several project teams centered around Ji Lu.”

“Mhm.” An Yizhu replied noncommittally.

Mentioning Ji Lu didn’t exactly spark her enthusiasm.

Yu Guqiu, dissatisfied with her reaction, added, “Scriptwriting Team Leader Liao said your storyboards are excellent. She mentioned that storyboards are a great way to streamline the creative process, reducing production time and ensuring the final product stays true to the script. She suggested you join the project teams to help.”

Yu Guqiu tried to remain composed.

She also recalled their chaotic elevator conversation, where An Yizhu had expressed a desire for a university experience.

So she added, “Outside of project work, you’re free to attend classes as usual.”

Lately, An Yizhu had grown disillusioned with campus life. She’d rather contribute to Lumière than go to school.

But with Ji Lu leading these projects—

Could she really work with her harmoniously?

“If I join, will Scriptwriter Ji have any objections?”

That wasn’t what she really wanted to ask.

“Ji Lu is outstanding—both her work and her character are trustworthy. You don’t need to worry about her excluding you.” Yu Guqiu said, maintaining her mature demeanor.

But An Yizhu couldn’t hold back her agitation. “I know. Ji Lu is outstanding. You’ve known her since childhood. She’s a talented scriptwriter who can help Lumière—and you.”

Her words tumbled out uncontrollably, her emotions surging again.

Liking someone was so hard. Why did her feelings swing so wildly, making her act unlike herself?

She was actually upset just because Yu Guqiu had praised someone else.

Happy moments were so fleeting, but the bitterness lingered.

If possible, she never wanted to like anyone again!

But right now, she wanted clarity. She wanted to know the truth, even if it hurt.

“So, is she your type?”

An Yizhu hadn’t noticed that the suppressant she’d taken before lunch had worn off.

Yu Guqiu, however, immediately sensed the sharp, bittersweet scent of licorice breaking through the inhibitor patch, flooding the room.

She watched as An Yizhu turned her face away, but the shadows couldn’t hide the downward curve of her lips.

What kind of expression was that?

It was wronged.

The sour licorice scent tugged at Yu Guqiu’s heart, filling her with guilt.

It felt like she’d committed some unforgivable sin.

And before her, An Yizhu resembled a wronged puppy—unable to resent its owner but desperate for an explanation.

Yu Guqiu understood now.

An Yizhu hadn’t stopped admiring her looks. On the contrary, she’d been restraining herself from looking further.

Her infatuation had evolved into possessiveness.

Even after countless tests confirmed An Yizhu was harmless, she was still an Alpha.

And when another Alpha encroached on her “territory,” she was unhappy.

Yu Guqiu clenched her hands under the table.

Could they still maintain a purely cooperative relationship like this?

Could they still play their roles as the commanding Party A and the compliant Party B?

Before she could sort through these thoughts—

Her hand moved on its own, reaching out to rest on An Yizhu’s head.