Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 25

Bai Shuzhou had always disliked overly intimate physical contact.

Until today, everyone had believed this to be true.

Even with her own sister, Bai Qianze, they rarely embraced. During her early marriage to Zhu Yu, they would simply walk side-by-side through the palace, Zhu Yu occasionally giggling behind her fan to prolong the flirtatious atmosphere.

It was rare for married partners to refuse to mark each other. Most assumed Bai Shuzhou was asexual, uninterested in such matters. After all, she naturally exuded an aloof, otherworldly aura, as if she were above worldly desires.

So when they saw the blatantly obvious marks on Zhu Yu, everyone froze in place, too stunned to immediately separate the pair.

The intimate marks on Zhu Yu weren’t numerous, but they were deep—deep enough to imagine Bai Shuzhou’s fervent bites, her pheromones saturating every inch of skin.

And Zhu Yu herself remained completely oblivious.

It was like spraying too much perfume; Zhu Yu had grown so accustomed to the overwhelming fragrance that she no longer noticed anything amiss.

Normally, a mating during the Heat Period would last for several days. In the windowless confinement chamber, time seemed to flow even slower than water.

Zhu Yu thought it had been just one night, but in reality, it had been three days and two nights. Feng Jiyan’s pheromones proved to be the perfect tonic. Embraced in each other’s arms, they drifted back to sleep, their scents mingling and subtly altering each other’s essence.

It was precisely this warm, woody aroma that made the rose bloom even more vividly, its sharp thorns swaying with primal allure. This subtle transformation, however, remained unnoticed for now.

Foxes weren’t naturally skilled fighters. Even though Feng Jiyan maintained his fitness regimen, his struggles against Zhu Yu were no more effective than the resistance of a long-rusted screw.

The onlookers watched helplessly as Zhu Yu thoroughly dismantled Feng Jiyan’s arrogance.

Without Yuan Mi’s intervention, Zhu Yu felt a bit awkward. The usual scenario would have been everyone crowding around, shouting, “Stop fighting! Stop it! Let it go!” Then she would have sneered coldly, “There won’t be a next time!”

But the fox quickly gave up struggling, making Zhu Yu seem overly aggressive, as if she were robbing her. Yet this theatrical “robbery” was actually a way out.

Ha, ha! Look at you, Zhu Yu, you actually beat up Feng Jiyan!

I’m doomed!!

After a few seconds of silence, she threw back the blanket and, in as calm and non-cowardly a tone as she could muster, extended her hand to Feng Jiyan:

“You shouldn’t steal from others. It’s a matter of principle.”

The young woman, holding all the cards, leaned down and gently but firmly pulled the fox to her feet, delivering her verdict in an eerily calm voice.

She even thoughtfully straightened Feng Jiyan’s crooked collar.

Half-undressed and radiating an intimate aura, Zhu Yu smoothed Feng Jiyan’s luxurious clothes with deliberate precision, pulling out the sharp creases. Finally, her slender fingers paused, pushing the bow tie up to completely seal Feng Jiyan’s mouth, preventing her from spitting out the venomous words she hadn’t yet uttered.

Zhu Yu’s composure, rationality, and the unwavering, passionate image she had projected during the live broadcast earlier that day stood in stark contrast to her current demeanor.

With effortless grace, she smiled at the crowd, her lips curving slightly.

“Oh my god,” a young attendant murmured, pressing a hand to her racing heart. Suddenly, she wondered if bloodline really mattered as much as everyone claimed. Zhu Yu might be rough around the edges, but after years of refined noble etiquette and meticulously plated meals, the sudden encounter with such raw, youthful vigor left the Princess clearly smitten. It wasn’t hard to understand why.

What is she after? Your Highness the Princess’s heart?

Oh! This is getting even more interesting. I thought duels were just ancient legends.

After all, how could they possibly comply with modern law?

Yet Zhu Yu showed remarkable restraint, never abusing her power or provoking public resentment.

