Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 45

Bai Shuzhou placed the small flower in a glazed lamp, setting it on the bedside table alongside her usual reading material.

The flower was tiny and inconspicuous, its edges still tinged with the tender green of new growth.

Yet when cradled in Bai Shuzhou’s cool, slender hands, it seemed to radiate an invisible, ethereal glow. Even its delicate leaves trembled with a fragile nobility as it swayed gently within the crystal-clear vessel.

Zhu Yu’s heart bloomed with joy, as if it weren’t just the flower being cherished, but her entire being carefully protected in Bai Shuzhou’s cool, dry palm, receiving gentle reassurance.

Though Bai Shuzhou maintained a stern expression and warned her sternly that a Mental Power entity could never be easily severed or separated—a dangerous act—she urged Zhu Yu to try retracting it.

Regrettably, Zhu Yu’s inconsistent talent had once again failed her. She herself had no idea how she had managed to create the flower in the first place.

After all, the most crucial part of making a flower is forgetting its origins.

Whether it was because the flower resembled a human or because it had been cultivated using Bai Shuzhou’s pheromones, the little bloom clearly favored Bai Shuzhou.

Whenever Bai Shuzhou’s fingertip touched its petals, they would softly brush against him twice, even causing delicate ripples in the nutrient solution.

But whenever Zhu Yu tried to take it, the flower would visibly wilt, its edges turning yellow. This would trigger a throbbing headache in Zhu Yu, forcing her to reluctantly give up.

Zhu Yu feigned regret on the surface.

But the moment she stepped out of the ward, her lips curled into an uncontrollable grin, and countless tiny bubbles of joy burst in her heart.

This is perfect! she thought. A part of me can now stay by Bai Shuzhou’s side, day and night, legitimately!

The little plant-person lived in a priceless glazed lamp, bathed in the most expensive nutrient solution, and was frequently caressed by Bai Shuzhou’s cold jade-like fingers. Such a luxurious life! Zhu Yu almost wished she could trade places with it.

But as the greater plant-person, she had more important matters to attend to.

The smile on her face vanished as she turned and walked down the icy corridor. A hidden camera flashed a faint red light, illuminating the gradually sharpening profile of the young woman’s face.

Bai Shuzhou, White Bird, human experimentation.

When she first stepped into the pristine white domain of the Academy of Sciences, she had felt an instinctive fear. But now, having resolved to confront the dark secrets buried beneath this white facade, she felt a strange sense of calm.

What did difficulties matter? Bai Shuzhou was the destined female protagonist, destined for a brilliant future. Sooner or later, those cunning foxes and fierce tigers would willingly submit to her command, becoming her loyal lieutenants.

And Zhu Yu herself had become even more formidable.

She was Bai Shuzhou’s only acknowledged wife, the one whose divorce proceedings were about to be withdrawn!

Carrying herself with the regal bearing of the Royal Family, Zhu Yu gracefully knocked on Yu Yan’s door.

The Territorial Administration Institute had indeed granted her exceptionally high-level access, but the Academy of Sciences’ internal System was as complex as a colossal labyrinth. Vast amounts of data were obscured by cryptic numerical codes, making it utterly incomprehensible to outsiders.

Fortunately, there was Yu Yan.

This researcher was practically a living encyclopedia, able to precisely recall the meaning behind every obscure code. Her mind seemed to house a towering tree of knowledge, its branches reaching toward the heavens.

No matter how obscure Zhu Yu’s questions were, Yu Yan could swiftly provide clear and accurate answers, a feat so remarkable that Zhu Yu was left in awe.

With a generous wave of her hand, Zhu Yu transferred 200,000 credits from her personal allowance to Yu Yan as a service fee.

Her sister had once told her, “When you’re out, be generous. People will remember your kindness and be more willing to help you next time.”

Upon receiving the transfer, Yu Yan visibly choked up, clutching her Light Brain and speaking with a hint of bewilderment, “You’re giving me a service fee even though I haven’t produced any results yet?”

Feeling a pang of guilt, Zhu Yu patted Yu Yan’s shoulder with the tone of a heartless mentor, saying earnestly, “Little Yu, you know, the moment I saw you, I knew you were a child with immense potential. You’re truly exceptional, and I’ve always had great faith in you. Keep up the good work!”

“Take this money and buy some good food. You can’t live on nutrient solutions and pastes forever—they’re not nutritious enough.”

