Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 16

Qi Zi’s body stiffened, her fox-like eyes filled with shock and confusion.

What was she saying?

Qi Zi couldn’t understand the first part of her words, but the latter half… she understood, yet couldn’t believe.

What did she mean by… “Can you please not abandon me?”

Those words could have come from anyone—except Lu Luozhu. She knew Lu Luozhu despised her, knew Lu Luozhu was drawn to her beauty and wanted her to take the initiative, even forcing her to say humiliating things when her pheromones spiraled out of control.

Why would someone like that fear being abandoned?

Shouldn’t Qi Zi be the one who was supposed to be abandoned?

Lu Luozhu didn’t give Qi Zi time to dwell on it. The next second, Qi Zi was suddenly pinned onto the bed. The overly heated Alpha nuzzled her teeth against the gland on the back of Qi Zi’s neck, as if the Alpha gender instinctively knew how to seek spiritual pleasure.

The clumsy kisses and nibbles tormented Qi Zi every second. A misty haze surfaced in her usually clear, indifferent eyes as she stared fearfully yet expectantly at the ceiling lamp.

“Little Bamboo, don’t do this.”

Qi Zi’s voice trembled with the threat of tears. She refused to show even a hint of vulnerability in front of Lu Luozhu.

Her Little Bamboo wasn’t the same as before—she wasn’t cute at all anymore.

But the turmoil of pheromones inside Qi Zi left her no room or strength to escape.

The back of her neck was rubbed red and burning until, as if surrendering, it released the pear blossom scent of her pheromones.

“Teacher Qi, you smell so good.”

In her dazed state, Lu Luozhu marked Qi Zi’s gland—though to be precise, it wasn’t a proper mark, just a simple bite.

She bit through, releasing Alpha pheromones that soothed the Omega’s agitation.

“Mmm—”

“Don’t move,” Lu Luozhu murmured hoarsely. “Please cooperate with my work, Teacher Qi.”

What nonsense was she spouting now?!

Lu Luozhu restrained her restless superior, leaving faint pink fingerprints on Qi Zi’s waist with her elegantly shaped fingers.

“Even if I haven’t earned merit, I’ve at least put in hard labor. Professor, please give me a raise.”

The Omega’s pheromones lingered in her mouth, bringing a sliver of clarity to Lu Luozhu’s mind. “Someone like me, who does physical labor, deserves higher pay. If the professor can’t offer a satisfactory number, I might one day, if things get too hard…”

Qi Zi braced for a threat.

Lu Luozhu: “I might just file for labor arbitration.”

Qi Zi: “…”

She wanted to cover Lu Luozhu’s mouth and tell her to hurry up and get on with it.

After instinctively marking the Omega, Lu Luozhu finally collapsed weakly onto the pillow, as if her job was done—everything beyond this point had nothing to do with her.

Her heart beat steadily, as if it had never ached at all.

Left completely unattended, Qi Zi: “…”

The usually untouchable actress, Teacher Qi, bit her lip in suppressed frustration. “You’re terrible!”

She didn’t even know what she had been expecting.

Kicking Lu Luozhu under the covers, she clutched her disheveled shirt and headed to the bathroom, turning on the cold shower.

Lu Luozhu slept until dawn. Qi Zi dozed against the headboard, a fever-reducing medicine placed on the nightstand. In the morning light, Qi Zi brushed aside the stray hairs on her forehead and pressed it against Lu Luozhu’s.

“The fever’s gone.”

Before leaving, Qi Zi threw the coat from the bag onto Lu Luozhu and walked away quietly.

Qian Qianqian emerged from Ningning’s room, yawning as she walked.

“Madam ran a fever during the show—fans were worried sick. At least this time, she made headlines for something other than stirring up drama.”

Qian Qianqian slid into the driver’s seat of the Phoenix Chariot, a fried dough sticks dangling from her mouth. “Tomorrow’s the last day of filming for this episode. Your crew wraps up shooting today—heading back to the capital tonight?”

As if suddenly remembering something, she added, “The post-production for the movie you just wrapped is dragging on. You probably won’t have any new releases in the second half of the year, so your exposure will definitely drop. All those flashy attention-seekers are eyeing you.”

Qi Zi: “Hmph. Let my work speak for itself. I don’t care about empty fame.”

“Sure, you’re above it all.” Qian Qianqian smirked. “Not waiting for Madam?”

At the mention of Lu Luozhu, Qi Zi’s expression darkened instantly. The memory of someone snoring soundly last night, while he suppressed his urges under a cold shower, made his face even grimmer than usual.

“She took my money, and now she expects me to wait for her? Even while living under my roof, she dares to make me wait. If she ever rises to fame, will I have to kowtow three times just to see her?”

Qian Qianqian: “Huh? Wait—”

“Since when did you start getting sarcastic?”

“Is sarcasm contagious through pheromones now?”

