Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 29

Lu Luozhu received a message that startled her into standing up abruptly.

The hotel attendant feeding her fruit by her side was also frightened, causing the pineapple on the fruit fork to fall onto the sand.

Lu Luozhu reacted like a rabbit whose tail had been stepped on. “Ahem, you’re dismissed now. You may leave,” she said, stuffing a wad of red bills into the attendant’s pocket.

The hotel attendant looked surprised at first, then flashed a perfectly practiced smile. “Very well. Wishing you a pleasant holiday.”

Only after watching the attendant walk away did Lu Luozhu nervously pat her chest to calm herself.

Clutching her phone tightly with both hands, her shoulders slightly raised from the tension, she typed: “My relationship with the hotel attendant is purely transactional, Madam Sister. Please don’t misunderstand.”

Qi Zi didn’t bother correcting the odd address of “Madam Sister,” replying instead: “I was just teasing you. Was there really an attendant with you?”

Lu Luozhu: “…”

Boss, stop messing with me.

Two seconds later, a photo arrived. Taken from a distance, it was somewhat blurry but still clearly showed an alpha lounging lazily on a deck chair while a uniformed beta in white gloves fed her bright red cherries with a silver fork.

All the alpha had to do was open her mouth to receive the treat.

The scene exuded luxury and indolence.

Lu Luozhu’s typed defense remained unsent in the message box.

Qian Qianqian looked up at Lu Luozhu’s flustered appearance, beads of sweat forming on her forehead, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Madam, you should sit down and rest before you give yourself a heart attack.”

Lu Luozhu: “.”

Known for her sharp tongue, Lu Luozhu found herself speechless for the first time.

As the alpha anxiously tried to explain, another message slowly appeared:

Qi Zi: You still haven’t answered my question.

Qi Zi: Was the hotel attendant good-looking?

Lu Luozhu couldn’t recall the attendant’s face, only remembering the white gloves and how well-chosen the fruits were. There was no trace of omega or alpha pheromones—just a reassuringly neutral scent.

Lu Luozhu: Didn’t get a good look at the face, but of course they couldn’t compare to you.

The other side seemed stunned by this bootlicking response, showing “typing…” for quite a while before replying:

Qi Zi: Such smooth talk, Lu Luozhu. You’ll never learn the meaning of “behaving properly.”

Not far away, the variety show continued filming live. Lu Luozhu leaned back on the shaded deck chair, soothing her startled heart.

She’d managed to brush it off.

It was rare for her to indulge in such decadent pleasures, and the one time she did, Qi Zi had to find out.

What rotten luck.

With a sigh, Lu Luozhu took out her tablet and opened her email. The first message in her inbox was from the owner of Li Ji Bakery.

After skimming through the routine production line reports, she noted the owner’s suggestion about engaging in some philanthropic activities.

Qi Zi had signed a one-year endorsement deal with Li Ji Bakery for their signature cheesecake, which had sold out across all stores. They were now testing a new product—thumb-sized sea salt cheese puffs designed to be eaten in one bite without mess, their rich cheese flavor balanced by a hint of sea salt to prevent cloying, making them ideal office snacks.

The plan was to promote their flagship product while doing some charity work.

Perfect, another opportunity to make some money.

Lu Luozhu worked with focused brows, and Qian Qianqian could feel the alpha beside her quickly calming down. The sound of fingers tapping on a portable keyboard filled the air with a steady rhythm. At some point, a straw hat had been placed on her head, her long hair fluttering in the sea breeze. The alpha, who used to only poke at the keyboard with one finger, could now type effortlessly without looking.

Is this really the same person as before?

Suppressing her doubts, Qian Qianqian raised her phone to capture the moment and casually posted it on Weibo.

@LuLuozhu: Enjoying some rare quality time with the little one [Image]

“????? Is it possible that while everyone else is filming the show, you’re the only one slacking off???”

“Too sick to work, but well enough to slack off?”

“Lu Luozhu, you never disappoint—flaunting your privilege so blatantly.”

“I was about to flame you on Tieba, but seeing how brazenly you posted this, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Our An’an choked on so much seawater she’s practically growing gills, yet you’re here playing on a tablet???”

