Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 41

Qi Zi’s phone vibrated inside her handbag, but with all eyes on her, she couldn’t open it to check.

Her manager followed closely behind, blocking overeager fans who were itching to rush forward.

“Check the message for me.”

Qi Zi tilted her head toward Qian Qianqian as she spoke.

Qian Qianqian: ?

Couldn’t whatever it was wait until after the event?

Reluctantly, Qian Qianqian took the handbag, opened the phone inside, and saw the notification on the lock screen.

Her face blank, she stuffed the phone back into the bag, pretending nothing had happened.

Qi Zi, who had been walking ahead, suddenly stopped. Her dress trailed across the polished marble floor as the crowd of fans buzzed around them. She leaned in close to Qian Qianqian and whispered,

“Was it a message from Lu Luozhu? What did she say?”

Qian Qianqian gave her a strange look. With so many people around, she didn’t dare say much, so she covered her mouth and muttered, “Lu Luozhu wants an autograph from a big star like you.”

Big star…

Qi Zi’s ears turned red, her perfectly composed expression crumbling.

Qian Qianqian closed her eyes in despair.

Here we go again. The ears are red again.

Compelled by some inexplicable urge, Qi Zi unlocked her phone to look at the photo Lu Luozhu had sent. Her gaze lingered on a clothing store in the image.

Qian Qianqian immediately had a bad feeling.

Sure enough, Qi Zi lifted the hem of her dress and veered off the planned route. Under the stunned gaze of the shop assistant, she grabbed a few baseball caps from the display.

In the end, she picked a pink one—it reminded her of that frilly pink apron with the bow.

It suited her.

Maybe alphas only pretended to like pink, but Lu Luozhu looked adorable in it.

Adorable, yet with an unexpected edge.

Outside the store, fans whispered excitedly, camera flashes never ceasing. Unfazed, Qi Zi calmly paid for the caps, then pulled a marker from her bag and signed one with a flourish.

Her movements were elegant, as if every gesture carried an enchanting magnetism.

Then, with a swift motion, she tossed five of the caps into the crowd, keeping only the pink one for herself.

The pink cap was embroidered with two little white foxes nestled close together.

The five caps arced through the air before disappearing into the sea of fans. Those in the front screamed and cheered, arms outstretched to grab one.

The lucky few who managed to snag a signed cap clutched them in trembling hands, too overwhelmed to speak, some even sniffling with joy.

Left with no choice but to follow Qi Zi’s impulsive act, Qian Qianqian hurried after her, signaling security to keep things under control.

Holding the pink cap, Qi Zi returned to the planned event route as if she hadn’t just caused a frenzy.

The omega’s lips curled slightly, her smile now a touch more genuine than before.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, she ought to indulge her little sister’s trivial request.

……

Lu Luozhu opened her phone again.

There it was—the top trending hashtag.

#QiZiBaseballCap#

Lu Luozhu lifted her gaze and met Qian Qianqian’s exasperated stare as the latter pressed her fingers to her temples.

“Madam, I’m begging you, can you both keep a low profile? Do you have any idea how much pressure Teacher Qi’s actions have put on the mall security? Of course, you don’t—you only care about bewitching the emperor’s heart.”

Qian Qianqian threw the baseball cap Qi Zi had given her at Lu Luozhu. “You—never mind, it’s the New Year, I don’t want to curse at you.”

Scratching her head, Qian Qianqian added, “I’m going to discuss future business collaborations with this brand. After the holidays, you’ll be filming the parenting show—don’t stir up trouble.”

Lu Luozhu sat at the mall entrance, happily eating an ice cream cone, wearing a pink baseball cap adorned with two small white foxes nestled close together.

The golden signature stood out prominently. On an alpha, this cap didn’t look like ordinary fan merchandise but more like a branded possession.

For a moment, Qian Qianqian was mesmerized, struck by how exceptionally attractive Lu Luozhu looked.

With a playful smile, Lu Luozhu propped her chin on one hand. “Your Teacher Qi is the one who acts so boldly and ostentatiously. Why scold me? Just because I’m a minor celebrity, you think you can step on me? Do you even know who I am now? It’d scare you to death.”

