Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 33

Zhu Yu went to the cafeteria and asked for two spoons and a set of new utensils.

From the subtle silence, she sensed the possibility of taking advantage of the situation. If Shu Zhou acquiesced, she could invite him to eat with her. During mealtime, they could discuss various topics, and perhaps she could even…

The cafeteria chef, with a genuine smile, readily provided the utensils and cautiously asked Zhu Yu for an autograph.

The chef pulled out a blank notebook from under the counter, showering Zhu Yu with compliments, saying she was even more beautiful in person than on StarNet. “You and the Princess are a match made in heaven!”

Hey, why is this chef speaking such blunt truths? Zhu Yu tilted her chin slightly, subtly emitting pink bubbles of delight.

As she held the utensils and prepared to sign the autograph, Melno suddenly appeared from nowhere and snatched the pen.

The woman’s sharp gaze swept coldly over Zhu Yu. “Princess Zhu Yu, as a member of the Imperial Family, you are not permitted to give autographs indiscriminately, especially on blank paper.”

Though Melno used honorifics, the oppressive aura was overwhelming. Her scolding tone made Zhu Yu instinctively straighten her back.

Melno glanced at the chef. “You’re fired.”

Two servants emerged silently from the shadows, clamped a hand over the chef’s mouth, and dragged her away without regard for her terrified struggles.

Everything happened with eerie quiet. The air returned to its deathly stillness, as if nothing had occurred.

Zhu Yu’s pupils constricted slightly. Surely this is an exaggeration?! Her eyes widened, and she was about to plead for mercy when Melno’s lips curled into a cold smile.

“She violated the employee handbook. These confidentiality clauses are clearly stated. To hold a position is to fulfill its duties—the most fundamental principle of human conduct.”

“If you had signed your name just now, Princess Zhu Yu, that signature could soon appear anywhere.”

“Do not forget your status. Your careless actions could have enormous consequences for you and the entire empire. Please be mindful of your words and actions.”

Her calm tone carried the weight of unspoken threats, each word like a sharp blade aimed precisely at its target.

A chill ran down Zhu Yu’s spine, cold sweat seeping silently from her pores.

One moment they had been laughing and chatting, the next Melno had vanished without a trace.

For the first time, Zhu Yu felt the full, chilling force of imperial power—its coldness, its ruthlessness, and its absolute authority. And this was merely the tip of the iceberg.

Melno watched her swallow nervously, her expression one of obedient submission.

“You won’t kill her, will you?” Zhu Yu’s voice was dry.

Melno paused for half a second, a cryptic smile playing on her lips. “…Perhaps not.”

With that, she bowed and turned to leave.

“Please don’t make it too severe! I was the one who initiated the conversation. I’ll be more careful in the future—!”

Melno’s words carried a hidden meaning, an unsettling ambiguity that left Zhu Yu uneasy.

After a moment of stunned silence, Zhu Yu noticed the holographic screen suspended above the center of the hall was scrolling through footage of an energy anomaly detected somewhere. Gripping her dinner plate tightly, she resolved to find Shu Zhou first.

Eating was important, but eating with her wife was paramount.

But when she returned to her room, Shu Zhou had already left.

Even the Snow Leopard Knights guarding her door had been replaced by two unfamiliar, stern-faced individuals. No matter how she probed, they refused to divulge any information, merely repeating the phrase “routine recovery treatment” when pressed.

Zhu Yu carried her tray back to her room, then carried it out again, the news broadcast droning in the background, its noise grating on her nerves.

It wasn’t until the luxurious private car delivered her back to her palace that Zhu Yu realized—

She had accidentally taken the cafeteria’s stainless steel tray back with her.

The cold, incongruous tray lay in the gilded room, a silent reminder that none of this was a dream.

Zhu Yu scratched her head in frustration. If only I hadn’t gone back for that spoon! she thought. I wonder what will happen to the chef? At the very least, he’ll lose his job, right?

Melno had seemed utterly serious.

The travel ban against her had just been lifted that morning, and Zhu Yu had rejoiced at finally regaining her freedom. But now, looking back, she realized how truly dangerous this world was.

She needed to be careful, more careful than ever.

Zhu Yu collapsed onto the bed. The maids had cleaned diligently, leaving only a faint trace of Shu Zhou’s scent lingering in the air, like a fleeting breeze.

After the sweetness of their encounter, only unease and loneliness remained.

