Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 43

In the early hours of the morning,

The night was quiet, with only the soft sound of falling snow.

Lu Luozhu lay in bed, opening her eyes and fishing her phone out from under the pillow.

The omega beside her was fast asleep, turning her back to Lu Luozhu in clear dissatisfaction.

Lu Luozhu propped herself up slightly, quietly observing Qi Zi.

The sleeping figure breathed evenly, her eyelashes fluttering faintly with each breath, looking soft and adorable.

Unable to resist, Lu Luozhu planted a kiss on Qi Zi’s cheek.

The Qi Zi who was usually so aloof and hard to approach, who occasionally said hurtful things—

Once asleep, she looked like a little kid waiting to be praised.

The omega seemed to know just how cute she looked while sleeping.

Lu Luozhu’s expression softened more than usual, and she let out a quiet chuckle before stretching with a yawn.

She glanced up at the falling snow outside the window, typing one-handed on her phone as she opened Weibo.

@LuLuozhu: Thank you for all the care and support over the years. The debt of raising me is as weighty as Mount Tai. [Image]

Plenty of people were still up late scrolling through Weibo, and Lu Luozhu’s post immediately drew a flood of attention.

“Holy sh1t, what does Lu Luozhu mean? Did she just pay back all the money the Lu family spent raising her?”

“180,000… My first thought was that it’s surprisingly not that much. I must be getting delusional.”

“I seriously didn’t expect Lu Luozhu to itemize every single expense in a spreadsheet… ??? What kind of person even does that??”

“Am I the only one who noticed that Lu Luozhu even calculated the monthly rent in this spreadsheet???”

“There’s no money spent on hobbies here. Most families would at least enroll their kids in some extracurriculars, right?”

“Not just hobbies—how the hell is the tuition so shockingly low too?”

“Mystery solved, girls. Turns out Lu Luozhu was a top student who got into private school on a full scholarship. Who knew this freeloader had brains?”

A single transfer post pushed the Lu family into the spotlight, but Lu Luozhu acted as if nothing had happened and posted again.

@LuLuozhu: Wishing all children healthy growth. Education changes destiny. [Image]

“????? Lu Luozhu, just say if your account got hacked. We won’t blame you.”

“Donated 180,000 to an orphanage—are you trying to imply something here?”

“Alright, fine. I won’t rag on you today. Happy?”

“LMAO, ‘education changes destiny’ sounds so weird coming from you.”

“Did education change your destiny from working hard to freeloading?”

“Switching from hater to fan (but I’ll switch back the next time you deserve a beating).”

After posting, Lu Luozhu didn’t bother checking the comments. She muted her phone, tossed it back under the pillow, and lay down again, nuzzling her cheek against Qi Zi’s back.

Broke. Completely broke now.

Qi Zi let out a grumbling protest, like a small animal disturbed from its sleep.

Her eyes fluttered open, voice drowsy. “Get off. Don’t touch me.”

But her tone was so soft and sweet that even the scolding sounded endearing.

The next second, Qi Zi was deep asleep again. She turned over, her body instinctively gravitating toward the source of alpha pheromones.

—Snuggling closer.

Nuzzling in.

If she were a little fox right now, she’d probably be sleeping curled up with her tail as a pillow.

Lu Luozhu suddenly felt a warm body snuggle into her arms. “I hate you, don’t touch me,” came the mumbled complaint—even in sleep, the words were grumbled.

With a silent chuckle, Lu Luozhu pulled the blanket over them, wrapping Qi Zi securely in her embrace. “Sleep now,” she murmured.

Qi Zi’s forehead pressed against Lu Luozhu’s shoulder, arms and legs draped over her like a possessive vine. The omega’s silk pajamas had slipped open at the collar, revealing more than a gift waiting to be unwrapped—far more tempting. Golden earrings dangled from Qi Zi’s earlobes, and Lu Luozhu carefully removed them, worried they might press uncomfortably against her skin. “Still dressing up so late at night,” she teased softly.

The drafty window was no longer the culprit for sleepless nights. The thick blankets and their intertwined bodies provided more than enough warmth. Lu Luozhu drifted off quickly, radiating a carefree contentment that bordered on reckless.

Meanwhile, the PR team was still scrambling.

