Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 45

Lu Luozhu, eager to please his wife, was selling empty bottles.

Behind Lu Luozhu trailed a live-streaming camera. On screen, he wore designer sunglasses perched on his forehead, a diamond ring on his ring finger, and Qi Zi’s signature steel-gray trench coat draped over his shoulders.

Following him were a dozen little kids.

Ningning: “Mom, we have to earn big money!”

The child raised in Qi Zi’s lap of luxury was brimming with enthusiasm.

Lu Luozhu stopped in front of a recycling station.

Ningning grew even more excited—money meant delicious treats.

She wanted to help Mom earn money so that Mother would like Mom more, and Ningning could have a perfect family.

Lu Luozhu stepped on flattened soda cans, each footfall producing a crisp crunch.

Snow piled atop mountains of scrap. The middle-aged woman sorting cardboard boxes looked up in confusion at the unexpected customer.

Under the bright afternoon sun, Lu Luozhu’s jade-like fingers held up a large bag of plastic bottles.

“Boss, selling scrap.”

Middle-aged woman: ?

For a moment, she was dazed.

It looked like not even all the scrap in the recycling station combined could buy one piece of Lu Luozhu’s outfit.

His presence alone brought an unexpected glow to the humble scrap yard.

Unlike the bewildered owner, Ningning carefully placed the bag on the ground with the other kids, and flattened plastic bottles rolled out with a clatter.

Lu Luozhu: “Collecting bottles in winter isn’t easy. Give us a fair price.”

The woman set down the cardboard box and glanced at the layers of bottles behind him.

“This little? At most ten yuan.”

She had assumed someone dressed like Lu Luozhu wasn’t short on cash—probably just here for the kids to experience life.

Lu Luozhu stuffed his hands in his pockets. “No way, ten yuan is too little. My dozen kids are counting on this money for meat.”

The woman looked at the bottles, then at Lu Luozhu, before bending down to drag them onto the scale.

Ningning had been ready to nod in agreement, her eyes already fixed on the ten-yuan bill peeking out of the woman’s pocket.

Yes! Ningning could earn money!

But when she heard Mom refuse, her beaming smile instantly deflated, and she tried her best to put on a fierce bargaining face.

Baby Go Forward livestream comments:

“…Lu Luozhu, listen to yourself. Is that even human speech?”

“LMAO, coming from someone who just donated over three million to an orphanage. Sure, it’s yours.”

“Save where you can, spend where you must—the broke soft-feed Alpha strikes again.”

“Who says Lu Luozhu can only live off soft money? If Qi Zi ever dumps her, she can always rely on her garbage-collecting skills to survive, hahaha!”

“Okay but the boss is seriously lowballing them. She’s clearly taking advantage of their ignorance.”

“Ningning is so adorable, ahhh.”

Lu Luozhu nudged the pile of plastic bottles with his shoe. “There are at least 270 bottles here. Your going rate is 0.21 yuan each, so these should be worth at least 23 yuan. You think I don’t know the market?”

Some of the bottles were collected by the kids, but most were donated by pedestrians on the shopping street.

Probably noticing the variety show filming, kind passersby chugged their drinks and handed the empty bottles straight to Ningning’s waiting bag.

The elder sister’s expression stiffened for a moment. “Eighteen yuan at most, not a cent more.”

Lu Luozhu wore the look of someone who knew there were plenty of other buyers, perfectly embodying the image of a wealthy yet picky customer.

“There’s not a single drop of water in these bottles,” Lu Luozhu glanced at the stack of bottles the shop owner had just collected, most of which contained some liquid—likely the usual trick to add weight.

“People like me who take trading seriously are rare these days. As far as I know, the price for bottles at the city’s large recycling stations is around 0.23 to 0.24 yuan per jin. Don’t try to cheat me.”

What a serious trader indeed.

Not only was the recycling station sister stunned, but even the live-stream audience was shocked.

Ningning looked up at her mother with admiration.

Wow, Mom knows everything. Mom is like an encyclopedia.

Ningning wanted to become someone as amazing as her mother one day.

Finally, the elder sister twitched her lips. “Fine, fine. Twenty yuan, and that’s the highest.”

