Stepmom Alpha’s Guide to Raising Kids - Chapter 53

At the back door of the Gothic church, Lu Luozhu stood with one hand in her pocket while the other held a handful of birdseed she had seemingly conjured out of nowhere.

The white pigeons perched on the wrought-iron railing locked their eyes onto the seed in her hand, cooing incessantly.

Lu Luozhu tossed the birdseed into the air, and the sound of countless fluttering wings filled the space.

Qi Zi stood opposite her, gazing intently into Lu Luozhu’s eyes, only to be met with a faint smile and no response.

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“I heard you.”

Lu Luozhu waited for the pigeons to disperse before brushing off the remaining corn kernels from her hand.

The pigeons, spoiled by tourists, had grown picky—ordinary grains no longer interested them. Only corn kernels and bread crumbs could earn their reluctant nibbles.

The alpha stood against the light, her dark eyes shimmering like stars.

“Do you know about my parents?”

Qi Zi opened her mouth, but before she could utter a syllable, Lu Luozhu raised a hand to stop her.

“I know what you’re going to say. I imagine you’ll accuse me of ‘recognizing a thief as my father,’ which is why you resented me before. My parents’ deaths are undeniably linked to the Lu family—even Professor Tao’s death is connected to them and my parents.”

A helpless expression crossed Lu Luozhu’s face. She had only recently pieced these things together, including the faint scar over her heart, which suggested that her heart might no longer be her original one.

Even the results of her medical examinations had been tampered with.

Perhaps she hadn’t been born with a heart condition—maybe the institution was under the Lu family’s control.

Who could have imagined that transmigrating into a novel would be this miserable? She wasn’t even sure if this was a transmigration.

Qi Zi’s throat felt stuffed with cotton. She swallowed dryly. “Xiao ZhuZi, I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just…”

She just hadn’t trusted her.

The omega stood in the shifting light, the sun above so dazzling that it hurt to keep her eyes open. The next moment, her cold fingers were caught in Lu Luozhu’s grip as the sound of laughing foreign tourists approached from behind.

“People are coming. This way.”

The young actress, now wearing a baseball cap, was led by the alpha through the winding alleys of a foreign land.

Lu Luozhu navigated the area with ease, skillfully avoiding any paths that might lead to unwanted encounters.

A floral-scented breeze brushed past them, and for a moment, Qi Zi felt as though they were eloping.

Her heart pounded wildly.

Lu Luozhu hadn’t scolded her for following.

Lu Luozhu hadn’t yelled at her.

Lu Luozhu was holding her hand firmly.

Her alpha was different now.

The omega’s eyes stung, turning red at the rims, but she forced herself to stay composed, sniffing lightly.

The dull thud of high heels against the pavement echoed as Qi Zi stumbled forward, crashing straight into Lu Luozhu’s arms.

Before them now was a grand fountain.

The omega in her ivory-white gown collided chin-first against the alpha’s shoulder, her slender waist encircled by Lu Luozhu’s arms.

The scent of bergamot replaced the fragrance of roses in the air, intoxicatingly alluring.

The omega reacted like a cat catching whiff of catnip—or a fox discovering a mouse hidden in the snow.

Qi Zi suddenly looked up and saw the golden cherub surrounded by the fountain’s water jets, its golden wings radiating a holy glow under the sunlight, with a rainbow arching above the fountain.

“The nun forgave the believer’s concealment.”

Lu Luozhu declared shamelessly, “Sister, both hiding the truth and lying will send you to hell. But as a nun who stole the Pope’s cross, I can absolve your sins.” She shook the cross hanging around her neck.

Qi Zi: “…”

“Lu Luozhu! You’d better watch out—real believers might drag you into a corner and beat you up.”

The film crew who happened to capture this moment: “???”

In the live chat of Baby Go Forward:

“I’m dying, does Lu Luozhu even know what she’s saying?”

“LMAO, ‘a nun stole the Pope’s cross to absolve sins’—does the Pope even know his cross is missing??”

“I’m so jealous of Lu Luozhu’s mental state. She wakes up every day and just starts spouting nonsense.”

