After The Mission Failed, The Scumbag Alpha Ran Away - Chapter 23

23: The System’s Incident

It was late spring, not yet hot, but the temperature in the room was steadily rising.

The scents of musk and cedar intertwined, blending indistinguishably in the sweltering heat.

The two pheromones had never been so harmonious before. Lou Huaiche and Jiang Youbai had known each other for so long, yet they had never gotten along so peacefully.

No confrontations, no quarrels or sharp retorts.

As tranquil as the most tender ordinary couple.

Jiang Youbai’s brows and eyes were relaxed, all her sharp edges deliberately concealed. She stretched out her arm, seductively resting it on Lou Huaiche ‘s shoulder, trembling as she exhaled: “Miss Lou, mark me.”

The radiantly beautiful woman nestled in Lou Huaiche ‘s embrace, her starlit eyes glistening with moisture like stars reflected on a lake. Her breath was fragrant, her face flushed, and her clear voice had softened immeasurably at some point.

Every movement Jiang Youbai made was bewitchingly beautiful, alluring and enchanting.

Lou Huaiche wrapped her arms around her, slowly releasing her pheromones. Only after confirming Jiang Youbai showed no discomfort did she increase the release.

The pheromones gradually soothed Jiang Youbai’s chaotic mind.

A peculiar sensation filled Lou Huaiche ‘s chest. After the sudden reversal of their roles and positions, the first thing she felt was novelty and exhilaration.

The Alpha in her arms seemed more like the vulnerable one, meekly exposing the back of her neck.

All the pain of being an Omega vanished completely at this moment.

The young Alpha cooperated obediently, displaying docility and compliance. All traces of her usual madness disappeared, replaced by an almost unnatural submissiveness, as if this sudden role reversal was entirely natural.

Though Lou Huaiche knew it was an illusion, she was captivated by it.

What a sweet sensation, sliding down her throat to her heart, mingling with her innate aversion to Alphas, luring her step by step into the trap named Jiang Youbai, sinking deeper into emotional turmoil.

Jiang Youbai clung to Lou Huaiche , her red lips slightly parted as she whispered a plea for a kiss: “Lou Huaiche , can you kiss me? I really like you.”

Madness.

Lou Huaiche ‘s heart raced. Her heat and their intimate contact left her intoxicated, her rationality inevitably drowning in the false sweetness.

She kissed Jiang Youbai. They cupped each other’s faces, each able to hear the other’s heartbeat.

A fleeting sense of love and tenderness flowed between them. Jiang Youbai suddenly found her own hypocrisy laughable.

Her natural talent for deception meant every movement was meticulously crafted, every angle presented to Lou Huaiche designed to appeal to her preferences.

Even in the haze of her heat, her scheming mind never stopped calculating the other’s sincerity. During a brief pause in their kiss, Jiang Youbai gasped for breath, her eyes flickering to the data panel floating before her.

[Jiang Youbai]: 15.

One played the role of a humble devotee, feigning devout submission.

The other, though seemingly ensnared, maintained a favorability of only 15.

Their bodies were entwined, but their emotions remained detached.

Jiang Youbai twirled a strand of Lou Huaiche ‘s hair around her finger, idly musing. An inexplicable, strange excitement simmered within her, growing fiercer.

The weather may seem fair, yet rain threatens.

Their tenderness was ambiguous, but the cold detachment in their hearts was unmistakable.

Two madwomen deceived each other with equal skill, blurring the lines between truth and falsehood, obscuring their true selves.

Jiang Youbai curled her lips in delight. She reveled in this thrill of teetering on the edge of danger, not needing to tread carefully but instead staking all her chips on the table, abandoning herself to the wild joy of unrestrained pleasure.

She was undoubtedly a lunatic, swaying on the brink of peril, recklessly flaunting her beauty and malice. Those who admired her beauty would inevitably receive her malice.

And Lou Huaiche ? Jiang Youbai thought bitterly, Lou Huaiche wanted neither her beauty nor her malice.

