Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 26

A script was placed before Qi Zi.

Qian Qianqian strongly disagreed, “A free performance?! Lu Luozhu must be dreaming. Just skim through the script—it’s not worth clearing your schedule for.”

The sanatorium was lush with greenery. Qi Zi leaned back on a bench, flipping through the script. In the distance, a small natural lake shimmered, where two swans glided together, one of them carrying a cluster of fluffy little heads on its back.

Baby swans are gray, resembling ducks, and their quacks sound no different.

Qi Zi turned to the first page of the script, where the film’s title was written.

Burning

Qian Qianqian watched Qi Zi, lost in thought. “Zhou Fan was blacklisted by investors before. Lu Luozhu shouldn’t have asked you to star in his work.”

Qian Qianqian couldn’t fathom Lu Luozhu’s reasoning—she had poured nearly her entire fortune into the film.

Investing in movies is a quick way to lose money for the inexperienced. Lu Luozhu had already sunk millions into it, and this was just the initial cost. More funding would inevitably be needed later. What if it flopped…?

Qi Zi ignored Qian Qianqian’s rambling and flipped to the next page, scanning the synopsis.

At the first line, her fingers trembled slightly, leaving a faint mark on the pristine A4 paper.

A corrupt real estate developer had constructed a building that failed to meet national safety standards. Located in a prime area, many units had already been sold as presales. Once the money was in their pockets, how could the developer possibly return it? Despite the building being deemed hazardous, they delivered it on schedule.

The architect, aware of the truth, fought desperately to stop it—only to perish in the flames.

In the film, the building collapsed during an earthquake, burying countless lives.

And in reality…

Qian Qianqian waved a hand in front of Qi Zi’s face. “Are you asleep?”

Qi Zi cleared her throat. “No. Realistic films are rare—this one might do well at the box office.”

Qian Qianqian looked at her as if she’d seen a ghost. “Since when did you stop chasing profits? What kind of love potion did Lu Luozhu slip you?”

She shook Qi Zi’s shoulders.

Qi Zi: “…”

Qi Zi tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her gaze drifting to the swan parents in the distance, their cygnets huddled together on their backs, chirping softly.

Calmly, she said, “Lu Luozhu has an eye for investments.”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

She pressed her fingers to her temples.

Seriously, sis? I’m just now realizing you’ve got it bad.

Do you remember the marriage contract? You’re supposed to divorce once the kid turns four.

Isn’t it a little late to catch feelings now?

Qi Zi: “Ask Director Zhou how much funding he needs. I can contribute some.”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

Qi Zi turned the pages one by one, reading more carefully than ever before, when suddenly her phone buzzed.

A message from a pitch-black profile appeared.

Qi Zi opened the chat. A line of text appeared:

“Lu Luozhu never learned how to play cards.”

Attached was a blurry casino recording.

In the footage, the alpha clumsily drew cards, her striking eyes devoid of their usual brilliance—instead filled with restless greed. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, betraying the poor hand she held.

The next moment, all the chips on the gambling table were pushed to the opponent’s side.

“Continue, I want to keep going. I can win, I’m just having a bit of bad luck.”

The alpha’s hoarse voice came through the phone, “I’m just having a bit of bad luck.”

If not for the familiar face, Qi Zi would never have recognized the person in the video as the same Lu Luozhu standing before him now.

Qi Zi transferred a sum of money to the other party. “Keep digging.”

What on earth could have caused Lu Luozhu to become a completely different person?

Qi Zi tightened his grip around Lu Luozhu’s jacket and, under the horrified gaze of the manager, buried his face in it for a deep inhale.

Little Bamboo…

…

Meanwhile, Lu Luozhu remained blissfully unaware of his manager’s meltdown.

An Song sat beside Lu Luozhu, regarding him with the usual disdain. “The production team arranged a beach outing. Try not to drown in the sea.”

Lu Luozhu’s smile didn’t waver. “Thank you for your kind words. If anything happens to me at the beach and the production team wants to avoid responsibility, given my personality, I’d probably return as a ghost to haunt your house and the director’s every night. But if you treat me well and are considering buying property, I could always haunt someone else’s home instead.”