Qian Qianqian, “?”

“Who are you, then?”

“I’m your boss’s wife.”

“You damn—”

Lu Luozhu suddenly stood up, holding Ningning. Qian Qianqian lost all rationality around her and raised the documents in her hand as if to hit her.

But Lu Luozhu darted into the crowd with Ningning, leaving only glimpses of a pink cap disappearing among the sea of people.

Qian Qianqian: “…”

Lu Luozhu carried the child into the amusement park.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, the park was packed. Lu Luozhu’s phone buzzed in her bag—a message from the Lu family. She didn’t even glance at it before shoving it back inside.

Amid the bustling crowd, Lu Luozhu didn’t dare put Ningning down, holding her with one arm while the little girl clung to her neck like a koala.

Lu Luozhu noticed Ningning was gripping her especially tightly.

“Never been here before?”

Ningning shook her head fearfully, her big, beautiful eyes filled with apprehension.

“Mother said if I go to crowded places, kidnappers will take me away.”

Her voice was tiny, her demeanor timid—a stark contrast to the other children laughing and clinging to their families nearby.

“Mother said if Ningning gets taken, I’ll never have a good life again. I’d sleep on a wooden plank in winter, with a drafty window and only a thin blanket, never getting a warm meal.”

“That does sound pretty rough,” Lu Luozhu nodded solemnly. “How about Mommy holds Ningning tight, okay?”

Ningning let out a little squeal and nuzzled her head against Lu Luozhu’s, knocking her cap askew.

As soon as they passed through the park gates, Ningning—who had been too scared to look around earlier—was instantly captivated by the colorful rides. A long line snaked in front of the neon-lit carousel, the towering Ferris wheel turned slowly, and a castle-like landmark loomed in the distance.

“Little foxy!”

Ningning pointed excitedly at a white fox-shaped balloon. “Little foxy, just like on Mommy’s hat!”

Standing amid the crowd, Lu Luozhu spotted the white balloon floating in the air, held by a clown with face paint.

Ningning was completely entranced—until they got closer, and the exaggerated clown startled her.

Ningning’s pitch-black eyes reflected the image of a clown wearing a colorful hat with a comical face. Caught completely off guard, she let out a startled “wah!” and nearly tumbled off Lu Luozhu’s body.

The clown was equally startled, letting out his own “wah!” as he stumbled backward—

Ningning’s loud crying abruptly stopped.

QWQ

Clown: QAQ

Little kitten Ning climbed up Lu Luozhu like a tree, clinging tightly to his neck. “Mama QWQ, I wanna go home QWQ,” she wailed.

Lu Luozhu thought to himself that the clown probably wanted to go home too.

The clown stood frozen, flustered and desperately trying to find a balloon to give Ningning as a comforting gift.

The commotion startled the surrounding crowd, drawing curious onlookers eager for some drama.

Lu Luozhu chuckled, picked out a cute little fox balloon, paid for it, and tied the balloon’s string to his little one’s button.

“No more crying.”

“Ow QWQ.”

Amidst the bustling crowd, Lu Luozhu had no idea that his actions had been captured by a tourist taking photos and later posted on Weibo.

A previously unnoticed Weibo account was suddenly flooded with fans.

Netizens who caught wind of the post were shocked.

“That hat in the bottom right corner looks so familiar… Could it be what I think it is?”

“Judging by the time the blogger posted, it matches exactly when Qi Zi appeared at the mall 300 meters away?!!!”

“Netizens were going crazy speculating which lucky fan would get Qi Zi’s remaining hat, and now we’re being told it’s on Lu Luozhu’s head?”

“I thought maybe it would go to a big fan, or maybe there was some shady deal, but this???”

“You freeloader, stop stealing fan merch, okay? (Shaking violently.)”

Lu Luozhu’s latest Weibo post was a photo of Ningning riding a carousel at the amusement park, along with a selfie of the two of them.