“…Must be nice having connections. Is this the confidence of a freeloading alpha?”

“@QiZi, can you rein in your wife? I’m starting to develop a weird affection from all the hate.”

“Quality time? Where’s your kid? Don’t think a pretty photo will stop me from roasting you (dog head).”

Qian Qianqian logged into Lu Luozhu’s Weibo and quietly edited the caption to “Enjoying some rare island time.”

She’d posted in a hurry, forgetting to change the copied text.

Lu Luozhu found herself inexplicably bombarded by hate from antis, but she was too busy with work to care about the online vitriol.

Boss Li called. “President Lu, Li Ji Pastries has long supplied orphanages at cost price. If we want to expand our charity efforts, orphanages could be a good starting point.”

Lu Luozhu leaned back in her chair, the blue sky obscured by coconut leaves. Among the coconuts, a coconut crab tapped its massive claws, searching for the perfect one to drag away.

“Orphanages?” Lu Luozhu echoed.

Boss Li explained, “My late mother dedicated her life to charity, doing her best to improve conditions for orphaned children. But with so many orphanages in the province, each only received a few boxes of old-fashioned cakes. Some staff hoarded them instead of distributing them, leaving the kids to go hungry…”

Realizing he’d gone off-topic, Boss Li apologized. “Sorry, President Lu. The company’s plan is—”

Lu Luozhu blinked her dry eyes. So, Qi Zi used to eat those old-fashioned cakes?

She had to fight other kids just to get a cheap slice.

How pitiful.

The proud, swan-like Teacher Qi—how tragic.

She’d love to see her cry over missing out on cake.

It’d be adorable.

Suppressing her mischievous thoughts, Lu Luozhu said, “Mm, orphanage management is stricter now. Those things probably won’t happen anymore. Go ahead with the plan—I’ll arrange for extra trending tags when the time comes.”

At the mention of “trending tags,” Qian Qianqian’s head snapped up!

Lu Luozhu hung up. Ningning approached, clutching a hermit crab that waved its tiny claws in terror, its beady eyes wide with fear.

Qian Qianqian’s eyes mirrored the same terror.

Qian Qianqian: “Forget about trending searches. You don’t have fans, only haters. Buying a trending spot would be no different from sending you to get roasted. If you enjoy being insulted, I can arrange that for you right now.”

Lu Luozhu: “.”

“Not for me. Never mind, we’ll decide after the proposal is finalized.”

While Qian Qianqian was still making a fuss, Lu Luozhu leisurely lifted the baby from the recliner with one hand and kissed her soft little cheek.

With a gentle smile, Lu Luozhu said, “My dear agent, do you have some misunderstanding about me? The people who can call me by my name directly can be counted on one hand. Do you know what people call me outside?”

When meeting her, this investor, people treated her like a savior—who wouldn’t address her respectfully as “President Lu”?

Qian Qianqian deadpanned: “People call you ‘that sugar baby Alpha.'”

Lu Luozhu: “.”

Ningning placed a hermit crab on her mother’s head. “What does ‘sugar baby’ mean?”

Lu Luozhu: “…It means my stomach is weak, so I can only eat soft food.”

“Oh, could you help me ask for leave?”

…

In the hotel room that evening.

The director was shocked. “What? Lu Luozhu can’t film for the next two days?!”

The director had long heard of Lu Luozhu’s reputation—she wasn’t one to follow arrangements. But openly asking for leave was a first.

Even if she didn’t like children, didn’t she care about her reputation at all?

Qian Qianqian maintained a polite smile. “I understand your concern, but you should also know who the biggest investor of this show is.”

The director immediately calmed down.

Yes, indeed. The biggest investor of Baby Go! was Qi Zi’s studio.

And Lu Luozhu was Qi Zi’s legal wife.

The director sat in the chair, wiping sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief. “You still need to give me a proper excuse. Is it for a commercial shoot? Or a drama?”

Qian Qianqian appeared calm and rational, though internally she was already lamenting her fate.

“Neither.”

The director was baffled.

Was she going on vacation??

If only she had Lu Luozhu’s laid-back attitude, she could succeed at anything.