Lou Huaiche tore at her sanity. This madwoman always provoked her darkest side, transforming her into someone even Jiang Youbai didn’t recognize—a sinister stranger.

She wouldn’t wander the world filled with malice, nor did she need distractions to numb herself for happiness. Lou Huaiche stood wantonly in the shadows, smashing everything in sight. Amid the shattered fragments lay pieces of herself.

They were infatuated with each other’s reflections, drawing warmth like Narcissus gazing at his own image, yet refusing to offer even a sliver of genuine affection.

Casually spoken words of love were like candy tossed during a festival—only children would cherish them, pocketing them carefully.

Lou Huaiche ‘s amber eyes brimmed with infatuation. As she kissed Jiang Youbai, she traced her features with fascination, murmuring, “So beautiful.”

Beautiful Crown Prince, beautiful lies.

She adored the Crown Prince’s beauty and her lies.

In this dense sweetness, Lou Huaiche bit Jiang Youbai’s scent gland, marking her.

They didn’t take things further, stopping at kisses and marking.

What lay beyond that line, neither knew, and neither dared to cross it first.

After the marking, Jiang Youbai tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her voice hoarse: “Miss Lou, I’ll need your care from now on. During my pheromone instability, my heat cycles are unpredictable.”

Lou Huaiche looked up, her peach-blossom eyes clear: “Understood.”

Jiang Youbai smiled and leaned forward to nuzzle her forehead, thinking, What a worthy opponent.

A stalemate was even more exhilarating. Suppressing this inappropriate excitement, Jiang Youbai asked, “Got anything to eat? I’m hungry.”

Lou Huaiche said, “I made some sweet tofu pudding before you came.”

“Never had it.”

“Then try it.”

Jiang Youbai tidied herself up briefly and followed Lou Huaiche downstairs. Chi Ruo was still there, dutifully handling paperwork.

Seeing Jiang Youbai descend, she raised her tired eyes and scoffed, “Heartless boss.”

Jiang Youbai: “Breakfast is sweet tofu pudding. Want some?”

“Sure.”

The three sat at the table outside the kitchen. Jiang Youbai took a bite of the sweet tofu pudding and was overwhelmed by its cloying sweetness.

Chi Ruo shared her palate. If Jiang Youbai disliked something, Chi Ruo would too. Jiang Youbai swallowed the pudding calmly and smiled at Chi Ruo: “It’s pretty good. Try it.”

Unaware of the trap, Chi Ruo took a spoonful and immediately grimaced, nearly spitting it out but forced it down by her upbringing: “Jiang Youbai!”

Lou Huaiche asked, “Not good? Eat up, you two.”

Jiang Youbai and Chi Ruo set down their bowls, silent.

Tastes varied too widely to reconcile.

After breakfast, Chi Ruo left Jiang Youbai at the Lou residence and hurried off.

With the imperial succession discussions approaching, work grew increasingly hectic. Especially after their secret meeting the previous night, where they’d hastily drafted a new plan, Chi Ruo had to shuttle around urgently.

Lou Huaiche propped her chin on her hand and lazily asked Jiang Youbai, “Your Highness, your ambitions seem grand, but you lack the right timing, location, and people to match.”

Jiang Youbai’s expression remained unreadable: “Miss Lou, watch your words.”

She wasn’t keen on discussing this with Lou Huaiche , who still carried the suspicion of favoring Jiang Qingxian. From the system’s hints, Lou Huaiche was likely involved. The less said, the better—keeping her in the dark was safest.

Lou Huaiche glanced at Jiang Youbai. Sunlight spilled over her shoulders, illuminating the serene and elegant Crown Prince. No one meeting this refined figure would guess she was a madwoman.

The most terrifying lunatics were those born to deceive. Behind sweet words lurked daggers, ready to strike when least expected.

Jiang Qingxian was probably no match for such a person.