Dressed in a little princess dress, Ningning gripped the carousel pole tightly, looking slightly nervous but forcing a sweet smile for the camera.

Comments from netizens:

“Ningning, what color sack do you prefer~”

“First, happy New Year! Second, can you give our fans’ baseball cap back? (Screaming hysterically)”

“My wife suddenly started checking her phone in the mall—was it you, you little canary, messaging her???”I have a terrifying theory: maybe Lu Luozhu wanted a signed baseball cap, so Qi Zi gave it out as fan benefits.””

“Qi Zi’s solo fans are crying in the bathroom. Lu Luozhu, how dare you? HOW DARE YOU?!”

“Guys, we can’t even hate on this—this is the real deal.”

“CP fans getting a little sugar rush.”

In stark contrast to the chaos in Lu Luozhu’s comment section, the other party’s Weibo was much more harmonious.

@Xu Huaqing: “Excited to collaborate with @Lu Luozhu @Qi Zi @Director Zhou Fan @Qi Xin on the film ‘Burning.’ Looking forward to a great year of teamwork.”

Xu Huaqing wasn’t particularly high-profile in the business world, and most comments simply wished for a smooth production.

But the post stirred up a storm. Photos suddenly surfaced online showing Lu Luozhu and CEO Xu sitting together at a banquet, chatting happily.

Gossip-hungry netizens swarmed in.

In the photos, Lu Luozhu and CEO Xu were leaning close, looking at the same phone. Lu Luozhu held a half-eaten cheese tart in his other hand, looking as relaxed as if they’d been childhood friends sharing the same pants.

Netizens began digging into CEO Xu’s background.

Netizens grew increasingly suspicious, discovering that much of the information couldn’t be found online at all.

The more powerful the person, the less information was available.

The only certainty was that those who attended that banquet held significant status in the industry. Looking at the businesses under Xu Jia’s control—ranging from mining to timber trade, some even involving underground industries in Hong Kong and Southeast Asia—insiders revealed that the Xu family’s next move was to venture into tea plantation businesses.

No one could criticize this—this was a true heavyweight.

Lu Luozhu’s name once again surfaced in the public eye.

A hashtag slowly climbed the trending list: #Mastering the Art of Mooching#

…

Lu Luozhu remained oblivious to all this as she jolted along on the bus. Qi Zi rested her forehead against Lu Luozhu’s shoulder, bouncing slightly with every bump in the road.

Lu Luozhu: “…”

She pulled Qi Zi closer into her embrace, lest the jostling turn her into a fool.

Qi Zi drowsily opened her eyes. “If it weren’t for you, I’d never have come to this godforsaken place.”

The bus was quiet—An Song and Little Jasmine dozed with their heads together, while Ningning and Bai Mianmian leaned against each other.

Qi Zi flipped through the script provided by the production team. “Coming to an orphanage for charity during the New Year is just ridiculous. The kids there don’t even like having random strangers show up.”

Her voice was soft, meant only for Lu Luozhu.

An alpha’s scent could greatly soothe an omega’s nerves. Qi Zi nuzzled Lu Luozhu’s neck instinctively before tilting her head up to plant a kiss on her chin.

Lu Luozhu’s chin was left glistening.

Lu Luozhu tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Qi Zi paused in her affectionate gestures, her expression frosting over again. “Because orphanages, to gain exposure and more funding, force the children to rehearse over and over—making them put on perfect, likable smiles even in freezing snow.”

Lu Luozhu had initially thought modern orphanages were far more regulated than those from over a decade ago. But seeing Qi Zi’s expression, she silently shut her mouth.

The omega’s eyes, still heavy with sleep, were now filled with disgust and coldness.

If it weren’t for her upcoming filming schedule—and the lack of alpha pheromones she’d endure—she would never have followed Lu Luozhu to this program.

The orphanage gates opened as the bus slowly rolled in. Through the window, Lu Luozhu saw the courtyard blanketed in fresh snow.

Children in matching coats wielded brooms taller than themselves, sweeping the white snow aside bit by bit.

When they spotted the bus approaching, their exhausted eyes suddenly brightened, wisps of white breath puffing from their noses.