An Song was speechless for a long moment. “…Thanks, but I’m not planning to buy property anytime soon.”

Bai Rui, who overheard the exchange: ???

The host explaining the game rules: ?

Wait, how did the conversation veer off in this direction??

Is this really appropriate to discuss on the way??

The live chat was utterly dumbfounded.

“Shut your mouth already, tsk tsk, that’s so inauspicious.”

“Gotta admit, the stepmom’s pretty considerate—even after death, she’s still thinking about saving An An money on property.”

“She really—I’m crying. I shouldn’t have hated on Lu Luozhu; she’s such a kind-hearted stepmom.”

“Folks, I screenshotted An An’s expression and posted it on Weibo lolol what kind of rivals-to-lovers CP is this cackles.”

Little Jasmine, sitting next to Ningning, heard the commotion behind her and looked up in confusion. Her soft, chubby cheeks were being kneaded like dough in Ningning’s hands, eliciting muffled protests.

Little Jasmine: “Don’t squeeze my cheeks, ow.”

Ningning giggled. “Ow, so soft, ow.”

Bai Mianmian, squeezed to the side, looked somewhat forlorn. Noticing the quiet little girl beside her, Ningning extended her mischievous hands toward Bai Mianmian’s face.

Bai Mianmian’s round face suffered the same fate.

“Ow—ow!”

Amid the playful chaos, the bus arrived at the beach.

Lu Luozhu stepped onto the soft golden sand. Unlike the subtle chill of the north, the blazing sun hung high overhead, casting a lazy warmth over everyone.

Originally, Lu Luozhu had considered skipping this episode to stay with Qi Zi, who couldn’t be left alone. But before she could even bring it up, Qi Zi seemed to read her mind and shooed her away, insisting she should accompany Ningning for some fun.

Squinting against the sunlight, Lu Luozhu basked in the warmth when a familiar, taunting voice sounded behind her.

An Song: “Everyone’s already gathered. Stop acting like a diva and making people wait for you. This isn’t Qi Zi’s home—no one’s going to indulge you here.”

Lu Luozhu’s lips twitched, baffled by the pop star’s sudden mood swing.

They’d only exchanged a few words on the bus—why was she upset again?

In her past life, Lu Luozhu’s poor health had left her with little energy for travel. Now, with this rare chance to enjoy a beach holiday, she wasn’t about to let it slip away.

Ningning and Little Jasmine were molding sand on the beach while Bai Mianmian dug for hermit crabs in the sandpit.

The three children were covered head to toe in sand, looking like freshly unearthed artifacts.

The host gathered the show’s guests and children to announce the rules.

Lu Luozhu listened to the first half but was distracted by her phone during the second—not because she was being arrogant, but because Qi Zi had texted her.

Qi Zi: I booked a resort on the island. Room number…

Lu Luozhu hadn’t expected Qi Zi to fly all the way here. She first glanced around warily, then, like a thief, turned her phone away and typed one-handed—as if her fingers had eyes, she could send complete sentences without even looking at the screen.

Lu Luozhu: Ah, my esteemed patron gracing my humble abode—this little island is honored by your presence. I shall prepare the finest welcome. But please, this time, don’t arrive in your “Phoenix Chariot of Spring Favor.” Sneaking around is more fun when we keep it low-key.

Qi Zi, texting from the VIP lounge: .

There she goes again with the sarcasm.

“What ‘Phoenix Chariot of Spring Favor’?”

Qian Qianqian, sitting across from Qi Zi, nearly choked on her juice, spilling some on the table. She quickly wiped it up, coughing awkwardly as she stumbled through an explanation of their last trip to the small town.

Qi Zi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“All talk, twisting words, spouting nonsense just to get attention—how annoying.”

Qian Qianqian thought this would sound a lot more convincing if she weren’t currently picking out gifts while saying it.

Back on the beach—

An Song: “You’re the only one on your phone. How bold. Think just because you’ve got Qi Zi wrapped around your finger, you can act like a diva on set?”

Lu Luozhu: “…”

In the Baby Go! livestream chat:

“An Song really went for it—calling out Lu Luozhu for being on her phone is savage.”

“Finally, someone said it! I’ve disliked her for ages.”

