Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 27

Ningning was playing with puzzles alone in her room.

Qian Qianqian pushed the door open. “Where’s your mom?”

She knew Qi Zi had been waiting for Lu Luozhu. Although she had reservations about Lu Luozhu, she didn’t think she would stand Qi Zi up.

Yet, by midnight, there was still no sign of her.

Left with no choice, Qian Qianqian decided to seek her out herself.

Ningning looked up blankly, holding a wooden puzzle piece she was about to put in her mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart, you can’t eat that!”

Qian Qianqian, like a doting nanny, scooped Ningning into her arms. “Tell Auntie, where’s Mommy? I need to talk to her about something very important.”

Ningning obediently let herself be held, like a kitten lifted by the scruff of its neck. “Window.”

Qian Qianqian glanced at the slightly ajar window.

Qian Qianqian: ?

Ningning: “Mommy jumped out the window.”

Qian Qianqian: This is the second floor!

Her face stiffened. “Ningning, don’t joke around like that.”

Ningning let out a little squeal and wrapped her arms around Qian Qianqian’s neck. She adored this auntie, who always brought her delicious treats.

Auntie also spoke so gently. In the days when Mommy wasn’t around, she was the one who doted on her the most, aside from her mother.

The little one in her arms then said in a tiny voice, “Mommy said there are cameras outside. She’s going to steal something and can’t be seen.”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

Ningning clung to Qian Qianqian, who didn’t put her down, worried about leaving the child alone. She pulled out her phone to message Qi Zi, only to stumble upon a trending topic on Weibo first.

—A terrible premonition instantly struck her.

The first headline that popped up when she tapped the notification was: #Lu Luozhu Suspected of Climbing Walls Late at Night#

Qian Qianqian: ?

She clicked on the topic, and a glaringly obvious photo filled her screen. Lu Luozhu was sprawled on a familiar-looking low wall, all four limbs in use. The two-meter-high wall wasn’t hard to climb—one foot braced on a protruding rock, the other on a railing partition, her fingers gripping like a seasoned rock climber. But what the hell was she doing in the middle of the night?!

Are you seriously stealing something?!

And from Qi Zi’s guest room, no less?!

The manager let out a shrill scream.

The comments section was flooded with question marks.

“No way, no way, there’s no way Lu Luozhu would climb a wall to steal something, right?”

“What’s the difference between posting this blurry photo and spreading rumors? As far as I know, Lu Luozhu should be filming a show right now. Who has time to climb walls for fun?”

“Someone who’s stayed at this hotel before quietly says the wall design looks exactly like the one at Lu Luozhu’s hotel.”

“Kinda curious—who is she sneaking out to see behind the crew’s back?”

“Lu Luozhu: Who says life doesn’t have enough spectators?”

…

In the guest room, Qi Zi’s fingers were interlaced with Lu Luozhu’s. Qi Zi sat on the bed while Lu Luozhu stood over her.

Qi Zi was a head shorter, leaving her in a passive position.

The omega’s scent gland at the nape of her neck was roughly brushed by Lu Luozhu’s thumb, making her tremble in fear.

Her eyes were wet and red, too ashamed to meet Lu Luozhu’s gaze.

“That’s enough.”

“Madam, please bear with it a little longer.”

“Who are you calling ‘madam’? You’re the madam here…”

Lu Luozhu was utterly delighted by Qi Zi’s current state—clearly bullied to the brink. Though her words were full of refusal, every inch of her body language screamed for more.

How amusing. Absolutely fascinating.

Lu Luozhu knew she shouldn’t be teasing her patron like this, but the patron herself didn’t seem to mind, did she?

The next moment, Lu Luozhu pressed forward with a kiss so lingering it bordered on sinful.

Qi Zi’s dark hair fanned out across the white sheets like seaweed tangling around a diver in the deep sea, or the writhing tentacles of an octopus trapping a mermaid in an underwater cave…

Her pale pink lips, kissed and sucked, turned into a tempting shade of crimson.

“Lu Luozhu, enough. Get out.”

“Are you sure you want me to leave, Madam?”

Qi Zi struggled, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, fingers devoid of any strength to resist. The symptoms of her disrupted pheromones left her weak and feverish, her body instinctively seeking Lu Luozhu’s warmth.

