Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 43

White Bird remained completely oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between the two women.

As an Alpha with a defective gland, her ability to sense pheromones was dulled. When Zhu Yu’s Ability suddenly surged, the palm of their clasped hands felt like it had been struck by lightning. White Bird flinched, sneezed, and a tiny flame flickered into existence.

Her body trembled involuntarily, but Zhu Yu’s energy felt warm, like the sun, melting her icy body… Even in fear, White Bird gripped Zhu Yu’s hand tightly.

Tendrils of coldness radiated from White Bird’s frail body. The electric shock had triggered vivid memories, and she opened her mouth, making silent, gasping sounds.

Zhu Yu, feeling White Bird’s grip, finally snapped out of her daze. She clasped both hands around White Bird’s and shook them gently, hoping to reassure her.

But White Bird’s face remained deathly pale. She tugged Zhu Yu toward Bai Shuzhou, as if to kneel before him, raising her other hand as if to beg for something.

Help me… It… hurts…

Compared to the agony of the laboratory in her memories, everything she had endured with the Star Pirates paled into insignificance.

Her strength was immense. Zhu Yu had barely finished healing her when she was yanked to the ground, feeling the girl’s grip on her arm spasm and convulse.

Zhu Yu didn’t understand why she was doing this, but her heart clenched inexplicably. She immediately looked up anxiously at Bai Shuzhou.

The woman on the sickbed was enveloped in a sea of white. The faint flush on her nose hadn’t yet faded, accentuating the porcelain pallor of her face, which seemed as clear and translucent as glass.

She sat upright, watching White Bird’s movements with a slight start. She gently bit her lip, like a deity gazing down from the clouds upon the chaotic mortal realm, her pale blue eyes filled with compassion.

But she was powerless to help.

As her eyelids lowered, obscuring her gaze, Zhu Yu felt the pain surrounding her intensify, dripping like ink into the pristine white, dissolving, smearing, and finally being buried beneath the silent snowfall.

Zhu Yu knelt, cradling White Bird in her arms. After a moment’s hesitation—this was the first time she had healed someone other than Bai Shuzhou—she gripped the girl’s trembling back tightly, her palms growing warm. She slowly patted the girl’s shaking spine.

White Bird was so thin that Zhu Yu could easily feel the bones beneath her skin, fragile as if they might snap at the slightest touch. Curled into a ball, she nestled against Zhu Yu’s chest.

White Bird’s physical condition was far better than Bai Shuzhou’s. The warm, healing-type energy quickly restored her to calm. Her vacant gaze fixed on Zhu Yu, then slowly shifted to Bai Shuzhou, lingering on him with confusion and bewilderment.

The mental trauma seemed more severe. White Bird clung to Zhu Yu’s shirt, refusing to let go until the medical director arrived to transfer her to the intensive care unit. Helpless, Zhu Yu had to remove her shirt and give it to White Bird to hold, allowing her to take it inside.

Through the thick glass door, Zhu Yu watched as the emptiness in White Bird’s eyes gradually faded. A heavy, suffocating feeling pressed down on her chest, as if her entire ribcage were stuffed with damp cotton.

Leaving White Bird alone felt cruel.

Zhu Yu understood White Bird’s feelings, but she needed treatment, and Zhu Yu couldn’t go in with her.

What exactly had those people done to her and the others during the experiments?

Rage, despair, and… hatred surged through Zhu Yu’s chest.

These emotions were overwhelming and unfamiliar. Zhu Yu rarely experienced such negativity, and she didn’t even know who to hate.

Amidst the sudden surge of deathly intent, Zhu Yu gritted her teeth, recalling Bai Shuzhou’s compassionate gaze.

Her heart pounded violently against her chest.

Zhu Yu pressed hard against her chest, leaning against the cold tiles of the long corridor, bending over to improve her breathing.

Her straight back gradually slid down the wall, as if she were falling from a great height. Again, she saw that slender, porcelain-white hand.

On the pale blue veins, the small mole burned crimson, like the bullseye of an archery target. The surging hatred finally found its target, condensing into the sharpest arrow. The bowstring stretched taut, aiming straight at those empty, abyss-like eyes.