Qian Qianqian: “There’s an auction on the island. Madam has to attend.”

The director’s expression blanked for a moment, sensing a potential ratings boost. “Leave is fine, and the script can be adjusted. But on one condition—a cameraman must follow Lu Luozhu to the auction.”

After a brief hesitation, Qian Qianqian agreed. “Fine.”

Director: Joins a parenting show, then takes leave to bid on treasures.

Is this the simple, unadorned life of the rich?

I want to be a sugar baby too.

…

Inside the black sedan.

The Omega pressed her forehead against the steering wheel. The dark car was illuminated only by the faint glow of the dashboard and her phone.

The gland abnormality didn’t just bring sudden heats—it also gradually weakened Qi Zi’s constitution.

Daily dizziness, headaches, heart palpitations, and low-grade fevers had become routine.

Like now. The Omega’s fist struck the steering wheel, and the black sedan let out a loud honk, startling distant birds.

Damn this body.

The headlights cut through the darkness like swords. Qi Zi slumped weakly over the steering wheel, exhaling scorching breaths.

She had already taken her medication, but it would take at least half an hour to take effect.

For those thirty minutes, Qi Zi could only endure the discomfort, waiting for the drugs to balance her hormones.

Overwhelmed by extreme physical discomfort, the omega slowly closed her eyes. The exhaustion of both body and mind quickly plunged her into a dark dreamscape.

In her half-conscious state, the cold wind around her grew stronger, rustling her thin clothes.

“Little Bamboo, I’m not hungry. Don’t give me your food.”

Behind the orphanage’s back door lay a patch of wasteland with disorderly trees and a murky pond.

A dust-streaked little girl shoved half a cake into her hands. “You eat it. I don’t even like this kind of stuff.”

The older sister, two years her senior, broke the cake in half—stashing one portion in her pocket while nibbling carefully on the other.

“When I grow up, I’ll make lots of money. We’ll never eat cheap food off the ground again. Not me, not you.”

Kneeling in the dirt, the younger girl’s arms bore bruises in shades of blue and purple. She muttered, “We’ll have the best life. No one will ever take food from us—from either of us.”

“Sis, a rich family wants to adopt me! Isn’t that great? I’m going to live well. I’ll become rich for sure.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up, sis?”

“Me?” The girl savoring her quarter-cake murmured, “Whatever pays the most. They say actors earn heaps—enough to never go hungry.”

Silence stretched as she soothed her aching, empty stomach beneath the tangled branches. Finally, she added, “The doctor says I’ll develop into a disabled omega—can’t produce proper pheromones or bear children. That’s why no one wants me.”

“Your health records are hidden by the matron. Don’t rush into adoption. I’m… worried.”

Physical agony clung like maggots to bone as fragmented memories surged. The omega’s body alternated between feverish heat and chills, curling into a tight ball.

“Mmm… Little Bamboo…”

It hurts.

So much.

……

After lulling the baby to sleep, Lu Luozhu took an evening stroll outside the hotel.

Ningning had begged to find new shells for hermit crabs before bedtime. As the child’s stepmother-by-contract, Luozhu felt obligated to indulge her little benefactor, plastic bag in hand toward the shore.

Still peckish from dinner, she spotted Li’s Bakery cakes at a convenience store—their rich butter and egg aroma perfect for a snack.

In the distance, a lone car parked by the coastal road caught her eye.

Unnoticed behind her, a camera’s red light blinked. Nor did she see the lens capturing establishing shots from a second-floor balcony. Two steps forward, and she recognized the license plate.

In the Baby Go Forward livestream:

“OMG! Lu Luozhu meeting someone secretly at night!”

“Sneaky = definitely scheming.”

“Cameraman MVP! No sign of her all day—couldn’t even rage-comment.”

“Do something scandalous, Luozhu! I’m developing hate-following syndrome (nom nom kitty paws).”

“Y’all fans or antis?? (leans back suspiciously)”

Luozhu circled to the driver’s side, knocking on the window. No response.

She knocked again.

Through the car window, Lu Luozhu caught a whiff of sweet pear blossom fragrance in the air, mingling with the scent of pastries in her hand, like freshly baked cupcakes.