Fortunately, the thick blanket had cushioned Feng Jiyan’s fall, preventing serious injury. However, the public humiliation felt like a profound insult to her. She brushed aside Zhu Yu and the curious attendants, refusing to linger a moment longer.

Only after Feng Jiyan had left did Zhu Yu learn that she had been ordered to investigate the circumstances surrounding the Princess’s abduction.

Feng Jiyan investigated, Izalia executed, and they kept each other in check.

Zhu Yu was drenched in cold sweat, unable to understand why these politicians always spoke in circles, dragging things out with so many veiled hints that she barely grasped a word. All she got was a scolding. If Feng Jiyan had questioned how the Princess injured her leg, or used a lie detector, Zhu Yu would probably be buried under three meters of weeds by now.

Life in the Imperial Palace might be more dangerous than the remote Chaos Zone.

Moreover, Bai Shuzhou wasn’t by her side.

The imagined days of living together never materialized. Only when she touched her reflection in the mirror while bathing did she feel a fleeting sense of reality.

For the first time, Zhu Yu resented her robust constitution. Even the hickeys and bite marks Bai Shuzhou had left faded too quickly.

After the soul-searing pleasure, the sudden separation left her restless.

The full-length mirror, adorned with vibrant fresh flowers, became particularly striking when the steam filled the room. Her figure appeared exceptionally beautiful—slender, handsome, and exquisitely detailed—framed by the heat and moisture.

Once a good idea took root, it grew uncontrollably. Zhu Yu couldn’t help but wonder: If Bai Shuzhou were here, if she could hold her hand…

Ah, I can’t think about that anymore!

Zhu Yu sank deeper into the water, her ears burning.

She had been waiting for Bai Shuzhou to return, just like in the remote star system where Bai Shuzhou would wait for her after work. They would eat together, sharing stories of the day’s events, the setting sun painting the steaming food in golden hues.

But neither of them came back.

The palace was vast; even the bathroom was larger than their entire rented courtyard. At night, Zhu Yu slept alone, unable to hear Bai Shuzhou’s soft breathing.

Where did she go? Why did she leave the gemstone and vanish?

No one could answer Zhu Yu’s questions. The Head Maid seemed to dislike her, offering only vague, evasive replies. It took Zhu Yu a long time to realize she was essentially confined to this palace chamber.

And this chamber wasn’t their home; it was merely a small side hall. They didn’t even sleep in the same room.

According to the rules, she had to leave after the divorce. Yuan Mi’s belongings were extensive; besides several large wardrobes filled with luxurious clothing, the most abundant items were perfumes, none of which Zhu Yu could use.

Moreover, Yuan Mi had an obsessive fondness for locks, securing many items with passwords. It was unclear whom she was trying to keep out, but the habit was deeply irritating.

Only Feng Jiyan’s frequent probing allowed Zhu Yu to transition from feigning ignorance to feigning illness, eventually leading to the carefully leaked news that she had lost her memory.

Meanwhile, chaos had erupted outside the palace.

The group of Northern District nobles who had publicly accused Zhu Yu of abducting Bai Shuzhou—led by the Grey Wolf Heir—had mysteriously died during Feng Jiyan’s interrogation and detention.

Izalia, having failed to capture the Federation’s “big fish” who had slipped away that day, harbored an even deeper hatred for the Federation and their Mecha. Upon returning, she frequently visited the research labs under the guise of conducting “combat experiments.”

Initially, her visits were purely for venting her anger. But she soon realized that the Empire’s Mecha research lagged far behind the Federation’s, with vast disparities in mobility and firepower. In the event of war, even the most valiant flesh-and-bl00d soldiers would be easily injured against steel.

To catch up with the Empire’s innate physical superiority in beast-form combat, the Federation had been secretly striving for decades, even centuries. Yet the arrogant Imperial Nobles refused to acknowledge this effort.

Izalia admitted it, but she struggled to accept it, resisting the idea of personally testing the mecha. Instead, she resorted to forcibly overwhelming entire mecha squads in simulated combat, proving to herself that her skills hadn’t deteriorated.

