Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 18

For the defeated, death is the only option.

Black Hat leaned against the ground, her lungs burning with pain. Her nose might be broken; the bl00d smeared across her face made breathing difficult.

She watched Zhu Yu calmly disassemble the Exoskeleton’s left arm using only an electric screwdriver. The oppressive rose scent began to fade as Zhu Yu tightly bound their hands and feet with synthetic rope.

Black Hat closed her eyes.

Official reports portrayed this Commoner’s Star—born of humble origins and possessing only ordinary talent—as perpetually radiant with a sunny smile, brimming with confidence, flamboyant ambition, and boundless optimism.

Standing on the highest podium during her medal ceremony, she declared to the world, “Everything is possible. Never abandon hope.”

She had uttered the same words before slaughtering those defenseless Federation scientists who had already surrendered.

Zhu Yu’s medals were stained with the bl00d of her comrades, while the brilliant scientists she had murdered might have been on the verge of solving the very problems hindering humanity’s progress.

How could such an intensely dangerous rose pheromone possibly belong to a mere D-Rank Alpha? The cunning Imperials had clearly concealed her true capabilities to deceive their enemies!

Black Hat never imagined that such an oppressive and aggressive pheromone could actually originate from an Omega.

Behind the white gauze, Little Oriole transformed into her human form, hiding in Bai Sha’s arms and sobbing. Zhu Yu paced anxiously, trying to comfort her, but whenever she approached, Little Oriole’s cries would noticeably quiet down, her body trembling violently.

Zhu Yu sighed softly and turned to face Black Hat.

The woman tilted her head back, blinking hard to sharpen her vision and memorize the demon’s face.

But the girl’s expression remained indifferent. With a sigh, she poured out a handful of colorful pills from a sealed bag and forced them down Black Hat’s throat.

What is this?! Black Hat struggled violently, her wrists already raw and bloody. She glared at Zhu Yu as she dragged her subordinates out of the courtyard and violently bound them together.

Midway through, Zhu Yu frowned slightly, adjusted her posture, and straightened her back.

The woman on the bed’s eyes flickered as she gently patted Little Oriole, whispering a few words. Moments later, the girl wiped away her tears and stepped forward. Zhu Yu ruffled her hair, flashing a smile. “No need to thank me!”

Black Hat assumed the girl had come to thank her. But the girl shyly pursed her lips, bowed, and began helping her move things.

Black Hat held her breath, feeling a burning sensation in her stomach. The poison Zhu Yu had given her was taking effect. How will she torture us?

She had been waiting for death to come.

But after tying them all up in the courtyard, Zhu Yu called the girl over to wash her hands. She made her wash them several times with soap before turning back to cooking.

Having struck someone for the first time, Zhu Yu’s hands still trembled slightly as she relaxed. She concealed her panic in the routine of daily tasks, striving to appear normal and project an aura of reliable calm.

Yet her voice unconsciously lowered, becoming warm and magnetic as she asked, “Do you have any dietary restrictions? Can you eat onions, ginger, garlic, or chili peppers?”

“Oh, then go ahead and serve the rice first. There are no guests, so three bowls will do. Remember to close the rice cooker after you’re done.”

Bai Shuzhou couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Zhu Yu caught his faint smile and smiled back, letting out a gentle sigh. From restless anxiety to burying her face in her bowl, she devoured the food in large mouthfuls, her suspended heart slowly settling back to earth.

The aroma of cooking drifted out the window, as if the world’s troubles held no sway here. Filling one’s belly was the most important thing in the world.

The savory scent wafted into the courtyard, driving the ravenous smugglers into a frenzy of salivation. Their lips soon became parched and cracked.

After the meal, Little Oriole timidly glanced at Bai Shuzhou. With his permission, she carried a bowl of water outside to One-Eyed Dragon. The woman glared at her but eagerly gulped it down.

“Aaaah! So spicy! So spicy! You damned… what did you put in the water?!”

“Water! Water! Please, please… aaaaah!”

