After The Mission Failed, The Scumbag Alpha Ran Away - Chapter 26

26: Ning Yunze, What Are You Doing?

The summer breeze blew leisurely, carrying a faint warmth.

The cheerful laughter of students downstairs drifted through the trees into the classroom, forming a stark contrast with the frozen atmosphere inside.

Lou Huaiche and Jiang Youbai’s hair were slightly tousled by the wind. Jiang Youbai’s strands obscured her vision, partitioning the almost petrified tension between them.

She raised her hand to tuck the stray locks behind her ear, revealing her dark, star-like eyes and her pale, delicate face. Jiang Youbai slowly lifted her gaze to meet Lou Huaiche’s enchanting peach-blossom eyes.

It was hard to describe Jiang Youbai’s current emotions—it felt as if someone had crumpled her into a ball and carelessly tossed her to the ground.

She knew their relationship couldn’t remain unchanged like this forever. Sooner or later, one of them would have to step away from this facade of peace.

She just hadn’t expected the moment of truth to come so soon, nor for Lou Huaiche to be so ruthless.

Under Lou Huaiche’s icy stare, Jiang Youbai sighed softly.

One moment ago, she had been thinking that since she was indulging herself, why not revel in the fleeting joy without worrying about the future?

The next second, she was brutally awakened from that illusion.

Lou Huaiche lowered her eyes and calmly met Jiang Youbai’s gaze. Suddenly, Jiang Youbai smiled, radiant as a blooming flower: “Miss Lou, what if I said I got caught in my own act and accidentally fell for you?”

She didn’t deny the implications of their earlier words.

Lou Huaiche froze, unwilling to face the meaning behind those words.

Jiang Youbai drew out her tone, speaking softly: “Then what about you, Lou Huaiche? If you care so much now, can you honestly say you haven’t felt anything at all? Are you truly blameless?”

Her voice was as clear and cool as a flowing stream.

Jiang Youbai heard Lou Huaiche interrupt her without hesitation, each word falling clearly into her ears: “Your Highness, I can honestly say I haven’t felt anything at all.”

“Not even for a moment,” Lou Huaiche emphasized.

The atmosphere between them seemed to freeze over, as if those brief moments of comfort and closeness had been nothing but a dream.

What a heartless person.

Jiang Youbai thought faintly—just like herself, yet completely different.

Feigned love could deceive others and even oneself, but it could never deceive Lou Huaiche.

Jiang Youbai lowered her eyes and tapped the desk with her slender fingers: “Lou, there’s still a lot of math homework. Are you going to finish it or not?”

What was this? Pretending everything was fine? Acting as if their earlier confrontation hadn’t happened, so they could continue as before?

Lou Huaiche was irritated and didn’t want to entangle herself further with Jiang Youbai.

August was approaching. After August, it would be the beginning of all her misfortunes, with unimaginable disasters befalling her.

After that, it could be four or five years, or as little as two. Once she passed her twenty-fourth birthday, she could die at any moment.

She didn’t want to confront her own heart. Originally, a weed had grown inside her, wild and unruly, sapping her vitality and blooming with astonishing vigor.

After countless cycles of rebirth, that weed had long been burned to ashes.

Now, if a new sprout emerged, it would only be consumed by flames once more.

Don’t lose yourself, Lou Huaiche reminded herself.

You are doomed to die. When you face your eighth rebirth, with a heart drowned in love, how despairing would you be?

Moreover, Jiang Youbai, who had never appeared in the previous six cycles—would she still be there in the eighth?

Her survival now was due to a series of miracles. Would such miracles happen again in the eighth cycle?

Guard your heart. Don’t fall in love.

Don’t wait until the bitter fruit ripens, only to swallow it with bl00d and tears.

Lou Huaiche asked Jiang Youbai quietly: “Your Highness, we both know one thing—you’re not sincere, and I’m not so infatuated. Why bother?”

Jiang Youbai sat at her desk and smiled. But after smiling, she didn’t know how to answer that question.

“Let’s stop here, before we both lose ourselves completely.”

Jiang Youbai heard herself let out a faint “Mm.”

Just like in the past, acquiescing to all the oppression in her life.

It seemed different from before, but she didn’t know how.

Jiang Youbai had always been a smiling devil. She deceived everyone with her false, gentle facade, waiting to drag her targets into the abyss.

Those who had humiliated her and Chi Ruo, the restless remnants of the Crown Princess’s faction, all those who had tried to harm her over the years…

One year, two years, even five or ten—no matter how long it took, she patiently lurked in the shadows, coldly watching those people, then made them vanish silently from this world.

All her true intentions were carefully concealed, every move calculated. This was what Jiang Youbai had done all her life.

The only exception was Lou Huaiche.