An alpha’s pheromones could offer her immense comfort.

As long as she stayed by the alpha’s side, all danger would pass. She was the only safe harbor for this little boat.

Yet she was so cruel, so excessive—hardly a suitable match.

Emotions drowned reason before she could stop them.

The alpha’s marking was clumsy, biting and gnawing for a long while before finally breaking the surface of her scent gland.

“How strange,” Lu Luozhu chuckled. “I marked you just recently, yet your gland is already swollen again. Other omegas are made of water, but our Madam seems to be made of glandular fluid.”

“Lu Luozhu!”

Qi Zi’s face burned as she snapped, “Shut up.”

Lu Luozhu obediently sealed her lips and got back to work.

The quiet luxury suite was thick with fragrance—bergamot laced with a hint of citrus, crisp and refreshing.

Like a scoop of sweet ice cream.

Once the temporary mark was complete, Lu Luozhu wiped Qi Zi’s gland with a disinfectant wipe.

Pitifully deflated.

Clearly just bullied.

The surrounding skin was red and swollen.

A thin sheen of sweat coated Lu Luozhu from the marking. She shrugged off her jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Though the original owner of this body had poor character, she’d kept in shape—her arms and waist toned with lean muscle.

Qi Zi shrank back in fear. “W-what are you doing?”

Lying flat on the bed, her pupils trembled. Those ever-calculating, distant eyes were now completely panicked.

“Don’t come closer. I can pay you, Lu Luozhu.”

Qi Zi had no idea how wrecked she looked.

Lu Luozhu ignored her and walked to the minibar to pour a glass of ice water.

“What?”

The clink of ice cubes echoed in the glass. Qi Zi curled up alone on the bed, fumbling to slap a scent gland patch onto the back of her neck.

“Nothing.”

Lu Luozhu had no intention of pushing further.

After finishing the water and cooling down, she slipped her jacket back on.

“Why do you have my jacket?” Lu Luozhu bent to pick it up from where it had fallen near Qi Zi. “Did you really carry it halfway across the country for me?”

Qi Zi stayed silent for a beat. “…Yes.”

Lu Luozhu blinked. “Thanks.”

Qi Zi: “You’re welcome.”

She buried her face in a curtain of hair, not daring to meet Lu Luozhu’s gaze.

She was terrified Lu Luozhu would notice—the alpha’s pheromones on the jacket had completely faded, replaced by the sweet scent of pear blossoms.

Previously, she could endure the loneliness alone in the sanatorium, maintaining her sanity through constant injections of medication, never expecting Lu Luozhu to mark her. But once she tasted sweetness, Qi Zi completely succumbed.

—There was no longer any possibility of breaking free with reason.

Lu Luozhu picked up her clothes and sniffed them. “So fragrant.” Did you use laundry detergent with the same scent as your pheromones?

Qi Zi quickly said, “Alright, you should leave now.”

She didn’t want to hear what came next.

Lu Luozhu found it amusing—Qi Zi was tossing her aside after use, showing no trace of sentimentality.

A notification chimed on her phone: 200,000 yuan had been transferred.

Lu Luozhu’s eyelid twitched in surprise. She had assumed Qi Zi’s constant dismissals today meant dissatisfaction, but she hadn’t expected such generosity.

“Wait.”

Lu Luozhu picked up her phone, opened the camera, and grabbed Qi Zi’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Their diamond rings shimmered side by side, next to overlapping blue and pink seashells.

“Let’s take a photo. I’ll post it on Weibo—just some casual content. Is that okay?”

The moment their palms touched, Qi Zi’s body trembled involuntarily.

“Fine. You’re allowed to ride on my clout.”

Today, she had held hands… and even been kissed.

No brands were willing to work with Lu Luozhu—her reputation was mixed. Qi Zi hadn’t given her any commercial resources either. Aside from being a food blogger, there seemed to be no other way to monetize.

Lu Luozhu thought she might take on some kitchenware ads in the future.

Times were tough.

Even a caged bird needed to eat.

@LuLuozhu: First night away from my sister. Missing her.

“…Sis, do you seriously not check trending topics at all?”

“Alright, alright, you’re sneaking around to meet my wife? Reported. You’re welcome (dog emoji).”

