Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 20

Seventh Port was a chaotic hub, teeming with cheap starships used for smuggling. Their hulls were coated in thick layers of dust and rust, resembling abandoned buses on the verge of collapse. Lights flickered erratically, and signal lamps blinked inconsistently.

Zhu Yu quietly pointed to one of the lamps and explained to Bai Shuzhou, “The flickering pattern of this signal lamp is transmitting information. Only the trading parties know its true meaning.”

She had learned this while working at Paradis, where smugglers were notoriously cautious.

Most people in the port wore masks or concealed their features beneath loose robes. The red-haired woman standing with her hands on her hips on the steps stood out conspicuously, drawing every newcomer’s gaze.

Nangong wore a light blue open-collared shirt, jeans, and knee-high leather boots, her long legs striding confidently. If her face were covered, she might have resembled a Western cowboy.

The port wind whipped through her red hair as she squinted and waved jauntily at them.

Zhu Yu never imagined Nangong would be so flamboyant, like a red bomb, utterly unconcerned about attracting attention. It was a stark contrast to her own imagined farewell to Bai Shuzhou.

…

Why does she have to dress like that? Annoying Federation Citizen!!

Before setting off, Zhu Yu told Bai Shuzhou about her deal with Nangong, omitting any mention of the medal or her own involvement.

When Bai Shuzhou heard that Zhu Yu had faked tears and set a trap, threatening Nangong with Star Pirate weapons, she chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in her voice. She gently touched the lingering tear tracks on Zhu Yu’s cheek. “Were those tears really just an act?”

“Mhm! I gave her all your gems except for this ring,” Zhu Yu said, her head bowed.

Bai Shuzhou brushed it off casually. “That ring isn’t worth much. I’ll get you a new one when we get back.”

When we get back…

Zhu Yu adjusted Bai Shuzhou’s veil once more, took a deep breath, and pushed the wheelchair closer.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady. It’s my honor to escort you.” Nangong bowed gracefully, sweeping off her hat in a dashing salute, her tone laced with amusement.

Zhu Yu found her utterly irritating.

After the salute, Nangong extended her hand elegantly. She was using the Empire’s noble etiquette—removing her hat and kissing Bai Shuzhou’s hand to show goodwill and respect.

Though Zhu Yu didn’t know the proper procedure, she understood the gesture immediately. Her hackles rose, and she lunged forward, seizing Nangong’s hand in a firm handshake before Bai Shuzhou could accept it.

Taking advantage of the situation? Don’t pretend to be a gentleman now, especially not when you’re trying to hold Bai Shuzhou’s hand!

Zhu Yu wished she could crush Nangong’s hand to death with her grip. “Nice to meet you! Nice to meet you!”

“Heh, you’re doing well,” Nangong said, gripping Zhu Yu’s hands tighter without a change in expression.

The clash between the two Alphas intensified, their locked palms nearly sparking with friction.

They’re practically glued together. Is this necessary? Bai Shuzhou turned his head away, too lazy to watch the scene.

The two women were locked in a stalemate, neither willing to yield.

Just as she was about to lose, Zhu Yu released her grip, shaking her aching hand and forcing a smile as she glanced back. “I’ve received the full payment, Sister Nangong. Is this the kind of ship you arranged?”

The aircraft behind Nangong didn’t look much different from other starships, except for its wider nose and the Happy Travel Agency’s annual inspection sticker on the glass.

Barely legal and compliant.

“Of course,” Nangong chuckled. “The market’s tough these days. You should be grateful for what you get. Were you expecting the Sola Ring’s honor guard to escort you?”

The Sola Ring was the Federation’s capital star system, and Nangong’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

They had agreed to escort Bai Shuzhou back to Imperial territory together, confirm his safety, and then Zhu Yu would delete the video she had taken earlier and return with Nangong.

Suddenly, a red light flashed atop the tower, and all the aircraft in the port lit up with red lights, resembling a dense cluster of crimson eyes.

A group of black-clad, armed figures stormed into the port. Zhu Yu instinctively shielded Bai Shuzhou, glaring at Nangong. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

“They’re imposing a lockdown,” Nangong frowned. “Don’t worry, they won’t search my ship.”

The black-clad figures planted small flags bearing a triangular emblem identical to the one on the Black Hat’s sleeve patches. Zhu Yu’s heart skipped a beat.

“Nangong!” A dockworker rushed over and whispered something in her ear. Both women’s expressions darkened immediately.

“There’s been a…” Nangong glanced at Zhu Yu and murmured, “a major complication.”

Zhu Yu’s skin prickled under Nangong’s gaze. “Are they looking for me?”

“Not exactly, but close enough.” Nangong pulled Zhu Yu aside as the sky suddenly darkened. “They’re after Kaland—the little boss you beat up.”

Black Hat Kaland.

“Didn’t you take her away?” Zhu Yu asked.

“I did, but I never realized she was this important—important enough to lock down the entire port. The Star Pirates are far more vigilant than I anticipated.”

Nangong watched the black-clad figures, pacing restlessly for a moment before gripping Zhu Yu’s shoulder. “Now that things have come to this, you can’t leave.”

“Let’s go.”

Zhu Yu wanted to roll her eyes, but instead, she merely tugged at the corners of her lips, forcing a saccharine smile at Nangong. “But I must ensure the Princess’s safety. I can’t leave her alone.”

“What are you worried about?”

The Dragon Clan, the strongest beings in the interstellar realm, were legendary. The late First Emperor was said to have traversed black holes in his physical form.

The Federation’s decision-makers once doubted whether the Imperial Royal Family should even be considered human. Yet, in terms of perception and Mental Power control, they were undeniably the strongest, perfectly aligning with the ideals of genetic modification envisioned by Ancient Earth scientists.

Had it not been for their difficulty in producing offspring, their dominion over the interstellar realm would have been all but assured.

Though Bai Shuzhou was portrayed in Imperial propaganda as frail and sickly, indifferent to worldly affairs, Nangong couldn’t forget that the Princess had initially been renowned for her extraordinary beauty.

E-grade commoners couldn’t perceive Mental Power at all; even a parlor trick like bending a spoon with their mind was considered a marvel. D-Rank individuals could access StarNet via Brain-Machine Interfaces, a basic requirement for becoming a high-level warrior.

But Bai Shuzhou, with her SSS-grade Mental Power, had been able to materialize her Mental Power since childhood. At just six years old, she had pressed her palm against polluted soil, causing clusters of roses to erupt from the ground, blanketing the barren wasteland where nothing had grown before.

The current Emperor, Bai Qianze, possessed equally astonishing talent. Had Bai Shuzhou not fallen ill, it would have been difficult to say who would ultimately claim the throne.