“Am I the only one who thinks the person in the white dress and baseball cap looks suspicious?”

“That pink baseball cap though.”

“If you guys aren’t saying it, then neither will I.”

“Newbie here, no idea what cryptic hints you’re dropping.”

“Wait, based on how things are unfolding, doesn’t that mean the freeloader who flirted with the believer in the church is…?”

“Could we remember this is a parenting show, not a dating show? Can we focus a little on Ningning, please?!”

“Oh no, her ears under the cap are turning red. No gossip account ever mentioned my wife being into this (screams).”

Qi Zi’s devoted fans felt the distinct illusion of their idol being defiled by a wild boar, glaring at Lu Luozhu with palpable resentment.

Unaware of the storm of discussion swirling around her, Lu Luozhu remained blissfully oblivious.

She pulled a handful of corn kernels from her pocket—who knows where she got them—and gave half to Qi Zi. Then she split her remaining portion, offering some to the poor little kid who couldn’t find her mom and mother.

Lu Luozhu: “Feed the pigeons.”

The little cherub Ningning, with her white wings, came running like a cannonball and crashed into Lu Luozhu’s arms.

“Pigeooons!”

The child, who had been sniffling moments ago over losing her family, instantly brightened upon receiving the corn kernels, as if she hadn’t just been crying her eyes out.

Children’s moods shift like the wind—easily upset, just as easily soothed.

Lu Luozhu tossed the last of her corn into the air, sending a flock of pigeons fluttering down in a flurry of wings.

An Song watched this scene, her lips twitching. “Does Ningning know you’re tricking her like this?”

Lu Luozhu sat cheerfully on the bench, watching the two feed the pigeons. “She’ll understand when she’s older. For now, she’s still young—we’ve got a few more years to fool her.”

An Song tried offering a baguette to the pigeons, but the birds, accustomed to better treats, ignored her completely.

Lowering her voice, An Song murmured, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have misunderstood you.” Awkwardly, she added, “Today, my agent mentioned the scars on your hands aren’t from fake tattoos—they’re burns from rescuing Teacher Qi from the fire. I speak without thinking sometimes. Please don’t take it to heart.”

An Song, seeing Lu Luozhu remain silent, added unwillingly, “I mean you no harm. Well, perhaps I did before. I always thought it such a pity—you had such a beautiful face but never took acting seriously. Honestly, I quite admire your looks.”

Had it been anyone else, they would have hastily accepted the apology from a top-tier domestic singer. But Lu Luozhu remained exceptionally calm.

An Song wore a Greek-style gown, her makeup strikingly different from her usual style yet undeniably stunning.

Her eyes were adorned with thick layers of iridescent glitter, sparkling brilliantly like a high-wattage light bulb.

Little Jasmine wriggled free from her sister’s arms and, together with Ningning, tried to chase after the pigeons.

The scene was pure chaos.

A faint smile played on Lu Luozhu’s lips as she said, “Move over a bit—don’t sit so close. I’m a married woman. Please behave yourself.”

Off-camera, Qi Zi, who had been feeding pigeons one corn kernel at a time, inexplicably looked up to see her alpha pushing An Song away while muttering under her breath.

“My wife keeps a tight leash on me. If she finds out I’ve been cozying up to other pretty girls, she’ll probably break my legs, chain my wrists and ankles, and lock me in the basement to repent. You know how us canaries are—it’s all part of the script.”

An Song froze for two seconds before her expression twisted in disbelief. She yanked out a baguette and swung it at Lu Luozhu’s head.

“Are you insane?! Who wants to get into some alpha-on-alpha nonsense with you? Get lost, go away!”

In the live chat of Baby Go Forward:

“Wait, did I hear that right? Did An An just apologize to that freeloader?!”

“The mic was too far—I couldn’t hear why she apologized, but that was definitely an apology, right??”

“Lu Luozhu, you truly live up to your title as the number one succubus of the entertainment industry.”

“LMAO, the person above didn’t spare her either.”