“Last time I was buying groceries, I passed a decent-looking restaurant. It was clean, the food was better than mine, and they offer 24-hour free delivery. If you want anything, you can scan the owner’s…”

In terms of data investigation, Zhu Yu couldn’t contribute much. All she could offer was her authorization. She shamelessly lingered nearby, acting as a lucky charm and providing a bit of insignificant emotional support.

Her rambling was filled with ordinary chatter, yet Yu Yan’s fingertips paused momentarily.

Casual conversation was rare at the Academy of Sciences. Everyone was focused on experimental data, the survival and advancement of humanity. Aside from the cafeteria staff, no one cared about trivial matters like what to eat today.

The Academy’s employee dormitories were quite comfortable. Though not as luxurious as the residences of the nobility, on the Imperial Star where every inch of land was precious, each employee had their own suite. After work, they could retreat to a quiet, private space where they could breathe freely—a rare privilege.

Still, here, one had to keep running just to stay in place.

Everyone wants to win, and Yu Yan genuinely did too.

Once, Bai Shuzhou had painted her a beautiful yet hazy vision of the future.

But in Zhu Yu, that vision had become tangible and warm.

Having such high-level access meant being able to access the Empire’s most precious and confidential research data. No researcher could remain indifferent to such an opportunity.

Initially, Yu Yan had timidly asked Zhu Yu if she could borrow her access to retrieve two papers from other fields.

But as soon as the words left her mouth, she broke out in a cold sweat. Every access attempt would leave an indelible record. Could this be a trap laid by the Territorial Administration Institute, designed to uncover who belonged to Bai Shuzhou’s faction?

Those in power never make unprofitable deals; every move they make is inevitably accompanied by deeper calculations of self-interest.

Especially Feng Jiang, the renowned figure. His decision to grant such high-level access was already suspiciously unsettling.

It was almost as if he were deliberately luring Zhu Yu, hoping she would follow some clue and uncover something.

“That’s easy,” Zhu Yu said, turning to shout in the Commoner Researchers’ group chat. “Anyone working on research beneficial to the Empire can come borrow my authority!”

Presenting flowers borrowed from the Buddha, spending the capitalist’s money with a clear conscience, Zhu Yu thought.

The researchers, tears welling in their eyes, eagerly drafted disclaimers for Zhu Yu, declaring that if such resource sharing and collaboration for scientific advancement were considered political maneuvering, they would gladly accept the consequences!

Many hands make light work. Yu Yan quickly organized the interested researchers, assigning different deduction tasks based on their respective specialties.

The Genesis project, which had been restarted, had its original records deliberately erased.

Just as Zhu Yu was feeling helpless, wondering whether to confront Feng Jiang directly, Yu Yan calmly said, “It’s alright. We’ll just reverse-engineer it.”

The workload was immense and daunting. Fortunately, every researcher present was a genius, one in ten thousand.

Zhu Yuxiao took a small step back, chuckling softly.

Each person deduced only one piece of the puzzle, ensuring their individual security. The final results were compiled by Yu Yan for integration.

Reverse-engineered data revealed that White Bird’s experimental code was AH-003, while Bai Shuzhou’s was AH-002, ranked according to some undisclosed metric.

The project had originally been a joint effort between the Empire and the Federation, involving 57 experimental subjects in the same batch. After being halted by unforeseen circumstances, all subjects except Bai Shuzhou were declared dead, leaving no survivors.

Clutching the thin stack of death reports that felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, Zhu Yu’s heart sank. Each page she turned represented a once-vibrant life.

AH-003’s status in the System was also listed as “deceased.”

People lie, and data certainly can too.

Genesis publicly claimed to be conducting research on genetics and Mental Power, but Zhu Yu was certain they were actually performing human experiments on Abilities.

Anger surged from her heart to her fingertips, a searing heat that made her fingers numb. She had to grip her wrist tightly to suppress the trembling.

Noticing Zhu Yu’s pale complexion, Yu Yan quickly rose and pulled a bottle of mint-flavored nutrient solution from the cabinet, forcing it down her throat.

The icy liquid rushed down her esophagus, instantly extinguishing the burning sensation. The overwhelming mint flavor shot straight to the top of her head, choking Zhu Yu until her senses cleared. She waved her hands frantically in refusal.

Yu Yan watched her with concern. Tomorrow was the day Zhu Yu and Bai Shuzhou were scheduled to formally sign the divorce papers—or, more accurately, to formally cancel the divorce.

