The Cannon Fodder Alpha Who Made the Heroine Pregnant - Chapter 70

70:

On the plane, Zhou Lan’s mind was filled with thoughts of Chu Zhao. Having just started their relationship, they had to part for several days. After only a few hours, her longing was already overwhelming.

As new lovers, the sudden shift in their relationship left them both a bit at a loss.

The mix of awkwardness and sweetness was undeniable, though sweetness prevailed.

That night, Chu Zhao let her feel the little life in her belly—a magical, moving experience beyond words.

Before, Zhou Lan hadn’t cared much about whether the child stayed or went. But feeling its presence sparked a sense of anticipation in her.

Chu Zhao had her place a hand on her belly, not for any other reason but to let her experience the existence of this tiny life.

For someone not carrying the child, it was hard to grasp that unique feeling.

Chu Zhao whispered in her ear, “At first, my thoughts about her were simple—terminate the pregnancy.”

“But the doctor said it might help my mother make up for the regrets of my childhood, possibly improving her condition. That was the main reason I decided to keep her.”

“However, before I knew you weren’t that person, the idea wasn’t that strong. My first choice was still to let her go.”

“It was only after learning your true identity that I made my decision.”

“Telling you I’d terminated the pregnancy and having you sign the consent form was all to test your attitude. Your reaction made me think you didn’t want the child, so I didn’t tell you right away that I kept her. I’m sorry.”

After talking with Sang Xia, Chu Zhao had wanted to find a chance to explain everything to Zhou Lan.

But Zhou Lan had learned the truth herself, and Chu Zhao could guess why her demeanor had changed that morning.

Putting herself in Zhou Lan’s shoes, she wondered what she would have done.

Ultimately, neither had the standing to demand anything from the other. A so-called “honest talk” could easily turn into a farce, so it had dragged on until now.

Logically, now that they were together and Zhou Lan hadn’t shown any displeasure, they could let it pass.

But Chu Zhao still decided to clear the air. Words from others weren’t the same as her own.

Zhou Lan withdrew her hand, leaning side by side with Chu Zhao on the bed, and said softly, “I never expected you to open up to me like this.”

Chu Zhao’s personality made it hard for her to explain herself. She’d rather keep things bottled up and be misunderstood than speak.

Her willingness to explain this time was surprising.

It showed Chu Zhao truly cared about her. Zhou Lan’s heart warmed, a smile spreading across her face.

Chu Zhao wasn’t done. “The first time she moved, I was stunned. It was the first time I truly felt her inside me.”

“Sometimes, a moment is all it takes to touch someone.”

“Later, her movements became more frequent. Whenever I was in a bad mood, she’d move, as if reminding me, ‘Mom, I’m here with you.’”

As Chu Zhao spoke, she radiated maternal warmth, gentle as water.

Her heart was inherently kind and soft, but she masked it with coldness to protect herself.

This was likely the first time she’d shown such tenderness in front of Zhou Lan.

“She’s our child.”

Zhou Lan’s words prompted a shared glance, both their hearts warming.

Lying together, they had no amorous thoughts—only anticipation for the child and their future life together.

…

On the plane, Zhou Lan’s thoughts of that night’s conversation deepened her longing.

The twelve-hour flight meant it would be morning in Hollens when she arrived. A nap on the plane, dropping her luggage at the hotel booked by her senior, Daisy, and she could dive into work.

Her task was simple: during the recording, ensure Daisy’s emotions were on point and discuss the MV’s storyline with the director.

Daisy believed Zhou Lan, as the song’s creator, understood its story deeply, enhancing its presentation.

Though not the lead track in Daisy’s album, a singer of her caliber pursued perfection in every song, not just because Zhou Lan was her junior.

This was an opportunity for Zhou Lan to become a musician of her previous life’s caliber.

This body was the same age as in her past life, and who knew in which world she’d achieve more.

But she was in this world now, with no way back.

Waiting for Chu Zhao to wake from her nap, Zhou Lan sent a message right on time.

—Rest well?

The plane’s Wi-Fi was decent, streaming movies without lag.

After chatting with Chu Zhao, she’d sleep.

Receiving Zhou Lan’s message, Chu Zhao’s lips curved, her mood visibly bright.

—Mm.

—You? Not sleeping yet?

Knowing Zhou Lan would jump into work upon arrival, Chu Zhao thought she should nap on the plane.

—Waiting for you to wake and say hi, then I’ll sleep.