Nangong, a proponent of peace, avoided unnecessary conflict. Even if Zhu Yu hadn’t come seeking her help, she would have found a way to send Bai Shuzhou out of this dangerous territory.

This hot potato, if mishandled, could lead to serious trouble. She had no desire to trigger a war at this time.

“There’s a crucial auction tonight,” Nangong said. “The lockdown threatens its cancellation, and I can’t risk that.”

After a pause, she made her decision. “Release Kaland.”

Zhu Yu watched Nangong’s narrowed eyes, a sudden sense of foreboding washing over her.

“You’ll go with her,” Nangong continued, “as a prisoner.”

Zhu Yu: ?!

She had been thinking that being captured by regular military forces was at least better than falling into the hands of Interstellar Pirates.

Zhu Yu tried to negotiate. “Or you could give her a strong sedative, increase the dosage, and then dump her back. She wouldn’t wake up for hours.”

“Impossible. Kaland isn’t an ordinary person. Anyone who attacked her would immediately raise suspicion. I need to ensure tonight’s auction proceeds smoothly.”

“Why?” Zhu Yu clenched her fists. “I only wanted to get Your Highness the Princess out safely! That was our agreement!”

Annoyed by Zhu Yu’s persistent questions, Nangong leaned in close, her lips brushing Zhu Yu’s ear as she hissed, “Tonight, a big fish will take the bait. I’ve been staking out this spot for two years!”

What’s that got to do with me? Zhu Yu thought. You cunning viper—you’re a double agent!

Bai Shuzhou watched from the side as the two women drew closer, then drifted further away, whispering secrets as if no one else were present. His pupils narrowed into dangerous vertical slits.

Nangong stiffened, glancing back out of the corner of her eye. A smirk tugged at her lips. So the rumors of their discord are false. At least, the Princess’s possessiveness is far stronger than I imagined.

When they first married, many in the Federation had speculated that Bai Shuzhou had chosen Zhu Yu to win the support of the commoners. But if that were true, the sacrifice seemed far too great.

Zhu Yu tried to steal a glance at Bai Shuzhou, but Nangong’s eyebrow twitched. Before Zhu Yu could turn, Nangong grabbed a handful of her hair, twirling it around her finger.

“Look closely,” Nangong said. “Your people are being sold, abused, and used as breeding stock. Unless we strike at the source, how many more will suffer?”

The source… Zhu Yu clutched her scalp, glaring at Nangong. The pain jolted her thoughts into sharp focus. She stumbled back, horrified by the implication. “Are there collaborators within the Federal Central?”

Federal Central, the Federation’s highest governing body.

Nangong paused subtly for a moment before swiftly changing the subject. “Are you Imperials so clean? Over all these years, how much have you turned a blind eye to buying?”

“You’re the Empire’s Commoner’s Star! You swore an oath when you received your medal! You have a responsibility to stay and stop all this!”

“I’m not! I’m just a wanted criminal! Getting the Princess back is my top priority!” Zhu Yu retorted.

From childhood, she had been taught that self-preservation came first. Even when her sister beat her, she was told not to cry out, lest she provoke her attacker further, and to look for an opportunity to escape. Though, truth be told, she had rarely been beaten by her sister.

Even my mom never hit me!

The moment she arrived here, she was attacked by bugs, hunted by her own people, crashed her ship, and got kicked by Interstellar Pirates during an ambush. Now they wanted her to willingly walk into the enemy’s lair? That was a death sentence!

“I have to personally escort the Princess back. If you force me to go to the Star Pirates, I’ll expose you! We’ll all suffer together!”

Nangong nearly fainted from Zhu Yu’s gangster-like outburst.

“Zhu Yu, you’re a warrior! Act like a responsible Alpha!”

Nangong grabbed Zhu Yu by the collar, pulling her close with a threatening glare. “You’re not a prisoner of war, you’re an undercover agent. Once this is over, I might even return your medal.”

Zhu Yu tilted her head back, flashing a defiant smile. “Keep it. It’s yours now.”

Nangong couldn’t help but think it was a waste that Zhu Yu wasn’t an actress. Last night, when she had given the medal, she had seemed so humiliated and indignant, as if she had suffered some great injustice.

Zhu Yu’s gaze drifted to Bai Shuzhou. She released Nangong’s collar, her smile turning light and airy as she smoothed the wrinkles on her collar. “Alright, cooperation’s off. Let’s capture Bai Shuzhou. Imagine the sensation it would cause across the universe if we auctioned off a Dragon Clan Omega at tonight’s auction.”

“I recall your Empire recently achieved a major victory in suppressing the Star Pirates. I wonder what they’ll think of this…”

She had struck a fatal blow.

Zhu Yu’s pupils dilated in shock. “You can’t be serious! Are you insane? How could you auction her off?!”

She whipped her head around to look at Bai Shuzhou, who was already staring back at her.

Though separated by a veil of white gauze, Zhu Yu could almost feel Bai Shuzhou’s gentle, concerned gaze.

The memory of the Star Pirate’s leering face flashed through her mind, and the thought of falling into their hands again sent a shiver down Zhu Yu’s spine. She clenched her fists tightly.

Nangong pressed her advantage, whispering, “If you agree to help, I’ll send you back as soon as the auction ends. You can be with your beloved Princess again.”

Threats and promises—she had covered all her bases.

“Really?” Zhu Yu hesitated for a few seconds. “I’ll agree if you guarantee two things.”

Nangong frowned. “Two things?”

Zhu Yu: “First, ensure Bai Shuzhou’s safe return home. Second, guarantee my survival.”

“……”

Nangong shook her hand. “Deal.”

Zhu Yu gave a perfunctory squeeze, already mentally rehearsing how to explain the situation to Bai Shuzhou. But Nangong had already wrapped an arm around her and turned her around with a smile.

Nangong: “I’ll borrow your Little Yu for a bit.”

Bai Shuzhou narrowed her eyes.

Goosebumps prickled Zhu Yu’s skin. She immediately pushed Nangong away and hurried back to Bai Shuzhou, crouching down to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You should go ahead. I might be delayed—it’s about—”

Nangong clamped a hand over Zhu Yu’s mouth, forcing a strained smile as she dragged her backward. “Don’t say another word!” she hissed. “Tell her everything, and you might as well stay here forever.”

“Okay,” Zhu Yu mumbled, pinching Nangong’s hand in disappointment.

Bai Shuzhou watched their exchange, her eyes darkening. “Zhu Yu,” she said softly, “don’t forget what I told you.”

Zhu Yu lowered her head and nodded vigorously. “I won’t! I remember every word you said!”

The starship’s doors slid open, revealing two tall, well-dressed attendants. Nangong gestured politely for Bai Shuzhou to board.