“Qi Zi, open the door.”

The car window remained motionless. Lu Luozhu tentatively placed her hand on the door handle.

The car wasn’t locked?

As Lu Luozhu opened the door, a wave of omega pheromones washed over her face.

Qi Zi lay weakly across the dashboard, her breathing scorching hot, her face flushed with an unnatural redness. She was draped in a jacket Lu Luozhu had worn before, her eyelashes, like tiny fans, clumped together with tears.

So pitiful.

Like a little white fox fallen into water.

Her sugar daddy was truly endearing.

Lu Luozhu circled to the passenger side, opened the door, and pulled the feverish, barely conscious Qi Zi into her arms. “Wake up, I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Catching the familiar scent, Qi Zi opened her eyes from her daze, looking confusedly at the familiar face before pinching Lu Luozhu’s cheek.

While others pinch their own cheeks to wake up, Qi Zi pinches others’.

Lu Luozhu: “…You’re running a low fever.”

Qi Zi shook her head. “I don’t like hospitals.”

Lu Luozhu murmured, “The production team has a doctor. I’ll call them over.”

Qi Zi’s gaze fixed on Lu Luozhu, her focus flickering in and out, looking rather unintelligent.

Suddenly, Lu Luozhu felt a hand press against the back of her head as lips met hers, a soft, warm tongue slipping into her mouth.

Parting her lips, invading her territory.

“Your mouth has pheromones. I need your pheromones.”

The car door closed.

Lu Luozhu was pressed against the window.

In the ABO universe, pheromones cure all ills.

The black car’s horn honked loudly.

Crumbs of old-fashioned cake fell onto their clothes. The disoriented omega bent down, burying her head in Lu Luozhu’s lap, her lips picking up a crumb.

“You’re my remedy. I don’t need a doctor. I only need you.”

A crimson tongue wrapped around the familiar taste of childhood.

She wanted another bite.

Lu Luozhu’s rationality cracked as her fingers pressed against Qi Zi’s neck, forcing her to look up.

“Didn’t you want pheromones, Mrs.? Why are you eating cake instead?”

The sensation of being gripped by the neck was unpleasant. Qi Zi wanted to break free, but her body had already adapted to being restrained.

An instinctive kiss lingered exceptionally long.

…

“Baby Go Forward” livestream:

“Ahhhh! What are they doing? Why haven’t they come out of the car in half an hour?”

“I told you gold-digger alphas are no good. With such a wonderful wife, she still sneaks around. What terrible character.”

“I dug through Lu Luozhu’s old Weibo posts. This car has appeared in her photos more than once.”

“The owner seems to be… my wife?”

“Good news: Bamboo CP is serving sugar. Bad news: Bamboo CP’s bent waist has finally snapped.”

“I mean, you’re legally married. Why are you acting like you’re having an affair?”

“Ahhhh, everyone! The car door opened!! It’s Qi Zi! My wife is being carried princess-style by Lu Luozhu! Let go of my wife—I’ll do it!”

“Lu Luozhu, are you worthy? Are you worthy of carrying my wife?”

In the guest room, Qian Qianqian hadn’t slept all night, while Ningning beside her slept soundly, bubbles forming at her nose.

She had finished drafting her thirty-sixth resignation letter.

Perhaps she wouldn’t be a manager anymore. She could switch careers to being a live-in nanny—there wasn’t much difference anyway.

…

The next morning, the canary had entered the master’s chamber and shared the same bed with her patron.

Qi Zi stared blankly at the old-fashioned cake packaging placed on the nightstand, the faint sweetness of the cake lingering in the air.

A cheap, worthless cake—something no one would even bother to pick up if it were left on the ground.

Ever since leaving the orphanage, the mere sight of such cakes made Qi Zi nauseous. Their existence was a constant reminder of the time she had been looked down upon.

And now, it had been placed in the most expensive hotel suite.

Qi Zi averted her gaze and kicked Lu Luozhu off the bed with one foot.

Still half-asleep, Lu Luozhu landed heavily on the carpet. It didn’t hurt, but her mind was a little dazed.

