The Cannon Fodder Alpha Who Made the Heroine Pregnant - Chapter 41

41:

The music festival continued, and the earlier minor incident had no impact on the event.

At any music festival, harassment incidents like the one that just happened are common occurrences—security personnel are used to them. Typically, women who are alone or with other female companions become targets for such people.

In truth, these individuals are nothing more than bullies who prey on the weak.

Just like the group earlier, they didn’t dare act tough the moment security approached.

Watching as those people were led away by security, Zhou Lan turned to Chu Zhao with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry.”

She wanted to say something, but some words felt insincere coming from her.

The original owner of this body was no different from those people—in fact, she had even taken action. Originally, the plan hadn’t succeeded, but because of Zhou Lan’s transmigration, the outcome had changed.

To put it simply: the original owner had orchestrated the plan, but Zhou Lan had reaped the results.

Even though she didn’t want this outcome, what was done was done, and she would take responsibility for it.

After that incident, she had been trying to make amends, though she knew her efforts were far from enough.

Chu Zhao shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

Since she had presented as an Omega, she had encountered such situations far too often.

This was a societal issue, it couldn’t be blamed on any person.

For years, people’s emphasis on bloodlines had divided the world into hierarchies.

Modern society had improved somewhat, but deep down, these divisions still existed. Change wouldn’t happen overnight.

“That day…”

Zhou Lan wanted to say something, but at that moment, the music suddenly stopped, cutting off her words.

The host on stage made an announcement, and after the crowd quieted down, he continued, “Now, we’ll randomly select one lucky audience member to come on stage and perform two songs. You can also choose any artist currently at the festival to interact with—whether it’s a duet, a game, or anything else. Additionally, you’ll receive three signed photos from all the performing artists.”

“The lucky audience member, based on their ticket number, will also have all their food and drinks at the festival covered by the organizers.”

Only alcohol and carbonated drinks were originally free.

When the crowd heard about the chance to interact with artists, get signed photos, and have free food and drinks, their enthusiasm was instantly reignited.

The host, a man dressed like a rapper, spoke in a casual, humorous tone with a slight accent.

He glanced at the cue card in his hand and added, “Of course, if you don’t feel comfortable performing yourself, you can ask a friend to perform in your place.”

“And if the selected person really doesn’t want to participate, we won’t force them.”

Before the host even finished speaking, staff brought out what looked like a raffle box.

“Inside this box are the serial numbers of every ticket. I’ll draw one number, and that person will be our lucky guest for the stage.”

With that, the host reached into the box, rummaged around for a moment, and pulled out a slip of paper. He read aloud, “The ticket ending in… 0379.”

“Please, everyone, take out your ticket stubs and check if your number matches.”

Aside from singing two songs, the other activities were quite appealing.

Many seated audience members stood up and pulled out their tickets.

Some grumbled, “It’s all rigged anyway. What’s the point?”

Despite their complaints, they still checked their ticket numbers.

Zhou Lan wasn’t interested, so she didn’t bother looking, but Chu Zhao raised an eyebrow and said, “I think it’s our ticket.”

Chu Zhao had an excellent memory, this was even confirmed in the novel.

“Huh?”

Zhou Lan made a questioning sound, then pulled out her ticket and checked. Sure enough, it was theirs.

The two exchanged glances, both slightly surprised.

It didn’t take long for Zhou Lan to figure it out, these complimentary tickets weren’t given out for nothing.

If The Rolling Eggs Band really showed up, they’d be the surprise guests.

With so many people in the audience, if it really was The Rolling Eggs Band, they wouldn’t be able to refuse performing. The organizers were essentially getting a free show, this was a classic case of reaping without sowing.

Even if it wasn’t The Rolling Eggs Band, their friends were likely musicians too.

And even if they were nobodies, the organizers wouldn’t lose anything.

Zhou Lan had just thought this when someone nearby shouted, “0379 is over here!”

Zhou Lan: “…”

Chu Zhao: “…”

Of course. If they didn’t go on stage now, things would probably get awkward.

But Zhou Lan didn’t mind performing. What really interested her was the chance to interact with the artists, she specifically wanted to meet Little Bear.

She turned to Chu Zhao with a smile, pointed at herself, and said, “Watch me from the audience.”

She set her bag down on the blanket, took the ticket, and headed toward the stage.

Chu Zhao watched her turn away in an instant, her demeanor reminiscent of a freshly graduated college student—full of ambition, ready to conquer the world.

If she remembered correctly, Zhou Lan had indeed just graduated, though with a master’s degree.

This was the most vibrant and beautiful phase of a person’s life, and it was undeniably captivating.

Chu Zhao slowly raised a hand and placed it over her chest, feeling her slightly unsteady heartbeat.

She didn’t know what this gesture or her racing pulse meant. At this moment, her gaze and her thoughts were entirely focused on Zhou Lan, leaving no room for anything else.

Zhou Lan approached the stage, showed her ticket to security, and stepped up.