Chu Zhao’s heart stirred. It was an ordinary sentence, but picturing Zhou Lan waiting obediently warmed her.

—Okay.

In the early days of love, longing overflowed, and romantic words begged to be shared, yet shyness held them back.

The initial bashfulness of a relationship was universal. As they grew more comfortable, words would flow freely.

Awkwardness had its own sweetness, a phase that wouldn’t last long.

Being women in love, progress was slow—others might be breaking beds while they were still holding hands after a year.

With Chu Zhao’s reserved nature, without a catalyst, their dynamic would hardly change.

Still, Zhou Lan enjoyed their current state. Now that they were together, their mutual care was far closer than before.

Compared to before, she was far happier now.

Zhou Lan asked about Chu Zhao’s checkup in detail, relieved to hear she was nearly fully recovered, before reluctantly putting down her phone.

She finally understood how new couples could chat all night. She wanted to keep talking forever.

But Chu Zhao had to exercise, and Zhou Lan needed sleep to be alert for work.

This past month, besides staying with Chu Zhao, Zhou Lan hadn’t paused her career.

Many domestic companies and singers sought her songs, but their offers were too low.

A song for six or seven hundred thousand yuan? Despite Get Lost Band and her own album proving her talent, few showed real sincerity.

She wasn’t stingy with her songs, collaborating with singers whose voices fit and who showed genuine interest.

Surprisingly, Hua Qiao wanted her to craft an album tailored for Chu Yue’s girl group, CYC.

Hua Qiao scheduled a meeting to discuss details once Zhou Lan returned.

Seeing Hua Qiao’s message, Zhou Lan realized she hadn’t told Chu Zhao she was Ming Xiao Zhou.

But Chu Zhao wasn’t interested in Ming Xiao Zhou, and Hua Qiao, as music director, handled everything music-related.

With Chu Yue’s funds improving, Hua Qiao secured the budget she needed.

An album with twelve songs, tailored by Zhou Lan, would cost ten million.

Buying the songs alone cost that much, not to mention recording, filming, promotion, and performances. Chu Zhao’s approval of Hua Qiao’s plan showed her high expectations for CYC.

Even if it wasn’t for Chu Zhao, Zhou Lan wouldn’t have declined Hua Qiao. If not for this trip, they’d have already met.

Thinking of Chu Zhao and her upcoming work, Zhou Lan drifted off to sleep.

The plane’s announcement woke her, groggy. It took a moment to realize she was on a plane.

It was 9:30 a.m. in Hollens, a twelve-hour time difference from home. She’d left in the morning and arrived in the morning, feeling disoriented.

Daisy sent a driver to pick her up. After dropping her luggage at the hotel and showering, she headed to the recording studio.

First meetings after a long flight could be tiring, so a shower was both refreshing and courteous.

The hotel was nearby—ten minutes on foot, three by tram, or one subway stop.

If all went smoothly, she’d finish recording today, discuss the MV’s storyline with the team tomorrow, and stay one more day. If free, she’d go shopping.

Her shopping list was half for Chu Zhao, a quarter for the baby, and the rest for herself.

Some instruments and professional equipment weren’t available domestically.

These could be shipped, or handled by professionals. The issue was her rented apartment in China was too small to hold everything.

Plus, after Chu Zhao’s discharge, they’d move to Luoan, and Zhou Lan would follow.

So, she needed to buy a house in Luoan, big enough for her instruments.

A workroom, bedroom, nursery, Chu Zhao’s study, a room for the nanny—at least five or six rooms, likely 300 square meters.

In Luoan, a 300-square-meter house cost at least 40–50 million. She couldn’t afford it outright, but a down payment was doable.

Future mortgage payments, raising a child, and ensuring a high-quality life for her and Chu Zhao meant she had to keep earning.

As for the house, Hua Qiao, now in Luoan with Chu Yue, could help scout. Zhou Lan could start renovations upon her return.

She’d been in this world too briefly, with preparations rushed, but thankfully, her career and relationship were progressing smoothly, without chaos.

Imagining their family of three in their new home, Zhou Lan couldn’t help but grin under the sunlight.

If only the child could grow up and be independent instantly, they wouldn’t have to share space, and she and Chu Zhao could enjoy their time.

With a child, apart from date nights, couple time would be rare.

They’d just started dating, and the baby wasn’t even born, yet she was already imagining what they’d be like when the child grew up.

Of course, she didn’t resent the child—she just wanted more alone time with Chu Zhao.