One of the attendants stepped forward to assist with Bai Shuzhou’s wheelchair, but she stopped him with a cold glare.

“No need,” she said, her lips pressed into a thin line. Without asking any questions, she turned her wheelchair and rolled onto the ramp alone.

The ship’s hull was emblazoned with large, garish red characters: “Happy Travel Agency.”

As the hatch slowly closed, Zhu Yu lowered her head and gripped her wrist.

She couldn’t bear to look at Bai Shuzhou. She feared she wouldn’t turn back, yet dreaded the thought of her actually turning back to stay.

So she kept her head down, waiting for seconds to pass, then more seconds.

The wind was light, and nothing happened.

She was really gone, just like that? Didn’t she say they’d meet again?

The starship activated, and Zhu Yu walked forward alongside it, her eyes fixed on the dusty window, hoping Bai Shuzhou would glance at her, just once.

For a moment, she suddenly understood the heroic protagonists in movies—how a single, fleeting glance from their beloved could trigger a super-evolution, making them fearless against the world’s storms and capable of overcoming any obstacle.

If those pale blue eyes would only look her way, Zhu Yu could wave a casual farewell, flash a practiced smile at Nangong, and say, “Just an undercover mission? A trivial matter, nothing to worry about!”

The surroundings were silent, the starship leaving a gray trail of exhaust in the sky.

Zhu Yu couldn’t follow any further.

“Are you really crying this time?” Nangong cautiously kept her distance, bending down to look at Zhu Yu and offering a piece of paper with her fingertips.

“Crying? For what? It’s just a trivial matter, nothing to worry about!” Zhu Yu retorted stubbornly. “I’m mourning those damned Interstellar Pirates! Their doom is at hand!”

Nangong chuckled. “Well then, it’s up to you.”

High above the clouds, the Happy Travel Agency starship silently deviated from its planned course.

Inside the dilapidated vessel, a hidden world unfolded. As the outer door sealed shut, the leisurely attendants straightened their postures and immediately pressed a button. A pale blue energy shield descended, forming an invisible cage that locked into place.

Of course, they would return the esteemed Princess to her home—but not yet.

With the auction imminent, no missteps could be tolerated. The best course of action was to detain her, confining all uncontrollable factors.

Bai Shuzhou quietly closed her eyes, her expression devoid of joy or sorrow.

The Federal Agent stole glances at her. Though Bai Sha’s face was hidden beneath a veil, the woman’s faint aura of melancholy was palpable. Feeling a pang of sympathy, the agent lowered her voice. “I’ll get you a blanket. You’ll be home before you know it.”

Home? Bai Shuzhou curled her lips into a cold smile.

As the agent turned to leave, tendrils of Mental Power silently bypassed the surveillance systems and pressed against the control panel. Line after line of precise commands scrolled across the main screen.

Inside the cabin, the agent had just pulled out a brand-new blanket when she suddenly felt a faint tremor beneath her feet.

This flight path was remote and secure, with radar monitoring showing no anomalies. No accidents were possible—unless…

She immediately reached for the sidearm at her hip and slowly turned around.

She still wanted to struggle, but as the door creaked open, her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

The Snow Leopard materialized as if from thin air, crouching silently beside the silver-haired woman. Despite its massive, ferocious build, it seemed as docile as a house cat in her presence. Only when it lifted its head did its predatory nature become apparent, its irises refracting a dangerous aura.

The Empire’s elite Snow Leopard Knights, directly under Bai Qianze’s command!

Outside the cabin, the faint silhouette of a pure white Royal Warship could be glimpsed. These lunatics truly possessed interstellar jump capabilities, but how had they obtained the precise coordinates?

The Federal Agent swallowed hard. “Your Highness the Princess, what is the meaning of this? We only meant well. Surely there’s been some misunderstanding?”

Bai Shuzhou tore off her white veil, revealing a face favored by the Creator. Her vertical pupils gazed down at the agent with cold indifference.

“Whether it’s a misunderstanding is for me to decide.”

“Tell me your true plans.”

The overwhelming scent of roses pressed down like a suffocating blanket. Cold sweat soaked the Federal Agent’s back. Having initially thought she’d landed a plum assignment, her knees buckled, and she barely managed to stay upright. Her mind reeled in terror: Which bastard spread the rumor that Bai Shuzhou was weak and sickly?!

Is this part of the Empire’s scheme? No wonder they sent an Omega alone.

The agent’s panic grew. This undercover mission was tied to the power struggle between the two factions. How could she reveal it to an outsider? If the Federal Central’s involvement were exposed, they’d all be doomed!

Before Bai Shuzhou could act, the agent bit down on the cyanide capsule hidden in her molar, collapsing to the floor with a thud.

The coldness in Bai Shuzhou’s eyes deepened. If they were truly acting out of goodwill, why resort to such measures?

She had long since noticed the destination wasn’t Imperial territory but a nearby Federation fortress. She understood starship navigation and was familiar with the vessel’s controls.

After securing the agent, the Snow Leopard Knight bowed low beside Bai Shuzhou, pressing a hand to her heart. “Your Majesty is deeply concerned for your safety. Please return to the palace at once. General Izalia will arrive shortly to assume command of all related matters and conduct a thorough investigation. Rest assured, Your Majesty.”

Bai Shuzhou said coldly, “I will personally oversee this matter.”

The Snow Leopard Knight frowned, but before she could speak, Bai Shuzhou’s overwhelming aura intensified. Her slender fingers gripped the wheelchair armrests as she slowly rose to her feet.

The oppressive force crashed down like a tidal wave, surging outward in all directions. Everyone around her collapsed to their knees.

At the window, her inorganic, pale blue eyes gazed down at the chaotic city sprawled beneath the sky.

She lifted her sleeve, revealing the silver exoskeleton beneath—the same one Black Hat had worn.

Zhu Yu had explained her deal with Nangong, then carefully helped Bai Shuzhou put on the weapon, claiming it was for self-defense.

Zhu Yu earnestly taught her how to use it, and Bai Shuzhou listened quietly.

The woman’s tender, lingering touch felt like a promise of forever. Her fingertips brushed against Bai Shuzhou’s joints, as if she could still feel Zhu Yu’s burning warmth.

“Zhu… Yu,” Bai Shuzhou murmured, her voice low and hoarse, the name caught between her teeth.

How dare you betray me, deceive me, again and again?

The woman jolted awake in the darkness.

Beneath the pale dome, she found herself surrounded by people.

“Is this really Zhu Yu? No way! She doesn’t have any ID on her.”

“Do we even need proof? Who else could have beaten Black Hat like that? Honestly, she’s not all that impressive. We caught her, didn’t we?”

“The scar on her abdomen matches the description. It must be her.”

“Let’s take a photo first and send it to my girlfriend. Say cheese!”

