Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 25

Lu Luozhu woke up in the hospital the next day.

The sterile-smelling ward was empty except for Qian Qianqian, who was glaring at her resentfully. If looks could kill, Qian Qianqian would already be feasting on sashimi.

Lu Luozhu blinked in confusion, an IV drip attached to the back of her left hand.

The pain in her chest had faded, leaving only an overwhelming exhaustion.

Lu Luozhu: “Morning?”

Qian Qianqian, seeing the person on the bed stir, replied with a complicated tone: “Good afternoon.”

Lu Luozhu: “You look like you need this bed more than I do.”

Qian Qianqian: “You never mentioned you had congenital heart disease.”

Lu Luozhu blinked her dry eyes, her thoughts drifting into memory. She did have congenital heart disease—but that was before she transmigrated. There was no reason for it to persist after entering this novel.

Qian Qianqian stepped closer to Lu Luozhu. “You passed out during the livestream yesterday. It trended.”

Lu Luozhu tested the waters: “Congrats, saved you the cost of buying a hot search?”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

She felt like her own heart was acting up now.

Lu Luozhu didn’t tease her further. She grabbed her phone from beside the pillow, unlocked it, and pulled up the replay of yesterday’s livestream.

The alpha, who had been unboxing luxury items, suddenly clutched her chest, taking shallow, restrained breaths before collapsing weakly onto the table. Her face pressed against a diamond necklace—one of only three in the world—while her hand rested near a pair of custom red-soled heels. Her fingers brushed against a crystal perfume bottle, the reflections of all these expensive items casting a dazzling glow that masked the pallor of her face.

—A scene of decadence.

The livestream chat scrolled rapidly.

“Did she just fall asleep? No way.”

“Get up already, you villain—I want to buy my wife’s same outfit!”

“Where’s the mod? The platform really lets streamers sleep on air? Reported.”

“As long as Lu Luozhu keeps her mouth shut, she’s actually really pretty.”

“Gonna sneak a kiss while she’s not looking. No one will notice (sneaky cat emoji).”

“Even non-celebrities are trying to cash in on influencer clout now? Lu Luozhu, I look down on you. Also, let me kiss you.”

The chat flew by. Lu Luozhu dragged the progress bar until the moment the door opened—Qi Zi walked in with light steps, approaching her before gently pulling her into an embrace.

“Little Bamboo?”

The omega’s expression flickered from disdain to confusion as she leaned closer to the phone screen to read the chat, like a snow fox darting toward a camera lens.

Her brows furrowed when she spotted a user named “Evil Stepmother Stay Away from Our Baby.” Unable to help herself, she clarified:

“Lu Luozhu isn’t a bad stepmother. The baby likes her a lot.”

The suddenly called-out user replied with an exclamation mark and promptly changed their username.

“Wifey, wifey, look at me!”

Qi Zi didn’t linger on the chat. A muffled sound of pain reached her ears—so quiet she almost mistook it for the wind outside.

She turned and leaned closer to Lu Luozhu. “What did you say?”

The only response was ragged breathing and lips tinged with blue.

The livestream cut off the next second.

The hashtag climbed the trending list.

My Ship Finally Fed Us Sugar

The top post featured a frosty, ethereal omega beauty cradling her unconscious little wife.

The delicate young wife collapsed weakly into the beauty’s embrace, like the legendary Xizi clutching her heart, her brows slightly furrowed. Even her hair strands seemed soft, entwining around the beauty’s fingertips.

Lu Luozhu murmured, “You know, if fans found out I actually fainted from a heart attack…”

Qian Qianqian retorted, “The prerequisite for pity fans is actually having fans.”

Lu Luozhu: “.”

The nurse making rounds came to remove Lu Luozhu’s IV, reciting precautions that sounded all too familiar from before Lu Luozhu’s transmigration.

Now fully awake, Lu Luozhu picked up her phone and saw a message:

Madam Liang: “Lu Luozhu, your creditors from the casino came looking for you. You’ve disappointed me greatly.”

Blinking her dry eyes, Lu Luozhu couldn’t immediately recall who Madam Liang was. After a pause, the memory surfaced from the depths of her mind.