A foot pressed down on Lu Luozhu’s shoulder as the alpha rubbed her messy hair in a disheveled manner.

“Morning?”

Qi Zi increased the pressure from above, looking down at her. “I only allowed you to mark me last night. What were you doing with all that kissing?”

Upon closer inspection, the corner of Qi Zi’s lips had been bitten and broken.

Lu Luozhu vaguely recalled the details of the previous night, while the pressure on her shoulder intensified—

A flawless foot rested on her shoulder. Sitting on the carpet, Lu Luozhu looked up to see Qi Zi loosely draped in a shirt, the pristine hotel blanket covering her legs.

With every slight movement, glimpses of something could be seen, but Qi Zi only pressed down harder, forcing Lu Luozhu to lower her head obediently.

Patrons were truly hard to please.

An ordinary person definitely couldn’t handle the job of a canary.

“My apologies for my boldness, Madam. Let me make it up to you.”

Lu Luozhu lifted the foot resting on her shoulder, cradling Qi Zi’s sole in both hands before solemnly pressing a light, ceremonial kiss to the top of her foot.

Though there was nothing overtly disrespectful about the gesture, it was, in fact, the greatest offense of all.

“Still angry, Madam?” Lu Luozhu continued holding her foot. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have had the audacity to board your imperial carriage, nor should I have taken the liberty of sitting in your passenger seat. And I certainly shouldn’t have lured you into the room. For a scoundrel like me to taint your jade-like purity is simply unforgivable. How about this—after filming wraps up, I’ll go kneel in a temple for forty-nine days, then turn myself in at the police station to seek leniency?”

Qi Zi: “…”

She pulled her foot back, her expressionless face flushing with anger.

If she were truly a little fox, she would have scratched her by now.

“Shut your mouth,” Qi Zi snapped.

She had never realized before just how venomous Lu Luozhu’s words could be.

She really wanted to rip out her tongue.

The auction was set for the evening. During the day, Lu Luozhu took a stroll along the beach and participated in the variety show’s arranged games.

Perhaps because all the guests had seen last night’s livestream, the looks they gave Lu Luozhu were incredibly complicated.

Lu Luozhu simply smiled and participated in the games without aiming for first place.

The director had initially worried that Lu Luozhu might skip filming these past few days, but to his surprise, she showed up, gradually winning back favor with fans.

By evening, Lu Luozhu had received the auction invitation sent by Madam Liang and entered the hotel’s restricted area with Qi Zi.

The island was sizable, and the hotel occupied a vast space—the production team had only rented a small portion of it.

Luxury cars streamed endlessly at the hotel entrance. Lu Luozhu spotted a few figures frequently featured in financial magazines, though most high-profile attendees had sent secretaries in their stead.

Qi Zi asked, “What are you planning to bid on?”

Lu Luozhu unfolded the auction catalog and pointed at Lot 34, the jadeite necklace. “A necklace strung with thirty-three imperial green beads—I can’t afford that.”

When Qi Zi heard Lu Luozhu explain that her foster family wanted it, she pursed her lips, disapproval flashing in her eyes. But seeing that Lu Luozhu showed no intention of refusing, she held back from saying anything inappropriate.

Considering they had raised Lu Luozhu to adulthood, perhaps a necklace with a final bid that could reach hundreds of millions wasn’t entirely unacceptable.

However… Qi Zi wasn’t reluctant because of the money. She simply felt it wasn’t worth it for Lu Luozhu.

As Qi Zi went to pay the deposit, Lu Luozhu suddenly grasped her hand.

“Madam doesn’t seem willing.”

Qi Zi’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. “Filial piety is commendable. But I’m not your madam, so stop calling me that.”

She had money—a necklace meant nothing to her. Yet she didn’t want to spend it on those who had bullied Lu Luozhu.

Gazing at the imperial green jade necklace in the glass display case, Lu Luozhu felt the allure built upon wealth.

“The necklace is so beautiful. I don’t want to give it to my foster family anymore.”

Qi Zi: “Hmm?”

The little golden canary proudly fluffed her feathers. “I want to wear it myself. Does my patron sister think I’m worth this price?”

“I genuinely believe… I’m quite expensive.”