Dazed and disoriented, she vaguely felt someone step on her.

Her senses seemed distant, numbed by the lingering effects of the anesthetic. She couldn’t move, her thoughts detached, as if she were observing everything from a godlike perspective, watching a movie screen flicker on and off.

She shouldn’t have woken up so soon, far earlier than expected. Sometimes, consciousness is a torment.

Nangong had promised her an extra million yuan and personally administered the anesthetic.

Only now did Zhu Yu understand why Sister Nangong had been so generous.

It was for the medical bills.

The crowd surrounding her was like a pack of bloodthirsty beasts, eager to tear the flesh from her bones. Punches and kicks rained down, echoing dully against her solid flesh.

The throbbing pain and crude insults were enough to confirm this was no dream, no wrist-pinching needed.

A sinister excitement flickered across their faces, as if they were finally settling an old score, or like hyenas reveling in stolen carrion. But when a young man noticed Zhu Yu’s eyes flutter open, his raised foot froze mid-air, and he even stumbled back a step, hastily covering his face.

The instinctive fear, etched into their bones, spread like a plague. One by one, they froze in place, their movements grinding to a halt.

Even in her current state—disheveled, out of uniform, unarmed, and with her limbs bound—Zhu Yu’s eyes blinked slowly, deliberately.

She was watching them.

Someone muttered a curse and tried to retreat, only to be shoved back to the front by a burly hand.

Butcher Chen, his chest adorned with a necklace of boar tusks, stepped forward, his eyes blazing with malice. He glared around the circle and roared, “You bunch of cowards! Scared already?”

The skinny man who had been pushed forward protested weakly, “But… it’s Zhu Yu! Remember those previous raids…”

For a commoner to rise through the ranks, they had to climb step by step, earning their way through battlefield merits. In recent years, Zhu Yu had participated in all five major campaigns against the Star Pirates. Her combat style was utterly ruthless and unpredictable, slaughtering enemies with a smile and harboring an insatiable thirst for revenge.

Even now, the Star Pirates still trembled at the mere mention of her name.

Even if Zhu Yu were on the verge of death, they wouldn’t dare let her see their faces. What if she returned as a vengeful ghost?

Under the terrified gazes of the crowd, Zhu Yu slowly, very slowly, moved her fingers. Uncertain if her attempt had succeeded, she could only gauge the reactions on the faces around her.

The sensation of being unable to control her body was unbearable, like being trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn’t awaken.

She kept falling, endlessly falling, unable to see the bottom.

Bai Shuzhou… her legs… was this how she felt?

Zhu Yu exhaled softly through her throat. Good. She’s already been sent away. She’s safe.

The Empire would provide her with the best medical team. Then she would order a thorough investigation and reform of these systemic problems. And with Bai Shuzhou by her side, everything would be resolved perfectly.

Amidst the relentless, dull ache, Zhu Yu savored this small moment of sweetness, even feeling a strange sense of pride.

You won’t be gloating for long. My wife will take care of you!

Oh, and Nangong, I hope she doesn’t hesitate too much at tonight’s auction.

Seeing the faint smile on Zhu Yu’s face, the crowd shuddered. Only Butcher Chen grew even more enraged, his boot arcing through the air with a violent kick aimed at the woman’s face.

Someone quickly grabbed her, pulling her back with all their might. “Boss said no hitting the face! Otherwise, we won’t be able to recognize her. Anything else goes!”

Butcher Chen spat at Zhu Yu.

“Pah! What are you smiling at? Do you still think you’re that high-and-mighty Commoner’s Star? Let me tell you, you’re nothing but a wanted criminal the Empire will discard once they’re done with you! Which Noble in the Empire would ever look down at you? A half-breed, a mongrel, who only climbed to the Imperial Family by exploiting her looks!”

I climbed there through my own abilities! Zhu Yu smiled back at her.

Butcher Chen snarled coldly, each word like a dagger aimed at her heart:

“You’re useless now. They’ll discard you like a worn-out millstone. The entire Empire is hunting you. Do you really think the Princess has taken a liking to you? She’s just using your reputation to build her own power!”

My honor.

If she weren’t paralyzed, Zhu Yu would have grabbed a megaphone and blasted it in Butcher Chen’s face, screaming, Envy me! Jealousy! Hate me!

This petty, vindictive mindset was subtly conveyed through her smile. Butcher Chen, already on edge, nearly fainted from rage, lunging forward to hack Zhu Yu to pieces. The others frantically restrained her.

Beatings were one thing, but Zhu Yu still had value. They couldn’t kill her outright. This was Zhu Yu’s only leverage.

As the anesthetic wore off, the pain paradoxically sharpened her awareness of being alive. Good. Just a minor fatal wound, then!

Zhu Yu had long noticed her astonishing constitution. Wounds always healed remarkably quickly. Perhaps it was because she was an Alpha?

It didn’t… it didn’t hurt at all.

All her senses felt distant, like phantom limb pain. The itching and agony were trapped beneath her skin, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach them, couldn’t find relief.

The old wound in her abdomen seemed to have reopened.

What kind of anesthetic did Nangong use? she wondered. She said a double dose would knock me out until it was over. I shouldn’t have trusted her so easily, especially when traveling.

Worse than the pain was the hunger. She’d rushed out this morning without eating. Her stomach was empty, her heart felt hollow, and she felt like she was floating in mid-air.

Zhu Yu stared at the pale dome above. In a daze, snowflakes began to fall, and the small, white-haired Bai Shuzhou reappeared, offering her a piece of candy.

Sweet.

She curled her tongue around it, savoring the taste, reluctant to let it melt too quickly.

As her strength returned, Zhu Yu belatedly tasted the metallic sweetness lingering in her mouth. She realized she had swallowed bl00d. The buzzing in her ears began to fade.

The people who had imprisoned her in the cage were moving. Layer after layer of doors opened as they descended in an elevator.

The access card looked familiar. Zhu Yu squinted at it for a moment, her heart rate suddenly slowing—the Paradis logo, but the palace was inverted.

Paradis, Paradise.

Beneath Paradise lies Hell.

Only when the final gate swung open did Zhu Yu truly understand the meaning of those words.

The bl00d-red cage stood in stark contrast to the grand, gilded hall. Despite the vast space, the Beastmen were forced to huddle in the cramped cage, any movement causing the chains to rattle.

“……!”

Butcher Chen kicked Zhu Yu, a dull pain eliciting a muffled groan. Finally, a twisted satisfaction flickered across his face as he arrogantly banged on the cage, the metal ringing sharply.

“Come and see, everyone! This is your Imperial’s great heroine, Zhu Yu! Now she’s nothing but a tail-wagging, begging piece of trash!”

