Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 47

Zhu Yu had always enjoyed robust health, rarely falling ill throughout her life. Even common colds were a rarity.

Lacking experience with illness, she couldn’t determine whether this was a severe cold or some other strange ailment. Every attempt to speak felt like countless tiny blades scraping her throat, sending waves of searing pain through her.

To save time, Izalia roughly hoisted Zhu Yu onto the warship and sped toward the Royal Academy of Sciences.

Over the comms, the dispatchers at command central furiously cursed her as a “madwoman,” yet they had no choice but to urgently clear all airspace, carving out an exclusive green corridor for the reckless warship.

The Military, accustomed to its overbearing dominance, was particularly emboldened by its youngest general, Izalia. Had this not been the Imperial Star, she could have split a planet in half, and few would have dared to protest.

Zhu Yu was also a former subordinate of Izalia, and many familiar faces filled the warship. But the military valued loyalty above all else. Zhu Yu had climbed the ranks by stepping over Izalia and seducing her superior officer’s beloved. Those who had risked life and limb alongside Izalia naturally wouldn’t give Zhu Yu a warm welcome.

Some had even come prepared to snatch the bride. When Zhu Yu appeared, old grudges and fresh resentments flared. They glared at her like predators, cracking their knuckles and greeting her with forced smiles—if threateningly clenched fists could be considered greetings.

Cangying sat hunched in a corner, her gray hair plastered messily against her forehead. The wound on her right arm gaped, raw flesh exposed and even bone visible beneath. She gritted her teeth as she unwrapped the bandage and applied gel. When Zhu Yu approached, she stubbornly endured the pain to raise her left hand and flip her off.

A Feline Beastman lying on a stretcher deliberately tripped Zhu Yu with his tail as she passed, nearly causing her to step on him. He howled in outrage, “You have the nerve to come back!”

Strangely, despite the group’s overt hostility and aggression, Zhu Yu felt no genuine sense of danger. As she faced their clenched fists and angry faces, her mind drifted back to the detailed notes the original Zhu Yu had left in her contacts.

Her gaze landed on the canned food beside Cangying’s hand, then swept over the fish oil capsules scattered near the Feline Beastman’s paw—all meticulously recorded in the original Zhu Yu’s notes.

Cangying is a late-in-life child. Her mother is quite old and spoiled, with a rather temperamental nature. She needs extra care and shouldn’t be sent to the front lines. She loves canned food #3 but hates drinking water. That Feline Beastman keeps secretly throwing away her fish oil capsules. Sheds too much to be sent on reconnaissance missions. Has terrible situational awareness—I still don’t know how he managed to graduate…

They had once known each other so intimately.

Zhu Yu felt a pang of relief that her voice was still hoarse. Otherwise, speaking might have betrayed that she was no longer the Zhu Yu they remembered.

For the first time, she fully realized that these people had likely once been the original Zhu Yu’s friends, only to have their paths diverge.

The original owner had recorded so many trivial details in that massive address book, it seemed… not entirely for the sake of “raising fish.”

The metallic stench of bl00d inside the cabin grew stronger, churning Zhu Yu’s stomach. Unable to bear going further, she turned and retreated into the restroom. She twisted open the bottle of Loquat Dew that the enthusiastic florist had pressed upon her that morning and gulped down more than half of it.

The cloyingly sweet liquid slid down her throat, but it did nothing to quell the nausea. Leaning over the sink, she dry-heaved, images flashing before her eyes: the wounded soldiers on the warship, the shredded flesh clinging to Izalia’s buttons. She emptied her stomach completely.

A tiny, flickering flame flickered out with her retching, instantly extinguished under the gushing faucet. Zhu Yu didn’t notice.

Feeling much better after vomiting, she let out a surprised, “Huh—”

She touched her throat, faced the mirror, and carefully, deliberately, tried to speak: “I am Zhu Yu.”

The slightly hoarse voice echoed back from the mirror. The woman in military uniform, her eyes sharp and alert, gazed back at her, raising an eyebrow. “I am Zhu Yu.”

She repeated it, utterly satisfied.

She could still speak, and she hadn’t turned into a duck. On such an important day, she’d rather not speak at all than risk that.