Though most in the imperial court favored the Crown Prince or Fourth Princess as successors, Lou Huaiche suspected the true victor would be Jiang Youbai.

Lou Huaiche didn’t linger. She stood to leave.

Jiang Youbai called after her: “Where are you going?”

“Filming. I still have a job.” Lou Huaiche paused, then added, “This loft is my space. No one usually comes here. As long as you stay on the second floor, no one will notice an extra person. Don’t wander.”

Jiang Youbai nodded in understanding.

She didn’t need Lou Huaiche to remind her—she’d naturally be discreet.

After Lou Huaiche left, Jiang Youbai went upstairs to rest.

Lou Huaiche had already registered her iris scan, so Jiang Youbai headed straight to the master bedroom.

She hadn’t slept well the previous night, having been woken early. The moment she hit the bed, she fell into a deep slumber.

When she awoke, she heard raised voices downstairs, growing louder by the minute.

Jiang Youbai checked the time—over four hours had passed. Lou Huaiche should have returned by now.

She opened the door and crept to the staircase, careful not to be seen, eavesdropping from the corner.

A woman’s shrill screams reached her ears: “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve divorced long ago! Why can’t you understand? Look at yourself—what kind of attitude is that toward your parents?”

Lou Huaiche ‘s cold, weary voice replied, “If you’re too cowardly to divorce, don’t blame me. Too scared to stand up to your Alpha, so you take it out on me instead?”

The rapid click of high heels suggested Lou Huaiche ‘s mother was pacing nervously. Her mocking tone grew sharper: “Look at what you’ve become! What kind of Omega acts like this?”

She repeated anxiously, “I’ve sacrificed so much for you, asking nothing in return. And you? All you do is defy me!”

Lou Huaiche silently endured her mother’s tirade.

Such reproaches were all too common. Though harsh, most parents said similar things.

The argument ceased. The clicking heels faded—Lou Huaiche ‘s mother must have left.

When Lou Huaiche came upstairs, she found Jiang Youbai sitting on the top step. Her expression remained neutral: “Had a fight with your mother?”

“Yeah. I parked poorly and crushed one of her flowers.”

A trivial matter, but it had triggered an explosive outburst from Lou Huaiche ‘s mother.

Jiang Youbai said nothing more.

She thought of her own mother—similarly volatile and prone to cruel tirades.

“Lucky you,” Jiang Youbai smirked self-deprecatingly. “Seems like mentally unstable people like me usually have mentally unstable mothers.”

Lou Huaiche , unusually, didn’t argue.

They sat in silence until Jiang Youbai spoke of her mother: “My mother was young. An Omega, forcibly marked by the Crown Princess and used as a tool to bear me. Every moment of her pregnancy was strictly monitored. She hated that life—and me.”

“As a child, though I lived in the palace, I often visited her.” Jiang Youbai’s tone was flat, devoid of inflection. “Back then, I hoped she could be my support, could love me. Eventually, I realized she truly didn’t love me. Her delicate hands couldn’t even support herself, let alone me.”

She didn’t elaborate.

After a pause, Lou Huaiche said softly, “It’s alright. That’s just how life is.”

Jiang Youbai smiled lightly. “When my mother had episodes, she often tried to strangle me. I found it unbelievable—how could a parent not love their child? Now I see it’s not an immutable truth.”

Though they’d stumbled upon a shared topic, neither felt inclined to delve deeper.

They quickly changed the subject. Lou Huaiche said, “Your Highness, you and the Fourth Princess—”

“We’re not close. Really not close.” Jiang Youbai sighed ruefully. “Besides, hearing you ask about someone else in front of me hurts.”

Jiang Youbai’s evasiveness left Lou Huaiche no room for probing. She ascended the steps and sat beside Jiang Youbai.

The stairwell was narrow, offering only a view of the landing and the paintings on the walls. Yet they sat there quietly for a long time.

In that confined space, everything felt suspended.

Suddenly, Jiang Youbai said, “My mother is dying.”