“You were abandoned long ago. What’s the difference between Imperial commoners and livestock? We gave you a new life—show some gratitude!”

The numb Beastmen turned their heads, their eyes widening in disbelief. Moments later, tears welled up in their eyes.

Who hadn’t dreamed of soaring to glory and rising above their station? But Zhu Yu had embodied that dream.

Born into poverty with meager talent, she had climbed step by step, each achievement meticulously documented. Yet now this fallen star lay before them, battered and broken.

The Beastmen clawed at the cage, reaching out to her. In the dim light, only their pairs of hopeful eyes shone clearly.

Zhu Yu had initially only wanted to find a more comfortable position to lie in, one that wouldn’t aggravate her wounds. But amidst the Star Pirates’ angry shouts, she heard a low murmur, a voice crying out her name, again and again, like a stream swelling into a river, flowing with the slow rhythm of her pulse.

Zhu Yu, Zhu Yu!

Even in this remote corner of the galaxy, so many people knew her?

As the crowd’s calls grew louder, she suddenly recognized a familiar voice: “Little Yu?!”

Zhu Yu turned her head and saw Little Shan standing in the shadows, pushing her way to the front, her eyes already brimming with tears.

Butcher Chen, smug about his “killing the chicken to scare the monkey” tactic, believed he had achieved two goals with one move. Could Zhu Yu still maintain her composure now?

Yet the clamorous crowd gradually fell silent, all eyes fixed on something behind her, not with fear or sorrow—

Zhu Yu leaned against the bars, wriggling upward like a caterpillar.

By the time Butcher Chen realized something was wrong and hastily turned around, he was struck dumb with shock. The slender woman had already risen to her feet, leaning against the cage, a radiant smile slowly blooming on her face as she waved to the crowd.

Has she gone mad? How could she possibly stand up?!

What was supposed to be a humiliating public parade of a prisoner had transformed into a spectacle worthy of a superstar. The woman’s lips moved slightly as she clenched her outstretched hand and made a gesture toward the crowd.

Freedom.

Peace doves spread their wings and soared upward—a signal Little Shan had taught her. The foreman patrolling the nutrient solution factory was notoriously unpredictable, making secret signals essential for slacking off.

What she really wanted to say was, Don’t be afraid.

But her throat was too parched; any attempt to speak would only trigger a fit of coughing. Even she wasn’t entirely sure why she had stood up. Curling up and staying quiet would have been safer, more in line with her survival instincts.

Yet under the gaze of those bright, expectant eyes, she felt compelled to rise. She obeyed, responding to their unspoken hope.

Everyone held their breath, watching her slowly stand, her disheveled appearance unable to mask her unwavering resolve.

Dignity and hope balanced on the scales of her outstretched arms.

Little Shan struggled to reconcile this timid woman, who constantly fretted about dinner, with the radiant Zhu Yu she saw on television.

Though Zhu Yu had always carried the title of “commoner,” this was the first time she truly felt the reality of it so close, so tangible.

Even as the Star Pirates, enraged beyond measure, kicked her knees from outside the cage, they couldn’t force her to kneel or submit. She gripped the bars with her strong hands, the lingering effects of the anesthetic slowing the pain to a dull ache.

The Imperial crowd’s fervent shouts gradually drowned out the sounds of flesh striking metal.

I haven’t given up. I haven’t been abandoned.

So please, don’t you give up either!

The clanging of struggling chains echoed through the arena. Chains could restrain fear, but they couldn’t contain rage.

The crowd was reaching a fever pitch, on the verge of spiraling out of control.

This outcome was the exact opposite of what had been predicted. Butcher Chen wiped a bead of cold sweat from his brow and abruptly struck Zhu Yu unconscious with the butt of his rifle. Bl00d trickled from the corner of her forehead, staining her stark black-and-white eyes with a sinister crimson.

Before her head slumped forward, Zhu Yu’s consciousness clearly wavered. As her eyelids drooped, obscuring the faint light above, her aura suddenly shifted. From the shadows, a glimpse of her face revealed a seething malice, a murderous intent that transformed her into an entirely different person.

I… will… remember… you.

In the blink of an eye, before the skinny man could even scream in terror, Zhu Yu’s eyes had already softened, and she collapsed limply.

“Lock her up on the second floor! With the Phoenix!” Butcher Chen barked, his gruff voice barely concealing his panic.

Paradis, Second Underground Level.

The icy chill permeated every corner of the darkness. An inverted pyramid hung suspended from the ceiling, its structure mirroring the one below. It was either the height of extravagance or the next layer of hell.

Platinum tiles paved the floor, and antiques of wildly varying styles were scattered throughout, each meticulously labeled with identification numbers. At the deepest end stood a pure gold cage.

Time stretched on, its passage unnoticed.

The frigid air made Zhu Yu instinctively lean closer to the furry warmth beside her. Even through the icy bars, the Phoenix’s feathers radiated warmth.

“Little Yu, Little Yu, wake up! Are you alright?”

Warm water moistened her parched lips. Zhu Yu slowly opened her eyes, a flicker of recognition lighting her face. “Little Shan!”

Her voice was hoarse as she exhaled softly, watching her breath condense into a wisp of white vapor—a strange sight in the summer heat, as if a part of her soul had drifted away.

Leaning against the furry iron cage behind her, Zhu Yu allowed Little Shan to feed her water. She glanced around nervously. “How did you get here? Will they hurt you?”

Catching a glimpse of a feather brushing against her cheek, Zhu Yu turned her head, startled, and scrambled backward several steps on all fours.

So big! Such a huge bird!

Pure white wings enveloped its body, the bird remained motionless, sheltering itself beneath its wings.

“They were worried you’d die, so they allowed me to visit. I’m sorry, I could only bring water,” Little Shan said, blinking. In truth, this was the result of their collective resistance, but after all their struggle, they had only managed to secure a bowl of water.

Zhu Yu’s exaggerated reaction stifled Little Shan’s tragic sentimentality. “They call it the Phoenix,” she continued. “Tonight’s grand finale auction is ‘Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix.'”

“Phoenix?” Zhu Yu pressed her face against the bars, leaning closer for a better look.

“Don’t stare. It’s a genetically modified Peacock, an experimental subject. She doesn’t like being disturbed.” Little Shan clenched her fists in humiliation. “I heard them say she hasn’t eaten or drunk anything for days. They’re keeping her alive with forced nutrient injections. She refuses to be treated like a toy.”

The great white bird lay listlessly, showing no reaction to the commotion around it. Beneath its heavy eyelids, a pair of murky black eyes stared out.

Zhu Yu glimpsed profound loneliness and sorrow in its gaze. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered.

Her fingers twitched, and she made the freedom gesture again, winking at Little Shan.