Ningning stepped off the bus and shivered at the icy air outside.

With a yelp, she tried to scramble onto Lu Luozhu.

Dressed in a new down jacket, a wool scarf around her neck, and a little hat on her head, Ningning’s tiny hands turned red and icy in the wind.

An Song rubbed his stiff neck. “I really don’t get what the production team was thinking. I could’ve just donated money—why torture us in the middle of winter?”

Bai Rui adjusted her child’s scarf and held Bai Mianmian’s hand as they greeted the children.

The crew turned on the live broadcast equipment. Hearing the machines power up, the guests adjusted their expressions. Qi Zi, wearing a cap and mask, pretended to be part of the crew.

In her haste to put on the hat, Qi Zi didn’t notice she was wearing the very pink cap bearing his signature.

The host, with a microphone clipped to his collar, recited the opening lines that had grown tiresome to the ears.

Lu Luozhu was assigned the task of cleaning the children’s rooms.

Inside the Baby Go Forward livestream—

“Lu Luozhu, you’ve really outdone yourself. If I didn’t know CEO Xu was also an alpha, I’d think you’d switched to another sugar mommy.”

“That staff member in the corner wearing the pink hat!!! She looks so familiar, wuuu.”

“Wait, are these pink hats mass-produced??? Why do even the staff have them?”

“This episode is set in an orphanage. The kids really do need care—my mom volunteers at one regularly, and those children are so pitiful.”

“Is there a chance Lu Luozhu isn’t suited to volunteer at an orphanage? Don’t set a bad example for the kids!”

“LOL, commenter above, Lu Luozhu might be a freeloader, but she’s still working hard on the show, okay?”

The livestream camera followed Lu Luozhu as she went up to the orphanage’s second floor.

The children’s rooms had the usual bunk beds, and none of the furnishings were particularly new.

Lu Luozhu picked up a broom, then, as if compelled, walked to the windowsill and pressed her hand against the glass.

She seemed to be checking for drafts.

The odd gesture puzzled the staff behind her, but they dutifully recorded her every move.

Qi Zi leaned against the doorframe, making no move to help.

Arms crossed, her posture was unmistakably defensive. Her gaze lingered on Lu Luozhu with an unreadable depth.

How strange—Lu Luozhu, of all people, willingly coming to an orphanage. Wasn’t she the one who used to despise her own origins the most?

A slight frown creased Qi Zi’s brow as she silently counted down how long it would take for Lu Luozhu to quit.

Two minutes? Three?

Could she even last ten?

Lu Luozhu bent down and smiled gently at Ningning. “Go fetch a bucket of water.”

The alpha shrugged off her coat and, still warm from her body heat, shoved it into Qi Zi’s arms.

“Could you hold this for me, staff member? Thanks.”

Suddenly cradling a thick coat saturated with alpha pheromones, Qi Zi was enveloped in the plush softness of the down jacket—light as a cloud, tempting her to bury herself in it.

Was she actually planning to work? Qi Zi didn’t believe it.

But she held back any sarcasm, meeting Lu Luozhu’s sweet, charming smile instead.

“Don’t overdo it. You think the whole orphanage depends on you alone?”

Lu Luozhu rolled up her sleeves, slipped on cleaning gloves, and began sweeping away the dust on the floor.

The aged floorboards hid layers of grime in their crevices, fine particles floating in the sunlight.

Her movements weren’t particularly efficient, but she worked diligently, wiping down chairs and tables with disposable cloths.

Gloved fingers traced the countless scratches on the desk’s surface—how many years had it endured?

Her heart pounded violently in her chest, emotions simmering beneath the surface.

It felt so familiar, as if she had once used this very desk.

Furniture could be reused, resold—maybe even sent to another orphanage.

Alpha’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. Suppressing the urge to vomit, she threw the disposable dirty rag into the trash and grabbed a fresh one, soaking it in the bucket of ice water.

Ningning clutched a broom taller than herself, looking lost as she clumsily imitated her mother’s cleaning motions.

