Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 47

@Qi Zi: Very beautiful, I really like it.

The moment the reposted Weibo was published, the comment section was quickly flooded by fans.

“Of course the necklace looks good—my wife paid for it.”

“Closing my eyes in despair. I can question that freeloader’s character, but I can’t question her beauty. That freeloader is just too gorgeous.”

“Does Lu Luozhu not deserve a name? Why is everyone in the comments just calling her ‘that freeloader’? Hahaha.”

“Going off-topic here—wife, come check out @LittleFishDoesntEatFish’s Weibo!!!!”

Under the tagged comment, several more replies piled up, all tagging Qi Zi and “LittleFishDoesntEatFish.”

Qi Zi frowned and clicked on @LittleFishDoesntEatFish.

This was an account with few followers, mostly documenting daily life. Qi Zi scrolled through the past posts but found nothing particularly noteworthy. The only thing that stood out was that, based on the photos, the blogger lived an enviable life—with a wealthy, loving alpha and a three-year-old child.

Qi Zi opened the latest photo posted by the account.

@LittleFishDoesntEatFish: Met Lu Luozhu today! She’s such a gentle and beautiful girl. [Photo]

The photo showed Lu Luozhu and the blogger in an intimate pose, their fingers intertwined, Lu Luozhu smiling radiantly.

Alphas and omegas, being different genders, should naturally keep their distance. An alpha’s pheromones could often pose a threat to omegas, yet in the photo, the two were so close their cheeks were nearly touching.

The background appeared to be a kindergarten classroom, with children playing in the distance. Lu Luozhu’s gaze at the camera was tender yet resigned, as if looking past the lens at the children behind it.

At first glance, it was just an ordinary photo, and most comments were just casual reactions. But the moment Qi Zi saw it, her brows furrowed tightly.

Qi Zi had never been the easiest person to get along with. Seeing her frown, Zhou Fan, who had been discussing the script, paused mid-sentence and scratched his head, wondering if he had said something wrong.

“Director Qi?”

Zhou Fan cautiously approached her. “Do you have different thoughts about this scene?”

Qi Zi’s expression darkened. “Keep going. Don’t mind me.”

Zhou Fan: “…”

Qi Xin quietly sucked in a breath.

You’re the lead actress—who else are we supposed to mind if not you?

Zhou Fan didn’t dare disturb Qi Zi further. Maybe it was the overwhelming aura of a superstar, or perhaps Qi Zi gave Zhou Fan the illusion that she knew the script better than he did—as if she had personally experienced the fire from years ago.

Zhou Fan picked up the script and continued discussing the scene with the other actors.

Qi Zi’s finger hovered over her phone screen, hesitating to tap further. Her alpha was in an intimate photo with another omega—arms linked, skin touching.

Qi Zi recognized the blogger, “LittleFishDoesntEatFish.” Her alpha was a well-known investor in the industry, while the blogger herself came from a less affluent background but married into wealth thanks to her eloquence and beauty.

The two were a picture-perfect couple on the surface but led separate lives behind closed doors.

Just like Qi Zi and Lu Luozhu.

Qi Zi opened Lu Luozhu’s chat window, wanting to immediately message and question her about the omega’s relationship.

Qi Zi: “Are you so free during a parent-teacher meeting at kindergarten?”

After typing the line, Qi Zi immediately deleted it.

What if Lu Luozhu and that unfamiliar omega had just met by chance? What if their relationship wasn’t what she imagined?

Suppressing the urge to make unreasonable demands, Qi Zi knew her emotions were irrational. But she also knew she was currently away from the capital film set, over three hours’ drive from where Lu Luozhu was.

Choosing to do this right after she joined the new production—how outrageous.

This alpha really lacked self-control.

Frowning at the chat window, Qi Zi hastily typed another message before flipping her phone face down on the table. Picking up the script from the stool, she forced herself to focus on her character.

…

At the kindergarten.

The omega put down her phone and whispered a thank you to Lu Luozhu.

“Oh, actually… I have an awkward request.”

