After The Mission Failed, The Scumbag Alpha Ran Away - Chapter 30

30: Lou Huaiche Took Her Rose with Her

Chaos.

The world was in utter, disordered chaos.

After a brief ringing in her ears, all sound around Lou Huaiche ceased, leaving only a deathly silence.

Dozens of searchlights swept across the sea’s surface. Lou Huaiche stood motionless, straining her eyes to follow the beams of light, searching for that fleeting glimpse of blue that had vanished into the sea in mere seconds.

Her hands gripped the railing so tightly that it was the only thing keeping her upright. The sea breeze blew from behind her, tousling her clothes and hair, obscuring part of her vision.

The warm wind brushed against her, waves of dizziness rising within her. She clung to the railing, barely managing to steady herself and not faint.

Gradually, sounds returned to her ears, as if from a great distance, growing clearer bit by bit.

Lou Huaiche turned and staggered toward the tower. The patrol guards had already rushed down. She grabbed one of them, opened her mouth, but found her voice had completely failed her.

The guard she grabbed steadied her. “Miss? What’s wrong?”

Lou Huaiche raised her head, revealing tear-streaked cheeks. Finally, she found her voice, trembling as she asked, “Where is Jiang Youbai?”

The guard looked down at the Omega, who was staring at him with desperate hope and fear. Her grip on his arm was painfully tight, her back straight as bamboo.

But the guard inexplicably felt that this Omega was on the verge of collapse, unable to bear even a single word.

He said, “The princess consort jumped into the sea. From this height, the impact alone would knock someone unconscious and drown them. If they hit the reefs, death would be instant.”

Lou Huaiche released his arm, then let out a hoarse, anguished scream: “I’m asking about Jiang Youbai! Jiang Youbai! Where is Jiang Youbai? Where did she go?!”

The guard watched her sudden outburst with pity and delivered his verdict: “The princess consort who jumped into the sea was Jiang Youbai.”

A deep, suffocating darkness surged up within her. She stood frozen, unable to respond.

The guard no longer paid attention to this distraught Omega and brushed past her, rushing toward the bay. Countless people streamed past her like a tide.

Lou Huaiche’s mind echoed the words she had just heard.

The princess consort who jumped into the sea was Jiang Youbai.

A wretched, bloody agony churned in her chest, as if all the strength had been drained from her body.

A few seconds later, Lou Huaiche abruptly turned and stumbled toward the bay.

She had to find Jiang Youbai.

She had to see Jiang Youbai.

She had to see Jiang Youbai.

How could the person who had just been smiling at her, handing her a rose, telling her that Pandora’s box must contain hope—how could that person have jumped in the blink of an eye?

How?

She fell several times on the rough ground but forced herself up each time, running forward.

The wind tugged at her loose hair and skirt, obscuring her vision. Finally, her hand touched the railing.

The cliff was steep, dizzyingly high. Without hesitation, Lou Huaiche climbed over the railing, ready to jump.

The guards nearby, who were inspecting the cliff’s edge, saw her and immediately grabbed her arms and shoulders, hauling her back by force.

Lou Huaiche struggled wildly in their grip, scratching and hitting. “Let me go! Let me go!”

One of the guards recognized her. “Lou Huaiche? You’re Lou Huaiche, right? Calm down. Don’t do anything rash.”

Lou Huaiche’s voice was hoarse and trembling, as if bleeding. “Let me go!”

Her mind was a chaotic mess, engulfed in desolate, vicious pain, wrapping around her with a truth she couldn’t bear.

Seeing her like this, the guards tightened their grip, using all their strength to restrain her.

How could someone so slender, so fragile-looking, have such strength?

Lou Huaiche, pinned down, continued to struggle, tears streaming down her face, her screams piercing the air.

Above, fireworks burst in brilliant clusters, illuminating half the sky, intertwining with the stars.

Behind her, the square erupted in waves of thunderous cheers.

Lou Huaiche looked up and suddenly fell silent. She stopped struggling, staring blankly at the sky. After a long moment, her whisper scattered in the wind: “Midnight.”

Midnight. August had arrived.

Lou Huaiche took a step back. Slowly, slowly, she closed her eyes, waiting in this moment of revelry for fate’s cruel mockery.

A patrol aircraft rose from the sea below the cliff, stirring a gust of cold, chaotic wind.