Little Shan blinked in response, a silent acknowledgment of their shared secret, like a covert gesture in class.

Zhu Yu, completely unaware that she had become someone else’s trusted figure, glanced at the small pouch tucked into her lap. Little Shan, keeping an eye on the guards outside the glass, swiftly retrieved a small package from the hidden pocket as Zhu Yu had indicated.

Holding her breath, Little Shan felt as if she had been entrusted with a mission, her hands trembling with excitement. “This is…!”

Zhu Yu beamed. “Snacks! Let’s share them.”

Little Shan: ……

After a moment, she chuckled helplessly and opened the package. The top piece still bore the sharp imprint of teeth.

These pastries had been a gift from Little Oriole’s family. Bai Shuzhou hadn’t eaten much, so Zhu Yu had wrapped up the leftovers, planning to nibble on them during their journey. She never imagined they would come in handy here.

Naturally, she deliberately removed the piece Bai Shuzhou had bitten, concealing her own secret thoughts.

The pastries had been flattened, but thankfully, their flavor remained intact. The surprisingly high-quality oiled paper kept the sesame seeds and sweet filling perfectly preserved. Zhu Yu savored the taste, a blissful smile spreading across her face.

Reaching through the cage bars, she tentatively poked the White Bird. “Want some? It’s really good! You need energy to…”

White Bird instinctively dodged, her pitch-black eyes reflecting Zhu Yu’s disheveled appearance.

Little Shan helpfully pointed out, “You’re poking her butt.”

“Oh, oh, oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize,” Zhu Yu apologized.

She persisted in offering the fragrant pastries. White Bird hesitated for a long time, only slowly transforming into human form and accepting the treats after seeing Zhu Yu and Little Shan eat them first.

In stark contrast to her massive beast form, her human form was that of a slender girl, appearing to be around Zhu Yu’s age. Even her eyelashes were white, and her long, flowing hair cascaded to the ground. The chains chafing her ankles had worn them raw and bloody.

Zhu Yu froze at the sight of her white hair, her mind involuntarily flashing to Bai Shuzhou. Yet the two couldn’t be more different. White Bird ate with loud, smacking noises, carefully licking every last crumb from her fingers afterward.

Zhu Yu’s nose stung with emotion. She bit off the last bite of her pastry and shoved the rest at White Bird.

Seeing the guards didn’t intervene, Zhu Yu beckoned Little Shan closer and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, the Princess has already returned. She’ll come rescue us soon!”

Little Shan paused, then asked softly, “But they said White Bird escaped from the Empire’s laboratory. Is that true?”

“I don’t entirely trust their words, but initially, White Bird hated Imperials even more than Star Pirates.”

Zhu Yu’s pupils trembled as she met Little Shan’s expectant gaze. She desperately wanted to deny it, to denounce it as Star Pirate lies meant to sow discord!

But deep down, she knew the Imperial Royal Academy of Sciences did conduct live experiments, especially on Ability Users. Humanity had established its foothold in the vast cosmos through genetic modification, and once they tasted the benefits, they became insatiable.

Zhu Yu wasn’t good at lying. She could only avert her gaze and try to change the subject. “Perhaps there’s still a chance to turn things around.”

Little Shan shook her head. “We’re being sold tonight. What future awaits us then?”

No, the auction won’t go as planned. Nangong will round up all these criminals, including that damned Umbrella!

But what happens afterward? How will the Federation handle these Imperials? This scandal could easily be exploited by malicious actors to ignite conflict between the two nations.

More accurately, the people of the Chaos Zone have no nationality. Zhu Yu gripped her wrist, her breathing tight.

“Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix is the grand finale. We know of a secret passage. The guards will be scattered once the auction begins, giving us a chance to escape. One of the administrators is a mixed-bl00d; her mother was Imperial.”

Little Shan paused, lowering her head with a hint of shame. “But the guards are very strong… Would you join us, Little Yu?”

This request was undoubtedly dangerous, but it was their last chance.

Once the auction began, guests would be seated with their invitations, and Paradis would be completely locked down by its security system.

Zhu Yu scratched her head. She hated chase scenes even in video games, let alone a life-or-death adventure.

If they could just wait for Nangong to make her move, catch the big fish, and close the net, they’d be safe. Bai Shuzhou would never abandon his people!

Seeing Zhu Yu’s silence, Little Shan sighed softly. “It’s too much to ask, isn’t it? You can refuse. I understand.”

White Bird continued to quietly eat her pastries, seemingly uninterested in their conversation. She carefully held the oiled paper with both hands, exhaled a small fireball, and watched as the cooled pastry gradually curled up under the heat, turning golden brown.

She was an Ability User!

The orange-yellow firelight reflected on White Bird’s cheek and the tips of her hair, revealing a sickly pallor. As her wide sleeves slipped down, Zhu Yu noticed a deep, pink scar on her wrist, strikingly similar to the surgical scars on Bai Shuzhou’s body.

Zhu Yu involuntarily held her breath and rolled up White Bird’s sleeves, then the hem of her robe. Scars crisscrossed the girl’s pale skin, a horrifying sight.

A Peacock with Fire-type Ability had been forcibly transformed into a so-called “Phoenix.”

White Bird flinched slightly but didn’t try to pull away. She numbly lowered her gaze to Zhu Yu’s trembling hands, seemingly unable to comprehend.

In their simple worldview, anyone who shared kindness and food was a good person. So even if she was afraid, even if it hurt, it didn’t matter. White Bird obediently closed her eyes.

Zhu Yu’s heart clenched painfully, a mix of bitterness and agitation churning within her. She took a deep breath and whispered, “What should I do?”

In the Paradis underground layer, oxygen flowed ceaselessly from sources hundreds of meters below the surface.

The circular landscape, adorned with gilded carvings, rendered money meaningless here—a mere number. By dragging the suspended holographic screen, one could view tonight’s auction items in panoramic detail, without a single blind spot.

VIP guests, their invitations verified, took their seats one by one. They had gathered here from across the interstellar realms, deep within the most desolate and chaotic planet, to witness the decadent extravagance that lay beyond the bounds of order.

Everyone wore masks, and the booths were equipped with identity obfuscators that concealed even their voices.

A woman draped in Arlanka silk adjusted her cloak, her jade-like fingers flawless and white. A crimson mole flickered at her wrist, disappearing and reappearing beneath her wide sleeves.

She moved with deliberate slowness. As a wealthy merchant brushed past her, his gaze involuntarily slid down to follow the crimson mole. Before he could even blink, a towering figure at the woman’s side blocked his view.

“What are you looking at?” Golden eyes glared down coldly. Even though the man had deliberately lowered his voice, it still carried a palpable killing intent.