As the rag made its final pass over the table’s surface, Lu Luozhu noticed words carved into it.

—I must get out.

Frowning, Lu Luozhu silently read the words aloud.

I must get out.

I must earn a lot of money.

I’ll never go hungry again.

The three lines were etched into the underside of the table—only visible if one bent down to wipe it.

Lu Luozhu’s brow furrowed slightly. Each character had been carved with deep, deliberate strokes, as if the writer had been consumed by an unshakable resolve.

Her heart gave a sudden, painful thud. Instinctively, she pressed a hand to her chest as a wave of dizziness washed over her.

“Mommy, I finished sweeping!”

Swallowing the metallic taste in her throat, Lu Luozhu kept her tone even. “Go play with the other kids downstairs.”

Ningning hesitated, still gripping the broom. “But the host said we have to clean together. If I go play, will the aunties online scold you? QAQ”

Lu Luozhu smiled faintly. “If you do too much work, the aunties will accuse me of child abuse. Then your mother will find out, punish me, cut off my allowance, and stop spoiling me. When I’m left destitute and starving, I’ll sneak under your window and meow like a cat. Maybe, out of our bond, you’ll secretly toss me some of the imported snacks your mother buys you.”

Ningning: “…”

Standing in the doorway, Qi Zih—holding Lu Luozhu’s coat—heard every word.

Viewers in the Baby Go Forward livestream:

“Lu Luozhu, you—ugh, I don’t even have the energy to scold you anymore.”

“LMAO, ‘child abuse’ my ass.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t yell at you. Your mouth is literally poisoned.”

“@QiZih, look what you’ve done to this poor canary. I love it—give us more.”

After shooing Ningning off to play, Lu Luozhu swiftly tidied all the children’s beds.

The discomfort in her body grew increasingly severe, impossible to ignore. In a corner hidden from the cameras, she tipped her head back and swallowed a heart medication.

It did nothing.

The sunlight offered no warmth—only a deeper chill.

Once the cleaning segment wrapped up, the cameras shifted to other guests. Alone in the empty room, Lu Luozhu gasped for air.

The adjacent room she had cleaned was another dormitory, though this one had the more common communal bedding.

The air smelled musty with age.

Lu Luozhu squeezed her eyes shut, whether from the headache brought on by her heart condition or just the throbbing at the base of her skull, her muddled mind couldn’t parse the pain.

She had overlooked the most obvious issue.

“Mm—”

A stifled groan escaped her throat.

Then, an old wooden door creaked open. Footsteps thudded dully against the floorboards.

Lu Luozhu’s skin burned hotter. Her tongue dragged over her teeth, craving something to bite down on.

It hurt.

So cold. So hot.

The drafty window whistled with icy wind.

The dream she’d had after collapsing on New Year’s Eve seemed to overlap with the scene before her.

The next second, the omega’s delicate body embraced her.

“Sister?” The alpha responded without thinking.

The omega’s arms around her paused briefly, her body exuding a faint pear blossom fragrance. The collar of her fitted shirt was undone, revealing warm, fair skin right before Lu Luozhu’s eyes.

On the back of her neck was a small bear-shaped scent gland patch.

A corner of the patch had been gently peeled open.

The fluffy white down jacket draped over Lu Luozhu’s shoulders.

The omega sneered, “What an idiot, not even realizing her heat cycle has started.”

Lu Luozhu’s grip on Qi Zi’s waist tightened, and in the next moment, she sank her teeth into the omega’s scent gland.

Qi Zi threw her head back, her pupils losing focus. Her custom-made cashmere coat shimmered under the sunlight with an expensive sheen, while her lambskin gloves pressed against Lu Luozhu’s cheek. The drafty window no longer brought in cold or discomfort.

The moment the omega’s pheromones touched her tongue, the pain in Lu Luozhu’s heart miraculously eased.

Even the throbbing at the back of her skull gradually subsided.

Lu Luozhu’s eyes darkened. “Sister… have we met before?”

Before she transmigrated into this book.

In the fog-shrouded memories of her childhood.