Oh. Her stepmother.

Staring at the ceiling with parched eyes, another message popped up:

“You’ve brought shame to the Lu family. Your father is furious. Get back here immediately.”

The original host had accumulated substantial gambling debts—amounts far beyond her means to repay. With her cards frozen by the Lu family and Qi Zi refusing to lend her money, returning wasn’t an option for Lu Luozhu.

Scrolling through her contacts, she found the casino loan sharks. The original host, in her desperation for funds, had foolishly provided her home address and personal details—a move so absurd it would make filial piety weep. Unable to reach Lu Luozhu, the debt collectors had resorted to delivering an ultimatum to the Lu household: pay up or face exposure to tabloids.

Lu Luozhu’s current liquidity was dire, her account previously dwindled to a meager 32.54 yuan.

Fortunately, Li’s Pastry Shop had profited from Qi Zi’s endorsement deals. During Lu Luozhu’s unconsciousness, a sum had been deposited into her account.

Initiating a transfer, Lu Luozhu settled the casino debt.

The creditor, perhaps surprised by her prompt payment, slowly responded: “Thank you for your patronage.”

Lu Luozhu: “We’re square now. Destroy the IOU.”

True to their word, they sent a video of the promissory note being burned.

The hospital room fell silent until Qian Qianqian spoke hoarsely, “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

Like how your family called me, demanding Qi Zi cover your 3-million-yuan debt.

Lu Luozhu flipped her phone face down on the pillow. Without makeup, her pale face contrasted with her tall frame—lying in bed, she exuded not frailty but the shattered elegance of a sleeping beauty.

Her mind still foggy, Lu Luozhu spoke without filter: “Oh, it’s nothing serious. I just nearly resorted to nude loans. Don’t worry—I’d rather sell myself than leak one of Qi Zi’s private photos. After all, angering loan sharks might cost me an arm, but crossing Qi Zi would get me dismembered for parts. Not that I’d fetch much anyway, given my most valuable organ isn’t in great shape.”

Qian Qianqian’s expression contorted: “You fucking—”

Standing at the doorway after leaving the doctor’s office, Qi Zi overheard the exchange. Her phone displayed Madam Liang’s latest message:

Only now did she learn of Lu Luozhu’s 3-million-yuan gambling debt. Preferring to avoid scandal, Madam Liang had forwarded the creditor’s details directly to Qi Zi.

Three million—to Qi Zi, less valuable than a single necklace.

For Lu Luozhu, with all cards frozen… an astronomical sum.

Payments from the child-rearing show wouldn’t come quickly, and Unicorn’s merchandise collaborations would take time to generate revenue.

Omega stood before the hospital room, her expression dark, a cold, mocking smile tugging at her lips.

So all this time, Lu Luozhu’s flattery and gentleness were for this. She knew this person couldn’t have changed overnight.

The private hospital room was quiet, with no passersby. The setting sun cast its light on the pale face of the omega actress, her breathing steady but her calm eyes hiding turbulent undercurrents.

Liar.

A heartless liar.

The muffled voice of an alpha came from inside the room.

Qi Zi coldly pushed the door open. “Who’s trying to sell you off in pieces?”

Qian Qianqian, who had been about to hit someone with a medical chart, awkwardly stopped her movement. “You’re here.”

The omega sat on the sofa beside the hospital bed, shadows enveloping her. Her striking features were lowered, her moist lips gradually drying as her fingers unconsciously tugged at the coat draped over her shoulders—Lu Luozhu’s coat. The faint scent of bergamot lingering around her only made Qi Zi feel more unsettled.

Last night, Qi Zi had stayed in the hospital. She hadn’t returned to the sanatorium or booked a room nearby. Instead, she had leaned over Lu Luozhu’s bed, staying there the entire night.

A faint sense of regret and self-blame rose in her heart. If she had noticed Lu Luozhu fainting during the livestream, could she have gotten help sooner?

Lu Luozhu looked innocent, her long hair slightly disheveled from lying in bed. A slender wrist emerged from the blankets, pressing against the inside of Qi Zi’s wrist.