It was Lou Huaiche who approached her first, with an irresistible and alluring invitation to go crazy together.

Without time or preparation, Jiang Youbai had boarded this hell-bound express train.

Jiang Youbai had deceived so many people, bewitched so many, and in the end, she had even bewitched herself.

When pretending to be sincere, how could she be sure she hadn’t invested real feelings?

Lou Huaiche turned and left the classroom. Jiang Youbai watched her walk away step by step.

After this unpleasant parting, Lou Huaiche thought Jiang Youbai would retreat. Even if they didn’t cut ties immediately, their relationship should have cooled significantly.

Before coming to school the next day, Lou Huaiche guessed Jiang Youbai wouldn’t show up.

After all, it was troublesome for a royal to attend classes regularly. Jiang Youbai didn’t need to keep taking that risk.

But as soon as she entered the classroom, she saw Jiang Youbai sitting there, wearing a white blouse and plaid skirt, holding a stack of Lou Huaiche’s incorrect math problems. She tossed them onto Lou Huaiche’s desk: “Take a good look at how you got these wrong. Before the next monthly exam, I’m not asking you to pass, but at least aim for sixty, okay?”

Lou Huaiche: “…”

Faced with shattered emotions and self-identity, she now had to confront her disastrous math homework.

She wanted to say something, but she didn’t have the energy to maintain her aloof demeanor. After a dazed pause, she sat down and picked up her pen to start working on the math problems, falling into Jiang Youbai’s rhythm.

It almost felt like yesterday’s unpleasantness had been a figment of Lou Huaiche’s imagination, and Jiang Youbai’s slow response had been an illusion.

Jiang Youbai tapped the desk. A semi-transparent panel had been floating in front of her. She glanced at it casually.

[Jiang Youbai]: 50.
[Darkening Value]: 10.

This darkening value had appeared suddenly last night.

Jiang Youbai had never fully trusted this favorability panel. How could human emotions be measured by data? Some love was as shallow as thin ice, melting at a touch, while others’ feelings were as vast as the ocean, unfathomably deep.

Reducing emotions to numerical values seemed even more absurd.

It had some reference value, but that value was as useful as the pictures on packaging—merely for show.

The darkening value was what Jiang Youbai truly cared about.

According to the system, the darkening value appeared because “the cannon fodder scumbag Alpha Jiang Youbai” had abandoned Lou Huaiche after toying with her feelings. But now, Jiang Youbai hadn’t even reached a full hundred favorability points. How could Lou Huaiche suddenly have a darkening value of 10?

Even without these numerical changes, Jiang Youbai would have stayed by Lou Huaiche’s side to uncover the system’s true nature.

But the system’s appearances were too random. Apart from a panel displaying Lou Huaiche’s stats, she knew nothing else.

Many silent battles were fought over information. Without information, there was no chance of winning. Jiang Youbai was at a loss, forced to stay close to Lou Huaiche in hopes of finding a breakthrough.

The system provided too little information—not even enough to form a complete logical chain.

Jiang Youbai sat quietly, watching Lou Huaiche. She noticed Lou Huaiche had gotten two out of three multiple-choice questions wrong. After a moment of silence, she asked: “Is math really that hard?”

Lou Huaiche said: “It’s alright. Not deadly.”

Apparently, it really was that hard.

Jiang Youbai couldn’t help but laugh, her crimson lips curling into a faint smile: “Miss Lou, there’s a fireworks festival at the end of July in Central Square. Do you want to go?”

Such events were usually for couples to attend together.

On Pandora’s summer nights, meteor showers were frequent. Under the grand, dazzling fireworks, many couples would make promises to stay together forever beneath the starry sky—romantic and beautiful.

Lou Huaiche’s hand paused slightly as she wrote.

End of July. After the end of July would be August.

A cursed word.

For many, July meant summer nights, feasts, and all things beautiful.

But for Lou Huaiche, it was the inevitable beginning of her fate, the end of her peaceful life.

She should have refused. But as if possessed, Lou Huaiche said to Jiang Youbai: “Sure. But does Your Highness have that much free time?”

Jiang Youbai: “I should be fine. What about you? Aren’t you filming anymore?”

Lou Huaiche froze for a moment: “No. After the last one, I won’t be filming anymore.”

There was no point.

Trouble would find her one way or another. Filming would only drain her energy, leaving her unable to cope.

Jiang Youbai frowned, surprised, but didn’t show it. She counted on her fingers and said with a smile: “During the fireworks festival, there’s also a lantern display. Central Square will have lots of food stalls, many of them free. Have you ever been?”

Lou Huaiche rolled her eyes: “Your Highness, anyone from the capital has been there.”