“Idk, An Song and Lu Luozhu kinda have that bickering-couple vibe.”

“Am I the only one who thinks Lu Luozhu’s smile looks like she’s sneaking around?”

“It totally is a sneaking-around smile!”

“@QiZi, come control your trashy Alpha.”

“Honestly, Qi Zi must be blind and deaf—how could she fall for someone like Lu Luozhu? Are there no other Alphas left in the world?”

Lu Luozhu: “Say one more word, and I might actually faint into the ocean. Then Qi Zi will have to wear white, carry my portrait in the funeral procession, while you—”

An Song, with a sudden sense of foreboding, clamped a hand over Lu Luozhu’s mouth. “Enough! I’ll stop. I didn’t mean to pick a fight.”

Lu Luozhu put her phone away. She wore a vibrant red sundress, her long hair tied into two loose braids draped over her shoulders. Her perfectly proportioned features needed little embellishment, and under the bright sun, her skin looked smoother than a peeled egg.

Ningning was also wearing a red dress.

And now both their dresses were streaked with yellow sand.

Everyone was digging for shells.

The team that collected the most would get to take the speedboat to the island first and pick their rooms.

Lu Luozhu hadn’t originally planned to win, but Qi Zi’s resort was the most prominent on the island—she suspected the show would book the same hotel.

She didn’t want to be caught on camera. A little private sugar with Qi Zi was fun, but too much public attention would just breed resentment.

Her Omega patron had a spotless reputation since debut—the only thing critics could attack was her marriage to Lu Luozhu.

Lu Luozhu lowered her gaze and dug out a pale pink seashell from the sand, tossing it into her small bucket as the waves soaked the crimson hem of her skirt.

The original host had forced her way into this marriage—already a mistake. Now, as a working stiff, if Lu Luozhu continued to cause trouble for her boss, it would reflect poorly on her. After all, she was counting on Qi Zi to support her.

These past few days, her wallet had never held more than a hundred yuan. The payment she was waiting for would take some time, so until then, she had no choice but to desperately rack up goodwill points.

Before long, Lu Luozhu had dug up over a dozen seashells, all of them common varieties.

Ningning had far better luck, leaving a trail of tiny footprints in the golden, soft sand.

Clutching a small shovel, Ningning bent over, her dark, round eyes scanning the sand for hidden shells. Before long, her shovel struck something hard.

“Ow!”

“Wow, Mommy, look—it’s a shell!” Ningning exclaimed happily, brushing away the sand while glancing in Lu Luozhu’s direction. Barefoot, Lu Luozhu walked over and crouched beside her, using her own shovel to help dig.

A pale blue fan-shaped shell peeked out from the sand. Ningning gasped in awe, carefully lifting it with both hands and rinsing off the clinging sand with seawater. She raised it overhead, admiring it in the sunlight.

“So pretty!”

Ningning stole a glance at her mother, unsure if she liked the shell she had found.

If Mommy didn’t like it, would she be annoyed by Ningning’s excitement?

Lu Luozhu smiled in approval. “Our Ningning is amazing.”

Ningning’s eyes sparkled as she rubbed the shell with both hands. “I want to give this shell to Mother. She’s not well, and she’s always so busy with work. I’m afraid she’ll forget me. If she keeps this shell with her, she’ll remember Ningning.”

The child’s words were painfully sincere, making Lu Luozhu’s heart ache.

“Your mother loves you very much. She just has to support the family—and me—so she has to work a lot.”

The live chat, having heard everything, erupted:

“Wow, you really have no shame, huh?”

“So you’re fully aware you’re a freeloader?”

“She’s really something—I’m crying.”

“Am I the only one who thinks Ningning seems insecure? She was so happy about the shell but still checked her stepmom’s reaction before relaxing. Lu Luozhu definitely bullies her at home—case closed.”

As Lu Luozhu and Ningning continued digging, a small, sweet voice suddenly piped up behind them.

“Your shell is so pretty. Can you give it to me?”

Lu Luozhu’s bucket already held over thirty small shells—if nothing went wrong, she’d probably win first place.

Little Molly, her chubby finger pointing at the blue shell in Ningning’s hands, stared at its dreamy patterns with angelic, covetous eyes.