Lu Luozhu didn’t haggle over the last three yuan, watching as the reluctant shop owner pulled out a crumpled bill from her pocket.

The children from the orphanage trailing behind Ningning all wore expressions of longing.

This was great.

They could finally earn money through their own efforts.

Ningning gasped in awe. “Mom is so amazing! Mom is the best at recycling in the whole world!”

Lu Luozhu: “…”

In the Baby Go Forward livestream:

“Holy sh1t, color me surprised. I thought that canary was the type who wouldn’t know hardship if it bit her, but she actually knows her stuff…”

“How can someone play piano, guitar, cook, and even know the recycling prices? Damn, I might be starting to like her.”

“Honestly, the quality of the stuff this shop owner collects is terrible. Look at that pile of cardboard—it’s all soaked. No wonder they’re losing money.”

“Replying to above: Lu Luozhu is taking trading seriously. The bottles in her bag are completely dry, no added weight. Most of the bottles given by pedestrians on the street were empty, and she made the kids pour out any leftover liquid.”

“Lu Luozhu has been really winning people over lately. Fine, I’ll insult her less next time.”

“Cold, untouchable young actress with a billion-yuan paycheck x gold-digging, trash-collecting fallen canary—any writers up for this? (cat nibbling paws)”

Qi Zi, watching the livestream: “…”

On screen, Lu Luozhu pinched the tattered twenty-yuan note. “If not for the boss’s kindness, my child might not have meat for dinner tonight. It’s heartbreaking in this cold winter. You’re truly a good person.”

Qi Zi snorted at Lu Luozhu’s sarcasm.

The elder sister reluctantly dug out three coins from her pocket and shoved them into Lu Luozhu’s hand, clearly eager to shoo her away.

If Ningning had looked at Lu Luozhu with admiration before, now it was outright worship.

How could there be such an incredible mom in the world?

“Ningning wants to be as amazing as Mom when she grows up.”

Qi Zi closed her eyes, refusing to imagine her little one rummaging through trash bins with Lu Luozhu in the future.

Qian Qian sat across from Qi Zi. “Madam, she—”

Qi Zi cut her off. “Don’t call her ‘Madam.'”

Perhaps because everyone around her referred to Lu Luozhu as “Madam,” every utterance of the title eventually circled back to Qi Zi.

In the most spiteful way possible.

In the quiet teahouse, sparks crackled from the charcoal brazier at the center.

Qi Zi rested her chin lazily in one hand, gazing at the falling snow outside. She spoke softly, “Did Luozhu ever sell scrap before?”

Qian Qianqian was taken aback. “Luozhu shouldn’t have had it that bad in the Lu family.”

Qi Zi rubbed her warm fingers together—flawless, without a single blemish.

Perhaps there had been imperfections before, but under the weight of wealth, they had become smoother than mutton-fat jade.

Somewhere unknown to her, Little Bamboo might have trudged through the snow, her frail body unable to withstand the howling wind.

Clad only in a tattered, thin coat, her small face and hands reddened from the cold.

Dragging a ragged sack behind her, half her body buried in a filthy dumpster as she scavenged—her ill-fitting shoes slipping off, her numb feet curling helplessly.

Maybe the Lu family hadn’t given her money, forcing her to scrape together meager earnings from selling bottles just to afford school meals and lodging.

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

Qi Zi rubbed her reddened eyes. “It’s nothing. The smoke from the charcoal got to me.”

Qian Qianqian: ?

She could smell it—

The unmistakable scent of lovesickness.

……

Reality was nothing like Qi Zi had imagined.

Lu Luozhu sneezed and rubbed her nose. She had used the money from selling scrap to buy half a pound of beef at the market. Of course, it wasn’t enough for all the children to have meat, but minced and mixed with extra vegetables into dumplings, each could have a few.

She knew the going rates for scrap in the country—she had haggled after checking the latest prices.

The lower the business, the more likely people would take advantage. She looked like an easy target.

An Song’s gaze toward Lu Luozhu gradually lost its former hostility.

“I didn’t expect you… to be so kind to the children.”