The merchant hastily retreated, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

Only the wealthiest and most powerful could gain access to Paradis’s underground layer. Even those who reigned supreme in their respective star systems maintained a low profile here, for one could never know who they might be facing.

The woman frowned slightly before turning to the wealthy merchant and whispering, “My apologies.”

Her short, crisp words, delivered in a voice processed by the System with a faint electrical hum, were remarkably pleasing to the ear.

While the merchant remained stunned, the woman had already entered a higher-tier VIP box, her haughty figure completely obscured by her swaying cloak.

The indicator lights in the VIP boxes lit up one by one. Tonight, every SVIP box—reserved for those with fortunes exceeding a hundred million—was fully occupied.

“Izalia, you should maintain a low profile,” a cold voice echoed.

“As you command,” General Izelia, the youngest Tiger General in Imperial history, replied with a smile, her gaze sweeping across the circular seating arrangement. She willingly knelt on one knee and lightly kissed the woman’s hand. “I can hardly wait… to tear them all to shreds.”

Izalia was Zhu Yu’s former direct superior and one of Bai Shuzhou’s most formidable pursuers.

She had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

On stage, the host, beaming with enthusiasm, began introducing a high-purity Crystal Mineral. Energy was the lifeblood of the Interstellar Era, with large Starships and Mechas treating Crystal Minerals as their very hearts.

Ivory-colored paddles were raised in succession, quickly driving the price to astronomical heights.

The SVIP section remained quiet. While the Crystal Mineral was expensive, it wasn’t rare enough. Everyone knew the true treasures would be unveiled during the grand finale.

Suddenly, ripples splashed across the pool in front of the stage, scattering the fish in panic. Fiery colors swirled, and a strange, vibrant crimson resonance shimmered across the surface of the Crystal Mineral.

The host paused briefly, but with her exceptional composure, she immediately seized the opportunity to highlight the Crystal Mineral’s purity. Only highly concentrated, high-purity energy could generate such a magnetic field resonance, a clear testament to the auction item’s exceptional quality.

During her pause, the Black-Clad Team Leader covered his earpiece with one hand, turned silently, and vanished into the staff corridor. The moment he elegantly closed the door, he broke into a sprint.

Alarms blared through the comms channel, hurried footsteps shattering the artificial tranquility. The aftershocks of the explosion continued, even the ten-meter-thick Mimetic Silence Layer trembling.

This underground palace was as impregnable as a fortress, its only vulnerability—the air circulation system—now breached by a gaping black hole. Flames roared fiercely, and engineers were rushing to the scene.

The Black-Clad Team Leader’s face turned ashen. “How could the Phoenix have escaped? Even if she could still fly, her size makes it impossible for her to fit through the ventilation ducts!”

“She’s in human form,” a manager corrected slowly. “All the birds are helping her. According to Eastern legends, the Phoenix commands all birds.”

“Phoenix my ass! We all know she’s just a failed experiment, not a real Phoenix!”

“This is our first time headlining a live broadcast! If anything goes wrong, the Boss will kill us all!”

They had meticulously rehearsed the “Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix” performance, and with the auction imminent, their star attraction had escaped?!

Thud.

Butcher Chen crashed out of the flames, his eyes completely obscured by bl00d and grime. Roaring with fury, he bellowed, “It’s Zhu Yu! Again! She must be torn to pieces!”

“I knew it! I always knew we shouldn’t have kept that cursed star!”

The poisoned curved blade in his hand glinted coldly as bl00d streamed from the pipes, gradually pooling into a small river.

In the pitch-black tunnel, a gale howled as faint bioluminescent sparks flickered and vanished into Zhu Yu’s abdomen. She pressed one hand against her wound, bracing herself against the rough, uneven rock wall with the other.

Behind her, the flames still raged, but she couldn’t see any light when she looked up.

Yet the sound of birds flapping their wings echoed clearly in the narrow passage. The “freedom” curve formed by her curled fingers trembled beneath her palm.

Countless small birds frantically tugged at Zhu Yu’s clothes, pulling her upward. The fabric stretched taut, chafing against her bloodied wound. Zhu Yu let out a soft groan.

“Go on ahead,” she murmured. “Don’t worry, I’m still useful. They won’t kill me.”

Just moments ago, she had witnessed the true Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix. As the Phoenix unleashed a fiery orb that melted its cage, the birds swarmed around the white-haired woman, lifting her skyward like the moon amidst a constellation—a sight of breathtaking grandeur.

It felt like the most magnificent adventure, and Zhu Yu was determined to protect this dream.

But she wasn’t a bird. In this ethereal dream, her weight proved too much. No matter how desperately the birds strained, they couldn’t lift her.

The sound of gunfire drew closer. A long-tailed tit nuzzled Zhu Yu’s cheek, chirping urgently, “Chirp! Chirp!”

“Go now,” Zhu Yu urged. “I’m the strongest Alpha here. You’re only slowing me down.”

The small birds stubbornly circled her, refusing to leave.

Zhu Yu touched their downy feathers with her bloodstained fingertips. “The Princess will come for me,” she reassured them. “Don’t worry.”

Hearing this, the long-tailed tit blinked, a teardrop the size of a soybean falling from its eye. “Chirp?”

Zhu Yu didn’t understand bird language, but she knew Little Shan well. She nodded solemnly, her expression inscrutable. “Yes, it’s all part of the plan.”

As footsteps grew louder, Zhu Yu grabbed two birds and tossed them upward. Her slender frame inevitably slid further down the slope. “Go now,” she whispered.

A faint warmth flowed from her fingertips into Little Shan’s wings. Thump, thump. Finally, propelled by Zhu Yu’s racing heartbeat, they spread their wings and soared skyward.

Zhu Yu let out a sigh of relief, only then realizing her entire body was sticky, unable to distinguish between sweat and bl00d.

From childhood, she had always been well-behaved, never engaging in fights or even arguments. But today, having voluntarily taken on this crucial mission, she experienced a profound realization for the first time: power.

Not the latent potential unleashed when pushed to her limits.

It was as if she instinctively knew how to throw a punch, how to dodge. Her bl00d surged with awakening, and even the most ferocious Star Pirates couldn’t halt her advance. In a daze, she even heard a faint, delighted chuckle.

This is the true power you possess—the power to destroy everything.

The ring flashed with a crimson glow. The girl exhaled sharply, finally collapsing from exhaustion, sliding downward.

The guards stationed at the cave entrance were already fully armed, countless pitch-black gun barrels aimed at Zhu Yu’s heart and head. Butcher Chen was carried onto a stretcher, still roaring, “Kill her! Kill her!”

A purple scepter halted before the girl, its tip tapping the ground with a clink. Everyone respectfully retreated half a step, holding their breath, fearing they might be caught in the crossfire of anger.