Jiang Youbai was taken aback. After a pause, she smiled: “Really? When I was little, I couldn’t leave the palace. When I got older, I was often bullied, locked up, or grounded. Going to the fireworks festival was my biggest wish.”

“Oh? You couldn’t go later either?”

“Too busy. I’ve only been twice. Once, I was called back halfway. The other time, I was only this tall.” Jiang Youbai gestured to a height around half her own. “I sneaked out but didn’t get to enjoy it. All I saw were legs and the backs of people’s heads. I didn’t have fun and ended up tired and sleepy. I got separated from the Chi family and almost got killed.”

Her tone was calm, but her words carried a sense of danger.

It wasn’t hard to imagine how difficult her past life had been.

Lou Huaiche changed the subject, teasing her: “Even after all that, you still just want to have fun?”

“Yep,” Jiang Youbai said cheerfully, gesturing to Lou Huaiche. “Fireworks, meteor showers, bustling crowds, and free food—I’ve been dreaming about it since I was a kid.”

To most in the capital, these were mundane things they were tired of. But to Jiang Youbai, they were a long-cherished dream.

Lou Huaiche couldn’t help but say: “Then this year, I’ll take you. I go every year. I know which stalls are good and which aren’t.”

“That’s great.” Jiang Youbai smiled, her eyes sparkling.

At this moment, the princess seemed vividly alive, not like a puppet controlled by imperial power.

The two of them spent the next few days peacefully, tacitly avoiding the earlier conflict.

Before even ten days of July had passed, the eldest prince returned from the satellite, victorious in quelling the rebellion. He had even captured the rebel leader and brought him back.

The emperor was overjoyed. He had spent his life under his elder sister’s shadow. When she was alive, he couldn’t escape her. After her death, she still haunted him. Any victory over her, even just over her remnants, filled him with glee.

Rewards flowed like water into the eldest prince’s residence. Not only that, the emperor granted him a substantive position—not some trivial role in the Health Bureau or the Museum of Flora and Fauna, but a real post as captain of the Capital Patrol Team 021.

This position wasn’t particularly high-ranking, but it wasn’t insignificant either. He commanded an armed patrol of a thousand, with the authority to inspect various businesses at will. Many nobles bribed patrol captains for convenience.

The scales of the throne began tipping toward the eldest prince. Recently, Jiang Qingxian’s days in the capital had grown bleak.

She had no foundation in the capital, only the vague support of some royalists. Without real power, the capital’s nobles—often like weathervanes—shifted with the wind. Now, it was Jiang Qingxian’s turn to be trampled.

If the eldest prince had stayed humble, things might have been fine. But suddenly, he grew arrogant, his tail held high.

The crown prince’s second son, after drinking, took his lover shopping and fancied a ring Jiang Qingxian had custom-made. When she refused to hand it over, he actually fought her.

Jiang Qingxian was frail and had only brought two or three attendants to pick up the ring. She ended up taking a few solid punches.

The incident blew up. Within hours, rumors and speculation spread throughout the noble circles. But all factions held their ground, waiting to see how things unfolded—especially the emperor’s reaction.

The crown prince didn’t apologize immediately. Instead, he waited two or three days before leisurely visiting the Crown Princess’s residence alone, empty-handed, not even returning the stolen ring.

Upon hearing this, Chi Ruo struggled free from her paperwork and gleefully sought out Jiang Youbai: “Perfect. This is perfect. I was just wondering how to pit these two against each other so we could reap the rewards. Now the eldest prince has handed us the opportunity.”

Jiang Youbai laughed: “We don’t even need to lift a finger.”

“I don’t know what your cousin is thinking. Instead of apologizing immediately and bringing his brat to kowtow, he’s putting on airs. Well, even I know your uncle will be furious. How does he not?”

The eldest prince’s triumphant return had the emperor showering him with rewards and real power. But this apparent satisfaction was likely just a veiled warning.

Rewarding him with authority didn’t necessarily mean the emperor truly approved of him as heir. It was more likely a test—to see if the crown prince could handle the responsibility.

If the emperor gave him rewards and armed forces, only for him to immediately act foolishly, it would be a slap in the emperor’s face, proving him unfit for the throne.

The doubts the emperor once had about Jiang Qingxian would soon resurface for the eldest prince.

Jiang Youbai shook her head: “After my uncle ascended the throne, he had no children for a long time. The eldest prince was his first, and he personally tutored him back then. Maybe the eldest prince never truly believed his father had no humanity left.”

Chi Ruo fell silent. This was the horror of imperial power.

Was the person on the throne still human, or a beast manipulated by power? No one could say—not even his own son.

Jiang Youbai said: “Let’s wait and see. Jiang Qingxian is smart. She knows what to do now.”