…

The next morning, Lu Luozhu was jolted awake by Qian Qianqian’s furious pounding on the door.

“You had the guts to post on Weibo, now have the guts to open the door!”

“Hiding in your room—what kind of alpha does that?!”

“Get out here! How did you even know my modified Weibo password?!”

Dark circles hung heavily under Qian Qianqian’s eyes.

Yawning, Lu Luozhu pushed the door open, her entire being steeped in the lingering scent of omega pheromones. “Keep it down,” she mumbled. “Ningning and Qi Zi are still asleep.”

Qian Qianqian cursed under her breath. “Sleep my ass! Ningning’s building a snowman downstairs, and Teacher Qi woke up ages ago. You’re the only one still lazing around in bed.”

Bleary-eyed, Lu Luozhu checked her phone—9 AM.

Late, indeed.

Still half-asleep, she left the door open, ignoring Qian Qianqian, and flopped face-first back onto the bed.

“Help yourself if you need something.”

Qian Qianqian: “…You didn’t even warn me before posting last night. The PR team is currently throwing themselves off the rooftop like dumplings in boiling water.”

Burrowed under the blankets, Lu Luozhu seemed seconds away from dozing off again.

“Could you at least be a little kinder to someone who just lost a fortune? Even the vegetable vendor smiles at me, bags my groceries, and says, ‘Come again soon.'”

Qian Qianqian had a whole dictionary of curses ready.

Lu Luozhu cut in before she could start. “If you’re here about the Lu family, sorry, no comment. But rest assured, my household registration is transferred out. No more ties to them.”

The words lodged in Qian Qianqian’s throat. She sat on the edge of the bed. “What do you mean by that?”

Too drowsy to lift her head, Lu Luozhu let her forehead rest against Qian Qianqian’s shoulder.

“I mean, Qi Zi and I are on the same household register now. How romantic, right?”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

That wasn’t even the question.

What absolute nonsense.

You two are practically divorced—romantic, my foot.

“Are you sleepwalking?”

A fluffy head suddenly dropped onto Qian Qianqian’s shoulder. Professional instinct screamed at her to avoid excessive physical contact with clients.

Lu Luozhu was undeniably attractive, with a figure that stood out even in a crowd.

Her smile was gentle, her eyes expressive. Even yawning, she didn’t come off as delicate like a kitten.

Maybe it was Qian Qianqian’s imagination, but the drowsy Lu Luozhu seemed more like a predator who had just feasted, now napping atop her kill after a bloody hunt.

Qian Qianqian slapped herself.

Damn it.

Alphas were all the same—even asleep, they knew how to seduce.

Two minutes later, Lu Luozhu finally seemed to shake off her drowsiness. She shuffled to the bathroom in slippers, paying no attention to her agent whose face now bore an extra red mark.

Qian Qianqian sat in the room discussing the follow-up PR plan.
“The Lu family—”

As Qian kept chattering, Lu casually grabbed one of Qi Zi’s usual jackets to wrap around herself. Their builds were similar, though Lu was slightly taller, so Qi’s slightly oversized clothes fit her perfectly.

“Lu Shengtian won’t last much longer. That idiot’s about to be finished.”

Qian Qianqian: “Hey, don’t underestimate them. The Lu family started in real estate—they’ve got deep roots. They’re not like your average online trolls…”

Before Qian could finish, Lu Luozhu, clutching Qi Zi’s clothes, drifted downstairs like a wandering ghost, yawning as she went.

The alpha was truly exhausted.
There must have been sleeping pills mixed into that omega’s pheromones.

Downstairs, everyone was looking at Lu Luozhu differently.

In the Baby Go Forward livestream chat:
“Girl, you’re trending. You know that, right?”
“OMG Lu Luozhu, that jacket looks kinda familiar…”
“Guys, I’ve spotted something! As we all know, Qi Zi isn’t on this show—only Lu signed up. So why is Lu wearing Qi’s clothes?!”
“ZhuZi CP fans are feasting today.”
“Next time I won’t call you a gold-digger. You donated all your ‘gold-digging’ money—alpha among alphas, damn impressive.”

Lu Luozhu accidentally caught these comments and looked up to meet the gaze of An Song, who sat across from her, already finished with breakfast.

