The Cannon Fodder Alpha Who Made the Heroine Pregnant - Chapter 44

44:

Nearly an hour had passed in Zhou Xianling’s study.

Though Zhou Xianling had deduced that the Chu family incident was part of a larger scheme, he never imagined the masterminds behind it were his own daughter and Chu Zhao.

After a prolonged silence, he asked, “Do you play chess?”

Zhou Lan gave a noncommittal hum. “A little.”

She’d learned chess as a child, both Go and Chinese chess. She’d even considered pursuing professional Go rankings at one point, but music had always been her true passion. Achieving mastery in weiqi required immense time and dedication, leaving no room for other pursuits.

Her interests were too varied, nothing except music could hold her focus for long. She was the type who knew a little about everything but specialized in nothing.

As for Chinese chess, she was decent. There had been a phase where she’d studied endgame strategies obsessively.

The match began cautiously. Beneath Zhou Lan’s youthful exterior lay the patience of an old man—each move deliberate, unhurried.

Zhou Xianling, the seasoned fox, matched her initially. The early game was evenly balanced.

But youth had its advantages, the audacity to charge forward without hesitation.

Zhou Lan launched an offensive, swiftly advancing across the river boundary.

Piece after piece was traded, simplifying the board.

“A thousand enemies dead at the cost of eight hundred of your own, what will you have left even if you win?” Zhou Xianling remarked.

Zhou Lan shrugged. “It’s just a game. Winning is all that matters.”

To Zhou Xianling, chess mirrored business—every move required weighing gains and losses.

But to Zhou Lan? Chess was chess. As long as she emerged victorious, nothing else mattered.

Real life demanded different tactics, of course. She wouldn’t employ such recklessness off the board.

Zhou Xianling stiffened, then abruptly scattered the remaining pieces. “Leave.”

“Huh?”

Zhou Lan studied the unfinished game. Given ten more moves, she could’ve forced a checkmate.

The board had been too cluttered earlier, the situation chaotic. Zhou Xianling’s excessive caution—prioritizing defense over attack—had created an opening. And she’d seized it.

Attack always trumped passive defense.

Zhou Xianling’s playing style revealed his age. The once-ambitious man now sought only to preserve Zhou Corp, even at the cost of conceding profits.

Yet sometimes, excessive caution bred vulnerability. Zhou Xianling had realized this too late—his conservatism had ceded the initiative, allowing others to strike the fatal blow.

“You remind me of my younger self.”

Zhou Xianling’s tone held something like admiration. His approval of Zhou Lan grew by the minute.

What father wouldn’t prefer his own flesh and bl00d as successor? Only Zhou Lan’s past incompetence had driven him to consider outsiders.

Zhou Lan rose, eyeing the disrupted board. “I disagree.”

“I merely embody traits most young people share. You see yourself in me because you were once the same.”

Unfazed by her bluntness, Zhou Xianling remained confident. “You’ll change your mind.”

“Will I?” Zhou Lan turned away. She was curious what tomorrow’s “tour” would entail that he felt so assured.

Descending the stairs, she found Chu Zhao and Ling He’na seated stiffly in the living room, neither looking pleased.

Assuming Ling He’na had been harassing Chu Zhao again, Zhou Lan strode over. “It’s late. We’re leaving.”

She reached for Chu Zhao’s hand, only for the other woman to subtly evade contact, standing on her own.

“I’m going,” Chu Zhao stated coolly.

Zhou Lan blinked. Normally, Chu Zhao would maintain appearances before the Zhou’s. What has changed?

Has Ling He’na said something?

Trailing behind Chu Zhao, she could practically feel the icy aura radiating off her.

Remembering the untouched noodles, Zhou Lan tentatively suggested, “Should we grab dinner?”

Since Chu Zhao had been unwell earlier, Zhou Lan had driven them from the music festival to the Zhou estate. Now, she took the wheel again, noting Chu Zhao’s pallor.

Probably Zhou family matters weighing on her.

Chu Zhao leaned against the window, silent.

Instead of returning to the villa, Zhou Lan pulled into a downtown hotel.