The damp, salty air rushed at her. The aircraft’s hatch opened, and an Alpha guard leaned out. “We’ve recovered it.”

A drenched corpse was thrown onto the ground, tied with a blue ribbon, wearing a blue dress, its body covered in shattered wounds and the stench of bl00d.

The corpse rolled over, revealing a pale yet strikingly beautiful face.

Jiang Youbai.

Lou Huaiche studied it carefully.

Just dead.

Dead.

But how could she be dead?

Lou Huaiche suddenly calmed. All her confusion, her grief, her anguish—gone in an instant.

She stood before the corpse, glanced at it indifferently, as if it meant nothing to her.

Lou Huaiche held a blue rose loosely in her hand, her fingers lightly brushing the stem. She turned and walked away without hesitation.

The wind was strong, carrying the scent of the sea, scattering the tender love in her heart.

Lou Huaiche was enveloped in a dense, fog-like tranquility, her amber eyes clear, devoid of any excess emotion.

Behind her stretched the endless sea, the moon hanging high above, its light dancing on the waves. At the cliff’s edge lay a corpse. She walked away with graceful, light steps, as if stepping into a thick darkness.

Someone happened to look up and saw her slender wrist hanging down, her pale, delicate fingers holding a rose—the same soft blue as the dress on the princess consort’s body.

Lou Huaiche left the corpse behind.

She only took the rose with her.

—

Rewind to five minutes earlier.

Jiang Youbai hid in a small cave on the cliff, just big enough for one person. Chi Ruo and Ning Yunze had carved it out beforehand. After jumping from the tower, she entered a blind spot, quickly deployed a glider, and slipped inside. Once she sent the signal, Ning Yunze initiated the consciousness transfer.

By the time the transfer was seconds from completion, Jiang Youbai would jump again. By the time her body hit the sea and died, the transfer would already be finished.

This was their final plan after multiple revisions.

Faking death in a short time frame while evading the Empire’s dense network of surveillance and spies was no easy task. Death by illness, assassination, or accident were all too easily scrutinized and left little room for manipulation.

Arranging a new identity afterward would also be tricky.

By contrast, a public suicide during the fireworks show—under the cover of night, with the patrol guards preoccupied with security (especially after past incidents, the Emperor had ordered heightened vigilance this year)—left a long window of opportunity. The blind spots in visibility and the shortage of personnel for body recovery gave them plenty of leeway.

A public suicide would also stir enough public outcry to create chaos. While the princess consort’s suicide couldn’t immediately be used against the Emperor, it held more value than a quiet death from illness.

Everything was ready. Jiang Youbai’s consciousness gathered within her body—an indescribably strange sensation, as if all physical sensations faded, coalescing into a single point before being drawn away.

She removed the earpiece. Her wrist terminal vibrated—Ning Yunze’s signal to proceed.

Jiang Youbai smashed the terminal to prevent any discrepancies in her death records due to brain death.

With everything set, she pushed open the door, stepped into the damp air, and let herself fall.

In the final moment before her consciousness was fully extracted, she glanced at the data panel floating before her eyes.

[Lou Huaiche’s Blackening Value: 100]

Her mind grew hazy. Jiang Youbai struggled to process the words, but before she could grasp their meaning, her eyes closed.

—

Recently, the capital had been anything but calm. The first day of August was especially turbulent, ominous clouds gathering on the horizon.

The young, brilliant Alpha princess consort Jiang Youbai had fallen from the tower during the fireworks show. By the time the patrol guards found her, all signs of life were gone.

The news sent shockwaves through the capital. After the initial disbelief, speculation ran rampant about the truth behind her death. But under the Emperor’s grim expression, the city fell into a hushed silence.

In their hearts, everyone thought the same: the princess consort’s death couldn’t possibly be so simple.

A figure like her, who had snatched the heir’s title from the Emperor’s grasp even in the direst circumstances—how could she die so easily?

An accidental fall?

Not even a three-year-old would believe that!

It was more laughable than the princess consort accidentally killing the Emperor.

The more the Emperor avoided the topic, the more convinced everyone became that there was some unspeakable secret behind it.

Despite the Emperor’s ban, rumors began to quietly spread through the capital.

—

In the Lower District, inside a sealed ward at the Empire’s Psychiatric Hospital, lay a strikingly beautiful Alpha.

Tubes connected to her body sustained her basic life functions. Her chest rose and fell slightly, as if she were peacefully asleep.