Little Oriole had nearly retreated several times, but now, watching the menacing Star Pirates wailing and begging for mercy, she blinked slowly.

There was no joy in avenging her great wrong, yet she still retrieved the remaining chili oil and evenly splashed it across each of their faces, her movements now far more decisive.

The ground erupted with frantically writhing caterpillars.

Zhu Yu’s eyes widened in shock, while Bai Shuzhou remained calm, showing no surprise as she lowered her gaze to continue reading.

The Little Oriole, whose real name was Mo Jingchun—a beautiful name—had received a talent scout’s card on her way home from work. The card promised that passing a singing audition would secure her Federation citizenship and stardom.

These elaborate scams all shared the same ultimate goal: to capture and “train” Imperial citizens for sale as exotic pets.

The more Zhu Yu heard, the more her heart pounded. She suddenly remembered Cat’s training program, its recruitment process eerily similar.

Full of dreams, they had plunged into irreversible ruin.

By the time Bai Shuzhou finished bandaging the bird, night had fallen completely. The girl insisted on returning home, saying someone was waiting for her. Unable to dissuade her, Zhu Yu had no choice but to escort her back first.

“Are you Zhu Yu?” the girl asked softly on the way, finally daring to speak.

Zhu Yu nodded. Her mind was racing, but she couldn’t show it. Her waist still throbbed faintly—that bastard who ambushed her had really gone for the kill.

“I’ve heard of you,” the girl’s voice was soft, full of hope, as if she were gazing up at a revered savior. “You’re so strong, you’ll definitely rescue the others, right? The auction is tomorrow night. If they’re sold, they’ll never go home again! Please…”

I’m sorry, I’m not the Zhu Yu you’re expecting. The other side has a vast criminal network, maybe even an army, while I only have a chainsaw.

But facing the girl’s bright, pleading eyes, those words twisted and turned in my throat, sticking like gum. Zhu Yu had always been terrible at refusing people, so she could only nod silently.

The girl’s family wept in a huddle, her two mothers desperately trying to press a gold necklace into her hands. Zhu Yu naturally refused, but despite her current physical strength—enough to kill a bull—she was nearly crushed by the family’s fervent embrace. In the end, she was forced to take a small bag of pastries with her.

Bai Shuzhou loved sweets.

Hesitantly, Zhu Yu circled around to Helan’s shop, only to find the lights off. She remembered Helan had taken He Ming to visit their grandmother and didn’t know when they’d be back.

Besides, Helan had already helped them so much. She shouldn’t drag them into this dangerous situation again.

A cool evening breeze calmed Zhu Yu’s overheated mind. She took a deep breath, and the image of a certain woman resurfaced in her thoughts.

Having transmigrated into the body of a villainous cannon fodder character, she had become a wanted criminal, assaulted smugglers, and experienced more excitement in a few short days than in her entire previous life combined.

Zhu Yu chuckled softly.

Returning home, she found the courtyard eerily quiet. A pair of sharp eyes stood out in the darkness, but this time Zhu Yu wasn’t startled. Seeing Black Hat squirming and about to make a fuss, disturbing Long Qing’s sleep, she yanked the gag from her mouth and snapped, “What do you want?”

The bleeding on Black Hat’s face had stopped—the medicine from the small workshop was indeed effective. She stared at Zhu Yu with a complex expression. “You’re not going to kill me?”

Zhu Yu countered, “If I kill you, will those trafficked children be released?”

Black Hat: “No.”

Zhu Yu sighed. “Then that settles it. Killing you would serve no purpose beyond venting my anger.”

She longed to emulate a heroic figure, raising her arm and shouting, “Tie up Black Hat and make her lead us to their lair! We’ll destroy their base tonight, rescue the innocent youths, and bring these criminals to justice!” That’s how it always played out in the movies.

But she couldn’t do it. The movies also showed another path, the path of a cannon fodder character.