Having experienced the June succession incident, Jiang Qingxian must have realized the emperor’s ruthlessness and shed her naivety.

One moment, you’re the darling of the court. The next, you’re a scheming traitor.

Sure enough, Jiang Qingxian anxiously accepted the crown prince’s apology, insisting the ring was a gift for her nephew and that she’d gladly offer anything he fancied.

The eldest prince, buoyed by arrogance, accepted, interpreting Jiang Qingxian’s submission as surrender—an admission of defeat, ceding the throne to him.

Jiang Qingjia smugly told Jiang Qingxian: “Ah, my youngest is spoiled. That’s just how he is. Nothing to be done.”

Jiang Qingxian smiled and escorted him to the door, where they coincidentally ran into several guests: “It was my fault for quarreling with your son. Next time he fancies something, just let me know. I’ll deliver it to your residence.”

The crown prince said: “Sure.”

Perfect. Not only did Jiang Qingxian hear this, but so did several Alpha legislators who happened to be visiting. Soon, the emperor’s ears would too.

Chi Ruo and Jiang Youbai cheered inwardly, wishing they could send the eldest prince a commendation banner.

He was nailing every mistake, every word a blatant disregard for the emperor’s bottom line, effectively announcing his voluntary withdrawal from the succession.

The emperor watched this farce coldly for days, as if unaware. Then, out of nowhere, he severely punished the crown prince’s second son, exiling him on the grounds of “disrespecting the heir is disrespecting the emperor.”

He even dispatched a fleet to ensure the exile reached his destination within three days.

Exile was a heavy punishment. Banished royals were stripped of their status and barred from succession, even if pardoned later.

The crown prince had only two children. One died mysteriously, the killer still unknown. The other was exiled by his own father, losing all inheritance rights.

Effectively, after fifty years, he had no heirs.

Only then did Jiang Qingjia wake up, remembering how he’d lived in fear under the emperor’s rule all these years.

Terrified, he rushed to the palace to beg for mercy, afraid the emperor would strip him of his position too.

Surprisingly, the emperor only punished the second son, leaving the crown prince’s authority intact. Relieved, the eldest prince relaxed.

Jiang Youbai snacked on melon seeds, chatting idly with Chi Ruo: “My uncle—if he punishes you on the spot, it’s over. But if he keeps it bottled up, he’s saving it for later.”

“Plus, he just gave real power, and the eldest prince immediately messed up. He’s furious—it’s like calling him a poor judge of character. If Jiang Qingxian makes a move now, my uncle will probably indulge her, maybe even reward her more.”

Two days later, Jiang Qingxian and Ning Yunze announced their engagement in two months, formalizing the alliance between the prime minister and the Crown Princess.

The emperor picked through various positions and assigned Jiang Qingxian as captain of Patrol Team 022, putting her on equal footing with the crown prince.

On the surface, they seemed evenly matched again. But those in the know understood the true winner of the throne remained elusive.

The capital’s intrigues had nothing to do with Lou Huaiche. As a viscount’s daughter, she was far removed from the center of power. Aside from spending two days with Ning Yunze after his engagement, she focused on her studies.

Jiang Youbai sat beside her, counting the days: “I can’t wait for the fireworks festival. Why isn’t it here yet? I’m going crazy waiting.”

Lou Huaiche smiled: “You’re like a kid, counting days on your fingers. It’s at the end of July—just a few days away. How can you not wait that long?”

As they chatted, a classmate approached Jiang Youbai: “Your Highness, Young Master Ning is looking for you outside.”

Jiang Youbai looked up, puzzled: “Me?”

Shouldn’t Ning Yunze be looking for Lou Huaiche? Why her?

And with his engagement to Jiang Qingxian imminent, why seek her out publicly?

Lou Huaiche was equally surprised: “Huh? Did Xiao Ning make a mistake?”

The classmate scratched his head: “No. Young Master Ning specifically said it was you. Told me not to get the wrong person.”

Bewildered, Jiang Youbai stepped outside and saw Ning Yunze, his face impatient and anxious.

In just half a month, Ning Yunze had withered dramatically. He was gaunt, as if a strong wind could knock him over. Two weeks ago, he’d been vibrant on the basketball court. Now, his clothes hung loosely, his face devoid of life.

He seemed to be clinging to his last breath. If that breath left, he’d die instantly.

Spotting Jiang Youbai, he rushed forward, gripping her tightly: “We need to talk somewhere private.”

Jiang Youbai frowned, trying to shake him off, but his grip was ironclad. She whispered: “What’s so urgent? Can’t you say it here? Young Master Ning, this is highly inappropriate.”

Ning Yunze stared at her, letting out a strange, hoarse laugh: “What does it matter now? Jiang Youbai, I’m a Host.”