“I wanted to call Lu Luozhu out for being a diva and not accepting An An’s apology, but then I remembered she treats everyone like this and suddenly couldn’t stay mad.”

“@Qi Zi, your wife’s out here flirting with other alphas. You know about this?”

“@Qi Zi, elaborate on the basement repentance thing.”

“That freeloader’s got some serious canary self-awareness (cat nibbling paws).”

The live chat scrolled wildly as An Song’s awkward apology and subsequent fury at Lu Luozhu’s reckless retort were quickly turned into memes.

An An: Tsundere pout.jpg

An An: Disgusted grimace.jpg

When the photo contest results were announced, Lu Luozhu won by a landslide.

No one begrudged her victory—it was well-deserved.

A saintly nun, holding a Bible, recited verses with downcast eyes while a devoted believer beside her listened intently.

In the grandeur of the cathedral, the nun’s posture was elegant. Her expression was obscured by the play of light and shadow, but her flawless, jade-white fingers gripping the Bible’s cover gave the illusion she was chanting some arcane spell.

Despite her win, Lu Luozhu showed no arrogance. She simply held her little angel, waiting for the next challenge.

The host shoved a microphone in her face. “As the winner, do you have any tips to share?”

Lu Luozhu pondered for a moment before her gaze settled on Qi Zi.

The baseball cap on Omega’s head obscured most of her face, making her cherry-blossom-pink lips stand out even more, glistening as if coated with a layer of moisture.

Having paid an exorbitant penalty for breaching her contract, she had unexpectedly benefited from the misfortune, finally enjoying a rare period of leisure.

Lu Luozhu: “Probably because our devoted follower cooperated very well.”

Host: “Luozhu, do you know the devoted follower? You two seem quite familiar.”

The response to the host’s question was met with silence. Qi Zi, feeling the weight of gazes converging on her, involuntarily shivered and tried to shrink further into the shadows.

Though they were legally married, at this moment, Qi Zi couldn’t shake the secret thrill of hiding in the dark—like something illicit.

Damn alpha.

Lu Luozhu: “Of course, we don’t know each other.”

The moment those words left her mouth, even the host had a string of question marks floating above her head.

Though the host hadn’t personally seen the Omega who had been appearing in the show under the guise of a “staff member,” she didn’t need to guess to know who that person really was.

Lu Luozhu blinked at the camera, making no effort to explain further.

The host was flustered by Lu Luozhu’s wink, her hand holding the microphone freezing awkwardly mid-air before she withdrew it two seconds later.

The host announced the next task, handing each guest group a list of ingredients they needed to collect.

Lu Luozhu unfolded the slip of paper in her hand and found only two items written on it:

Cod pie and figs.

She craned her neck to peek at the list in An Song’s hand, but the other woman swiftly turned away, refusing to let her see.

Unfazed, Lu Luozhu stuffed the paper into Ningning’s hands and started brainstorming.

It was fig season, but the problem was—Lu Luozhu didn’t have a single cent on her.

She was truly broke.

Her pockets were emptier than her face.

Pulling out her wallet, she laughed at the sight of a few loose coins inside.

If not for the production team handling the visa, she probably wouldn’t have even made it here.

Before leaving the country to film the show, she had pooled every last bit of money she could scrape together to pay Qi Zi’s studio’s penalty fee. Now, Qi Zi’s wallet was bulging, while she—the so-called “golden canary”—had spent every last penny.

At this rate, even a homeless person on the street might take pity and offer her half a loaf of bread.

Rubbing her throbbing temples, Lu Luozhu exchanged a glance with Ningning.

The other two groups had already set off to gather ingredients for the evening banquet, while Lu Luozhu’s team remained at a loss.

Lu Luozhu: “Sweetheart, as a member of this family, you should contribute your fair share too.”

Ningning: “Okay, awoo!”

Little angel Ningning nuzzled her cheek against Lu Luozhu’s. She was determined to help her mom solve this problem—she was the best baby, after all!

Maybe then, Mom and Mother wouldn’t feel the need to have another baby.