Ding-dong—

The Light Brain lit up, a red-flagged urgent notification flashing at the top of the screen.

Zhu Yu instinctively tapped it open, her eyes immediately catching her and Shu Zhou’s names amidst the dense text.

It was a marriage agreement!

She instantly straightened from her sprawled position into a formal seated posture. Though no one else was watching, Zhu Yu found herself sitting upright on the bed, holding her breath.

The document appeared to be encrypted with advanced technology. The text revealed itself line by line only as her pupils scanned it, giving it an air of high-tech sophistication.

The opening section contained a lengthy declaration: during the term of the marriage agreement, Zhu Yu would neither enjoy the political decision-making power of the Royal Family nor be obligated to fulfill its corresponding duties. The boundaries were defined with exceptional clarity.

The agreement spanned over sixty pages. Zhu Yu’s heart sank. She coveted power.

This wasn’t a marriage contract at all; it was more like a modern-day indenture…

Zhu Yu quickly scanned the document, her eyes drawn to the bolded section detailing her compensation: a monthly allowance of one million Star Coins, plus additional compensation for “special services,” followed by a string of zeros filling the gaps.

She momentarily forgot to breathe, counting the digits with her finger: ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands, millions… One million per month!

This overwhelming wealth nearly made her see stars.

If she remembered correctly, only a handful of nobles possessed “mining rights” to Energy Planets. Yet this contract granted her full “sovereignty.”

This meant that if she wished, she could even declare herself ruler of these Third-Tier Planets.

Sovereignty! She wasn’t just an Imperial Princess consort or a noble; she was a local empress!

“Am I dreaming…?” Zhu Yu pinched her wrist hard.

Sensing her doubt, the Light Brain subtly displayed Shu Zhou’s personal electronic seal in the background of the agreement: the royal crest of the Silver Dragon Emperor, a silver dragon spreading its wings as if about to take flight.

Zhu Yu suddenly realized that these territories were originally meant to be Shu Zhou’s fiefdom.

Although Shu Zhou had never left the Imperial Star, both the First Emperor and Qian Ze had been exceedingly generous to her.

Compared to the immense allure of planetary sovereignty, the million-credit allowance seemed trivial. As for the special services…

Zhu Yu read with rapt attention, scrutinizing each word and sentence.

The agreement euphemistically referred to her Healing-type Ability as “companion services.” It stipulated that if Shu Zhou’s physical condition improved, rewards would be granted based on the degree of improvement.

The black text on the paper was remarkably detailed, even including provisions for comforting him during his Heat Period.

Some passages felt so scandalous they burned her hands. Could such things really be written down?!

Clutching the blanket tightly, Zhu Yu’s ears burned. The cold, black text seemed to glow with a different color under her guilty gaze.

She had to take deep breaths, stifle silent screams, glance around the room, and pretend to admire the scenery outside the window. After a long internal struggle, she managed to force herself to read a few more lines.

She froze again, stifling another silent scream.

She had never dreamed that such intimate acts could be explicitly priced and written into a contract.

This wasn’t a normal marriage agreement; it was more like a complete, lavishly compensated arrangement—a form of “sugar daddy” relationship.

What a massive bowl of soft rice.

She and Shu Zhou would kiss, and he would even give her extra money? How could such a thing exist in this world?!

Zhu Yu wouldn’t even dare to dream of such a scenario.

But why was he being so good to her? Hadn’t Shu Zhou lost his memories?

Zhu Yu scrolled back up, racking her brains, and finally noticed some subtle issues hidden within the elaborate wording.

Ever since she had kidnapped Shu Zhou and become a wanted criminal, her military rank and political privileges had been revoked and never restored. Now, she held only the empty title of “Your Highness,” effectively stripping her of any real military power.

From a dashing, free-spirited military officer to the Imperial Princess’s kept consort.

Zhu Yu had no ambition and disliked violence and war, so she accepted this situation readily.

Being able to stay safely by Shu Zhou’s side forever was clearly a reward!

As for how to make Shu Zhou fall in love with her, instead of always treating their relationship as a cold transaction… she would figure that out later.

In high spirits, Zhu Yu hugged her quilt and rolled around lazily before stretching out to the bottom of the document, ready to sign.

Did she even need to confirm? There was absolutely no reason for her to refuse.

Just as she raised her finger, she suddenly noticed a line of tiny, easily overlooked text at the very bottom.