“Are you upset?” Lu Luozhu took Qi Zi’s hand and pressed it against her own face. It must be because she hadn’t slept with her patron last night, making her angry. “Feeling bad? Do you need a mark?”

Qi Zi’s heart ached. She swallowed hard and forced a sarcastic smile.

“Lu Luozhu, cut the fake affection.”

Despite her biting words, the omega quietly released a faint scent of pear blossom.

Before Qi Zi could snipe further, Lu Luozhu, clad in a hospital gown, gently embraced her. A kiss infused with bergamot and mint mouthwash landed on Qi Zi’s soft, swollen scent gland.

The embrace was warm, their hearts pounding rapidly. “Qi Zi, don’t be angry. I’ll sleep with you tonight.”

After paying off her debt, the little golden canary—now left with only thirty-two yuan and fifty-four cents in her pocket—eagerly pecked at the omega’s scent gland.

Qi Zi: “Stop messing around. Your health—”

Lu Luozhu interrupted: “I’m fine.”

The little golden canary worked hard.

She served her patron until she was moaning softly.

“Good sister, the nurses won’t come for rounds now. Can I hold you?”

Qian Qianqian tactfully excused herself.

She even dragged Ningning, who had been peeking at the door, away with her.

“Sweetie, this isn’t something for you to see.”

“Mommy, is Mommy sick? QAQ”

Ningning’s childish voice questioned Qian Qianqian, who could only fumble for an excuse.

At night, Qi Zi stepped out of the hospital room, hugging Lu Luozhu’s clothes, her eyes filled with satisfaction.

“Silver-tongued liar.”

The evening breeze stirred Qi Zi’s long hair as she leaned against a bench in the hospital and took out her phone.

The pain on the back of her neck reminded her of the lingering, passionate kiss that had left her knees weak and her mouth watering.

Yet throughout it all, Lu Luozhu hadn’t mentioned the debt.

She really knew how to bide her time.

Qi Zi let out a cold laugh, her arrogant eyebrows arching high. Anything that could be solved with money was no issue in her eyes. Having grown up in an orphanage with little pocket money and struggling financially through school, she knew all too well how money could bring endless hardships. Thus, Qi Zi was adept at using wealth to bind someone to her.

At the very least, she was exceptionally skilled at using money to tie Lu Luozhu down.

A cold breeze brushed past Qi Zi’s feverish gland, its contents completely drained from being sucked dry.

The doctor said Lu Luozhu’s heart condition wasn’t serious—her fainting was likely just an isolated incident.

The restless, burning pheromones were utterly extinguished.

Bored, Qi Zi tapped on her phone and added the creditor’s contact.

Q: Show me Lu Luozhu’s IOU.

AAA Unsecured Loans: ?

Q: I’ll repay her debt.

AAA Unsecured Loans: It’s already settled. The IOU is gone.

In the darkness, Qi Zi froze. Repaid? When had the money been returned? Where would Lu Luozhu even get the funds?

AAA Unsecured Loans: [Screenshot]

The bank transfer timestamp showed it had been processed while she was standing at the door, listening to Lu Luozhu’s nonsense.

Q: Does she have any other outstanding debts?

AAA Unsecured Loans: ?

Even through the screen, Qi Zi could sense the other person’s bewilderment.

She finally turned off her phone, a tingling ache spreading through her chest.

It seemed… she had misunderstood Lu Luozhu.

……

This wasn’t the first time Lu Luozhu had been hospitalized after suddenly passing out. Similar episodes had happened many times even before she transmigrated.

Fortunately, after a full checkup, her heart condition was deemed manageable.

But not seeing Qi Zi these past few days left Lu Luozhu uneasy.

Her sugar mommy was nowhere to be found—no presence, no money.

Lu Luozhu didn’t even have cab fare now.

An Song: The show recording is in two days. You got the message but didn’t reply.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Lu Luozhu was startled to notice several missed calls.

Opening the group chat, she saw the director had @-ed her over a dozen times with no response. These past few days, she’d been drifting in and out of sleep, and whenever she woke, her first thought was whether her sugar mommy had sent any money.

She’d nearly missed the crucial show recording.

Lu Luozhu replied in the group: Noted.

Director: I almost came to your place in person.