Lou Huaiche sincerely congratulated her: “Good. That’s good. Alive, you loved and hated her. Dead, you’ll neither love nor hate.”

Jiang Youbai rolled her eyes. “It’s not like an uncle dying.”

They leaned against each other, their breathing gradually synchronizing. Lou Huaiche also propped her chin on her hand. “I always thought my mother pitiful. I’m not close to my father. My mother loved me, truly poured her life into me. But my thoughts, actions, and words always ran counter to what she wanted me to be.”

Jiang Youbai listened quietly, then interjected, “Same. But my mother wished I were dead. To her, I was a mark of shame. Though it’s true, as a child, I couldn’t understand.”

Lou Huaiche continued, “She suffered many injustices as an Omega. Her marriage was mediocre—unhappy but enduring. When I grew older and formed my own opinions, at first I thought I was rebelling, opposing her deliberately. Later, I realized I wanted her to stand with me against those injustices.”

They spoke softly, each lost in their own thoughts.

Jiang Youbai said, “My mother wasn’t mentally stable. Never loved me, but didn’t hate me either? Just wanted me—the symbol of her suffering—dead. As if my death would cleanse her.”

They talked for a long time, meandering through fragmented memories. Their similar yet ordinary shared experiences brought them closer, if only momentarily.

Jiang Youbai thought faintly, No wonder Lou Huaiche is so unhinged.

How could Lou Huaiche not be?

Being hated by one’s mother was painful. Being both loved and hated was profound misfortune.

All the hatred had to be swallowed, the self-destructive blade turned inward, slicing away at what little sanity remained.

But in this era, all Omegas were like this.

As Ning Yunze said, one could either conform to the times, living as a senseless puppet, or refuse to be the vase that shatters upon impact.

They sat together for a long time until Jiang Youbai suddenly laughed. “We’re like a couple.”

Lou Huaiche , seemingly weary, waved a hand dismissively and took Jiang Youbai’s hand, examining it. “Whatever. Couples aren’t necessarily this intimate. Labels don’t matter.”

Jiang Youbai: “Oh? Then what does?”

“What matters is sitting together, leaning on each other—even if it’s fake.”

A comforting embrace, staunching the bleeding wounds, easing the imminent pain.

When they stood again, Lou Huaiche resumed her usual demeanor: “Your Highness, everyone has moments of confusion.”

Jiang Youbai remained seated, murmuring, “I know.”

A brief interlude of dependence, then separation—pretending it never happened, pretending they’d never relied on each other.

The fragments of themselves, shattered by others, were briefly pieced together in each other’s quiet company.

Setting aside the past, they stole a moment of peace.

Neither would take it seriously. Neither would remember it.

Afterward, they tacitly ignored the incident. Life marched on as usual, hurtling toward an uncertain future.

Jiang Youbai stayed at Lou Huaiche ‘s for four days. On the fourth day, after confirming her pheromones had stabilized, she promptly left.

Work was too hectic. Jiang Youbai struggled to maintain regular meals, let alone nurture her relationship with Lou Huaiche .

Moreover, the atmosphere between them had grown oddly strained since that day.

Jiang Youbai instinctively recoiled from such awkwardness.

The system remained absent. Jiang Youbai monitored its activity, hoping to discern a pattern, but it seemed to have vanished. After a few futile attempts to summon it, she gave up.

She poured all her energy into the covert struggle for imperial power.

The Emperor noticed her scheming and summoned her several times for veiled warnings.

Jiang Youbai deflected each with flawless composure.

When it came to his authority, the Emperor grew increasingly paranoid.

In his youth, he’d diligently groomed successors. But in old age, faced with younger contenders, pride gave way to jealousy.

Power would inevitably slip from his grasp. The Emperor’s mind clouded with suspicion, unwilling to relinquish control even momentarily.

He remarked casually to Jiang Youbai, “That Chi family girl is close to you, yet in the council, she keeps her distance. Very professional.”