Chu Zhao merely glanced at her, eerily calm. No outburst, no interrogation—just unsettling quiet.

Zhou Lan explained unprompted, “We can’t leave Jiangning, but we don’t have to stay at the villa.”

“I’ll rent a place tomorrow. We’re not going back.”

If neither liked that house, why force themselves?

Chu Zhao’s gaze softened marginally, but she remained mute. Some words were too difficult to voice.

Zhou Lan booked two adjoining rooms.

Her first order of business was ordering delivery from a trusted restaurant—noodles and assorted dishes, unsure what Chu Zhao might want.

When the food arrived, she knocked on Chu Zhao’s door.

No response.

After retrieving the meal from the front desk, she called instead.

Thirty seconds passed before the line connected. Silence.

Zhou Lan wondered what could’ve provoked this reaction. Has someone said something in her absence? Had Chu Zhao overthought something?

She’d always known their fragile rapport could shatter at the slightest provocation. This confirmed it.

“I ordered food. Come get it,” Zhou Lan said.

A noncommittal grunt was the only reply.

At least she hadn’t refused. There was still room to mend things.

As Zhou Lan stepped out with the food, Chu Zhao’s door opened. She handed over the meal.

“Thanks.”

Just as Chu Zhao turned to shut her door, Zhou Lan blocked it. “Is there something you can’t tell me?”

She’d never been one for subtlety, like advising Sang Xia to be direct with Sang Yu.

Misunderstandings required airing, not silent festering.

But if asked once and still met with silence, she wouldn’t press further.

Chu Zhao’s mind was blank. Exhaustion weighed on her, she just wanted sleep.

“No.”

No thoughts meant no mental projections for Zhou Lan to overhear.

Retracting her hand, Zhou Lan watched the door close.

Back in her room, the untouched food held no appeal.

Across the hall, Chu Zhao unpacked her meal only to recoil—the mere sight induced nausea.

Late into the night, both lay awake in their respective beds.

Zhou Lan racked her brain, unable to pinpoint what had triggered Chu Zhao’s withdrawal.

Meanwhile, Chu Zhao replayed Ling He’na’s words.

Earlier, after composing herself post-nausea, she’d returned to the living room.

Ling He’na had dropped a bombshell: “You’re pregnant.”

“What?”

Pregnant? Her?

The concept hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Ling He’na’s gaze dropped meaningfully. “So you didn’t know.”

“Whether you’re feigning ignorance or not, if Zhou Lan’s father finds out, that VP position vanishes. He despises pregnant executives.”

“Last time a VP got pregnant, he exiled her without hesitation.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

Many corporations discriminated against women and male Omegas for this very reason, fertility became a career obstacle.

Ling He’na wasn’t wrong. Zhou Xianling wouldn’t spare his own grandchild if it meant business efficiency.

Yet Chu Zhao struggled to believe she could be pregnant. Basic biology suggested otherwise—without marking, conception was near-impossible.

But today’s nausea coupled with two missed cycles…

Her periods had always been irregular—sometimes 45 days, sometimes 60. Treatment had failed to regulate them, so she’d stopped tracking.

Now, faced with these symptoms and Ling He’na’s accusation, doubt crept in.

Groping for her phone, she typed a search: Can you get pregnant without being marked?

Most results said no.

Just as she began to relax, she stumbled upon a medical Q&A platform. Paying 100 yuan, she consulted an OB-GYN.

The reply stunned her: One in ten thousand chances.

The doctor cited a foreign case where an unmarked Omega had conceived, causing paternity disputes until DNA confirmed the impossible.

Staring at the screen, Chu Zhao grappled with the implication—had she really hit that infinitesimal odds?

If—if—she was pregnant, what then?

Only a second’s hesitation preceded her resolve: abortion. A child conceived this way deserved no such fate.

Her and Zhou Lan? Impossible.

Neither came from happy families, why subject a child to that legacy?

If pregnant, she’d terminate. No question.

Meanwhile, in the neighboring room, Zhou Lan remained oblivious to the potential life growing inside the woman across the hall.