Before An Song lay three beef dumplings—the rich aroma of beef perfectly blended with the fresh fragrance of chopped celery. The chewy, handmade wrappers held the broth inside without fail.

At the long table, the children wolfed down the dumplings.

The beef Lu Luozhu had bought was pitifully scarce—most of it had come from the kitchen’s reserves. But that didn’t stop the children from showering all their affection on her.

An Song thought to herself—Lu Luozhu wasn’t the useless fool she had assumed.

“I may have misjudged you because of public opinion…”

Lu Luozhu leaned back in her chair, eyeing the three dumplings on An Song’s plate.

“If a plate of dumplings is all it takes to change your mind, then you really are swayed too easily. Maybe cut back on concerts and use your brain more. I’d hate for you to fall hopelessly in love with me after three more dumplings—us gentle, virtuous, married alphas do have a way with people.”

An Song: “.”

An Song grabbed her plate, ready to smack Lu Luozhu over the head.

Bai Rui: “Hey, watch it! The cameras are still rolling!”

An Song never got the chance. Lu Luozhu scooped the three dumplings into a bowl, ladled in some broth, and carried it all on a tray.

She stepped onto the orphanage’s worn-out staircase.

Ningning, unlike the other children absorbed in eating, noticed Lu Luozhu leaving and looked up. “Where’s Mama going?”

Lu Luozhu paused on the steps. “Mama’s off to her second job.”

Ningning: ?

Seeing Ningning continue to ask, Lu Luozhu raised a finger to her lips. “Shh, it’s Mommy’s secret.”

Ningning immediately covered her mouth, blinking her eyes to show she understood and would keep the secret.

Lu Luozhu caught a familiar scent in the air.

It was the pheromone she loved.

A little fox had quietly returned to its den.

The corner of Lu Luozhu’s lips curled up. She adored Qi Zi’s obedient demeanor—it always reminded her of the squirrels she used to feed in the woods before crossing over.

Every morning, they would appear punctually on her windowsill, snatch the nuts, and vanish in a flash, only to curl up quietly in the little nest she had prepared for them by nightfall.

Aloof and wary on the surface, yet deeply attached to home.

……

In the shabby classroom on the second floor of the orphanage.

Qi Zi hated the orphanage more than she had realized. Places like this should be damp, filled with despair, pain, and numbness.

Even if the current orphanage wasn’t as chaotic as the one from her childhood, it could never be a good place.

Children were too young to understand what pain truly meant—they simply assumed this was how life had always been.

Qi Zi sat on the wooden desk, fingers tracing the gland on the back of her neck.

The dark classroom remained unlit. Qi Zi was like a dazzling star suspended in the darkness, her long, silky hair almost glowing as it cascaded in soft curls down her neck and back. Her fair skin stood out in the dimness, and her half-lidded fox eyes shimmered with emotion, like a spirit dwelling in the shadows.

Lu Luozhu pushed open the door, carrying a plate of steaming dumplings and a bowl of dumpling broth. Her gaze landed on a pair of lips—soft pink, lush, and tempting.

If Qi Zi were a spirit of the dark, she would undoubtedly be the most precious one.

Exquisite, untouchable, deserving to stand under every spotlight and revel in the world’s most extravagant luxuries.

Lu Luozhu’s hand hovered over the light switch when a voice stopped her from the darkness.

“Don’t.”

She left the lights off and set the hot dumplings aside.

“If the audience found out we’re having an affair, Madam would definitely end up trending with me, getting cursed out by countless netizens.”

“It’s not an affair. You’re just fulfilling your duty.”

Qi Zi buried her face in Lu Luozhu’s shoulder. “I don’t care if they curse me.”

The omega’s slender arms wound around Lu Luozhu’s neck, her body still craving the alpha’s scent.

Last time hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. Maybe she shouldn’t have extended this silent invitation to Lu Luozhu in such a rundown place, but she couldn’t help it.

Qi Zi couldn’t tell whether this urgency stemmed from her physical condition or if it was simply because she desired Lu Luozhu—craving closeness purely out of instinct.

From the moment she stepped into the orphanage, her nerves had been stretched to the limit.