Lu Luozhu typed one-handed: I’ve been busy with something monumental.

The director didn’t reply, likely pondering just how “monumental” Lu Luozhu’s matter could be.

An Song: By “monumental,” you don’t mean livestreaming unboxing Qi Zi’s custom jewelry, do you? Or dating those popular girl group members?

The group only had the three variety show guests and the director.

An Song spoke without restraint.

Everyone knew she had an equal talent for offending anyone. The moment she sent that, silence followed.

Qian Qianqian stopped at a red light and glanced at Lu Luozhu’s phone screen. “She’s a lunatic. Just ignore her.”

Ningning sat in the back in a child seat, clutching a frog plushie, still lamenting not getting to try frog hotpot.

Qian Qianqian patiently explained to the toddler that kids couldn’t eat frog or hotpot. Ningning was well-behaved, but lately, she’d been clinging tighter to the frog plushie.

Lu Luozhu chuckled and typed without hesitation: What I’ve been busy with is way bigger than that.

Qian Qianqian watched as Lu Luozhu typed out the next line.

Lu Luozhu: “If I don’t take good care of myself in the hospital these days, Ningning will probably find herself a stepmother. And you, my dear friend, will have to follow my charming widow around, offering her a bouquet of pure lilies.”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

She only regretted having eyes.

After sending the message, Lu Luozhu put her phone in the storage compartment, ignoring An Song’s barrage of private messages.

Lu Luozhu: “An Song contacts me more often than Qi Zi does. Does she have a crush on me and want to be my next sugar daddy?”

Qian Qianqian: “Madam, I suggest you shut your mouth and stop talking.”

Qian Qianqian couldn’t understand how Lu Luozhu, who appeared so gentle and soft—sometimes even too soft for an alpha—could have such a talent for infuriating people the moment she opened her mouth.

Unaware of others’ thoughts, Lu Luozhu returned to the villa with her child, only to find Qi Zi’s mansion wasn’t empty. The reception room was filled with professional photography equipment.

“Did I take a wrong turn?”

“Teacher Qi heard you wanted to shoot cooking videos and specially arranged a professional team to assist you.”

Lu Luozhu hadn’t planned to film today. During her hospital stay, Qian Qianqian had someone edit and upload videos of Lu Luozhu making bento boxes online.

The account on the video streaming site used Lu Luozhu’s real name. The platform was flooded with ridicule aimed at her, but the video quickly went viral.

Many viewers clicked out of sheer mockery, expecting Lu Luozhu to put on another act or pretentiously chop a few ingredients. To their surprise—she actually knew how to cook???

That night, the account surpassed 200,000 followers.

“Mommy, hug!” The little one wrapped her tiny arms around Lu Luozhu’s neck and whined, “Mommy, can I skip tutoring today?”

No child enjoys lessons. Lu Luozhu ruffled Ningning’s hair and first dismissed the editing and filming crew. Her illness wasn’t fully recovered, and she easily grew tired. Yawning, she headed upstairs for a nap.

Unexpectedly, the show’s crew arrived early. As usual, they would livestream before official recording began.

Qi Zi had found Ningning a new tutor. Unlike the previous Teacher Li, this one had extensive teaching experience and treated children well. Qi Zi didn’t demand academic excellence—she just hoped Ningning would communicate more with others.

Ningning could never find her mom during study time, and over time, she developed resistance to the lessons.

“(Kicks door open) Lu Luozhu, make me three dishes and a soup! I want some too! (Puffs out little chest)”

“I really like Lu Luozhu. She has this vibe of calm insanity.”

“I heard rumors she used to frequent casinos—true or false?”

“I think it’s fake. If Lu Luozhu really gambled, she’d probably lose Qi Zi’s entire fortune.”

“Seriously? People believe such rumors? Sure, she has many flaws, but I don’t think she lacks self-control.”

“She looks so wifey (is it okay to say that?)”

The livestream chat scrolled rapidly as the host was led upstairs by the housekeeper to Lu Luozhu’s study.

Though called a study, it barely held any books.

When the door opened, the chat momentarily froze.

“…Sister upstairs who said Lu Luozhu doesn’t gamble, how’s your face feeling now?”