“I’m fine,” Zhu Yu mouthed, but no sound came out. Only when she saw Yu Yan’s worried expression did she realize she hadn’t spoken aloud.

She pressed her hand to her throat, still feeling the faint vibration of her vocal cords. Each tremor was accompanied by a sharp, stinging pain, as if she had swallowed a mouthful of iron filings that were now lodged in her throat.

This time, even without Yu Yan’s urging, Zhu Yu knew she needed to rest.

Tomorrow, she had something far more important to do.

Melno had been acting mysteriously lately, and no one knew what she was busy with. Zhu Yu couldn’t find out where to sign the divorce papers tomorrow, so she had to search online. Following the guidance of helpful netizens, she compiled a list of procedures and jotted them down on a sticky note.

An Alpha who drags things out until the end of the divorce cooling-off period is rarely up to any good. Trying to coax an Omega back into marriage with cheap little gifts?

An employee at the Imperial Star Civil Affairs Bureau sneered on an anonymous forum, deliberately giving Zhu Yu incorrect instructions. They directed her to the “Confirm Divorce” office, specifically mentioning, “You know, the one with the two retired Marine Corps Alpha guards standing at the entrance.”

The Empire’s customs were simple and honest, and Zhu Yu trusted without suspicion.

Before bed, she drank her throat medicine. Just in case, she racked her brains and wrote a confession letter, planning to tuck it into the flowers she would give Bai Shuzhou tomorrow.

Having never experienced marriage, Zhu Yu was suddenly leaping straight to signing the divorce papers. The mere thought made her so excited she almost choked up.

Once she signed, her fate would officially change!

Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, Zhu Yu finally got up and tried on her clothes again.

Zhu Yu found the original owner’s style too flamboyant. Even the coordinated outfits the maids had prepared didn’t quite suit her taste. As she flipped through the clothes, she stumbled upon a military uniform.

Currently suspended from duty, she had removed her shoulder insignia. Yet, when she put the uniform on, it was still strikingly handsome, exuding a sharp, upright aura. Even the bloodshot eyes from her sleepless night seemed to add a touch of rakish charm.

Bai Shuzhou was watching military channels during the day… she’d probably like this style, right?

At six in the morning, while the world was still deep in slumber, Bai Shuzhou’s Light Brain received several selfies from Zhu Yu.

This was the first message Zhu Yu had sent her since clearing their chat history.

After sending them, Zhu Yu felt a pang of unease. The message seemed too calculated, as if she had stayed up all night just to seduce Bai Shuzhou.

After much deliberation, she considered deleting a few photos, leaving only one faceless shot.

Just to show her the uniform.

But it was too late to recall them. The young woman let out a silent groan, her anticipation turning to anxiety. She checked her Light Brain every few seconds, even dragging out the AI to ask if special notification sounds could be delayed.

The Empire’s AI was too intelligent, lacking any human warmth. It had consistently answered “no” to Zhu Yu’s questions, a response made possible by the highly advanced StarNet.

Eventually, Zhu Yu’s relentless questioning annoyed the AI, prompting its cold, emotionless reminder: The Light Brain isn’t malfunctioning. Reminders may be delayed, but love never is.

Zhu Yu fell silent for a moment.

Then she began searching for ways to permanently disable the Light Brain’s built-in AI.

At 6:30 AM, Zhu Yu pretended to go for a morning run, passing by the flower market. She picked up some flowers and strolled toward the Civil Affairs Bureau.

Her throat still felt a bit sore, so she drank a large bottle of hot water. The thermos worked too well, scalding her tongue. Zhu Yu felt a mix of frustration and resentment.

Why was everything going wrong today? She needed to be extra cautious.

At 7:00 AM, the diligent security guard arrived for work. Recognizing Zhu Yu, he politely informed her that the Civil Affairs Bureau wouldn’t open until 9:00 AM.

Zhu Yu said nothing, simply nodding with a mysterious smile and waving her hand with an air of profound understanding.

At 7:10 AM, the ground trembled, and a sonic boom reverberated across the Imperial Star. The terrified security guard dragged Zhu Yu, who had been posing dramatically by the entrance, into the security booth.

Blinding lights flashed, and Zhu Yu’s keen nose detected the heavy stench of bl00d. Her body reacted faster than her mind, shoving the guard into the booth and locking the door behind him, every muscle tensed.

