The Cannon Fodder Alpha Who Made the Heroine Pregnant - Chapter 68

68:

Zhou Lan had considered confessing directly, but she felt it was too abrupt. A relationship should at least start with a bouquet of flowers.

Besides, there was no guarantee Chu Zhao would agree.

Of course, she thought the chances of rejection were slim. Pursuing someone didn’t mean confessing right away.

Surprisingly, when dinner time arrived, Chu Zhao didn’t ask her to leave.

With a calm expression, Chu Zhao asked, “When are you leaving?”

Her voice was cool and clear, yet carried a soft undertone that made Zhou Lan’s heart flutter.

Chu Zhao’s natural coolness was innate, but the softness was not.

Zhou Lan’s heart melted. “On Monday will be my flight. If all goes well, I’ll be back in two days.”

At that moment, the caregiver brought in the meal, and Zhou Lan thoughtfully opened the food containers, arranging them neatly on the table.

Her gentle and considerate demeanor brought a smile to Chu Zhao’s eyes.

“Will you miss me?”

Before, Zhou Lan would have thought the question too bold, but she wanted Chu Zhao to know her feelings.

She didn’t want Chu Zhao to feel insecure or unhappy.

Likewise, her own world would feel overcast, like something was missing, leaving her restless.

Though they liked each other, both were novices in love and unsure of what to do.

Zhou Lan had even typed “how to pursue a goddess” into her search bar.

Responses:

1st Floor: Just confess directly. If it works, great; if not, move on to the next one.

2nd Floor: That’s so crude. Do you even really like her?

3rd Floor: Haven’t you watched TV? Why even ask?

4th Floor: Pursue? Lick her boots and end up with nothing.

5th Floor: Wow, you guys must’ve been hurt bad to be this cynical.

6th Floor: Look at the 4th Floor’s username, Please Accept My Flowers.

…

Zhou Lan: “…”

None of these were helpful. She’d have to figure it out herself.

Pursuing someone was all about…

Her brain nearly crashed from overthinking, yet she couldn’t come up with anything special.

Maybe it didn’t need to be special, just romantic.

Romantic to the point of devotion. No one disliked a sense of ceremony unless they didn’t like you.

Realizing this, Zhou Lan had a rough idea of what to do.

Hearing Chu Zhao ask about her trip, she impulsively asked, “Will you miss me?”

Chu Zhao froze, a faint blush spreading across her skin, showing she’d heard Zhou Lan’s words.

Her reaction boosted Zhou Lan’s confidence. Such a response meant Chu Zhao wasn’t indifferent to her.

Compared to others’ advice, her own feelings were far more real.

Emboldened by the sense of being liked, Zhou Lan spoke more freely.

The upside of never having been in a relationship was that she didn’t know any tricks, making her sincerity stand out.

Could she just ask Chu Zhao what kind of confession she wanted?

After much thought, she asked, in what she thought was a subtle way, “What should a confession involve?”

Chu Zhao’s heart skipped a beat. What could Zhou Lan mean by asking this?

It didn’t feel like a confession, yet it kind of did.

After a moment of uncertainty, she said, “Saying ‘I like you,’ I guess.”

A confession obviously required saying you liked someone. Otherwise, what was the point? Or maybe, “Be my girlfriend”? Something like that.

“I like you too.”

Zhou Lan had only meant to ask sincerely, but hearing Chu Zhao’s response, she couldn’t suppress the excitement in her heart and blurted out a confession.

She clearly knew that she liked Chu Zhao, a lot.

No matter when or where, as long as Chu Zhao was there, she was the first person Zhou Lan saw, and her attention stayed on her.

She’d confessed a few times before—initially to gain Chu Zhao’s trust, then because she truly liked her.

This time was different. She could clearly sense Chu Zhao’s happiness.

Chu Zhao was stunned at first but quickly understood what Zhou Lan meant.

In the past, she could ignore Zhou Lan’s feelings. Later, due to her own insecurities, she hadn’t responded. Now…

She wanted to agree, but thinking of the secret she was keeping, she hesitated.

She worried Zhou Lan might be with her out of responsibility for the child or get angry if she learned about the secret.

Zhou Lan knew the pregnancy stood between them. Without addressing it, Chu Zhao would struggle to open up.

She sat across from Chu Zhao and said gently, “Can we talk?”

“Mm.” Chu Zhao didn’t know what to discuss, only that she didn’t want Zhou Lan to leave.

Chu Zhao’s outward personality was cold, often wearing an icy expression as if to freeze people out, but her eyes were captivating.

When she stared directly, her gaze was full of emotion, like a seductive little fox. So she kept a stern, serious face to make people overlook her eyes.