Several machines surrounded her bed, their wires attached to her head and elsewhere, constantly monitoring her brain activity.

Two nurses entered, recorded their routine checks, and left quietly.

As the door closed, their hushed voices drifted in.

“Poor Alpha… I heard she suddenly had an episode, hit her head, and her family sent her here. It’s been over half a year, and not a single family member or friend has visited.”

“Honestly. Sure, they keep paying, but they won’t treat her. After the first two people came, no one else showed up. Rich people—so heartless.”

“What a waste. Such a pretty face, and a top-tier Alpha too. How did she end up like this? Heaven envies the talented, I guess. It’s been half a year. The chances of waking up are slim. Even if she does, she’ll probably be half an idiot.”

Inside the room, the Alpha’s eyelashes fluttered faintly, as if she’d heard them. Then, her fingers twitched, slowly gripping the sheets.

My head hurts. It felt like something was churning inside. Jiang Youbai tried to lift her hand to rub her temples but found her body unresponsive, as if her brain hadn’t reconnected with her limbs yet.

She heard faint voices outside.

“Maybe she’ll wake up one day. You never know.”

“Half a year in the blink of an eye.”

The voices and footsteps faded. The nurses had left.

Jiang Youbai slowly opened her eyes, staring at the glaring surgical lamp above. Well, thanks for the jinx.

Her head throbbed violently, and she felt terribly dizzy. She tried to lift her hand but found her body mostly numb.

Jiang Youbai smirked self-deprecatingly.

I’m not very familiar with my own body yet.

A machine beside her let out a sharp beep, then began emitting a rhythmic, ear-piercing alarm.

BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—

Jiang Youbai struggled to sit up and turn it off, but her body still wouldn’t obey.

The machine was likely monitoring her vitals, alerting the staff the moment she woke.

But in this day and age, couldn’t it just send a notification online? Did it have to torture the patient like this?

She rolled her eyes and spotted red lettering on the wall:

[Empire Psychiatric Hospital]

Jiang Youbai was speechless. “…”

Chi Ruo had once joked that the psychiatric hospital might be her final destination. Did she actually dump her here?

The machine blared for a while before triggering a timed alarm.

SCREECH—

Jiang Youbai closed her eyes, feeling the capriciousness of life.

She never imagined her first challenge upon waking would be enduring this outdated torture device.

After a glorious life, she returned to this.

Five or six minutes later, hurried footsteps finally approached.

“What’s going on?”

“Patient in Room 250 is awake!”

Jiang Youbai: “…”

Why 250? Chi Ruo, how much pent-up anger do you still have toward me?

The door burst open, and several nurses rushed in.

A Beta head nurse leaned over her bed, asking urgently, “You’re awake? How do you feel?”

Jiang Youbai shifted her gaze, wordlessly conveying her confusion.

The nurse realized the patient had just woken up and might not have full control yet. She reassured her kindly, “Don’t worry, we’ll notify your family. But this is the Lower District—it might take them a few days to get here from the Upper District.”

Jiang Youbai stared at her intently—

Just turn off the machine first!

Her eyes were clear and dark, mesmerizingly enchanting. The nurse faltered, nearly lost in their depths, before snapping back. “Is something wrong? Any discomfort?”

Jiang Youbai’s gaze shifted past her, fixed on the alarm.

Finally, the nurse understood. She turned it off. “Ah, you seem quite lucid. You might not have full control yet, but it’ll come back in a few days. By then, your family should be here. Rest for now—we’ll leave you be.”

The nurses filed out.

The moment the door closed, excited chatter erupted outside.

“Oh my god! She actually woke up—a miracle!”

“Didn’t I say she might wake up one day? And then bam, less than half an hour later!”

“She’s so gorgeous, so delicate—the epitome of a stunning beauty!”

“And her aura! Feels like she might be nobility.”

Jiang Youbai lay in bed, finally regaining some control over her body.

Her first coherent thought?

What a mess. This is awful.

The dizziness from jumping off the cliff still lingered, yet half a year had already passed.

She vaguely felt like she’d forgotten something, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall what.

Jiang Youbai combed through her memories but found no gaps. She chalked it up to post-awakening confusion.

The thought of half a year passing made her grit her teeth.

Half a year—if the Emperor’s health had been worse, he might’ve already died. She’d woken up with no information, completely in the dark. Chi Ruo and Ning Yunze had likely sent her to the Lower District out of caution.