An Song was eating an avocado salad with quinoa and salmon.
The stare made her shiver. “There’s some leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Rubbing sleep from her eyes—perhaps not fully awake—Lu unzipped the jacket slightly and took a deep inhale of the inner lining right in front of the cameras.
The sweet scent of pear blossoms made her even sleepier.

Everyone else looked at her like she was a pervert.

The kitchen leftovers weren’t much: cold congee and a few side dishes.
One couldn’t expect gourmet meals at an orphanage.

Lu disliked cold congee. She grabbed a lukewarm steamed bun and poured half a cup of tepid soy milk.

Watching her struggle, An Song said stiffly, “Everyone else got up at seven. Only you have to be the diva.”

The crisp lettuce in An Song’s bowl looked tempting, the tuna gave off a rich meaty aroma, and the caramel macchiato beside it steamed invitingly.
Not Lu’s preferred soupy breakfast, but far better than what she had.

Lu: “…If you got up at seven and are only eating now, your appetite must be poor. Why not give me your portion?”

She noticed a takeout receipt tucked under the salad bowl and pulled it out.
Nearly 400 yuan for one breakfast.
Were the lettuce leaves made of gold?

Lu: “…”

An Song, without pretension, asked staff for clean utensils to share—only to see Lu silently return the receipt.

“Never mind. I don’t even have 4 yuan on me. You eat. I’ll stick with the bun.”

And so Lu Luozhu, with literally less than 4 yuan in her pocket, began quietly gnawing on her steamed bun.

A bit dry.

She took a sip of soy milk to wash it down.

Ningning, who had just returned from playing outside, came over and sniffed the food Lu Luozhu was eating with her nose. “Mommy’s on a diet?”

Lu Luozhu: “…”

Lu Luozhu: “Mm, Mommy doesn’t like eating other things. Steamed buns are just fine.”

A hashtag quietly climbed the trending list.

#LuLuozhuTooReal#

In the car, Qi Zi sipped bird’s nest congee while scrolling through Weibo. The peach gum and bird’s nest congee moistened her lips, adding a glossy sheen to their already plump and perfect shape.

“Lu Luozhu didn’t use my card.”

Qian Qianqian and the PR team had just finished a meeting. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she said,

“What? The madam paid out of her own pocket?”

Qian Qianqian had initially assumed Lu Luozhu had spent money from Qi Zi’s account, but judging by Qi Zi’s reaction, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Even for someone handling big business deals, it was rare to have 6.4 million in liquid funds readily available.

Lu Luozhu paid swiftly, handling the matter flawlessly and directly silencing the haters.

A rare look of concern flickered across Qi Zi’s usually expressionless face. “Do you think Lu Luozhu still has money left in her account now?”

Qian Qianqian, inheriting Lu Luozhu’s bluntness, blurted out, “I suspect Lu Luozhu is so broke she might resort to taking out a nude loan soon.”

Realizing her slip-up, Qian Qianqian quickly covered her mouth.

Qi Zi: “Surely not…?”

Qian Qianqian mumbled, “I was joking.”

Qi Zi: “I almost wish she were poorer—the poorer, the better.”

If Lu Luozhu ran out of money, she’d come to her.

She’d behave—be a little more obedient, a little more considerate.

Suppressing her wicked thoughts, Qi Zi finished the entire bowl of peach gum and bird’s nest congee. She had woken up unusually early that morning.

Upon opening her eyes, she realized her entire body was draped over Lu Luozhu.

The alpha’s sleeping posture was impeccable—it was her own restless limbs that had turned her into an octopus.

Her lips were pressed against Lu Luozhu’s neck, each exhale warming a small patch of that fair skin.

Not only that.

She had also drooled.

After waking up, Qi Zi frantically wiped Lu Luozhu’s neck before cowardly fleeing the scene.

……

Just as Qi Zi had predicted, Lu Luozhu was completely broke.

Today’s assigned task was to take the orphanage kids on a career experience outing.

Ningning took on the role of team leader. “Everyone hold hands and don’t get lost, okay?”

The kids: “Okay!”

Ningning: “Today, we’re going to make big money!”

The kids: “Okay!”

A chorus of “okays” from a dozen little voices drew curious glances from passersby.