“I didn’t believe it before, but now I do. Bamboo CP is fun to ship, but that doesn’t stop me from cursing you out.”

“Pretty sure I wasn’t watching a dating show?”

“What’s your relationship? Calling her ‘wife’ already?”

“Replying to above: Just a pure, innocent sugar baby arrangement (cat nibbling paw emoji).”

“I spotted a detail! The seashell in the corner is one my baby dug up!”

“I won’t believe it’s true love unless you let me hide under the bed and listen.”

Lu Luozhu was oblivious to the Weibo storm. Just before she left, Qi Zi suddenly called her back.

Lu Luozhu: “Hmm? Is Your Majesty graciously allowing me to stay the night in the royal chambers?”

Qi Zi: “…”

Sometimes, Qi Zi really wanted to poison Lu Luozhu into silence.

Her fingers splayed against the pillow like a cat’s paws. “I’ve read Zhou Fan’s script. I might consider letting you act in it for free.”

The script on the coffee table bore obvious signs of being flipped through—the creases suggested Qi Zi had read it more than once.

Qi Zi: “I have a question.”

Lu Luozhu: “What?”

Qi Zi: “Why did you want me to act in it?”

She had looked into Zhou Fan. At the time of the incident, Zhou Fan had been very young. Back then, the now-famous director wasn’t a director at all—he had been one of the cameramen covering the event for a TV station.

Only later did he switch careers to become a director.

No wonder he knew so many details.

Qi Zi had seen Zhou Fan’s past films and the widely circulated blog photos from that time. One photo of a burning fire had even won an award—through the screen, you could feel the scorching heat and the desperate cries of those trapped inside.

Had she remembered something?

Lu Luozhu: “Because I can’t afford anyone else.”

Lu Luozhu shyly scratched her head, “You know I’m just a kept canary living off you. Besides Qi Xin, I can’t afford to hire anyone else.”

“I’ll pay your acting fee in another way. My heart isn’t in great condition, but I have a young body. If you don’t mind, I can pay you in sixty installments… with my body.”

Qi Zi’s nervous yet expectant expression vanished.

Qi Zi’s face became expressionless.

Qi Zi told her to get lost again.

After their secret rendezvous, Lu Luozhu walked along the path back to the guest room, the lingering scent of peach blossom pheromones from Qi Zi still in her mouth.

The island night was tranquil, with only the distant sound of waves crashing against rocks.

What peaceful times indeed.

In these peaceful times, Lu Luozhu climbed over the wall to return to her room.

Only to meet Qian Qianqian’s speechless gaze and a room full of cameramen.

Lu Luozhu standing on the windowsill: ?

She turned around, ready to jump back down.

Wrong room?

Qian Qianqian closed her eyes in despair—how could someone make their affair known to the entire world?

…

On the beach, around the bonfire barbecue, An Song and Bai Rui caught sight of a furtive figure climbing to the second floor.

Right into Lu Luozhu’s room.

Little Jasmine, who hadn’t received Ningning’s seashell, was feeling down. Gradually, she grew sleepy under her sister’s soothing and curled up with Bai Mianmian.

Marshmallows roasting over the fire developed a golden crispy shell, their sweet aroma filling the air.

The cameramen filming An Song and Bai Rui turned their lenses toward where the two were looking.

An Song: “A thief? Your production team’s security is terrible.”

She immediately stood up, “I should check it out.”

With that, she grabbed a wooden stick meant for the fire and prepared to charge forward.

Bai Rui quickly pulled her back, “If it’s some vicious criminal, you should be careful not to get hurt.”

An Song: “But Lu Luozhu is in there.”

Bai Rui: “The production team has security. Calm down first.”

Bai Rui, being the oldest among them, had a soothing, broadcaster-like voice that could quickly calm people down.

An Song uncomfortably tossed the stick into the fire and snarked, “Lu Luozhu’s fragile body isn’t much better than a child’s. Forget encountering some vicious criminal—even if she ran into an obsessive fan, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Who knows, she might have already lost her innocence by now.”

The live chat was flooded with “LOLs.”

“LMAO, Lu Luozhu’s innocence was already gone tonight.”

“How can someone embarrass themselves so thoroughly?!”