“Little one, you’ve cost us dearly.”

Boss Paradis bent down, using her scepter to brush aside the stray strands of hair framing Zhu Yu’s face. Having traveled far and wide, she had encountered countless individuals, yet Zhu Yu’s gaze defied expectations. It wasn’t the defiant, beast-like glare she had anticipated.

Instead, Zhu Yu’s eyes were clear, black and white distinct, devoid of any trace of malice. This was utterly perplexing.

To have climbed to such a position, Zhu Yu’s hands must have been stained with far more bl00d than she herself had shed. No matter how gloriously the Empire had initially portrayed her, her deeply bloodstained record remained undeniable.

Zhu Yu should have been a hypocritical madwoman.

This wasn’t some reality show. How could she so selflessly sacrifice herself to save a flock of worthless birds?

The woman murmured softly, “How touching. I’m almost moved to tears. Your eyes remind me of a stray dog I had as a child. From the moment I could remember, it had always protected me. Such fond memories…”

A sharp fingernail traced Zhu Yu’s cheek, and her eyes lit up. Could there still be room for negotiation?

Then the woman continued in a low voice, “Later, during the famine, we feasted on it.”

Her tone remained calm, as if reminiscing, yet it carried a hint of relish.

A wave of nausea washed over Zhu Yu. What a psychopath!

Boss Paradis smiled. “For the sake of your little dog, if the Empire offers sufficient leverage, I might consider sparing your life.”

Zhu Yu swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

The woman clasped her hands together, her smile radiant. “The list has already been delivered. Now, it’s up to the Empire to demonstrate its sincerity.”

“Otherwise, you’ll take Phoenix’s place.”

“The newly developed Fractus reagent hasn’t found a suitable test subject yet. It can catalyze the Heat Period and disrupt mental power.”

“Though you’re just a D-Rank Alpha, incapable of transformation, wouldn’t it be quite entertaining to broadcast the Imperial Star’s Heat Period spectacle?” The woman chuckled.

An assistant stepped forward, fingers flying across the Light Brain. Streams of data cascaded across the screen, culminating in a massive, crimson countdown timer that loomed before Zhu Yu’s eyes.

The Empire had ten minutes to respond.

Zhu Yu tilted her head back, cold sweat trickling down her neck. Through the dense text, she glimpsed a few lines: access to the Imperial Database, five hundred million virtual Hott coins…

This wasn’t just a Lion’s Roar; it was a Black Hole’s Maw! Even if they tore her apart and sold her piece by piece, she wouldn’t fetch half this price, let alone when the security of the Imperial Database was at stake.

The woman smiled as she leaned closer. “The Princess adores you so much. Surely this sum is trivial for her?”

Zhu Yu lowered her gaze, deliberately avoiding the camera.

“Aren’t they already filing for divorce?” someone whispered.

“Tsk, you just don’t understand! To the Royal Family Dragons, love is meaningless. The commoners who support this woman are the real problem! If it weren’t for political expediency, do you really think the Princess would have given her a second glance? A D-Rank Alpha… ha!”

“I heard she’s been having affairs since the marriage. How could the Princess tolerate that unless she was completely bewitched?”

“The Princess is frail and sickly. A pretty boy like this is probably the perfect match for her—”

Whistles and jeers rained down as the Star Pirates seemed confident the Empire would pay the ransom. After all, Zhu Yu was still the Princess’s nominal wife, the great heroine celebrated by the military.

Boss Paradis’s sharp nails dug into the corner of Zhu Yu’s lips as she meticulously examined her teeth and mouth, her expression as indifferent as if she were inspecting a slave or a commodity.

The electronic screen flickered, displaying a crimson countdown: 00:10.

The laughter died down, voices lowered, and everyone waited with bated breath for the outcome.

Though each second felt agonizing, bl00d and time flowed swiftly. Zhu Yu was forced to tilt her head back, experiencing a jarring disconnect between pain and numbness as her consciousness gradually blurred.

This demand is utterly unreasonable. The Empire would never agree to it.

Moreover, Bai Shuzhou lacks real authority. This isn’t a decision she can make alone.

On the contrary, Bai Shuzhou would never abandon me! Your Highness the Princess, benevolent and compassionate, would never abandon anyone.

Has she… made it home safely?

Beep—

The countdown reached zero.

An ear-piercing alert cut through the air as everyone looked up at the pop-up reply:

Refused.

Attached was a wanted poster.

The woman on the poster radiated confidence, smiling boldly at the camera. Below her image, the poster detailed her heroic exploits in suppressing bandits.

The Star Pirates crowded around the large screen, staring in disbelief. The Empire had not only refused to negotiate but dared to provoke them?!

They’ve gone too far! How could they not even offer a counteroffer?

Boss Paradis frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the outcome. “Resend it. This isn’t the Imperial Royal Family’s style. Even if Bai Shuzhou has truly abandoned her, they should still consider public opinion.”

“And forward it to the media. Let them know Zhu Yu is in our custody.”

The assistant tapped at the floating keyboard, her expression darkening. She quickly turned the glaring red alert message toward Boss Paradis. “Failed to send. Our IP and network have been blocked…”

No room for negotiation remained.

Even the Star Pirate who had been mocking the loudest couldn’t help but glance at Zhu Yu, their gaze a complex mix of scorn and pity.

She really has been abandoned.

“I understand now,” Boss Paradis said with a shrug, as if suddenly enlightened. “The Empire will never acknowledge your identity. You’re the hope of the commoners, but also their shame.”

“How ruthless. Let’s hope you fetch a good price tonight.”

Boss Paradis carried a floral scent, and the moment their hair brushed, Zhu Yu thought of Bai Shuzhou again.

That night, the woman had closed her eyes peacefully, lying right in front of her. Her breath fell in even, gentle waves, her delicate lashes fluttered softly as she slowly opened her eyes. Those pale blue eyes were pristine, untainted, and her icy tail flicked with a measured, deliberate motion.

Clang.

The silver suitcase hit the ground with a click, the thick needle still radiating a chilling aura.

The men pinned Zhu Yu down, and even though she couldn’t resist, they tightened the restraints around her.

The frigid reagent pierced her flesh, and the woman, lying supine, let out a muffled groan of agony from her clenched throat.

Her muscles twisted with a searing, throbbing pain, the back of her neck burned faintly. The cold from bl00d loss warred with the sudden spike in her body temperature, and her slender frame gradually curled inward.

It hurts so much…

In this moment, Zhu Yu couldn’t help but recall their first kiss.

It had been a mix of tears and the metallic tang of bl00d. The woman’s icy fingers had threaded through her hair, gripping tightly.

But why, when she remembered it now, was there only softness, and the rose scent lingering in her hair?

Can you kiss me again?