Jiang Youbai kept her eyes downcast, ignoring the implication: “Chi Ruo enjoys fooling around with me. We were close as children, but that’s all. Not exactly confidantes.”

The Emperor studied her meaningfully. “Is that so? Yet she’s suddenly supporting the Fourth Princess. Quite surprising.”

Publicly, Chi Ruo was a staunch reformist. Though raised alongside Jiang Youbai as her intended ally, they’d grown apart as adults, often clashing. Chi Ruo associated mainly with Betas, leaving her and Jiang Youbai as friends in private but not in politics.

As the reformists’ most vocal advocate for Beta rights, Chi Ruo was effectively the Emperor’s own.

Thus, he didn’t view their bond as a threat, occasionally even teasing them to show affection.

Jiang Youbai played along cheerfully. Whenever the conversation turned to succession, she feigned ignorance, leaving no room for criticism: “Your Majesty, summer’s approaching. Will you attend the fireworks banquet this July?”

The Emperor, accustomed to her evasiveness, humored her: “It’s annual. Nothing special. Same old every year.”

Jiang Youbai said, “Ah, you’ve seen it all, but I look forward to it every summer.”

Getting nothing from her, the Emperor, his health declining, dismissed her. Facing his heirs’ vitality only highlighted his frailty.

His questions echoed the court’s confusion.

The Chi family had once backed the previous Crown Prince. Though Chi Ruo and Jiang Youbai had drifted, as a leading reformist, her sudden support for Jiang Qingxian before the succession discussions bewildered many, suggesting impending upheaval.

Even Jiang Qingxian was baffled, her inquiries met with evasion.

After the summer solstice, when the council proposed the succession motion, Chi Ruo’s actions grew more conspicuous.

Simultaneously, the previous Crown Prince’s remnants rallied on the satellites, rebelling at this critical juncture.

Their awkward status had long been the Emperor’s sore spot. Enraged, he collapsed once and berated his cabinet repeatedly.

None dared provoke the tyrannical Emperor, opting to wait and see.

Chi Ruo stepped forward, nominating Jiang Qingxian to suppress the revolt: “The Fourth Princess lived on the satellites and is the ideal candidate. Let her quell the rebels—perfect.”

With her leading the charge, the royalists seized the opportunity, interpreting the Emperor’s ambiguous silence as consent and clamoring louder.

Meanwhile, scandalous rumors about the Crown Prince’s late son surfaced online, spreading rapidly.

The Crown Prince’s public support plummeted amid allegations of assaulting Omegas.

Suddenly, the throne seemed Jiang Qingxian’s for the taking.

No one could rival her.

Yet the unexpected occurred.

In early June, the Emperor announced his successors.

This should have been the climax of the power struggle, setting the general direction and allowing factions to adjust accordingly.

The rest would wait for the Emperor’s death.

But he named two heirs: the ascendant Fourth Princess and the disgraced Crown Prince.

Then he ordered the Crown Prince to suppress the satellite rebellion.

The empire was stunned.

A successor was meant to stabilize the populace. But naming two? That wasn’t succession—it was chaos.

With two heirs, who would ascend if the Emperor died suddenly?

The factions now had renewed hope, ensuring fiercer infighting. The throne’s future grew ever murkier.

Only one thing was certain: the Crown Prince was truly out of favor. As first in line, she’d been entirely bypassed in the succession discussions—not even mentioned.

News spread swiftly through the capital. On the third floor of Fontainebleau, under the Lou family’s name, Jiang Youbai and Chi Ruo sat behind a screen on separate couches, pouring drinks in the dim light.

Jiang Youbai exhaled in relief: “It’s settled.”

Chi Ruo, visibly thinner, groaned: “Exhausting. Finally over. Any longer, and it would’ve been the end of me.”

She marveled, “In this world, no one understands your uncle better than you, his niece. Neither Crown Prince nor Princess holds a candle to you.”

Indeed.

Jiang Youbai smiled, sipping her wine: “When Lou Huaiche mentioned Jiang Qingxian was busy, I thought of this plan.”