She was starved for affection, starved for Lu Luozhu’s warmth, yet terrified that the alpha might recklessly try to claim her.

She feared that once Lu Luozhu had her fill, she’d drop the act.

An omega’s life was an endless loop of contradictions—simple answers twisted into complexity until they became a tangled mess.

Lu Luozhu noticed Qi Zi’s breathing was off today. Her heartbeat was too fast.

“Did Madam run into trouble?”

That shouldn’t be the case. Lu Luozhu had just sent her a grand gift—she should be reveling in the Lu family’s misfortune right now.

Why was she as fragile as a child?

The response to Lu Luozhu was a sharp pain in her shoulder.

The little fox was gnawing on her.

So adorable.

Even biting people was cute.

“If not for your uncle, the person who sponsored my university education wouldn’t have been killed in that accident. If not for your adoptive parents’ family, many people wouldn’t have died.”

Qi Zi’s voice was soft. “If not for your uncle, I wouldn’t have adopted Ningning.”

Lu Luozhu stiffened, her gaze snapping toward Qi Zi.

“Ningning’s mother was…?”

Silence met her question.

Even if Qi Zi didn’t say it, Lu Luozhu understood.

Ningning’s mother had sponsored Qi Zi’s education, providing her with financial support. In return, Qi Zi had adopted her child after her passing.

Lu Luozhu felt the pounding of her own heart in her chest.

So that was it.

“Lu Shengtian deserves to die a thousand deaths.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that bastard leave prison in peace.”

The orphanage’s walls were thin, and Lu Luozhu could hear faint murmurs from downstairs in the classroom.

“The dumplings are getting cold. Eat first.”

“I don’t feel like eating dumplings right now.”

“Not even the ones I made?”

“No.”

Qi Zi tilted her head curiously. “People say you’re a heartless ingrate, and I’m starting to agree. Your uncle’s in prison, the Lu family’s business is in trouble, and you have nothing to say?”

A small, furry creature tentatively stretched out a paw, testing the waters.

Lu Luozhu caught the little paw.

She kissed the omega’s forehead, pulling her into an embrace in the darkness.

The next second, Qi Zi was pushed onto the creaking desk.

Dust smudged her coat.

Qi Zi: !

Lu Luozhu leisurely undid her buttons. “I think my sugar mommy is entering her heat again.”

Qi Zi struggled but didn’t dare make too much noise.

Eyes that were usually calm and contemplative widened in shock.

Lu Luozhu loved seeing different expressions on Qi Zi’s face.

The look of fear mixed with faint anticipation was the most delicious.

Flat on her back, Qi Zi shivered as waves of heat and cold washed over her. The cool breeze outside brushed against her thighs, raising goosebumps.

This was too much.

In a place like an orphanage.

So shameless.

This wasn’t something a dignified, highly educated actress should be doing.

Qi Zi squeezed her eyes shut in distress, unable to resist as Lu Luozhu savored the scent of her pheromones.

The omega’s pupils struggled to focus, her rationality crumbling as her hearing sharpened, straining to catch any footsteps in the hallway.

“Y-you… had a hard life before, didn’t you?”

Fragmented words spilled from her throat, sticky and sweet like syrup.

Lu Luozhu tended to her boss, diligently working her second job.

Her jaw was starting to ache.

She hoped her boss would give her a little extra compensation.

“What?”

“Were you so poor as a kid that you had to scavenge for trash?”

Lu Luozhu chuckled but didn’t answer.

A diligent worker shouldn’t get distracted by conversation.

She should be more eloquent, more persuasive.

The air purifier Qi Zi had brought hummed dutifully in the corner, filtering out the overpowering pheromones.

“Y-you must’ve been really poor before, that’s why you’re so greedy for money now,” Qi Zi tried to regain her composure.

“Stop scavenging for trash. Even on the show. I… I don’t like it… Please.”

The scarred wooden table wobbled unsteadily, while the clock hanging on the wall had long lost its battery. A thin layer of dust floated in the air.

The orphanage that had brought Qi Zi endless suffering now took on a different hue.

Intense impulses, shattered nerves, and unfocused pupils masked past pain and resistance.