She continued to fall endlessly, the wind howling around her. In the darkness, a voice seemed to whisper in her ear:

Don’t hope. Don’t believe. Don’t… love her…

Hate… Bai Shuzhou…

?!

The thought suddenly pierced through the fog, stabbing into her chest. Zhu Yu jolted awake from the nightmare, feeling as if she had plunged into icy water. The back of her shirt was already soaked with cold sweat.

Pah. Zhu Yu pinched her wrist, took a deep breath, and immediately retorted fiercely.

As a staunch materialist, she had no reason to fear such things—mere nightmares.

“I don’t care what you are! Get off me right now!”

“We are destined to be together, fated by the heavens! What right does a monster like you have to oppose us?”

Clenching her fists and shouting furiously, Zhu Yu felt a surge of relief wash over her.

Her voice was firm and powerful, her vocal cords vibrating, her chest resonating with each breath. She could feel the pulse throbbing in her tightly gripped wrist—these minute sensations felt utterly real.

She was safe. This was just a dream. Her feet were firmly planted on solid ground.

Zhu Yu exhaled deeply.

A hesitant voice broke through her thoughts. “Princess Zhu Yu, are you alright? Should we call for a medical checkup?”

Zhu Yu lifted her head and saw the distinctive yellow hair of a researcher she hadn’t met before. They were all wearing white lab coats, each with the Federation emblem pinned to their collars.

Oh, the Federation emblem.

Zhu Yu’s newly calmed mind buzzed again.

The team?

I’ve embarrassed myself in front of our Federation allies! Aaaaaah!

At this distance, Zhu Yu couldn’t tell how much they had seen, but she was certain they had heard the two sentences she had just shouted.

Everyone gazed at her politely, letting out silent sighs of pity—in this moment, silence spoke louder than words.

Here she was, the esteemed Commoner’s Star of the Imperial, the Princess’s only acknowledged Alpha partner, shouting and raving in the corridors of the Royal Academy of Sciences, seemingly possessed by a ghost… Ha!

The young woman leaned against the wall, accentuating her sharp waistline. She casually tossed her black hair with one hand, the pure white light of the corridor seeming to reflect in her pitch-black eyes, revealing a blend of melancholy and resilience. She offered a faint smile to the group, her voice slightly hoarse:

“My bl00d sugar dropped. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you all for your hard work. Welcome to the Imperial for this exchange visit.”

The Federation woman at the front couldn’t help but brighten at the sight of Zhu Yu, scrutinizing her from head to toe. Through her glasses, streams of dense data flashed across the lenses.

“Very well. Please take care of yourself,” Yu Yan said, pretending not to notice Zhu Yu’s dramatic transformation. She bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then subtly blocked the Federation Citizens who were about to approach Zhu Yu, steering them in another direction.

Princess Zhu Yu shouldn’t have too much contact with the Federation Citizens—this was a specific instruction the Princess had given before losing her memory.

In these tense times, relations between the two nations remained strained. The fact that a scientific exchange delegation could even take place was a result of concerted efforts from Interstellar public opinion and various parties.

“Is that Zhu Yu, the only D-Rank Super-Tier Mecha Pilot?”

“Her physiological data is off. Even accounting for sensor variations, her readings are higher than the officially published figures. It’s rare for a mixed-bl00d to reach this level.”

D-Rank Mental Power is the minimum requirement for piloting a Mecha, and Zhu Yu barely met this threshold, squeezing her way into the Super-Tier approval standards.

The Federation’s technology far surpasses the Imperial’s. The scientists spoke with an air of superiority, their voices cold and condescending, making no attempt to conceal their disdain.

Discussing such matters on the Imperial’s own territory was hardly appropriate.

The red-haired Federation Citizen beside them coughed discreetly, sidled up to Yu Yan, and casually patted her shoulder, changing the subject. “Does she often behave like this?”

“It doesn’t look like hypoglycemia. More like post-traumatic stress disorder. A warrior’s mental health is just as important, you know. Can she really pilot a Mecha in this state? Should we administer a youth psychological questionnaire?”

Their tone was flippant, less arrogant, yet each remark grew more outrageous than the last. Yu Yan frowned slightly, her expression impassive, and threatened, “If you’re truly interested in the Imperial Family’s affairs, you may inquire with the Snow Leopard Knight.”