Ningning didn’t yet know that Qi Zi’s hormonal condition made pregnancy highly unlikely, but she had a vague sense of crisis—she wanted to be the only baby her parents doted on.

Lu Luozhu: “You go pick up trash, and I’ll figure out a way to get some money.”

Qi Zi, sitting beside the director: “…”

The director slowly turned to one of the show’s investors. “Teacher Qi, your family’s parenting methods are… quite unique.”

A crack appeared in Qi Zi’s usually cold expression. “…The child is mainly Luozhu’s responsibility.”

A baby who drinks formula costing at least 20,000 yuan per can and plays with frog plush toys worth 50,000 yuan each is now tiptoeing to rummage through a trash bin.

A passing foreign tourist, seeing this little angel digging through the garbage, felt their heart melt.

“Oh, my dear little angel, you shouldn’t be doing this. If you’re hungry, I can treat you to a feast.”

A middle-aged woman with blonde hair and blue eyes looked at the child with deep sympathy. “My little angel, your sleeves are all dirty.”

Ningning didn’t understand the foreign language. She gave a thumbs-up, nodded vigorously, and then swiftly and precisely continued searching through the trash, pulling out several bottles.

Quick and precise—clearly a seasoned expert.

Meanwhile, Lu Luozhu, completely at ease leaving Ningning to collect trash alone (knowing the production crew would keep her safe), boarded a bus with her last few coins and headed to a farm in the suburbs.

If her memory served her right, there should be a fig orchard there.

Once, Lu Luozhu had been the owner of that fig orchard. Now, it likely belonged to an elderly pair of sisters.

In the world before Lu Luozhu transmigrated into this novel—one without the ABO dynamic—the sisters had jointly managed the inherited estate. But when one fell seriously ill, they had no choice but to sell the property to Lu Luozhu at a low price.

The live-stream camera followed Lu Luozhu as she squeezed onto the bus.

The vehicle left the city center, gradually rolling toward the open wilderness.

Lu Luozhu leaned against the backseat as the wind swept across the endless green fields, tousling the alpha’s long hair draped over her shoulders.

In the distance, the sprawling fig orchard stood resilient, its century-old stone structures weathering every storm.

Viewers speculated whether Lu Luozhu had visited here before—how else could she navigate so effortlessly without checking any guides? Yet some insisted it was all scripted.

Unaware of the live chat, Lu Luozhu hummed an ancient local folk tune, her eyes crinkling with quiet joy.

After getting off at her stop, dressed in a brown leather jacket and sleek trousers, she knocked on the estate’s door.

The woman who answered had silver-streaked hair and warm brown eyes, a bamboo-woven basket dangling from her wrist.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Grossberg,” Lu Luozhu greeted, her pronunciation carrying a unique, melodious cadence—fluid and pleasant to the ear.

Among the production crew, Qi Zi froze slightly upon hearing it.

Compared to her Chinese, Lu Luozhu’s local dialect sounded far more rhythmic, almost musical—a stark contrast to her usual speech.

Her tongue was remarkably agile. Qi Zi mused that Lu Luozhu could probably tie a cherry stem into a knot with it.

Lost in thought, Qi Zi’s ears tinged pink before she rubbed her flushed cheeks like an embarrassed little otter.

Mrs. Grossberg, startled to hear her name spoken by a mysterious Eastern stranger, stared in surprise.

“You know me?”

Lu Luozhu smiled. “You seem to be in good health, Mrs. Grossberg. I saw your poster in town recruiting fig pickers. I was hoping to exchange a day’s work for a modest reward—perhaps your famous codfish pie?”

Mrs. Grossberg blinked in confusion. She had posted a hiring notice for fig harvesters on the town bulletin board—but that was half a month ago.

No one had applied to work for her and her sister during that period. Neither of them was in good health, making it difficult to harvest the figs that filled the estate.

Only a handful of neighbors knew about her skill in making codfish pies. Mrs. Grossberg tilted her head in puzzlement but didn’t refuse this new employee who wasn’t demanding an exorbitant wage.