The omega nervously scratched her palm. “Could you… share some of your secrets with me?”

Surrounded by children, the omega’s gaze drifted. Ningning looked up curiously at her mother, wondering why she wasn’t coming over for a hug. Suddenly, Ningning made a kitten-like leap, climbing up Lu Luozhu’s shoulders like a cat scaling a tree.

Ningning was the best little kitty.

Lu Luozhu straightened, bearing the weight of the three-year-old on her back.

She immediately sensed trouble: “What is it?”

The omega rubbed her nose, fiddled with her earrings, adjusted her necklace, and after much hesitation finally said:

“Could you teach me how to be a kept woman? I really need this—my partner keeps saying I’m too strong-willed lately, and I don’t know what to do.”

Lu Luozhu: “…”

The kindergarten teacher stood speechless.

Parents at the doorway eagerly eavesdropped.

Ningning hugged Lu Luozhu’s neck, nuzzling affectionately against her mother’s skin.

The omega watched the heartwarming mother-child scene with envy—most stepmothers and children weren’t this close.

Lu Luozhu set the child down and smiled at the omega. Tilting her neck to display faint red marks, she mused:

“I’m not the strong-willed type. At home, I often wear things around my neck for my wife to tug on.”

She kissed Ningning’s forehead. “My wife prefers gentle, docile types who cling to her. To live comfortably, I naturally adapt to her preferences.”

Qian Qianqian: !!!

Have you no respect for either your manager or Qi Zi?

Spreading salacious rumors about your cash cow right in front of your manager!

Qian Qianqian laughed angrily, clamping a hand over Lu Luozhu’s mouth before she could continue.

She glared fiercely: Shut. Up.

The omega socialite: !!!

She’d spotted faint red marks on Lu Luozhu’s neck.

Wow.

The omega remained dazed long after Lu Luozhu left.

So Qi Zi played that rough in private?

Being a kept woman wasn’t easy.

No wonder she could coax Qi Zi into buying her a 90-million-yuan necklace.

Qian Qianqian attempted to drag Lu Luozhu into a corner for a beating, but with so many children and parents around, she could only glare at him fiercely. If looks could kill, Lu Luozhu would have been riddled with holes by now.

The parent-teacher meeting lasted less than an hour, but as a private school teacher, Lu Luozhu had to have one-on-one conversations with each parent.

The discussions stretched from noon until school dismissal in the afternoon.

Rubbing his sore neck, Lu Luozhu said, “Let’s go. I’m heading to the film set to visit.”

Qian Qianqian reluctantly pulled out her car keys and warned, “There’s been a lot of paparazzi lurking near the set lately. Be careful not to get caught.”

Lu Luozhu slipped one hand into his pocket and casually swiped a bag of milk meant for the kids at lunch.

“With the way you’re talking, anyone would think I’m Teacher Qi’s secret, shameful little lover. If the paparazzi expose me, it’ll ruin Teacher Qi’s reputation.”

“Maybe I should stop wearing a necklace and just hang my marriage certificate with Teacher Qi around my neck instead?”

Qian Qianqian: “…”

Qian Qianqian was so angry her head hurt.

“You—”

The words to curse him were right on the tip of her tongue.

A perfectly composed agent was now stomping her feet in frustration.

Ningning blinked her innocent eyes and said, “There’s a competition after school.”

Lu Luozhu paused. “What competition?”

Ningning pointed her chubby little finger toward the kindergarten playground, where several children and parents had gathered.

A banner reading “Participation Over Victory” was strung between two trees.

The parent-child competition events were simple—mostly team-based activities like tug-of-war and three-legged races.

Ningning’s clear, bright eyes made it impossible for any adult to refuse her.

Qian Qianqian tucked the car keys back into her pocket. “Go join the competition. I’ll take some staged parent-child photos for PR.”

Lu Luozhu gave her a long, pointed look, but she averted her gaze as if she had merely made a professional suggestion.

A thick rope, coiled like a serpent, had a familiar green plushie tied in the middle. Squinting, Lu Luozhu realized it looked oddly familiar—a little frog, hanging by its neck.