Unbeknownst to her, the red mecha she had faced that day was the Federation’s ace of aces. Upon returning to base, technicians discovered it was damaged beyond 75%, just shy of being scrapped on the spot. Even they were secretly awed by the terrifying offensive power of the Empire’s beast-form combatants.

Izalia’s violent, high-pressure tactics left many of her subordinates both in awe and resentment. Every day began with a beating. Some whispered that if Zhu Yu were to pilot a mecha, she might finally satisfy Izalia’s madness.

Zhu Yu was a distinguished graduate of the Imperial Royal Military Academy, one in ten thousand selected to become a Mecha Pilot. She even possessed a custom-built mecha still under development, which had greatly boosted public enthusiasm during the recent recruitment campaign.

How could the Empire abandon its carefully cultivated “Commoner’s Star” based on some unverified allegations? Especially when Zhu Yu’s fame was at its zenith.

Single-handedly, she had stood between the racial tensions of the two nations, acting as a Schrödinger’s Fish in the war of words.

The Empire accused the Federation of orchestrating Bai Shuzhou’s disappearance and Zhu Yu’s humiliation. The Federation immediately jumped to clarify that their relationship with Zhu Yu transcended national borders, emphasizing their friendly cooperation and urging everyone to unite against the Star Pirates.

Feeling guilty, the Federation proactively negotiated the return of a group of victims as a show of sincerity, including the Phoenix and Little Birds who had escaped that night and were rescued by Nangong’s forces.

If Bai Shuzhou had delivered the auction speech as planned, even the most flawless diplomatic rhetoric would have been scrutinized for loopholes or misinterpretations. But the Nangong family said nothing, simply releasing the Federation Declaration of Freedom, which struck a far more profound chord with the public.

At least some Federation citizens felt ashamed, organizing protests demanding a thorough investigation into the buyers and the liberation of all illegally trafficked beastfolk.

Although the demonstrations were organized by Federation animal rights groups, they sparked yet another round of mutual recriminations between the two nations.

In such times, few believed Zhu Yu would betray her country, and she certainly had no reason to do so.

No matter how you looked at it, Zhu Yu was someone Izalia had personally unearthed from the grassroots. Left with no choice, Izalia had to approach Feng Jiyan with a stern expression, subtly warning him that he’d gone far enough and needed to release Zhu Yu immediately—she needed her back urgently.

Feng Jiyan found himself in an awkward position. He’d been hoping Zhu Yu would step forward sooner to draw fire, and her confinement hadn’t been his idea in the first place.

Isolated from the world and claiming amnesia, Zhu Yu was impossible to manipulate. The sudden death of the so-called “evidence” in her case had left Feng Jiyan fully responsible, forcing him to continue investigating Bai Shuzhou’s abduction. The deeper he dug, the more suspicious the case became.

While chaos raged outside, Zhu Yu lived a monotonous life: meals delivered to her room, endless gaming sessions, and her daily task of counting gemstones. She meticulously polished each one, arranged them in patterns, and recorded them carefully.

One gemstone, she loves me. Two gemstones, she loves me very much. Three gemstones, she loves me more than anything… Finally, she pushed aside the stacked gemstone tower.

Sister, I don’t want these gemstones anymore. When are you coming back?

She couldn’t understand how Bai Shuzhou could vanish so completely. Just days ago, they had shared a passionate kiss under the night sky.

Hiding under the covers, Zhu Yu pondered for hours, repeatedly dredging up her damp memories to air them out. Even if their relationship had been purely contractual, she would have accepted it.

But why did Bai Shuzhou always vanish the moment she turned around, without even a backward glance?

She no longer dreamed of falling, and Bai Shuzhou never let go. Instead, Zhu Yu simply disappeared into the swirling snow, slowly walking forward, searching for direction.