The Emperor’s possessive grip on the throne had reached pathological levels. Any overstep would trigger his suspicion and silent vendettas.

Jiang Qingxian’s actions, in his eyes, were glaring.

Even if he’d initially favored her as successor, her rising popularity and prominence would stick in his craw.

Jiang Youbai had gambled on his paranoia—that despite sensing something amiss, he’d be unable to resist doubting her.

To the Emperor, his niece was the least likely heir—a beggar from the slums stood a better chance.

So she didn’t compete. By pulling the other two down, she reset the race, leaving everyone on equal footing post-discussions.

By stacking the odds in Jiang Qingxian’s favor, the Emperor would grow suspicious of her ambitions.

Had she backed the Crown Prince, his doubts wouldn’t have been as severe.

But Jiang Qingxian was an Alpha, raised off-world. The satellite rebellion erupted where she’d lived for twenty years. Under these influences, the Emperor deemed her unfit.

After targeting the Crown Prince, his distrust peaked. He’d agonize over whether Jiang Qingxian would treat his son well.

His own cruelty to his son was justified. But a successor’s cruelty? Unacceptable—a threat to the monarchy to be nipped in the bud.

Chi Ruo downed her drink: “Expected a strong reaction, but not this strong. Naming two successors is absurd—yet entirely in character.”

Jiang Youbai leaned back: “Soon, the empire will realize two heirs are worse than none. As Crown Prince and first in line, I’ll remain on equal footing.”

Chi Ruo nodded: “A risky move, but effective. Though we exposed some satellite allies.”

“No matter. It’s minor and will blow over. Had it been Pandora, the Emperor would’ve crushed it outright.”

Their celebration was brief—just a quick drink before parting.

As she left, Chi Ruo warned, “Someone might come for you soon—likely trouble. Be ready.”

“I know.”

Jiang Youbai didn’t expect the first visitor after the succession announcement to be Lou Huaiche , not Jiang Qingxian.

Their heats had stabilized over the past month, occurring every twelve days. Both were busy, meeting only twice, exchanging few words.

Lou Huaiche ‘s invitation puzzled her.

Her current favorability was 20, Jiang Qingxian’s 30—hardly a drastic difference to warrant such a reaction.

Besides, the succession was irrelevant to Lou Huaiche . Whoever sat on the throne didn’t concern her.

Puzzled, Jiang Youbai went to meet her.

Again at Fontainebleau’s second floor.

This time, Lou Huaiche arrived unusually early, as if waiting.

Blue roses adorned the table. Lou Huaiche toyed with one absently, her face shadowed, expression unreadable.

Entering, Jiang Youbai noted her demeanor and teased lightly: “Miss Lou, what brings you? Our cycles aren’t due for days.”

Lou Huaiche looked up, studying her, then frowned.

After their time apart, Jiang Youbai had reverted to their first meeting—polished, elegant, and smiling perpetually, like a puppet wearing the Crown Prince’s mask.

Lou Huaiche despised this version—lifeless, artificial.

Unfazed, Jiang Youbai sat.

Her return to routine had restored her equilibrium between herself and the Crown Prince. She seemed more suited to the imperial power struggles.

Without the mask, the real Jiang Youbai was uncontrollable, unpredictable.

Lou Huaiche cut to the chase: “Your Highness, Jiang Qingxian’s situation—your doing?”

Jiang Youbai denied instantly: “No. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“If you already have an answer, why ask?” Jiang Youbai smiled, eyes crinkling. “Here to confront me?”

Lou Huaiche ignored the question: “You shouldn’t have targeted Jiang Qingxian.”

Jiang Youbai studied her coldly, as if seeing her for the first time: “How strange. We’ve known each other a while—it’s like you’re meeting me anew. Truly, life is but a first encounter.”

“Jiang Qingxian isn’t a schemer,” Lou Huaiche interrupted.

Anger simmered in Jiang Youbai.