But with no updates, she had no idea what the current situation was. Coupled with her unfamiliarity with this new body, frustration gnawed at her.

Exhausted from waking, her body and mind drained, Jiang Youbai drifted back to sleep.

—

When she woke again, the surgical lamp still glared above her.

This type of lamp had been obsolete since Earth’s era. That it existed in the Empire’s capital spoke volumes about the Lower District’s poverty and backwardness.

Jiang Youbai tested her movements and found her body responsive, no different from before.

Relieved, she threw off the covers and got out of bed, intending to step outside for air. The moment she opened the door, she nearly collided with Chi Ruo.

After half a year apart, Chi Ruo had cut her hair short, permed it into tight curls, and wore bold makeup. Her wool dress carried a faint scent of alcohol and cigarettes, as if she’d spent the previous night at a bar.

Jiang Youbai was taken aback. “You—why’d you stick me here? That damn machine nearly killed me yesterday.”

Chi Ruo’s eyes reddened instantly. She threw her arms around Jiang Youbai and wailed, “You’re finally alive!”

She instinctively wanted to curse Jiang Youbai but remembered the name was now dead. Instead, she shoved Jiang Youbai back into the room. “I missed you so much! Do you know how long you’ve been out? From August to April—almost a full year! These past six months without you, I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even drink properly!”

Jiang Youbai, still weak, stumbled. “I can smell the alcohol on you. I even know it’s from Extreme Black Box.”

Chi Ruo grinned through her tears. “Heh.”

She stepped aside, revealing Ning Yunze.

Compared to his skeletal appearance half a year ago, he looked much healthier now—still lean, but no longer deathly.

Ning Yunze coughed. “Save the reunion for later. Business first.”

The three entered the room and closed the door.

Despite Ning Yunze’s words, Chi Ruo couldn’t help complaining. “Ning Yunze is so unreliable. He said it’d be a fake death, but after three or four days, your clone body still wouldn’t wake up. If the brainwaves hadn’t shown up, I’d have thought he tricked you into jumping to your death.”

Ning Yunze sneered. “You did think that. Almost killed me.”

Jiang Youbai rubbed her temples, chuckling at the mental image.

Chi Ruo must’ve been furious. Ning Yunze had suffered.

Chi Ruo began counting off on her fingers. “God, dealing with the fallout after the fireworks show was a nightmare! We thought you’d wake in a few days, but no—it took forever. The old royalists agreed to clone a princess consort as a puppet, but after a while, they wanted to scrap this body to avoid attention.”

“Luckily, Ning Yunze told Jiang Qingxian about her lineage, connecting her to the old royalists and diverting them. I moved you to a safe spot, transferring you multiple times to avoid detection before finally hiding you here!”

Ning Yunze tried to cut in. “Let’s not—”

Chi Ruo shoved him aside, continuing her rant. “The first half-year after your ‘death’ was chaotic. Jiang Qingxian, Jiang Qingjia, and your uncle all took hits—especially your uncle. Someone tried to assassinate him at your funeral. After that, things stabilized. Nothing else happened.”

Ning Yunze tried again. “Right now, we should—”

Chi Ruo, pent up for months, steamrolled over him. “Ugh! So annoying! Am I your mom in some past life? Do I owe you? Cleaning up your messes for free! Thank god you transferred your assets to me before dying, or your uncle would’ve taken them!”

Jiang Youbai, who’d been listening amusedly, finally interrupted. “You took my money?”

Chi Ruo puffed up indignantly. “Obviously! What, you expect free labor from capitalists now?”

“Then why not get me better equipment?!”

Chi Ruo blew a strand of hair off her forehead. “Couldn’t risk it. Didn’t want anyone finding out.”

Ning Yunze finally snapped. “Quiet!”

The Alpha and Beta fell silent, turning to him with identical innocent expressions.

Ning Yunze glared. “Save the reunion for later. I know you’re eager, but focus. We’ll talk after business.”

He turned to Jiang Youbai, expression grave. “Actually, I knew you woke up yesterday.”

“Huh? Shouldn’t the nurses have reported it?”

“No.” Ning Yunze paused. “After your fake death, the luck aura around you and Lou Huaiche vanished completely. Yesterday, it suddenly reappeared.”

He met Jiang Youbai’s eyes, his gaze complicated.

“Now, you are this world’s Child of Destiny.”