No one wanted to watch that kind of drama. She was neither a spirited tiger general nor a cunning fox politician. She was just a villainous cannon fodder, a mere plot device in Bai Shuzhou’s story, not even as significant as Nangong.

Protect Bai Shuzhou, get her home safely, pray for forgiveness for her past deeds, and then leave. That would be enough.

She had made up her mind long ago.

She would gracefully step aside, use her skills to make a living, build her own little home, and cook four dishes and a soup every day.

Zhu Yu pushed open the door, hugged the piggy bank, and counted the money. She already knew the amount—not enough for a starship ticket.

But there were still the gems, Bai Shuzhou’s gems.

Thank goodness… there were still the gems.

Perhaps, after sending Bai Shuzhou away, she could take the money and run. She could escape to the Federation, to an even more distant planet. The money would be enough to last her the rest of her life, and she wouldn’t have to live in constant fear anymore.

The girl stood backlit, clutching the ridiculously broken piggy bank.

“Zhu Yu,” the woman murmured, her voice cool and low. Vines climbed onto Zhu Yu’s shoulder, pausing hesitantly. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Zhu Yu replied, turning to smile at her. “You’re still awake?”

A vine tugged at the corner of Zhu Yu’s shirt, revealing the purplish bruises on her waist. Under the soft lamplight, the woman’s gaze softened as well. Under those pale blue eyes, Zhu Yu suddenly felt a sharp pain in her wounds, even her breathing becoming shallow.

The floor mat was dirty from being stepped on. Zhu Yu sat on the edge of the bed, using her Ability to heal herself. The hooks of the white gauze were loose, constantly slipping down. In the flickering lamplight, the woman’s slender fingers pressed against the back of Zhu Yu’s hand, guiding it a few inches lower.

Warm, gentle, with a texture like jade.

Zhu Yu’s gaze involuntarily drifted to the small red mole on the woman’s wrist before she hastily looked away, lowering her head to watch the warm light gradually fade from her waist.

The Black Hat Squad had disappeared. The Star Pirates would undoubtedly send search parties.

Zhu Yu said in a muffled voice, “It’s too dangerous here. I think I should get you out first, then you can send people to investigate the smuggling operations here. You’re the only one who can save them.”

“Alright,” the cool voice lowered, sounding particularly gentle in the night, silencing Zhu Yu’s anxious thoughts about danger and calming her heart.

Thump, thump.

In the silent room, only the sound of heartbeats echoed.

Those pale blue eyes gazed at her, asking, “We’re not going together?”

“Oh, right, we are.”

Zhu Yu pinched her wrist, the word “we” giving her a strange, bittersweet feeling. Her voice tightened as she tentatively asked, “Then we’ll go together first, rescue them, and then…”

A subtle shift in her tone.

“…then, can you spare my life?”

Even she felt embarrassed asking such a question at this moment, but the woman paused, then slowly smiled, as if finding the request amusing.

This isn’t like Zhu Yu at all.

No, this is exactly like Zhu Yu.

After Bai Shuzhou fell asleep, Zhu Yu carefully lifted the tail wrapped around her, tucked him snugly under the covers, and quietly pushed open the door.

Without her noticing, the smugglers in the courtyard had vanished without a trace. Zhu Yu started in alarm, then spotted a tall figure silhouetted against the high wall.

Under the moonlight, Nangong’s red hair flared as she laughed. “No wonder you came to find me in the middle of the night. This is indeed a very big deal.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Nangong shrugged, spreading her hands. “Whatever. It’s all the same to me.”

“Who are you really? Federation Military or a smuggler?”

Nangong leaped gracefully from the wall. “Please, don’t compare me to those trash.”

Zhu Yu didn’t want to waste any more time arguing. Time was of the essence. If they moved quickly enough, Bai Shuzhou’s people might still be able to stop tomorrow night’s auction.

“I need two tickets back to the Empire, preferably with connections to the Imperial Star.”

“Your bargaining chips aren’t worth that much.”

“I have money, and a bag of gems—flawless quality, enough to buy several Energy Planets.”