“For those who missed it: Lu Luozhu was caught climbing the wall to Qi Zi’s room. The director trolled her by sending cameramen to wait in her room, capturing her climbing back through the window. And now, from An Song’s perspective, we see her scaling the wall again.”

“Lu Luozhu, you really make me cry—was this affair absolutely necessary?”

“Lu Luozhu and Qi Zi are legally married with a kid. Can’t you two just be open about it?”

“New fan here, I’m dying of sweetness.”

“Qi Zi’s biggest life regret: marrying Lu Luozhu.”

Unaware of the live chat’s frenzy, Lu Luozhu gracefully climbed into the room. Since she’d been caught, there was no point running now.

“Quite the lively night, huh? If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d successfully drowned myself tonight, and you’re all here to tour my former residence. Should I pose for a nice commemorative portrait while I’m at it?”

The host who came running at the scent of gossip: “…”

Such a beautiful person, if only they didn’t have a mouth.

Lu Luozhu casually draped her jacket over the chair back, her expression carrying the satisfaction of someone who’d just marked an omega.

“What are you still standing here for? Why not broadcast me sleeping too? I might as well report the streamer for passive broadcasting while I’m at it.”

The host laughed awkwardly, “Luozhu, you’re joking again.”

Lu Luozhu smiled, “Is it funny?”

The host’s laughter grew more strained, “I heard your partner is also on the island?”

Qi Zi had allowed her to post on Weibo, tacitly approving the exposure of their current whereabouts. But Lu Luozhu had no intention of letting everyone’s attention focus on Qi Zi who was recuperating.

When you’re paid, you don’t cause trouble for your employer.

Lu Luozhu maintained her smile: “Can’t be helped, I’m too clingy. Without my award-winning actress wife, I can’t sleep all night. If I don’t see her tonight, I’ll probably end up crying myself to sleep while holding our child.”

Ningning obligingly let out a little “mama” sound, rubbing against Lu Luozhu’s embrace as if smelling her mother’s distinctive scent, yawning sleepily and wiping her teary eyes with tiny hands.

Host: “…” Absolute nonsense, she’s completely mad.

Host: “Then we won’t disturb Luozhu and Ningning’s sleep, good night!”

After the host and cameraman left, Qian Qianqian left the room looking like she was sleepwalking, her departing gaze full of resentment.

As Lu Luozhu prepared to shower, draping a towel over her shoulder, she said, “I just saved you money on buying a trending topic. Aren’t you going to thank me? If you don’t want to say thanks, you can just give me cash instead.”

Qian Qianqian said with mixed feelings: “Thanks. If I had your confidence, I’d succeed at anything.”

If this were any other celebrity, they’d be spouting nonsense by now. Handled well, it could be CP fanservice that gains followers. Handled poorly, it would be hard to explain, and some artists might even lose their temper, ruining their public image.

In the entire entertainment industry, no one could match Lu Luozhu’s ability to shut people down with just her words—and somehow gain fans in the process.

Even her manager was confused—what exactly were these fans seeing in her?

The next morning during recording:

An Song said meaningfully: “Who would have thought someone so physically frail could be so agile.”

Lu Luozhu: “If I said I can’t handle strenuous exercise, would you believe me?”

In her past life, Lu Luozhu had nearly given up all activities that would raise her heart rate. Brewing tea and arranging flowers were about the extent of what she could manage.

Now her mission was simply to enjoy life.

And make some money, so she could live comfortably after Qi Zi eventually asked for a divorce.

Lu Luozhu stretched on the beach, basking in the bright sunlight. She wore a form-fitting swimsuit—not a bikini, but the conservative type elementary students wear for swimming lessons, with a sheer scarf tied around her waist that fluttered in the breeze.

Though she didn’t want to draw attention, her excellent figure made her photogenic no matter the angle.

An Song and Bai Rui wore much bolder styles than Lu Luozhu, yet perhaps because her modest swimsuit clung so closely to her form, it accentuated her already excellent figure, creating a restrained, almost ascetic beauty.

The host announced the rules: “Welcome, everyone, to the beach. Fifty meters out, there are three floating balls. The first guest to retrieve one will win the right to choose seafood. Of course, the little ones can’t just sit around—they’ll need to help the staff set up the tables and chairs for the seafood barbecue.”

