Chapter 3: Pregnant with Lu Zhou’s Child
Never in the entertainment industry had an artist personally rolled up their sleeves to brawl like this, and never had a group disbanded only for a member to start publicly throwing hands on Weibo a few days later.
Everyone was flabbergasted by Nan Zhou’s wildly aggressive move, eagerly tuning in to gorge on the drama.
“Has Nan Zhou completely lost his mind?!”
“Couldn’t cling to our Brother’s coattails anymore, so now you’re throwing a tantrum, huh? Shameless scumbag, get the fuck out of showbiz!”
“…First, he checks into the Omega clinic with rumors flying that he’s pregnant, and right after that, he publicly cusses out his former CP partner on Weibo. Bold guess: Nan Zhou is pregnant with Lu Zhou’s kid!”
“Fuck off! Pregnant with your mom’s kid! Drop dead, rumor-monger! Reported!”
“During their two years together, has this scheming white lotus not sucked enough blood from our Brother?! You ugly thing, have some decency and follow our Brother’s lead by showing a little mutual respect, will you?!”
“Lu Zhou’s fans are a riot. The garbage your Brother pulled doesn’t exactly scream ‘showing mutual respect.'”
Meanwhile, having just dropped Nan Zhou off at his apartment, Hao Jia immediately got a call from one of his subordinates.
By the time he finished listening, he felt utterly sick to his stomach.
Hurriedly hanging up, he opened Weibo. A single glance drained all the color from his face.
Looking up at the culprit standing right in front of him, he was completely at a loss for words.
After dropping two bombshell posts on Weibo without a single word of warning, Nan Zhou was acting like nothing had happened at all. Stepping into the apartment, he had the casual leisure to look around and inspect the place.
It was just a studio apartment under seventy square meters that he’d lived in for nearly two years—what on earth was there to inspect?!
Hao Jia took two deep breaths, reminding himself to stay calm. After all, his best friend had just gone through a breakup, betrayal, and a chaotic mess of getting slept with and marked by a wild Alpha. It was only natural that he was emotionally unstable…
“Master Zhou, my little ancestor,” Hao Jia began, “are there any other things you’re planning that are going to make me panic? Could you tell me all of them in one breath so I can mentally prepare myself?”
Nan Zhou didn’t answer.
“Zhou—”
“Do I have to stay here today?”
“Huh?”
“I want to move to another apartment.”
Hao Jia frowned. “Move where?”
Nan Zhou looked at him, his tone as casual as if he were remarking on the weather. “Move to one of my other apartments in the city center. A villa works too.”
Hao Jia: “…”
It was over. Something had gone wrong with his best friend—something catastrophic.
Hao Jia walked up to Nan Zhou, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and snapped them open, slamming both hands down heavily onto his friend’s shoulders.
“Wake up.”
“You don’t have another apartment, let alone a villa. You only have this place.”
“Six thousand five hundred a month in rent.”
The corner of Nan Zhou’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, as if startled by his own sheer poverty.
“Aren’t I a popular idol?”
“…Is this your first day under contract? Wait, if it were, you’d know that when you signed with the agency, you treated money like dirt! You settled for a pitifully meager cut just so you could work alongside that scumbag Lu Zhou!”
“…”
In that instant, only five words echoed through Nan Zhou’s mind:
Is this guy an idiot?!
Pressing a hand to his forehead, he paused and asked calmly, “How many years are left on the contract?”
“It’s a three-year deal. It expires next month.”
“How much do I have in savings?”
Having entirely given up on any hope of recovery, Hao Jia rolled his eyes and slumped onto the sofa. “What savings? Every cent you earned over the past few years went straight into fawning over Lu Zhou. You don’t have a penny left!”
Nan Zhou: “…”
Sitting down on the other end of the couch, he said, “The dating show you mentioned in the car… the penalty fee…”
“Three million.”
Silence fell over the apartment for a solid thirty seconds.
Nan Zhou asked, “Will you pay it for me?”
This manager is surprisingly nice.
The living room fell quiet once more.
Two minutes later, Hao Jia spoke in a faint, sheepish voice. “I don’t have the money. Look, weren’t all my worries for your sake…? I was worried that if you went on that dating show with Lu Zhou…”
Nan Zhou cut him off. “Your starting point was good, but don’t start.”