The host’s eyes lit up when he saw her. “Wow, so pretty! Beautiful and lucky!”

“May I ask your name?”

Zhou Lan took the microphone and answered gracefully, “My surname is Zhou.”

“Miss Zhou,” the host said warmly. “Do you have a partner? If not, there are plenty of handsome Alphas here…”

“I’m an Alpha.”

Zhou Lan smiled shyly and lowered her head, appearing bashful.

A shy, reserved Alpha instantly drew squeals from the Omegas in the crowd.

Compared to the usual arrogant, domineering Alphas, this kitten-like demeanor made the older sisters in the audience weak in the knees, their hearts overflowing with tenderness.

Chu Zhao watched the scene, the smile on her face vanishing instantly as she inwardly scoffed: Flirt.

Zhou Lan just wasn’t used to introducing herself as an Alpha—but in this world, it mattered.

She glanced toward where Chu Zhao was sitting, but the distance was too far to make out her expression clearly. As long as she hadn’t left, that was enough.

The host was also surprised. “You’re an Alpha? The only time I’ve seen such a pretty Alpha was on TV.”

Alphas were usually more masculine, but Zhou Lan’s features leaned Omega-like. Combined with her outfit today, she looked pure and delicate.

“So, do you have a partner? The ladies here are very interested. Why not pick one to be your girlfriend?”

Zhou Lan quickly shook her head. “I’m married. My wife is very beautiful, she’s my ideal type.”

She just wanted to end the conversation, but her words sent a flush spreading rapidly across Chu Zhao’s skin—from her cheeks to her ears, then down her neck.

Unfortunately, without a mirror, Chu Zhao couldn’t see herself, but she could feel the heat radiating from her body.

The host sighed dramatically. “Ah, married so young.”

Then, switching to a professional tone, he said, “Even though Miss Zhou is married, we can still enjoy her singing!”

“What songs would you like to perform?”

Zhou Lan had already decided before stepping on stage.

“‘The Little Grass Jumped Up and Hit the Cow’s Nuts, Rolling Eggs, Don’t Eat Me…’”

She paused after reciting The Rolling Eggs Band’s full name, what were they thinking when they named themselves that?

“‘Childhood is a Beam of Light.’”

This song by The Rolling Eggs Band expressed how childhood was a guiding light in their lives. No matter how many hardships they faced as adults, the light of their childhood would illuminate their path and give them the courage to keep going.

The lyrics and melody were gentle, perfect for an acoustic performance.

“Oh, a Rolling Eggs Band song! I heard they’re currently competing on This is Band. Hope they do well!”

“And the second song?”

Zhou Lan thought for a moment. “Little Bear’s ‘The Scenery Was Just Right.’”

The Scenery Was Just Right sounded like a gentle song about dreams and aspirations.

In reality, it was a biting satire.

The song criticized how, even on beautiful days with perfect weather, girls couldn’t wear what they wanted or go out freely—because of who, because of what.

Of Little Bear’s songs, this was Zhou Lan’s favorite because of its lyrics.

“When something happens, blame you, blame him, blame her—just don’t blame me.”

This line encapsulated the entire song’s theme: victim-blaming, delivered in sharp irony.

The host seemed excited by her choices. “Do you need anything prepared? Backup singers or instruments?”

“For the first song, just a chair and a guitar.”

Childhood is a Beam of Light was best performed acoustically.

The crew set up a chair in the center of the stage and handed her a guitar.

Zhou Lan sat down, strummed the strings lightly—it was already tuned.

She began playing immediately, her fingers drawing out a soft, soothing melody.

The beauty of music was its ability to move people, to make emotions rise and fall with the rhythm.

The audience fell silent as the music flowed through the speakers, filling the venue.

After the intro, Zhou Lan sang the first line—her voice gentle and slightly husky, incredibly pleasing to the ear.

The Rolling Eggs Band’s song was well-known, and soon, people in the crowd began singing along.

But Zhou Lan’s rendition carried a different tone from the original.

The Rolling Eggs Band’s version was a gentle comfort, offering hope.

Zhou Lan’s delivery felt more like: It’s okay if you don’t do anything. It’s fine.

Where the original urged listeners to get back up after falling, Zhou Lan’s version sat beside them, chatting idly, waiting for them to rise at their own pace—but never leaving their side.

From the audience, Chu Zhao’s gaze was impossibly tender. To her, Zhou Lan seemed to glow on stage.

It was as if Zhou Lan was meant to be there, to be a musician known far and wide.

Her life should be simple: writing songs, doing what she loved, free from the quagmire of the Zhou family’s struggles.

In Chu Zhao’s heart, Zhou Lan now had two faces.

One wore gaudy shirts and approached with a sleazy grin.

The other wore a white button-up and slacks, strumming a guitar while jotting notes in a book.

At this moment, Chu Zhao couldn’t tell which one was the real Zhou Lan.

Was it the deeply ingrained image of trash?

Or the pristine figure before her now?