After The Mission Failed, The Scumbag Alpha Ran Away - Chapter 3

3: Miss Lou, We Have Plenty of Time Ahead

The class monitor left briskly, as if she wanted nothing to do with the two of them.

Jiang Youbai and Lou Huaiche exchanged glances. Lou Huaiche gave a faint, indifferent smile: “Your Highness.”

Just moments ago, she had been angry and unwilling to engage with Jiang Youbai, but now her attitude had shifted entirely.

That peculiar fervor and excitement once again permeated her entire being, though Lou Huaiche restrained it considerably. Yet, Jiang Youbai could still sense the bizarre, twisted emotions beneath the surface.

It was as if some long-starved, ominous creature had finally found its prey, lurking sinisterly in the shadows. The moment Jiang Youbai let her guard down even slightly, Lou Huaiche would pounce and tear her apart.

A flicker of amusement passed through Jiang Youbai’s eyes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

Over the past half-month, she had already investigated Lou Huaiche. Lou Huaiche came from a declining viscount family in the imperial capital, with few members left in the clan. By her generation, she was the only one left. Though the family was still wealthy, they were far removed from the circles of power in the capital.

The information was utterly mundane—nobles like Lou Huaiche were a dime a dozen in the imperial capital these days.

Especially since every emperor of the empire enjoyed bestowing titles. Three or four earls were ennobled each year, while viscounts and barons were as common as weeds. In the upper districts, a single brick could knock out seven or eight viscounts.

Lou Huaiche’s upbringing was similarly unremarkable, identical to that of any other noble. If anything, she was luckier than most, having ventured into acting and achieved great fame.

Given this, her current near-mad, sinister emotions were particularly intriguing.

The unknown and mysterious danger filled Jiang Youbai with a sweet sense of delight. She tapped the table lightly: “Miss Lou, I have some matters to attend to today. I look forward to our future interactions.”

Jiang Youbai lowered her voice, her smooth tone suddenly tinged with intimacy. Lou Huaiche’s expression remained unchanged, as if Jiang Youbai’s words had no effect on her whatsoever.

Jiang Youbai truly had other matters to attend to. She picked up her textbook and left the classroom.

It was currently break time, and the pathways were filled with students strolling in twos and threes. Some had even spread picnic blankets on the grassy lawns, sitting together and enjoying desserts.

Every face bore the carefree joy characteristic of their age.

Photos of the royal family were rarely made public, especially those of the younger members. Unauthorized distribution of royal family photos could result in up to two years of imprisonment.

Thus, Jiang Youbai walked through the school grounds unnoticed, with no one recognizing her.

Once outside the school gates, she approached an ordinary maglev vehicle, opened the door, and stepped inside.

As the door closed, the outside world was instantly silenced. The interior of the vehicle was utterly quiet.

In the driver’s seat sat a young woman in her early twenties, dressed in an elaborate red fishtail gown with dramatic makeup and bright red lipstick.

Seeing Jiang Youbai enter, she impatiently kicked the door with her high heel: “What’s going on, Your Highness? These are the busiest days, and you’re running around doing who knows what.”

Jiang Youbai didn’t respond. She fastened her seatbelt and rubbed her temples.

The girl continued her tirade: “The cabinet is causing trouble, your cousins are eyeing the throne, and your uncle is the most difficult to deal with! How could you drop the ball at such a critical moment? If you’d thrown money in my face, I wouldn’t have said anything, but you dumped a pile of messes on me instead—are you out of your mind?”

Jiang Youbai closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, assuming a relaxed posture as if to catch up on sleep.

The girl grew even angrier: “Are you even listening to me? Now I have to chauffeur you to and from school—are you a three-year-old who needs Mommy and Daddy to pick you up?”

“Chi Ruo,” Jiang Youbai finally spoke, “you can be my mom.”

“Jiang Youbai.”

“What?”