“…”
“Beggars can’t be choosers. You might want to starve to death, but I still want to live.”
Hao Jia: “…Wait, do you really have to talk like that?!”
“Is there a problem?”
Hao Jia opened his mouth to retort, but Nan Zhou beat him to it. “I’ve always talked like this. Questioning me only proves you don’t know me well enough. Since you’re my friend, you should understand me and accept me.”
Hao Jia: “…”
Why does that actually make sense?!
Wait, no!
Is he gaslighting me?!
Before taking his leave, Hao Jia repeatedly drilled it into Nan Zhou not to wander outside, and if at all possible, to please refrain from throwing tantrums on Weibo.
Even though their group had been pretty low-tier, ever since Lu Zhou and Wen Yu officially went public, Nan Zhou had been hit with one smear campaign after another. Even casual passersby who didn’t know who he was before now knew him for his terrible reputation.
There was another reason Hao Jia didn’t dare bring up:
With the way Nan Zhou was talking right now, stepping outside would easily get him beaten up.
“Oh, right,” Hao Jia added. “You have a magazine shoot scheduled in three days. I’ll pick you up then. Don’t forget.”
God help me, please let Nan Zhou be normal three days from now.
Three days later, Hao Jia called Nan Zhou from downstairs outside the apartment, only to be met with an automated message saying the phone was powered off.
A jolt ran through his heart, and he bolted upstairs.
Before sliding the spare key into the door, Hao Jia was already picturing the grim scenes of bowing in apology and paying hefty compensations for missing the shoot and breaching the contract.
…Nan Zhou had been as quiet as a dormouse for the past three days, causing zero trouble and never leaving the apartment, which had actually let him breathe a sigh of relief.
And now this—
Taking a deep breath, Hao Jia pushed the door open and peered inside, instantly reeling from the visual shock.
Wh-what was this?!
In broad daylight, the curtains were drawn tight, turning the room into total darkness. The only source of light came from the faint glow of a laptop screen on the sofa.
The coffee table was littered with takeout trash, the floor was covered in tangled quilts and scattered clothes, and there was even an unfamiliar guitar leaning beside the sofa.
And on the couch, behind the solitary light source, Nan Zhou sat with a nest of messy hair, bundled up inside the black overcoat he had brought back three days ago, his fingers clattering away at the keyboard like a zombie.
Hao Jia: “…”
Glancing toward the only clean spot in the room—the large bed in the corner, where the sheets were so pristine they didn’t even have a wrinkle—he cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you sleep in bed?”
Asking was pointless; anyone could see that Nan Zhou likely hadn’t slept at all!
Nan Zhou didn’t answer, his fingers continuing to clack away tirelessly at the keys.
Only when Hao Jia stepped up to him did he finally stop.
With a snap, he shut the laptop. Nan Zhou’s gaze met Hao Jia’s halted steps.
Quiet lingered between them for a beat.
A moment later, Nan Zhou spoke. “Can’t sleep.”
Guilt instantly washed over Hao Jia.
Right. After going through all that mess, how could he possibly sleep well?
It was his fault for not showing enough care as his manager.
Just as he was about to offer some comfort, he heard Nan Zhou add:
“If you were this poor, you wouldn’t be able to sleep either.”
Hao Jia: “…” Thanks, I sleep like a baby.
“Even if you aren’t sleeping, you could at least change your clothes…” he mumbled.
He had been wearing that black trench coat for three days straight…
Come to think of it, when did Nan Zhou even buy that coat? He had never seen it before.
Thinking this, Hao Jia instinctively reached down to pull at Nan Zhou’s coat.
“Don’t touch it. Your scent will get on it.” Nan Zhou shifted aside to dodge his hand, murmuring, “I feel awful. This coat is the only thing making me feel a little better.”
Hao Jia froze.
Catching a glimpse of bare skin beneath the coat, he realized that Nan Zhou was probably… completely naked underneath.
After an Omega is marked, they develop an intense reliance on the Alpha who marked them for a period of time.
If separated from their Alpha during this window, the Omega would feel miserable.
The higher the rank of the Alpha who marked them, the more severe this discomfort would be—even with just a temporary mark.
The Washed-Up Star Went Unfiltered and Became a Sensation on a Dating Reality Show