Jiang Qingxian wasn’t a schemer, but she was?

Was Jiang Youbai scheming by choice? Jiang Qingxian was pure as the moon, while she was the villain?

The capital was a swamp. None emerged untainted.

Jiang Youbai leaned in sharply: “Did I force Jiang Qingxian to vie for the throne? She’s already in the game—she can’t enter pristine and leave untouched. And why shouldn’t I target her? I’m not the Emperor’s daughter—no paternal bond to fall back on.”

“Besides,” she bared her teeth in a savage grin, “if you care so much, why didn’t you say so earlier? How was I to know she was off-limits? I was just—doing what I’ve always done, my dear Lou.”

Lou Huaiche was stumped.

She couldn’t answer.

By the seventh cycle, her impression of Jiang Qingxian stemmed mostly from the first life—a melancholic, frail, compassionate soul.

In her mind, Jiang Qingxian was unshakable, as if all the world’s luck converged upon her. Whether she willed it or not, everything tilted in her favor.

Moreover, Lou Huaiche harbored complex guilt toward her.

In the subsequent five cycles without her interference, Jiang Qingxian had smoothly ascended the throne.

Subconsciously, Lou Huaiche felt Jiang Youbai had no reason to oppose her.

A woman of such fortune, so amiable—making her an enemy was pointless.

Then Lou Huaiche froze, realizing her own thoughts.

She stared at Jiang Youbai, truly grasping for the first time what an unprecedented variable meant.

It meant instability. Every action was uncharted, every move a potential upheaval.

Jiang Youbai wouldn’t follow the script. By all prior accounts, she should’ve died long ago.

Thus, Lou Huaiche ‘s subconscious assumptions were untenable.

She reached out, touching Jiang Youbai’s nose, and laughed oddly.

“Your Highness, my mistake.” Lou Huaiche stood. “My mistake.”

Jiang Youbai: “Huh?”

Baffled: “I was ready for a full-blown fight. Why the sudden apology?”

Lou Huaiche said, “Never mind. There’ll be other chances. But now—I think you’re right. Keep going.”

Keep going, stirring the world, altering fate’s course.

Jiang Youbai frowned: “You’re acting strange today.”

Indeed. Her words carried an eerie certainty, then abruptly shifted. Even for a madwoman, this was erratic.

An unseen thread seemed to weave through the world.

As Jiang Youbai pondered, the long-absent system spoke: “Host.”

Startled, she diverted her attention: “You’re back?”

The system’s flat tone announced: “Checking mission progress.”

Jiang Youbai glanced at the panel—her favorability was 20.

“Going well. Smooth sailing.”

The system said, “Further verification needed.”

Seconds later, blinding pain exploded in Jiang Youbai’s skull. Even her composure shattered as she cried out, clutching her head and slamming it against the table.

The agony was overwhelming, spreading through her body in seconds. Her face drained of color, sweat beading on her brow as she thrashed uncontrollably.

Within moments, her forehead was drenched—

Cold sweat dripped down.

The system’s voice was exceptionally cold: “After detection, within one month, the host has only interacted with the antagonist twice, judged as insufficiently proactive in completing tasks, and thus punished.”

Jiang Youbai gritted her teeth in pain, on the verge of passing out.

However, the system employed some method—despite the agony wracking her body to the point of slight convulsions, her consciousness remained utterly clear.

Lou Huaiche was startled by her sudden change and quickly supported her, placing a hand on her forehead to prevent her from hitting her head in the throes of pain: “Your Highness, Your Highness?”

A ringing filled Jiang Youbai’s ears, and the world spun before her eyes from the pain, bringing waves of dizziness.

She curled up in agony, her mind repeatedly fixating on the system’s words.

“Within one month, only interacted with the antagonist twice, judged as insufficiently proactive in completing tasks, and thus punished.”

In her extreme clarity of mind, Jiang Youbai forced herself to ignore the pain, turning those words over and over in her thoughts.