“How many years in prison does it take to be a decent human being?”

“I’m genuinely exhausted. If I run into an assassination attempt on my way to or from class, I won’t have the energy to deal with it,” Jiang Youbai sighed. “Yesterday, I was handling official duties my uncle assigned me until four in the morning.”

“You finished work at four in the morning and then eagerly went to school at seven? What, is there some celestial beauty waiting for you to marry her at this school?”

After a few more sarcastic remarks, Chi Ruo said, “Your uncle wants you to go to the palace. No idea what he wants to talk about, but be careful. Though he summons you every now and then, it’s never anything truly urgent. The real urgent matter is that the so-called Crown Princess has returned—apparently an Alpha.”

Jiang Youbai sat up straight in an instant.

Then she took a deep breath: “Let’s deal with my uncle first.”

The imperial palace was located on the highest ground in the upper district, vast and extravagant. Nearly half the wealth of the imperial capital was concentrated within its walls.

Occupying almost half the upper district, the palace housed only eight members of the emperor’s family.

Despite the heavy security and numerous guards, the emperor spared no expense in ensuring the palace was the only place in the capital fully shielded by an energy barrier.

Before entering the palace, even Chi Ruo and the vehicle were stopped at the gates. Following protocol and out of respect, palace attendants escorted Jiang Youbai to change into court attire suitable for an audience with the emperor—a simultaneous check for concealed weapons.

Jiang Youbai changed into the ceremonial robes with practiced ease and followed the attendants to meet the emperor.

The palace was enormous, with countless halls and pavilions. The emperor’s residence was particularly opulent and imposing. Along the way, Jiang Youbai gently inquired of the attendant, “Why has His Majesty summoned me today?”

Having grown up in the palace, she had always been gentle and amiable, and the attendants were willing to accommodate her.

Thus, the attendant replied tactfully, “His Majesty might be feeling slightly unwell. Seeing Your Highness would surely lift his spirits.”

This implied the emperor was in a foul mood. Jiang Youbai lowered her eyes: “I see. Thank you for telling me, sister.”

The emperor awaited Jiang Youbai in his study. She traversed the corridor, following the chief steward to the study door, where she stood properly, eyes fixed straight ahead.

The chief steward knocked: “Your Majesty, Her Highness the Princess has arrived.”

“Enter.”

The heavy door swung open. The emperor, draped in a fox fur cloak, stood on the balcony watering a small pot of flowers.

Jiang Youbai stepped inside quietly: “Your Majesty.”

Once she entered, the emperor waved his hand, and the chief steward closed the door, waiting outside to avoid disturbing their conversation.

Jiang Youbai stood by the door, subtly observing the aging emperor.

It was already late spring, and the weather had warmed considerably. Yet the emperor still wore his fox fur cloak—likely a sign of genuine discomfort.

The emperor, his back to her, hummed as he watered the flowers and beckoned her over: “Why so formal? Won’t you call me ‘Uncle’? Come, Youbai, take a look at these flowers. Aren’t they lovely?”

Jiang Youbai replied, “How could I dare? Your Majesty dotes on me, but I wouldn’t presume to overstep.”

Internally, she sneered. The palace was divided into inner and outer courts, with the outer court traditionally housing other royal family members. This emperor had outright expelled everyone, a testament to his unassailable imperial dignity.

If she truly called him “Uncle,” he might confine her for a decade or two.

Despite her thoughts, Jiang Youbai approached and examined the flowers.

On the balcony stood an antique flower stand adorned with Earth-origin roses—vibrant clusters of red and pink blooms.

Humans had left Earth centuries ago, making Earth-origin plants exceptionally rare and priceless. The public botanical garden in the capital housed a single feeble rose sapling, carefully planted in fertile soil and enclosed behind a diamond wall to keep visitors at a distance.

Such precious flowers, yet the emperor had casually arranged them in wooden pots.

The wealth of the royal family was truly staggering.