……

“Ahhhhhh!!! Lu Luozhu looks so much better today than yesterday! I kinda wanna scold this wicked stepmom, but seeing Lu Luozhu looking half-dead yesterday, I actually felt a little sorry for her??”

“Am I seeing things? Lu Luozhu’s face was pale yesterday, but today it’s suddenly glowing?”

“Kinda like a vixen who just finished dual cultivation.”

“Ningning, sweetie, let Auntie give you a squeeze! Rawr!”

“Rawr!”

The three little ones huddled together—Bai Mianmian holding Little Jasmine’s hand, while Little Jasmine rested her head on Ningning’s shoulder.

An Song glanced sideways at Lu Luozhu. “Didn’t expect to see you alive after last night.”

Lu Luozhu smiled. “Thanks to your kind words, I’m doing just fine.”

Bai Rui frowned. “Weird, why do I smell pear blossoms? Did one of you spray perfume?”

Lu Luozhu’s smile faltered. She couldn’t clearly recall what happened last night—only fragments of a dream about an endless pear blossom grove, the damp floral scent clinging to her as she pressed her lips to the sweetest stamen.

When she woke this morning, she was clean, dressed in fresh clothes, and the coat she’d left with Qi Zi had been flung onto her face.

Her bank account showed two transfers—one for 300,000, the other for 50,000.

The latter had a note: “Perfect Attendance Bonus.”

The perfume discussion didn’t last long before the host announced the day’s task.

The Jiangnan town was shrouded in drizzle. The guests stood under the eaves as dark clouds gathered overhead.

First came a fine mist, then raindrops as fat as beans drummed against the white walls and gray tiles. Rain in Jiangnan was relentless, often pouring for hours on end.

Today’s mission: selling goods.

Lu Luozhu was assigned to the familiar herbal medicine shop.

The ancient town saw few visitors on rainy days, and the shop’s sour plum broth went untouched.

An Song was posted at the portrait studio across the street, while Bai Rui set up a stall selling hot tangyuan.

The sparse number of tourists made the production team realize the game’s unreasonable setup, but with tasks already assigned, there was no room for reconsideration.

Tourists, blocked by the heavy rain, stood under the eaves, glancing around restlessly. Some, irritated by the dampness, shook off rainwater while others raised their phones to capture the misty scenery.

Lu Luozhu: “Sweetheart, want some frog hotpot?”

Ningning’s listless expression instantly brightened: “Yes!”

Lu Luozhu leaned down and whispered something in her ear—only fragments like “umbrella,” “staff,” and “backup” were audible.

“Guys, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“The stepmom’s about to stir up trouble again.”

“That scheming look on Lu Luozhu’s face is so adorable—I’m starting to understand my wife’s happiness.”

“Speaking of Qi Zi, word is her filming location is just five kilometers from here. Folks, I have a bold theory…”

“Stop guessing! Someone snapped a photo of my wife with a gland patch on the back of her neck—and the edges were red! A normal mark wouldn’t be that inflamed!”

“!!!”

“Lu Luozhu, how dare you?!”

The live chat buzzed with speculation until Ningning was seen running back from the production team, clutching a stack of umbrellas under a tiny parasol. She stumbled into the pharmacy.

The elderly herbalist, grinding medicine, glanced up as the little girl wobbled toward him. His reproachful gaze shifted to Lu Luozhu’s pallid complexion before he sighed and looked away.

Kids these days have more energy than adults.

The herbalist had never seen anything like it.

Tourists sheltering under the eaves noticed a sign propped outside the traditional medicine shop—neatly written in elegant calligraphy:

“Free umbrella with purchase of sour plum tea. First come, first served.”

A childlike doodle of a frog holding an umbrella adorned the bottom right corner.

Tourists: !

An Song & Bai Rui: ?

Production team: ???

Ningning had just said the shop urgently needed to borrow umbrellas?!

The crew always accommodated participating businesses politely, fulfilling requests promptly.

Shop staff? Did she mean Lu Luozhu?!

Scamming the production team—have you no shame?!

Lu Luozhu watched the bustling crowd at the entrance, victory assured. She simply smiled and refocused on her phone.

350,000 yuan transferred to an account.

The owner of a time-honored pastry brand was flustered: “Rest assured, our new cheesecake uses premium ingredients—customers will love it!”

Lu Luozhu recalled that Li Ji Pastry, despite its century-old legacy, had struggled to adapt to the internet age. Their quality and taste were excellent, yet sales lagged behind trendy brands. In the original novel, a lucky break later propelled them to fame, expanding to over 10,000 stores nationwide and even overseas.

While Ningning greeted customers, Lu Luozhu lounged in a rocking chair, chin propped on her hand. “Mind hiring a spokesperson?”

The owner nervously replied, “Who did you have in mind?”

He assumed the investor wanted to push a protégé into the role.

Lu Luozhu: “Qi Zi. She’s perfect.”

Owner: ?

You really think we can afford her?