Beside Lu Luozhu, Ningning blinked in confusion.

The shell was hers—meant for her mother.

But Molly was her friend.

The two little girls stood in silence, the air between them heavy.

If she didn’t give the shell to Molly, would Ningning lose a friend?

She didn’t want to lose a friend… but she also wanted to give the shell to her mother.

Ningning didn’t know what to do. Her lips trembled, and with a loud sniffle, she burst into tears.

Lu Luozhu: “Why won’t your sister dig for you? Is it because she can’t find any?”

Little Jasmine: “…The ones my sister digs up aren’t pretty.”

An Song, who had overheard the entire exchange from nearby.

An Song’s expression twisted for a moment. Her bucket held only about twenty shells—perhaps due to bad luck, or maybe because she hadn’t dug for shells much before. Even if she turned into an excavator, she still wouldn’t have dug up as many as Lu Luozhu.

Damn it. She was beautiful, and even without effort, Qi Zi would take care of her. All the good things in the world seemed to fall into Lu Luozhu’s lap.

Lu Luozhu: “Exactly. Doesn’t that just prove your sister sucks? Bad at it but still loves to play.”

Little Jasmine probably hadn’t expected an adult to refuse to give in. As the youngest child, spoiled rotten by her family, she couldn’t handle this kind of unfairness.

With a plop, Little Jasmine sat down on the sand, startling Ningning.

“The big sister is being mean!”

“Don’t cry!” Ningning panicked, on the verge of handing over the shell in her grasp.

The livestream for Baby Go Forward skyrocketed in popularity, with countless clueless onlookers flooding into the chat.

“The kid’s crying—why isn’t the adult comforting her?”

“It’s just a shell. Just dig up another one. Why be so stingy?”

“What kind of person picks on a kid? So shameless.”

“Isn’t that Lu Luozhu? She’s got tons of scandals—terrible personality, then climbed her way up by latching onto Qi Zi for a cushy life. Heard she’s awful in private too.”

“People who hate kids shouldn’t become stepmoms.”

Lu Luozhu stepped in front of Ningning. “Not giving you a shell counts as bullying? Then if I overshadow your sister on trending topics, does that mean I’m bullying her too? Sweetheart, you don’t actually think the world revolves around you and your sister, do you? I have my own reasons for needing to win. If your sister wants to outrank me, then let’s compete fairly. Why make it seem like I’m picking on the weak and helpless?”

Little Jasmine was stunned by this speech.

She muttered to herself, “What weak and helpless?”

Lu Luozhu pointed at her. “You’re the ‘weak.’ Your sister’s the other two.”

An Song: “…”

An Song silently scooped up her little sister and walked away, unusually refraining from clapping back at Lu Luozhu.

It took a moment before Little Jasmine processed Lu Luozhu’s words—then she burst into loud sobs.

The Baby Go Forward livestream chat exploded.

“Holy sh1t, Lu Luozhu just roasted An Song into oblivion. Why isn’t An Song tearing into her?”

“Reported for personal attacks.”

“Calm down, everyone. If your kid dug up a pretty shell and some random child tried to take it, would you just stand there and watch?”

“If this were real life, I’d say be generous. But since it’s the internet, I’ll just say—Lu Luozhu, you go, girl.”

“If you can’t even protect your own kid’s things, what kind of guardian are you?”

“I wish my mom had stood up for my toys like Lu Luozhu did QAQ”

“Wait, did anyone catch this? Ningning said she wanted to give this shell to Qi Zi. So technically, Lu Luozhu is kinda… currying favor with Qi Zi?”

“I never thought I’d be getting Bamboo Couple crumbs like this.”

Ningning hugged the shell tightly, staring at Lu Luozhu with wide-eyed disbelief. Her little face was full of shock—her stepmom had just defended her.

She thought her stepmother would let her generously share the seashells with the other children.

Just like all her tutors had taught her.

But her mother was fiercely competitive.

Lu Luozhu saw the look of admiration on your face.

Thanks to Lu Luozhu’s relentless drive, she undoubtedly took first place.

Nearly forty small seashells were lined up on the beach—anyone who didn’t know better might have thought it was a market stall.