Upon closer inspection, it was the very same frog plushie Ningning always carried around.

“Sorry, Mama QAQ… I didn’t protect Froggie QAQ,” Ningning whimpered in a tiny voice.

“If Mother finds out I lost Froggie, she’ll be mad QWQ.”

Come to think of it, Lu Luozhu hadn’t seen Ningning with the frog plushie lately.

“Why was your toy tied to a rope?”

Ningning fidgeted, reluctant to explain. But fearing that her mother wouldn’t help win Froggie back if she lied, she confessed in a small voice:

“I… I didn’t want to nap at noon. I sneaked out of class with six other kids to climb the fence and buy snacks from the convenience store near the kindergarten!”

Naturally, they were caught. During the escape, Froggie fell to the ground, but Ningning was too scared to pick it up or claim it.

Lu Luozhu: “…”

She absolutely deserved it.

The nearest convenience store was over a kilometer away.

Impressive.

Draped in a globally limited-edition haute couture overcoat, wearing leather gloves, and adorned with an imperial green jade necklace, the alpha gripped a rope as thick as a python. As the rope was pulled taut, the small frog tied in the middle swayed desperately in midair.

In a place unknown to Lu Luozhu, Qian Qianqian was livestreaming the scene on her phone.

Meanwhile, Qi Zi from the film crew had a video call running on her phone.

The omega actress’s cool voice came through Qian Qianqian’s earpiece, “Has Lu Luozhu… been acting strangely today?”

Qi Zi asked cautiously. Behind her, the noisy chatter of the film crew filled the air. She had changed into a crisp white shirt and black dress pants, standing amidst a room cluttered with set design blueprints. Her soft, straightened hair cascaded like a dark curtain over her shoulders, masking her cautious expression.

Qian Qianqian replied, “Sort of?”

Qi Zi’s heart clenched. Her fingers tightened, crumpling the prop blueprints on the table.

“What did she say?”

Qian Qianqian closed her eyes in despair. “She said she wears her marriage certificate around her neck every day to prove she’s in a legitimate relationship with you.”

What kind of nonsense was this?

Qi Zi, who usually wore an expressionless face off-camera, now looked utterly bewildered.

How bizarre.

Had Lu Luozhu’s brain malfunctioned again?

Before Qi Zi could ask further, the video call from Qian Qianqian showed an intense tug-of-war match unfolding. Parents and children on both sides gripped the thick rope tightly, their feet planted firmly on the ground, eyes blazing with determination.

Lu Luozhu stood at the far end of the right team, her jade-like fingers gripping the rope. The expensive gloves had been stuffed into her pocket.

Perhaps due to Qian Qianqian’s excellent framing, Qi Zi could make out—despite the blurry video—Lu Luozhu’s palms turning red from the friction, the muscles in her exposed forearms taut beneath her rolled-up sleeves.

Reddened palms, straining fingers, tensed forearms—yet her face wore an effortless smile.

An alpha’s genetic superiority meant Lu Luozhu could overpower most, even if her heart wasn’t the healthiest.

The little green frog in the middle of the rope swayed precariously.

Ningning cheered and clapped from the sidelines.

“Mom’s the best!!!”

“Mom’s the greatest mom ever!”

“Woo!”

The frog plushie wobbled as the tug-of-war reached a stalemate.

Lu Luozhu’s hands held firm, unshaken by the opposing team’s efforts.

The omega standing in front of her cast an approving glance.

How is this golden canary so different from what I imagined?

She looks delicate, but she’s freakishly strong?

Are the standards for being a sugar baby that high now?

Finally, the frog plushie was pulled past the line, and the playground erupted with Ningning’s ecstatic cheers.

Of everyone present, the little rascal was the happiest.

Back on set, Qi Zi’s gaze remained fixed on the reddened palms of Lu Luozhu.

The delicate skin now bore unmistakable rope burns, rough fibers clinging to her hands.

Unsightly.

Ugly.