“During the term of this marriage contract, should Zhu Yu inflict any harm upon Shu Zhou or engage in any infidelity (whether physical or emotional),”

“Immediate execution.”

Immediate execution?!

Seeing those three words in the Interstellar Era left Zhu Yu momentarily stunned. She flipped through the document again, incredulous, to confirm she was indeed reading a legal document.

Just then, her finger accidentally brushed the signature area, and a 30-second countdown timer appeared at the top of the screen.

Failure to sign within the allotted time will be considered automatic forfeiture.

Considering the original owner’s criminal record, such a clause seemed perfectly reasonable.

Zhu Yu gritted her teeth. Spurred by this sudden threat, she made an instant decision, signing and sealing the document immediately, fearing Shu Zhou might change his mind.

After all, she wasn’t the original owner—that scum. Not committing domestic violence or infidelity was simply the bare minimum requirement for being a decent human being!

Zhu Yu trusted herself.

If she ever devolved into the kind of beast who would violate such principles, she wouldn’t even need Shu Zhou to intervene. She’d just count down from three and jump off a cliff herself.

Her signature glowed gold on the screen, shimmering brightly before slowly curling up and vanishing, replaced by a crimson seal.

Almost simultaneously, a notification popped up: Bank balance updated. 1,000,000 Star Coins credited.

Memo: Pocket money, voluntarily gifted.

“……”

Zhu Yu, utterly lacking in self-restraint, counted the digits again, one by one.

She didn’t yet grasp how extraordinary and precious her Ability was, but instinctively felt that such a generous sum of money—even a share of territory—could only mean true love!

Her fingertip accidentally brushed against a hidden compartment, causing a protocol to pop up, revealing the sender’s information. The nickname was “Sugar Cube.”

The chat history had been meticulously deleted. Zhu Yu paused, belatedly realizing this must be Shu Zhou’s personal account.

So they did have contact information after all, she thought, but the original Zhu Yu had hidden it.

She’d assumed she’d been deleted, blocked, or simply forgotten.

Before Zhu Yu could even begin to secretly rejoice, her lips barely curving into a smile, she watched in horror as the conversation box below began to multiply and refresh frantically, like a virus spreading unchecked.

The original Zhu Yu had hidden far more contacts than just Shu Zhou.

When the list finally finished loading, Zhu Yu shakily tapped on one of the contacts’ details. Her vision swam.

In the contact’s notes section, a dense, sprawling text record stretched longer than a lifetime.

Beyond the name and birthday, the notes included job title, hometown, verbal tic, preference for blue dresses, weekly golf sessions on Wednesdays and Saturdays at Cloudtop, aversion to insects, and a preference for mild-flavored food…

Zhu Yu scrolled down in horror, even more terrified to realize that the original owner had made such meticulously detailed notes on almost everyone. It was practically a comprehensive personal dossier, and when compiled, it would likely be longer than the marriage agreement she had just signed.

What is this? A scumbag A’s self-cultivation manual?

The only entry at the top, “Sugar Cube,” had an empty notes field—not a single word.

How could she be so indifferent to her own wife?!

Zhu Yu clenched her fists, a surge of indescribable bitterness and anger rising in her chest. She refused to dwell on how much neglect and mistreatment Shu Zhou had endured in this relationship.

Yet the name “Sugar Cube” sounded so endearing, and it inexplicably suited Shu Zhou.

Clean, sharply defined, but sweet at its core—a small piece that could be savored in the mouth for a long time.

Beyond the superficial, almost public information, Zhu Yu realized she knew little about her. The detailed notes were actually more informative.

She remained ignorant of her true habits, interests, daily routines… and, worst of all, her birthday.

Even worse, the hidden contacts were flooded with countless unread messages.

No wonder Zhu Yu had been puzzled when she first unlocked the Light Brain, wondering why none of her “friends” had sent condolences. The original owner had managed her relationships so poorly.

It would have been better if they had stayed bad!

So many hidden contacts—how guilty must she have been?!

Red notification dots surged relentlessly, instantly overwhelming the bewildered Zhu Yu with 99+ messages.

The Light Brain’s message alerts were even 3D holographic, each one slamming against her already battered heart.

Zhu Yu stared intently at the enthusiastic chat windows before her, vaguely sensing that fate’s gift came with three ominous words attached:

Death Sentence.