Perhaps she had been referred by a good friend—who could say?

In that case, she ought to be treated well.

“Your help is truly a blessing, but it wouldn’t be right to give you nothing in return. That’s not how things are done. Besides the codfish pies, I can offer you 28 yuan per hour. I’m certain you’ll handle the harvesting perfectly.”

Lu Luozhu was invited into the estate by Mrs. Grossberg. With practiced ease, she fetched the small plastic buckets used for collecting figs from the storage room.

Each bucket had a strap that could be hung around the neck.

She carried a ladder and climbed up a fig tree. Though Lu Luozhu’s heart wasn’t in the best condition and she couldn’t handle strenuous activities, simple fruit-picking was well within her capabilities.

Her movements were deft, likely because she had done similar work when she first settled in this city. Back then, she hadn’t cared about earning much—she just wanted something to keep herself occupied.

If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Grossberg and her sister offering her work, she might have succumbed to her poor health and melancholy and found some excuse to throw herself into the sea.

Inside the Baby Go Forward livestream—

“Lu Luozhu… her pronunciation just now—I’m absolutely in love.”

“I won’t call you out for showing off this time, but next time, I’ll still call you out (dog head for self-preservation).”

“Lu Luozhu doesn’t seem like someone adopted by a wealthy family. It’s more like she was always meant to be a pampered jewel.”

“Ugh, I almost forgot—wasn’t Lu Luozhu an orphan before? She probably did all sorts of things just to survive. Can’t really blame her for having a rough personality.”

“Wait, hold on—why are we suddenly whitewashing Lu Luozhu?”

“But aside from freeloading, bad acting, and questionable manners, Lu Luozhu doesn’t have any particularly awful traits. She’s not even in the entertainment industry anymore, just mooching off Qi Zi—can’t really fault her for that (cat thinking).”

Opinions about Lu Luozhu among netizens were divided.

On the livestream, Lu Luozhu picked figs with practiced ease.

Before long, the plastic bucket hanging around her neck was completely full.

She gently pushed aside a leaf, revealing a ripe fig.

The fruit’s skin had a faint metallic sheen, as if coated in wax. A light squeeze confirmed its softness—any more pressure, and it might split open, spilling its juices.

With skilled fingers, Lu Luozhu pinched the fig’s stem and twisted it to the left. A whole fig dropped into her palm.

Her movements were fluid, allowing her to shift directions effortlessly on the ladder, like a crab walking on stilts. She didn’t need to climb down and struggle back up every time she moved to a new tree.

She looked like a seasoned worker with a decade of experience.

Birds flitted between the trees. Lu Luozhu only picked figs that had reached the right ripeness, leaving the overripe ones for the local birds to feast on.

The live camera captured the scene from a distance. Lu Luozhu’s figure was partially hidden behind a fig tree, while Qi Zi stood at the base of the ladder, steadying the metal frame with concern.

The omega looked up at Lu Luozhu with fox-like eyes.

“Let me help you.”

Lu Luozhu wore work gloves, her long hair tied into a high ponytail. Her movements were effortless and graceful—not an androgynous beauty, but an undeniably feminine, commanding presence.

Alpha’s demeanor was completely different from the gentle, clingy act she put on in front of Qi Zi.

It was as if Qi Zi was seeing another side of Lu Luozhu—vibrant and full of life, a version she had never glimpsed before.

Beautiful, dazzling, brimming with vitality, yet unrestrained and free-spirited.

Like a fig bursting with honey—unassuming on the outside, but overflowing with sweetness once split open.

Qi Zi stared, entranced. “Lu Luozhu, you’re hiding so many secrets.”

Lu Luozhu handed her a plastic bucket already filled to the brim, then perched effortlessly atop the ladder, gazing down at her beautiful patron.

Then, in the next moment, she suddenly flipped down from the ladder, landing right in front of Qi Zi without warning.

“No one’s around. Let me hold you for a bit—just a little while.”

Placing a ripe fig in Qi Zi’s palm, Lu Luozhu murmured, “If you kiss me first, I might just tell you a secret.”