Displeasing.

Her alpha’s hands should be cherished, not subjected to grueling labor.

Amidst the noisy surroundings, a conversation clearly reached Qi Zi’s headphones.

It was a voice Qi Zi detested.

Omega exclaimed in shock: “You’re amazing! I should start working out too. Who knew top players nowadays prefer delicate wives like you?”

Lu Luozhu: ?

“Good luck with that?”

Qi Zi silently ended the video call and casually ordered a few medications for treating external injuries.

Ningning hugged her recovered frog plushie tightly, rubbing her little face against it.

“I love you, Mama!”

Lu Luozhu smiled and wiped her fingers with a handkerchief.

Children are so easily satisfied.

Nothing like her mother.

Lu Luozhu had an upcoming shoot for a niche knife brand advertisement in a couple of days, leaving her little free time.

After getting into the car, she removed all the flashy jewelry she was wearing—putting on a show in public, but unwilling to suffer in private.

Ningning was already fast asleep in the backseat, hugging her plushie. Lu Luozhu set aside her usual smile and quietly watched the scenery recede outside the window.

The evening traffic was as congested as ever. The reflection of her face flickered on the tablet in her hands before a new message popped up.

Xu Huaqing: Sent the info you asked for to your email.

Xu Huaqing: The director of the former Loving Heart Orphanage was recently hospitalized. The address is…

The hospital was only a ten-minute drive from Qi Zi’s filming set.

The tablet’s vibration drew Lu Luozhu’s attention. She opened her email and saw all the investors and financial details of the former Loving Heart Orphanage.

……

The dim hospital room reeked of pungent disinfectant.

The light cast a lifeless glow on the pale walls and ceiling.

An elderly woman, frail as a skeleton draped in skin, lay on the hospital bed, covered by a standard-issue blanket. If not for the faint rise and fall of her abdomen, one might have mistaken her for long dead. Wrinkled flesh sagged from her face, and her drooping eyelids veiled dull, listless eyes.

A distant rumble of thunder sent a flicker of panic across the old woman’s face.

Lightning streaked across the sky, one bolt after another, as the heart monitor by the bedside beeped steadily.

Her bony fingers clutched an old, faded photograph—a group picture of three rows of children.

The children in the photo were all young, smiling shyly and timidly at the camera.

Two girls standing close together had been circled in red.

The one on the left was taller, her expression blank, while the one on the right wore a hopeful, happy smile.

The faces of the other children were too blurred to make out.

“It’s all retribution,” the old woman rasped, her voice like sandpaper.

All retribution.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, startling the woman. Her withered lips trembled in fear, as if a torrent of words were trapped in her throat.

Seeing it was just a nurse in white, her panic subsided slightly.

The nurse placed a piece of paper on the bedside table.

“Someone left a letter for you.”

She bent to check the heart monitor before tiptoeing to replace the IV drip.

The old woman had no phone and little contact with the outside world. If anyone wanted to reach her, they had to resort to the oldest methods.

After the nurse left, the elderly woman placed her finger on the crumpled paper just as a thunderclap exploded outside.

The moment she saw the printed words on the paper, her throat tightened as if gripped by an invisible hand.

The crumpled sheet bore a printed message:

—I’ll find you a matching organ. You know what to say and what not to say.

The old woman’s lips parted weakly, her withered, sallow fingers seemingly coated with something sticky.

Amid the continuous rumble of thunder, she thought she heard the pained cries of a child.

……

Outside, heavy rain suddenly poured down.

Lu Luozhu was startled by the distant thunder.

Qian Qianqian parked the car at the entrance of the film set, and an assistant immediately rushed over with an umbrella for Lu Luozhu.

Stepping out of the car, Lu Luozhu brushed off nonexistent dust from her clothes, her demeanor effortlessly graceful:

“Oh? No need for me to show my marriage certificate to prove I’m family and not some random intruder?”

The assistant looked baffled.

Lu Luozhu craned her neck, scanning the area. “Or should I wait for the paparazzi to snap some HD shots of me sneaking onto the set at midnight?”