“What kind of respectable family keeps limited edition playing cards in their study???”

“First glance: An empty-headed freeloading Alpha who hates reading. Second glance: You’re playing cards with a child? Are you even human?”

The nanny looked somewhat awkward at this scene. “Madam is conducting an early education lesson with the young miss.”

The host couldn’t comprehend it and was utterly shocked. “Early education lesson teaching what??”

Both the host and the live stream audience thought Lu Luozhu must have gone mad.

Lu Luozhu and Ningning sat on opposite sides of the desk, the heavy antique solid wood table forming an invisible boundary between them.

The Alpha’s slender fingers shuffled the cards with practiced ease, dancing nimbly as the cards seemed to take on a life of their own in her hands. The golden edges of the cards glimmered under the light, making it look like a breathtaking magic performance. With a swift motion, the shuffled deck was placed face down on the table.

Ningning stared in awe.

Lu Luozhu first explained the basic rules, then gestured for Ningning to draw a card.

Having previously learned about comparing card values with her early education teacher, Ningning gazed at the card in her small hand with innocent curiosity.

The three-year-old’s tiny palm struggled to hold the card properly, making the proportions seem awkward.

In contrast, Lu Luozhu handled the cards with elegant precision, her fingers gliding over the golden edges as if selecting ripe fruit in an orchard—everything under perfect control.

“Heart four,” Ningning declared in her childish voice as she placed a card on the table. Seeming unsure, she carefully examined it before nodding firmly.

Lu Luozhu glanced at her own cards but didn’t rush to win. Each card she played was just slightly higher than Ningning’s.

The host was dumbfounded. Just when it seemed the game would end after Ningning played three, four, five, six, and seven, Lu Luozhu revealed four kings.

What kind of luck was this?

The live chat flooded with ellipses and question marks.

“Ahhhh! Lu Luozhu’s effortless expression is everything!”

“I don’t really play cards, but judging by her shuffling, she’s definitely trained in this.”

“Damn…am I the only one noticing how beautiful Lu Luozhu’s fingers are?”

As the game concluded, Lu Luozhu seemed to know exactly what the audience wanted to see. Her fingers danced across the cards again, gathering the scattered deck with a single fluid motion. With a flick of her wrist, the cards fanned out before snapping shut instantly.

Ningning’s mouth hung open in amazement.

Mommy is so awesome!

Mommy is the best mommy in the whole world!

In the quiet sanatorium, Qi Zi, who had been flipping through a magazine, kept glancing at the live stream on her tablet.

When she saw Lu Luozhu playing cards, her calm brows furrowed slightly.

This could teach the child bad habits.

But it was dazzling.

Under the warm lighting, Lu Luozhu’s graceful demeanor made it easy to forget she’d once owed three million in gambling debts.

Impossible to look away from.

Qi Zi’s heart raced unexpectedly—was something wrong with her heart too?

A moment later, Lu Luozhu walked in front of the live-streaming camera. “Sorry, I was just giving my baby an early education lesson and didn’t notice you’d arrived.”

The host’s voice was hoarse: “Luozhu is so impressive. Any tips you’d like to share with our live audience?”

Lu Luozhu seemed to ponder for a moment, tilting her head with bright eyes. “The trick is not to gamble.”

The host: “…”

Live comments: “?”

Qi Zi chuckled.

Lu Luozhu had just spoken as if making a joke. She said, “Pay attention to your opponent’s expression when they look at their cards. Many players deliberately conceal their hesitation with stiff body language, thinking they’re hiding it well when it’s actually quite obvious. If they sit up straight without changing their expression, it means they’re confident of victory. On the other hand, if their eyes dart around and they keep glancing at the chips, then they’re probably in trouble—no doubt thinking about how to exit the game early.”

“Of course, all of this could be an act.”

The host: “…Thank you for sharing.”

You really dare to share that?

You even casually mentioned the word “chips”—seems like you’ve played quite a lot.

Qi Zi chuckled speechlessly: “…”

Qi Zi opened a chat window and sent a message to someone with an entirely black profile picture: “Look into when Lu Luozhu learned card games.”