The host held the microphone up to Lu Luozhu. “Earlier, Luozhu mentioned there was a reason she absolutely had to win first place. May I ask what that reason is?”

In her desperate search for as many seashells as possible, Lu Luozhu’s dress had become thoroughly soaked. Fortunately, the red fabric wasn’t see-through, though it clung uncomfortably to her skin.

The heavy material hugged her curves tightly. Tall and shapely, at first glance, she looked like a mermaid who had just crawled out of the sea in search of her lover.

Why did she have to win first place?

Of course, it was to sneak off for an affair.

No affair meant no money, and without money, she wouldn’t be able to afford treatment after the divorce.

Lu Luozhu: “Because my Teacher Qi is watching the livestream.”

The host was suddenly force-fed a mouthful of dog food.

…

But Qi Zi wasn’t actually watching the livestream.

The plane landed, and a hotel car came to pick Qi Zi up.

Her body craved Lu Luozhu’s pheromones with an overwhelming intensity.

The omega buried her face in the jacket Lu Luozhu had left behind inside the black car.

The scent of bergamot had nearly faded. Only by pressing her face deep into the fabric lining could she catch the faintest trace of her alpha’s pheromones, offering the slightest comfort.

Her condition had worsened. Without Lu Luozhu’s pheromones, she grew restless and agitated.

This ridiculous, fake version of Lu Luozhu was nothing like the little Zhuzhu from before, yet Qi Zi couldn’t help but crave her closeness.

The physical need disgusted her rational mind.

Helpless, she could only surrender to it.

She wasn’t even sure if Lu Luozhu truly loved their child—she could only gamble on the fact that Lu Luozhu wouldn’t dare mistreat Ningning on live television.

The car boarded the ferry at the dock, and after about ten minutes, it arrived at the hotel entrance.

The hotel sprawled across an expansive property, with each suite occupying its own private courtyard, ensuring complete seclusion.

She gave Lu Luozhu’s information to the front desk—no one would stop her.

Qian Qianqian worriedly said, “The doctor prescribed suppressants for you. Take a shot first.”

Beads of sweat dotted Qi Zi’s forehead, her legs weak, her posture pitiful—only her face remained stubbornly cold.

“I’m not in heat, I just…”

Can’t bear to be apart from Lu Luozhu.

Proud as Qi Zi was, she couldn’t bring herself to say the rest.

Qi Zi waited alone in the suite until midnight, but no one came.

Her body burned hotter, her consciousness tortured in a sea of fire. The cool suppressant sat within reach, but Qi Zi hated the sensation of it coursing through her veins. It was an option, but she didn’t want to gamble on whether Lu Luozhu would come.

The fickle alpha’s change had given the omega a glimmer of hope.

As the clock struck midnight, Qi Zi’s lips curled into a mocking smile.

Of course. How could Lu Luozhu, busy filming her show, possibly come?

Tormented by her illness, Qi Zi picked up a suppressant, fitted the needle, and silently prepared to inject it into the gland on the back of her neck.

Then—

A dull thud came from the courtyard.

Her fingers stilled.

The suppressant slipped from her grip, clattering to the floor and rolling forward a few times.

What was that?

Paparazzi?

Impossible, her schedule is highly confidential. No one should be visiting.

Qi ZI draped a coat over her shoulders, picked up the inhibitor from the floor, and silently walked into the courtyard holding a golf club that had been placed in the corner as decoration.

The courtyard was empty.

Most of the hotel walls served merely as decorations—neither electrified nor embedded with glass shards.

Sensing something amiss, Qi Zi took out her phone to call security.

Suddenly, a familiar bergamot scent enveloped her from behind. A pair of arms encircled her waist, and a trail of delicate kisses brushed against the nape of her neck.

“Sorry for the delay. I can make it up to you.”

Lu Luozhu embraced the feverish omega. “Got caught on my way here, but it’s fine now. I brought you a gift.”

He placed the large blue seashell Ningning had found into Qi Zi’s palm. Inside it nestled a smaller pink one—picked by Lu Luozhu himself.

The omega’s body softened, though she protested irritably, “This isn’t an affair. Why did you climb the wall?”

Lu Luozhu chuckled. “Right, I’m not here for an affair. I’m here to steal something.”