Jiang Youbai smiled: “Your Majesty tends to them personally—they bloom beautifully indeed.”

The emperor set down the watering can and turned to face Jiang Youbai.

Now in his nineties, his face was gaunt, his eyes sharp with the paranoia and cruelty unique to aging monarchs.

Jiang Youbai’s expression was one of flawless, sincere delight.

The emperor observed this and said coolly, “This is the first time we’ve met since you presented as an Alpha. Youth truly is vibrant.”

The older an emperor grew, the more he resented the younger generation.

Their youthful, energetic bodies were a living reminder of his own decline—both in life and power.

Jiang Youbai knew this well and thus dared not agree. Instead, she said, “My experience and insight are shallow, nothing compared to Your Majesty’s foresight. The tasks you’ve assigned me have kept me swamped—I haven’t even had time to pay my respects at the palace. Perhaps if Your Majesty lightened my workload, I could spend more time out with Chi Ruo.”

“You just want to go out and have fun?” The old emperor chuckled. His aged, gaunt face made his smile particularly sinister. “I think you’re more interested in meeting people! Instead of focusing on your duties, all you care about is romance.”

Jiang Youbai smiled and tacitly acknowledged this.

The emperor tightened his fox fur cloak: “My frail child has returned, yet no one has arranged for her palace accommodations. She didn’t grow up in the capital and is unfamiliar with the place. Why don’t you host a welcoming banquet for her, so she can meet the ministers?”

This “child” was the rumored Crown Princess. Jiang Youbai bowed her head respectfully: “I may not excel at much, but hosting banquets is my forte. Your Majesty has chosen the right person.”

The emperor sighed, his tone nostalgic: “She’s two years older than you, just as your mother was two years older than me. You and your sister are like us siblings back then.”

Jiang Youbai dared not respond further.

The old emperor was a Beta who had originally held no claim to the throne—his Alpha sister, Jiang Youbai’s mother, had been the heir. But on the eve of her ascension, Jiang Youbai’s mother had gone mad, stabbing the previous emperor to death and paving the way for the current emperor’s rise.

Jiang Youbai’s mother had spent decades in a sanitarium. In her seventies, she had mated with a nurse and given birth to Jiang Youbai.

The emperor was a Beta, as were the three children borne by his consorts.

He had never been the heir, and his Beta children even less so. It hadn’t mattered until Jiang Youbai was born—and the royal physicians predicted a ninety percent chance she would be an Alpha.

Upon hearing this, the conservative members of the cabinet revolted, refusing to let a Beta inherit the throne and causing an uproar in the capital to force the emperor to name Jiang Youbai Crown Princess.

The emperor feigned ignorance, claiming Jiang Youbai hadn’t presented yet and they could discuss it afterward.

Yet as time passed, the old emperor ennobled her as a princess and moved her out of the palace. Meanwhile, young parliamentarians frequently proposed recognizing Beta inheritance rights, fiercely opposed by the old guard.

The two factions clashed for four or five years until the younger faction gradually gained the upper hand, successfully passing the Beta Inheritance Act.

Before she was even ten, Jiang Youbai had gone from the undisputed Crown Princess to just one of many potential heirs.

And the kind that lived outside the palace, no less.

Given the sensitive nature of the throne’s succession and her own precarious position, Jiang Youbai could only remain silent.

She had no desire to provoke the old emperor’s ire and bring unnecessary trouble upon herself.

Jiang Youbai’s reticence left the emperor with little to say. After a few perfunctory remarks, he dismissed her.

Once outside the palace, Chi Ruo was still waiting in the vehicle.

Exhausted, Jiang Youbai briefly recounted the emperor’s words.

Before she could finish, Chi Ruo kicked the vehicle in frustration: “Dammit! Hosting welcome banquets for princes and princesses has always been the chief steward’s job! What’s your uncle playing at? Are you the Crown Princess’s steward now?”