As long as Lu Luozhu was there.

Only Lu Luozhu.

Everything would be fine.

“Little Bamboo, you—you should stop now!”

In the end, Qi Zi finished three long-cold dumplings and drank the chilled dumpling broth.

…

In the “Baby Go Forward” livestream:

“Something feels off. Really off.”

“Agreed. Since when do normal people greet the sun good morning when they wake up?”

“Is Lu Luozhu a bit too happy??”

“Here’s a scary thought: today’s the last day of filming.”

“From the director’s plan, it seems they’ll play games with the kids today.”

“Sniff… I’ll miss the kids so much. When summer break comes, I’m volunteering at the orphanage.”

“Am I the only one wondering who Lu Luozhu took those dumplings upstairs for yesterday?”

Lu Luozhu wasn’t particularly fond of children. During the livestream recording, she mostly let Ningning play with the other kids.

Patience wasn’t Lu Luozhu’s strong suit.

Yet today, she patiently brought out playing cards for a game.

An Song passed by. “You’re teaching kids to play cards? Are you even human?”

Lu Luozhu smiled faintly. “My talents are limited. Card games are the only skill I can boast about.”

An Song: “.”

Did Lu Luozhu wake up every day just to spout nonsense?

An Song had learned her lesson—she wouldn’t engage Lu Luozhu in verbal sparring. She could never win.

The children couldn’t grasp the rules of the card game, and Lu Luozhu had no intention of teaching them properly. With a snap of her fingers, she announced,

“I need a staff member’s assistance.”

A pink-hatted omega hidden in the crowd quietly retreated.

Sunlight spilled into the activity room as the cards fluttered like mysterious butterflies in Lu Luozhu’s hands.

“Pink-hatted staff member, I see you. Please sit opposite me and play along.”

The named omega stiffened, reluctantly emerging from the crowd.

She wanted to flee.

Escape failed.

Qi Zi pulled her hat lower, just in time to see Lu Luozhu’s lips silently form: Good morning, wife.

Qi Zi: “…”

She turned away coldly.

Her pheromones pressed forward eagerly.

She didn’t want to see Lu Luozhu’s mischief-making lips.

Under the radiant sunlight, the alpha’s fingers brushed over a stack of cards. The next moment, the gold-edged cards danced like falling leaves across her knuckles.

Lu Luozhu shuffled with practiced ease, her movements too quick for the naked eye to follow.

The cards wove and spun between her fingers, their gilded edges leaving afterimages.

The children, initially uninterested in the cards, suddenly turned their attention, mouths agape.

“Wow, your mom’s a magician,” one child whispered to Ningning. “Your mom can do magic.”

Ningning was equally stunned. “I didn’t know that.”

Her mom could do anything.

So cool!

The playing cards Qi Zi had gifted had an excellent feel. With a deft touch, Lu Luozhu sent them flying into the air one by one, only to catch each precisely between two fingers.

It looked even more like magic now.

A playing card landed right in front of Qi Zi’s eyes. She instinctively closed them, but before her eyelids could fully shut, two fingers appeared before her face.

The alpha flashed a grin.

Like a peacock flaunting its plumage, he proudly displayed his astonishing card skills.

Lu Luozhu had a weak heart in her past life, spending most of her time resting quietly, only able to learn some skills to pass the time.

She considered this performance as a complimentary gift for yesterday’s service, not charging her superior any extra tip.

Qi Zi’s gaze followed the movement of the playing cards. She couldn’t clearly see the cards themselves, but she could clearly see how beautiful the alpha’s fingers were.

No nails kept.

Was it just a habit of not keeping nails, or was she also anticipating something?

Distractedly, Qi Zi thought to herself that perhaps she should raise the price, making the alpha provide more intimate services.

A deck of gleaming playing cards disappeared from Lu Luozhu’s hands, only to reappear moments later.

—With a final flick of her fingers, cards that seemed to come from nowhere rose into the air like autumn leaves, before fluttering down in a shower.

Qi Zi looked up, stunned.

The fluttering cards showered all over Qi Zi’s body, but only one landed precisely in her palm.

Ace of Hearts.