Viewers in the livestream wondered what kind of career experience Lu Luozhu had planned for the kids.

Lu Luozhu found a spot on a pedestrian street, borrowed a small stool from the production crew, and sat down by the roadside. The winter streets were bitterly cold, but the holiday-season foot traffic was still substantial.

The production team was well-prepared and, at Lu Luozhu’s request, had brought along portable musical instruments.

“Just one guitar—is that okay?”

The staff handed Lu Luozhu the guitar case, glancing back every few steps, worried whether this clueless woman might damage the expensive instrument.

A dozen little faces looked up at her expectantly. As Lu Luozhu tuned the strings, she seemed to suddenly remember the kids were still there.

“Do any of you know how to play the guitar?”

“No.”

The children chorused in unison, as if suddenly remembering something, and added, “We won’t~”

Ningning, who had thoroughly corrupted all the kids: “…”

Lu Luozhu smiled kindly, “What a pity. Then you’ll have to do what you’re capable of.”

The live-stream audience was curious about what Lu Luozhu would have the children do. The next second, they saw her point at a trash can and a discarded drink bottle beside it.

“Many hands make light work. Contribute your part to this city.”

The easily fooled children cheered, “Okay~!”

Ningning excitedly: “Woo!”

The production team: “……”

The eager host: ?

Wait, are you serious??

Making kids pick up plastic bottles???? Are you even human??

Not far away in a café, a certain Teacher Qi wearing a baseball cap and wrapped in Lu Luozhu’s coat: “……”

Qian Qianqian facepalmed.

Everyone watched as Lu Luozhu tuned her guitar, placed the guitar case on the ground with two payment QR codes attached.

Before transmigrating into the book, Lu Luozhu had heart problems. After achieving financial freedom but unable to exercise, she could only pick up less strenuous hobbies—music being one of them.

As if to complement the scene, Lu Luozhu beckoned to an assistant, who approached puzzled, “?”

Lu Luozhu took the sunglasses clipped to the assistant’s down jacket.

“Borrowing these, thanks.”

With black shades on, she strummed the guitar strings, the alpha waiting in the cold wind for her first generous passerby.

WeChat payment received: 5 yuan. Thank you for your patronage. Please come again.

……

In the Lu family mansion.

Madam Liang’s face darkened. “What does Lu Luozhu mean by this? Trying to distance herself from the resort? Does she know something?”

The teacup slammed onto the table with a jarring clink. A flash of panic crossed Madam Liang’s face.

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

Lu Luozhu shouldn’t remember what happened back then.

The doctors said her memory was affected—there was almost no chance she’d recall anything.

“Enough, calm down.”

Unlike his agitated wife, her alpha husband remained composed. “Even if Lu Luozhu has discovered something, so what? She has no evidence. There’s no free lunch in this world. Since our family adopted her, she should contribute accordingly.”

“Besides, if not for the rejection back then, our daughter wouldn’t have…”

The notification of an 180,000 yuan transfer made Madam Liang’s expression shift repeatedly, casting gloom over the entire Lu household.

After her husband’s reassurances, Madam Liang gradually steadied herself, her sharp nails nearly drawing bl00d from her palms.

“We should never have adopted Lu Luozhu. Should’ve let her die in that fire and be done with it.”

Curses laced with regret lingered in the dark room.

A social news segment quietly appeared in the daily reports.

Chengdu Seagull Mall Phase 2 Project Exposed for Cutting Corners; Multiple Companies Under Investigation

Lu Shengtian hid in his office, too afraid to step out. The main computers and relevant personnel in the office area had all been taken away.

As footsteps grew louder in the hallway, Lu Shengtian’s face turned paler.

Where did things go wrong? Why did the investigation come so quickly?

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

This shouldn’t be happening… This absolutely shouldn’t be happening.

Lu Shengtian had always been in charge of the projects in City C and had smoothed out all upstream and downstream relationships. There was no reason for him to be reported—aside from the recent troubles caused by the Xu family, there were virtually no hidden dangers.

Had Xu Huaqing gone mad? What kind of deal had Lu Luozhu struck with her to make that alpha follow orders so precisely?

Trembling, Lu Shengtian pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts to find his secretary’s number.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently switched off.”