After being captured, Zhu Yu slowly asked her questions.

The woman chuckled, spreading her hands. “I’ve noticed you Imperials are so easily provoked. Lighten up!”

Zhu Yu watched the group’s retreating figures, her carefully maintained composure instantly crumbling. She wilted from a proud, upright blade of grass into a drooping, withered stalk.

How could someone look so much like Nangong? This is bad luck. I bet I’ve been followed by some evil spirit. I really need to visit a temple when I have time… Wait, what kind of temple do you visit in the Interstellar Era to ward off evil?

She also wanted to pray for romance and good health, wishing for their long-lasting peace and safety. The God of Wealth wasn’t necessary; they already had a Dragon God at home who dropped treasures. They weren’t short on money.

Ah, not being short on money… Just saying that makes me feel more powerful.

Money was precious. “I’ll give you money” was like a more materialistic version of “I love you.” Zhu Yu was trying hard to accept Bai Shuzhou’s way of expressing his affection.

A million credits a month—enough to bury her alive in cotton if she spent it all on that.

What profound love! Of course it’s love.

Lost in her thoughts, Zhu Yu deliberately washed her face and retied her hair in front of the mirror, ensuring she looked perfectly normal before pushing open Bai Shuzhou’s door.

She had undoubtedly concealed her distress well, but the moment Bai Shuzhou glanced at her, the corners of her lips turned downward slightly. If her dragon tail were still present, its pointed tip would have curled up in sorrow.

Zhu Yu spoke first, “She’s fine. They’ve given her a sedative. The supervisor said she needs to be monitored with instruments, and they’ll notify us immediately if there are any changes.”

“Zhu Yu.”

“Hmm?” The young woman blinked at her.

“What about you?”

“I’m fine! I even ran into some Federation scientists outside just now. They were—”

“Lying.”

The woman’s icy fingertips brushed aside a stray strand of hair from Zhu Yu’s forehead, letting the crystalline water droplets clinging to the tips roll down. Her jade-like knuckles gently tapped the corner of Zhu Yu’s eye as her voice barely grazed the air:

“Perhaps you’re lying to me.”

Bai Shuzhou pressed her forehead against Zhu Yu’s, her breathing shallow. Those deep blue eyes poured into the pitch-black abyss, drop by drop, as her fingertips massaged Zhu Yu’s temples.

Inhaling the faint scent of roses, the anxiety and unease that had been gnawing at her soul suddenly vanished.

“Healing-type Ability Users have a strong empathic connection. When you establish a Mental Power link with someone, you can be influenced by their emotions…”

“I’m sorry, was that too much for you?”

Her gaze lowered, long lashes brushing against Zhu Yu’s cheek. Zhu Yu’s breath caught as Bai Shuzhou actually apologized, her cool voice dropping to a low murmur:

“As compensation, what do you want?”

The girl, whose face was cradled in Bai Shuzhou’s hands, stared back, blinking slowly.

Money, jewels, property, power…

Bai Shuzhou could promise almost anything, enough to satisfy any worldly desire.

Yet this girl seemed unmoved. She simply took Bai Shuzhou’s fingertips, pressed her lips together slightly, and gave them a tentative, alluring squeeze.

Clever girl, Bai Shuzhou thought. She chose the most valuable thing.

The tranquil emptiness rippled as sunlight pierced through the dark clouds. Birds plunged into the sea, while small fish soared into the sky. Only the rhythm of their heartbeats, synchronized with the gentle caress of fingertips, trembled closer, closer.

Suddenly, the woman leaned in and kissed the corner of Zhu Yu’s lips. Her icy fingertips traced the curve of Zhu Yu’s eye, then slipped into her hair, stroking lightly.

The lover’s breath, warm against her lips, felt like a feather slowly brushing against Zhu Yu’s heart, burrowing into its softest spot. The sensation was so overwhelming that Zhu Yu wanted to hide under the covers and scream, yet she was held captive by the gentle, resisting embrace that cradled her face.

Silver hair cascaded downward as Zhu Yu was forced to meet those pale blue eyes.

“You want… me?”