It was Feng Jiyan, his voice dripping with malice, who told her that Bai Shuzhou’s condition had deteriorated. The underlying illness had been triggered by abnormal fluctuations in mental energy, and researchers strongly suspected it was due to her bond with Zhu Yu. They even presented data reports as evidence.

Their stern demeanor made it clear they wanted to slap the report across Zhu Yu’s face and denounce her: How dare this inferior Alpha even dream of the Dragon Princess!

Only then did Zhu Yu realize that the beloved she had been longing for had been hospitalized all these days.

The Head Maid, usually as silent as a mute, spoke for once, saying it wasn’t Zhu Yu’s fault.

Her calm tone reminded Zhu Yu of Bai Shuzhou, as if a pair of gentle hands were shielding her from the blizzard. It’s not your fault. Don’t respond.

The glittering world was full of traps. Walk slowly.

On a bright, sunny morning, Bai Shuzhou noticed the discomfort in her body. She calmly washed up, made arrangements in the brief time she had, and voluntarily went to the Royal Academy of Sciences for treatment.

Having been ill for so many years, Bai Shuzhou had long grown accustomed to it. The only difference this time was Zhu Yu, which made it somewhat unfamiliar.

I will arrange everything, including you.

Zhu Yu couldn’t leave the palace because it was the only place completely under Bai Shuzhou’s control.

She wants to keep me firmly in her grasp.

Once Zhu Yu left, speculation and scheming from all sides would inevitably follow.

The Head Maid said, “Your Highness doesn’t want you to know about this. She’ll be fine. It’s been this way for years. Please trust her and be patient.”

So many years… Zhu Yu’s nose stung with tears. She had been completely unaware of Bai Shuzhou’s suffering, leaving her to endure it alone.

“But I want to see her,” Zhu Yu pleaded. “I can be useful to her. Can you help me?”

The Head Maid fixed her with a steady gaze. “That’s precisely why Your Highness doesn’t want you to know. You mustn’t go to the Academy of Sciences. It’s not a place for you.”

“If something were to happen to you, she couldn’t protect you. It would only add to her worries.”

The Head Maid had watched Bai Shuzhou grow up and harbored a subtle hostility toward Zhu Yu, especially after Bai Shuzhou gently pinched Zhu Yu’s sleeping face before leaving, looking up to softly remind her not to wake her.

In that instant, even before Bai Shuzhou herself realized it, the Head Maid, with a mother’s keen intuition, sensed the possibility of her child being hurt. She would have preferred Zhu Yu to remain forever indifferent, never holding anything dear, so she could sever ties decisively if needed.

Love was too heavy.

It was like a bird’s wings soaked with rain.

“There were so many places I shouldn’t have gone,” Zhu Yu stubbornly insisted, “but I went anyway, and the results were always good. You have to try to know.”

From parallel worlds, through a chance intersection of timelines, fate had allowed them to intertwine tightly, pulling each other upward, never to fall again.

Zhu Yu didn’t want to let go, nor did she want Bai Shuzhou to be alone when she was sick, just as she herself longed for her partner’s presence when she felt afraid.

“Could you take me to see her? Please.”

The Head Maid’s eyes deepened. “Even if it means risking your life?”

“Yes!” Zhu Yu nodded firmly.

But it’s only a possibility, she thought. Why would I abandon my partner for something so uncertain?

Slowly, the Head Maid’s rigid, icy expression softened into a faint smile.

“Very well. It’s not as dire as it sounds. I’ll help you. I simply wish for Your Highness to be completely captivated by you.”

“Ah…” Zhu Yu felt an unexpected sense of approval from an elder. She bowed deeply to the Head Maid. “Thank you.”

“It’s too early for thanks,” the Head Maid said with a dismissive glance. “However, you two must exercise restraint.”

Caught off guard by this sudden turn to such a serious topic with an elder, Zhu Yu panicked, like a fish caught stealing cat food. Her words tumbled out in a jumble: “Ah… oh, yes, I’m sorry! I understand! I’ll definitely be more careful next time!”