Nangong opened the bag, casually shook it, and glanced at Zhu Yu and the tightly closed door behind her. She grinned, flashing white teeth. “Not enough. I want something more valuable.”

Zhu Yu clenched her fists. “Don’t push your luck!”

Nangong smiled sweetly. “You’re the one who needs something from me, darling.”

Her gaze drifted to the ring on Zhu Yu’s hand, her expression ambiguous.

This was given to me by Bai Shuzhou! Zhu Yu immediately covered the ring protectively, refusing to let Nangong covet it any longer.

Nangong clicked her tongue softly and spread her hands. “Are you going to trade or not? My time is precious.”

Zhu Yu gritted her teeth, hesitated for a moment, then retrieved the war merit medal from her inner pocket and handed it over.

This wasn’t the first time she’d pawned it, but now she felt an overwhelming sense of shame. Her heart raced, and her breathing grew shallow.

Nangong glanced dismissively at the medal and chuckled. “Acceptable. One direct ticket.”

“I need two! And there’s no direct route here!”

“Still playing dumb, Comrade Zhu Yu?” Nangong held up the medal. “Haven’t you already surrendered yourself?”

No soldier would ever willingly part with their honor medal, which they valued above life itself.

She had no choice.

The girl fell silent.

This legendary Commoner’s Star, known for her unwavering resilience, lowered her head. Her shoulders began to tremble, and tears fell in heavy drops onto the ground.

“Hey, hey, don’t take it so hard!” Nangong, startled by her sudden tears, leaned in to check. “Are you really crying?”

Her answer was the icy touch of metal pressed against her heart.

Zhu Yu raised her head, the mechanical exoskeleton clicking softly as the gun barrel folded away. A final tear slid down her cheek.

Her heart pounded wildly, but outwardly, she merely chuckled, her voice dry.

“Swear on your family’s name to ensure her safe passage, or we’ll both die here.”

“This world is just a game to me. Death might even be an escape. I don’t care. What about you?”

Her hand remained steady, her emotions barely wavering, radiating a calm madness like a spider reciting narration.

“You’re insane!” Nangong stared into Zhu Yu’s stark black-and-white eyes, utterly convinced she would carry out her threat.

Damn it! I underestimated Zhu Yu. How could she have maintained this facade for so long…?!

“What if I break my word?”

“You won’t, Nangong Xun. You have your pride,” Zhu Yu smirked wickedly. “If you betray me, videos of you wearing electric bunny ears and acting cute will flood every forum.”

A suspicious silence hung in the air for a few seconds.

The smile vanished from Nangong’s face, her bright eyes darkening. Her entire demeanor shifted, becoming chillingly cold, creating a jarring contrast with her frivolous appearance.

“How did you find out? Did White Horse tell you?”

Zhu Yu remained silent, only smiling at her.

In truth, she had discovered Nangong’s real name long ago. However, searching for it on StarNet yielded no significant information. Nangong was a prominent surname in the Federation, so common that many politicians bore it.

Oh, and by the way, she had only asked a few people and casually tapped a few search keys. It wasn’t like she was obsessively digging for every scrap of information out of some personal vendetta.

Just moments ago, she had been pondering: what kind of person would casually spend hundreds of thousands of credits on wheelchairs, disdain both the Federation Military and smugglers, yet be forced to hide in this chaotic zone as a waitress?

The barrel of the Exoskeleton’s gun began to heat up, its icy tip pressing against her chest.

Nangong sneered. “Fine, you win. I swear on my family name, I will return the Princess to the Imperial Star.”

Her gaze darkened as she noticed a fleeting white flash in the room—someone was watching from the shadows. Narrowing her eyes, she braced herself against the rigid Exoskeleton, wrapped her arms around Zhu Yu, and whispered in her ear:

“But remember this debt. I hate being threatened.”

Under the moonlight, the two women clung to each other, like wild beasts locked in a deathly embrace.

All of it was observed by a pair of cold, calculating eyes.