But the way she looked at Zhou Lan was far from innocent or indifferent, it was practically a love letter.

Her stare made Zhou Lan feel warm, her thoughts wandering uncontrollably.

Having done it once, the second time felt familiar, and images flashed through her mind effortlessly.

She coughed lightly, shaking off those thoughts. She had serious things to discuss with Chu Zhao.

“I know you didn’t terminate the pregnancy. I overheard the nurse this morning.”

Chu Zhao opened her mouth to explain but hesitated, wondering if Zhou Lan’s confession was about taking responsibility.

Zhou Lan waited, but Chu Zhao said nothing. She continued, “I’ve said more than once that I like you. It has nothing to do with the child or any other reason. I just purely like you as a person.”

“You didn’t tell me you wanted to keep the child. I know my indifference toward it might have made you feel I don’t care about the child or you.”

“I thought I was respecting your choice, but that made you feel I didn’t care, didn’t it?”

“To me, the child is optional, but you—you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted in my twenty-plus years of life.”

She said, word by word, “I want you.”

Chu Zhao’s eyes locked onto hers, her heart racing like a startled deer, pounding irregularly.

Zhou Lan didn’t stop. “Childbirth can harm the mother’s body greatly. To me, nothing about the child outweighs you, which is why I seemed dismissive.”

“In fact, if I had my way, I wouldn’t want you to have the child. I don’t want you to do anything that could harm your body.”

In this world, such sentiments were rare, except perhaps in DINK (dual income, no kids) households.

This world placed immense value on lineage, treating children like heirs to a throne.

An Alpha saying such things was as rare as winning the lottery.

Chu Zhao always believed her body was her own to control.

She shouldn’t face society’s harsh judgment for being older, unmarried, or childless. Her body, her womb—why should it concern anyone else?

Yet, Zhou Lan’s words deeply touched her.

She didn’t respond for a long time, unprepared for Zhou Lan’s sudden confession, every word striking her heart.

Zhou Lan thought, since she’d started, she might as well lay everything bare for Chu Zhao.

She wanted to open herself up completely, letting Chu Zhao see her thoughts.

“The child is far less important than you. It’s not that I don’t care—I care too much. As long as you’re okay, the child doesn’t matter. If you terminate it, so be it, as long as you’re fine.”

Chu Zhao understood. Zhou Lan wasn’t indifferent.

Pregnant women overthink easily, their minds often beyond their control. Anything related to Zhou Lan made Chu Zhao lose her rational judgment, leading to constant caution.

She wasn’t guarding against Zhou Lan as a person but against her own fall, her growing feelings making her overthink and hesitate.

Insecure people tend to overthink, especially during pregnancy, always assuming the worst.

Zhou Lan had researched pregnancy extensively and, while not fully understanding Chu Zhao’s state, had a general sense.

She stared earnestly into Chu Zhao’s eyes, locking their gazes. “Chu Zhao, I like you. It’s kind of like where I want to be your partner, to spend my life with you.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“For the rest of our lives, let’s be there for each other until my last moment.”

Zhou Lan’s eyes were full of sincerity, wanting Chu Zhao to see her heart through them, her words perfectly aligned with her feelings.

Chu Zhao’s heart raced faster. Zhou Lan had made it clear: knowing about the child, her feelings weren’t about responsibility or anything else—just purely for her.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart leap with joy and longing.

It was like a dream. The worries that plagued her daily were resolved, and the person she wanted was within reach.

Was this really not a dream?

No, it was real. Zhou Lan was confessing to her. If she agreed, they’d become a real couple.

With that thought, Chu Zhao couldn’t hesitate anymore. She nodded slowly and said, “Okay~”

That single word changed their relationship. From that moment, they were officially a couple, despite the marriage certificate they already had.

To them, that certificate was insignificant. For Chu Zhao, it was a marriage to someone else.

For Zhou Lan, it wasn’t a certificate she’d gotten with Chu Zhao.

Both silently agreed they’d divorce and remarry someday.

Unable to hold back, Zhou Lan stood quickly to hug Chu Zhao but forgot about the coffee table between them. Her shin collided with it, the sharp pain bringing tears to her eyes, ready to spill.

Chu Zhao hurried over, lifting Zhou Lan’s skirt to check. A bruise was forming, making Chu Zhao’s heart ache.

Zhou Lan, however, blushed. What was she doing, lifting her skirt like that?!

She pulled Chu Zhao up and hugged her tightly.

Burying her face in Chu Zhao’s shoulder, her breath grazed her neck. “I’ve wanted to hold you for so long.”

Chu Zhao’s heart trembled, and she melted into Zhou Lan’s embrace.

They held each other for a long time, the familiar scents mingling, each carrying a trace of the other.

They were… truly together.