The phone was smashed violently onto the ground, veins bulging on Lu Shengtian’s forehead in fury.

Everyone understood the saying “When the wall is about to collapse, everyone gives it a push,” but how could he possibly accept it when it happened to him?

On the cracked screen of his phone, an entertainment gossip notification popped up.

The image showed a photo of Lu Luozhu and Qi Zi together.

The alpha and omega were standing close, with an adorable little girl squeezed between them.

The girl, barely three years old, had large, sparkling eyes that brimmed with liveliness. Her hair was tied into two cute little braids, making her look especially charming.

Lu Shengtian’s gaze froze as if struck by an electric shock.

Ah—!

A woman long buried in his memories suddenly surfaced in his mind—that omega architect surnamed Tao, who had once come to his office to report quality issues with the construction project. During an argument, she had brought up the suspicious circumstances surrounding the deaths of her two mentors.

Lu Shengtian had politely escorted her out, promising to investigate thoroughly.

The next day, a speeding truck put an end to everything.

By the time Lu Shengtian snapped back to reality, the door had already been kicked open.

Pinned against the wall in a humiliating posture, his hands were cuffed in silver handcuffs.

“No! Let me go! I didn’t do anything! I’ve been framed!”

The middle-aged alpha’s strength was limited—years of indulgence in wine and women had long drained his vitality. Under the restraint of the much stronger law enforcement officers, Lu Shengtian had no chance to resist.

His final thought was that he should have killed Lu Luozhu long ago—that ungrateful wolf in sheep’s clothing.

…

In the director’s office of the orphanage.

“Finally, we’ve received a donation,” the elderly director murmured with a flicker of joy. “Tell the staff to buy more meat today—let’s make braised pork for the children. It’s been so long since they’ve had a proper meal with some fat in it.”

A warm smile crossed the director’s face. “I should personally thank the kind donor.”

A staff member standing beside her replied, “The donor is Lu Luozhu. She’s currently filming a show.”

The director, an elderly omega woman, radiated kindness when she smiled.

“These children are all in poor health, making them especially difficult to adopt. The daily expenses are a huge burden.”

Wrapped in a half-sleeved down jacket, her breath formed white puffs in the chilly air.

The deep wrinkles on her face softened with affection.

“Such pitiful children. Without the generosity of kind-hearted people from all walks of life, this orphanage wouldn’t be able to survive.”

With unsteady steps, the director boarded the production team’s car. When the vehicle reached the end of the pedestrian street, she hesitated before opening the door.

“Why do you think that celebrity made the donation?” she asked.

The staff member accompanying her explained, “I heard it’s because Lu Luozhu once lived in an orphanage herself. The one she stayed in has long since closed down, so she donated to ours instead.”

The director nodded thoughtfully, “What a grateful child who repays kindness.”

Then the director saw this so-called grateful child organizing the other children to collect empty bottles to sell for money.

The director: “…”

…

A shadow fell over Lu Luozhu as she played and sang a popular tune on the street.

The alpha stood tall, her fingers moving skillfully and gracefully across the guitar strings, drawing an ever-growing crowd.

The sound of mobile payment notifications chimed incessantly.

Looking up from her performance, Lu Luozhu met the gaze of a striking omega wearing a baseball cap.

With a gentle smile, she said, “Kind passerby, could you step aside? You’re blocking my payment QR code.”

Qi Zi’s phone aligned with the code—ding—a crisp notification cut through the strumming of the guitar.

WeChat Payment received: 99,999 yuan. Thank you for your patronage. Please come again.

 

WeChat Payment received: 99,999 yuan. Thank you for your patronage. Please come again.

“Tsk, how pitiful.”

The wealthy omega leaned in, gripping the street performer’s collar, playfully pushing down her sunglasses until their noses nearly touched, warm breath mingling in the cold air.

“That was just the deposit. I want you to play for me—alone.”

Lu Luozhu chuckled. “What would you like to hear? I can play it right now.”

The omega didn’t release her grip. Instead, she brought her lips close to Lu Luozhu’s ear, her voice husky as she murmured:

“That won’t do. It’s illegal.”

“Aren’t you short on money? I’m giving you a chance to earn some.”