“Where are the paparazzi? Not working in the rain? How unprofessional.”

Qian Qianqian couldn’t stand her nonsense: “Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

Lu Luozhu grinned. “Is this how a top-tier agent communicates with her artist? Careful, I might expose you on Weibo.”

Qian Qianqian: “You could also expose me for beating you up.”

With that, she raised her still-warm tablet as if to strike her artist.

Lu Luozhu dashed into the building rented by the crew, chased by Qian Qianqian.

The alpha sighed in exasperation. “Other investors get treated like royalty—why is everyone out to get me?”

“At the very least, as an investor visiting the lead actor late at night, you, as my agent, should’ve quietly opened the back door for me.”

Qian Qianqian ignored her and asked the producer for the location of Qi Zi’s homestay.

She gestured toward the direction of the lodging.

“Go on, investor. The lead actor is waiting in his room for you to ahem pull some strings.”

Producer: ???

Your relationship is so messy.

Qian Qianqian took Ningning to an empty room to rest. As a seasoned caretaker, she was used to this routine.

Once out of earshot, the smile on Lu Luozhu’s face faded. Her inbox contained every donation record from the orphanage she had once supported.

Among them, the Lu family had donated a staggering 4 million yuan under various names—an astronomical sum for an orphanage.

But where had that 4 million gone?

No one knew.

In the financial records Lu Luozhu reviewed, not a single cent had been spent on daily expenses or renovations.

Holding a transparent umbrella, she stood in the cascading rain. A droplet landed on her cheek as she gazed at the pine forest briefly illuminated by lightning, doubt creeping over her.

The familiarity in her heart was too strong to dismiss with a simple explanation like “transmigrating into a novel.”

Pressing a hand to her chest, Lu Luozhu unfastened her shirt buttons in the deserted space, placing her cold fingers over a faint scar.

The mark was so subtle it was barely noticeable.

Chilled air brushed her skin as she methodically rebuttoned her shirt, exhaling a slow, misty breath.

Too many mysteries lay ahead—unraveling the truth would require patience.

But the truth was very close.

Lu Luozhu adjusted her expression, a gentle and obedient smile once again playing at the corners of her lips.

The investor lady knocked on the lead actor’s door.

The popular actress pulled it open, her fair fingers hooking onto the investor’s collar.

“Come in.”

The room was bright and dry. Lu Luozhu, who always smelled sweet around Qi Zi, unbuttoned her coat, still carrying the chill of the night, and hung it on the rack by the door.

“I came to visit and brought you some late-night snacks.”

The freshly made puff pastries from Li Ji Bakery were placed in front of Qi Zi, the red marks from the tightly held bag glaringly obvious on her palm.

Qi Zi said coldly, “Stop bringing me sweets. I don’t like them. Quit trying to win me over.”

The omega hooked her fingers into the alpha’s collar and pushed her onto the sofa, then casually pulled out a tube of topical ointment from the plastic bag.

Cool, translucent ointment was squeezed onto Lu Luozhu’s red, burning palm, and the omega gently spread it with her soft fingertips.

Outside, the rain poured heavily, while inside, a faint, sweet fragrance lingered in the air.

The long-haired beauty bent down, carefully tending to her wound. As she leaned forward, the collar of her sleepwear loosened.

The scent grew even stronger.

Lu Luozhu hadn’t thought her palm hurt much before, but now, under Qi Zi’s touch, it tingled with a strange numbness.

“How did you know I was hurt?” Lu Luozhu’s throat tightened, and for once, the usually eloquent woman found herself at a loss for words.

Qi Zi’s long hair brushed against the inside of Lu Luozhu’s wrist as she lifted her gaze and lied, “I didn’t. The ointment wasn’t meant for you.”

“What?”

The scent of pear blossoms enveloped her as Lu Luozhu suddenly felt a weight on her lap—then a sharp, punishing bite on her cheek.

“The ointment… was for myself,” Qi Zi murmured, “in case you got too reckless and forgot how to be gentle.”