The host’s voice scattered in the sea breeze. Lu Luozhu stared expressionlessly at the distant floating balls.

She had no desire to move, but she knew Qi Zi was watching from the sidelines.

Her secret lover stood behind the cameras.

Waiting to feast on her seafood.

The selection in the cart was vast—from king crabs to sea urchins, everything was available.

The winner could take whatever they wanted.

Lu Luozhu glanced back toward the cameras.

Qi Zi lounged on a deck chair, one hand holding a coconut, the other adjusting sunglasses perched on her nose.

The sun gleamed on her radiantly pale legs, coated in shimmering sunscreen. She wore beach shorts, her long, straight legs glistening under the light.

Noticing Lu Luozhu’s gaze, Qi Zi lifted her sunglasses with an air of haughty indifference, silently asking:

“What do you want?”

Last night, Qi Zi hadn’t immediately agreed to star in the film for free. She could back out at any moment.

Pleasing a client was hard; pleasing Qi Zi as a client was even harder.

The canary sighed in resignation.

The canary had no choice but to dive in.

Warm seawater lapped at her ankles as Lu Luozhu stepped in. She could swim, but she wasn’t experienced.

The good news was, neither were the other two contestants.

The shallows were only five feet deep—safe for any adult. Lifeguards stood by, ready to intervene if needed.

It had been years since Lu Luozhu last swam. If not for the show, she’d never willingly subject herself to this. Her smartwatch showed a steady heart rate. She exhaled slowly, then glanced back at Qi Zi.

Qi Zi sipped her coconut water leisurely, her gaze deliberately avoiding Lu Luozhu.

Still annoyed at her for spouting nonsense on camera.

An Song scoffed. “You’re not scared of water, are you? Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Lu Luozhu replied, “Sorry, but I have to win.”

An Song gritted her teeth. “Ningning is doomed with a stepmother as competitive as you.”

Ignoring her, Lu Luozhu waded in until the water reached her waist, then plunged forward. Her strokes were decent—basic breaststroke.

In an unseen corner, Qi Zi pushed her sunglasses up and raised a pair of binoculars for a better look.

Ningning struggled to carry a small chair, huffing and puffing as she helped Xiao Moli set up the barbecue.

Perhaps there was some athleticism in Lu Luozhu’s genes. She stretched her arms, palms pushing against the current.

Swimming in the ocean was nothing like a pool—waves fought back relentlessly.

White foam surged as strings of pearl-like bubbles escaped Lu Luozhu’s lips.

Knees bent, legs kicking rhythmically, she recalled her old swimming instructor’s lessons.

Her lungs burned as she surfaced for air mid-stroke, then dove back under.

Her heartbeat grew increasingly rapid. Lu Luozhu suppressed her inner worries—she had already crossed over to this world. Though her heart had some minor issues, it was generally healthy and wouldn’t deliver a sudden, devastating blow like in her previous life.

As her kicking movements accelerated, her body shot forward like an arrow released from its bow toward the floating sphere.

Her fingers touched the rubber ball. Lu Luozhu untied the rope attached to it and fastened it around her waist.

Seeing An Song about to catch up, Lu Luozhu didn’t hesitate and immediately plunged into the water.

With every breath she took, she seized the moment to glance at Qi Zi from afar.

Perhaps it was the oxygen deprivation from swimming, but Lu Luozhu felt a strange, euphoric sensation.

She had the feeling Qi Zi was watching her.

The same Qi Zi who claimed to dislike her, yet had moved a lounge chair to the beach early the next morning, waiting for the show to start.

Teacher Qi, whose words didn’t match her heart.

……

On the shore.

Qi Zi was indeed watching Lu Luozhu.

She tossed aside a coconut, arms wrapped around the clothes Lu Luozhu would need to change into later. Whether it was just her imagination or not, ever since Lu Luozhu had marked her yesterday, her whole body had felt warm and cozy, as if soaking in hot water.

An alpha’s pheromones gave an omega a sense of belonging.

So warm, so sweet—she wanted to bite her clothes.

Qian Qianqian noticed Qi Zi’s behavior and handed her a cup of pineapple juice. “Feeling unwell?”

Qi Zi frowned in confusion. “Why is Lu Luozhu swimming so fast? Is there a shark chasing her?”