Three warships materialized from thin air, hovering abruptly. Their identification markings were so worn they were barely discernible, the flags unrecognizable, leaving only an overwhelming sense of lethal intent.

The ships looked increasingly familiar, but before Zhu Yu could fully process it, a golden figure descended from the sky with impatient urgency. The tiger’s roar made her ears ring, and her carefully styled hair was instantly disheveled.

“Zhu Yu!” the woman roared.

While Zhu Yu and Bai Shuzhou had been gradually deepening their affection, Izalia had been fighting bloody battles for days to return in time for this moment.

Before leaving, she had just learned of Bai Shuzhou’s amnesia. The Emperor had summoned her privately, hinting, “I’d feel much more secure with you in that position.”

A sister is like a mother, Izalia thought. If the Emperor is ill, of course she can act as regent.

Clutching this promise, Izalia had embarked on a special mission to hunt down Star Pirates, executing them without mercy on the spot.

Burdened with urgent missions, she had even compressed several days’ worth of work to rush back using Interstellar Jump.

The young woman watched in astonishment as the bl00d-soaked golden Big Tiger slowly approached, its eerie green eyes fixed on her, a narrow scar slicing across its left eye.

For the first time, she truly grasped the overwhelming advantage that Beastmen and feral beasts possessed.

Unlike the decadent nobles or Insectoids she had encountered before, Izalia radiated pure, unadulterated killing intent. When a beast gains reason, it becomes slaughter incarnate, each step leaving a trail of bl00d, yet its gaze remained chillingly cold.

This was the true face of an Empire warrior, forged on the battlefield.

In the past, when Zhu Yu had met Izalia, Bai Shuzhou had always been by her side. Izalia had always seemed too clever, her heart burning with righteous fervor, and Zhu Yu had even found the Big Tiger’s tail rather endearing.

But now, the overwhelming stench of bl00d emanating from her made Zhu Yu’s throat burn. She held her breath, daring neither to look closely at the bloodstains nor to avert her gaze, fearing the tiger might suddenly pounce.

Izalia scanned Zhu Yu up and down, then glanced at the divorce registry behind her, sneering. “You’re finally here, making me clean up your mess. At least I’ve finally gotten some good news.”

At 7:30 AM, the majestic tigers transformed into human form, each clutching their Light Brains as they apologized and reported to the authorities for their unauthorized Interstellar Jump into the bustling city.

They had been so focused on making a grand entrance that they had completely overwhelmed the defense complaint hotline.

Even tigers fear this? Zhu Yu thought, suppressing a laugh. Her lips twisted into a strained, almost cruel smile—a smile that looked both amused and utterly indifferent.

At 8:59 AM, a staff member gripped the door handle tightly, cracking it open a sliver. Faced with these two formidable figures, they trembled, no one daring to interrupt.

Izalia, the tall, muscular, blonde-haired, blue-eyed young General, stood proudly with her arms crossed.

On the other side, the lean, upright Commoner’s Star, with his black hair and dark eyes, held a bouquet of flowers, neither humble nor arrogant.

Former superior and subordinate, now rivals in love, they faced each other in cold silence, neither uttering a word.

The tension was palpable, making onlookers shudder. Given the special occasion today, whispers circulated: Are they here for a divorce, or a duel for her hand?

With no suitable consort for the Emperor, Bai Shuzhou bore the hopes of the Dragon Clan’s continuation, making her of paramount importance to the Empire.

Exactly at nine o’clock.

The reporters, alerted by the news, arrived even before the Director of the Civil Affairs Bureau.

By the time the Director, dressed impeccably but panicked and having run two red lights in her frantic rush to the scene, arrived, the streets were already swarming with media from all corners. Cameras and microphones were primed, and oblivious passersby, mistaking the scene for a real-life drama, pushed forward to get a better look.

Struggling through the crowd, the Director’s legs nearly gave way.

For matters involving the royal family, dedicated staff typically handled everything at their residences. She had known all along that today’s divorce proceedings would be canceled.

But who could explain why Izalia, covered in bl00d, was standing beside Zhu Yu? Was this a threat? Or a coup in the making?

The pair looked less like they were here to file for divorce and more like they were about to be dragged to the front lines to punch the Federation, kick the universe, and conquer all of creation.

Forcing a strained smile, the Director cautiously asked:

“You… Your Highnesses, your presence here today… is this to finalize the divorce proceedings with His Highness the Duke?”