Zhu Yu attributed this to the miraculous Loquat Dew. After a quick wash, she practiced her marriage vows in the mirror, ensuring every word was clear and flawless, leaving no room for error.

Yet none of the elaborate, ceremonial rituals she had imagined materialized.

Everyone seemed to tacitly skip the superfluous steps, leaving only Zhu Yu feeling bewildered, sensing that something vital was missing.

In Zhu Yu’s imagination, marriage was sacred. They would place their hands together on The Origin of Life and swear their vows, her hand on top, symbolizing her promise to shield Izalia from life’s storms. In this vast, desolate universe, as long as they held each other’s hands tightly, they would never lose their way.

The mere thought of this scene had kept Zhu Yu awake all night, her eyes burning with emotion.

But the reality was starkly different: the staff simply asked them to sign their names on a flimsy piece of paper.

Izalia vehemently resisted, her anger rising as she naively believed she could stall the process.

The staff member, relieved, sighed deeply and calmly presented ten copies of the agreement, his expression unchanged.

“Here’s an ugly one for the Great General to tear up for fun,” he said, handing her a copy.

A 25-year-old Bai Shuzhou might have weighed the pros and cons and followed Bai Qianze’s arrangements. But the 18-year-old Bai Shuzhou had only one unwavering demand: “Bring my Imperial Sister to see me.”

Izalia clutched at her hair in anguish. “Your Highness, this is for the sake of the Empire. We need a more capable heir…”

Those pale blue eyes fixed her with a cold stare. Though the gaze was light, it carried an undeniable authority. “I don’t know what has happened in recent years that even you would defy me.”

When the Empress first chose Izalia as her playmate, it was to pave the way for the future. Had things gone as planned, Bai Shuzhou would have been the undisputed heir to the Empire.

But fate had other plans. She fell ill, unable to undergo Beast Transformation. The Empire could never accept a frail, disabled ruler.

Despite this, her mother still clung to the hope of a miracle, refusing to relinquish power until Bai Shuzhou differentiated into an Omega. That same year, Bai Qianze ascended the throne.

Standing beside Bai Shuzhou, Zhu Yu watched Izalia wilt and couldn’t help but secretly raise an eyebrow in triumph.

Since vomiting, her physical discomfort had significantly eased.

Riding on Bai Shuzhou’s coattails, Zhu Yu boldly retorted to Izalia. Under the Princess’s invisible protection, Izalia sheathed her claws, her demeanor shifting from a small fish spreading its fins to a smugness that even tinged her deliberately stern expression.

See? My wife is on my side, of course!

But when it came time to sign the agreement, Zhu Yu froze, staring blankly at the document Bai Shuzhou had already signed.

Bai Shuzhou’s handwriting was exquisite, each delicate stroke imbued with a powerful, graceful force—a reflection of her own cold, elegant nature. She had signed the document Zhu Yu had cherished and longed for in mere seconds.

The process of canceling their divorce was shockingly simple, almost perfunctory, devoid of any ceremony.

The grand bouquet of flowers Zhu Yu had brought now seemed jarringly out of place and superfluous.

The depths of imperial affairs run deep, the staff member mused, mentally drafting a hundred thousand words of love, hate, intrigue, and conspiracy. Afraid to rush her, they remained silent. It was Bai Shuzhou who finally frowned slightly, her pale fingertip tapping the document. “What are you waiting for? Sign it.”

Bai Shuzhou tapped the document lightly with her fingertip, her tone flat. “We’ve already signed the agreement. It’s too late to regret it now.”

“How could I possibly regret it!” Zhu Yu snatched the pen, barely glancing at the agreement’s contents before neatly signing her name in the designated space.

Her handwriting was as precise as tiny squares, perfectly balanced and orderly, forming a stark contrast to Bai Shuzhou’s elegant, slender-script calligraphy.

Including Izalia’s interruption, the entire process took no more than ten minutes.

After seeing the staff off, Bai Shuzhou casually inquired about the war situation, as if canceling the divorce were merely an insignificant detail, a minor incident not worth mentioning beforehand.

Because it was unimportant, there was no need to bring it up earlier.

Meanwhile, Zhu Yu’s massive bouquet of flowers, along with the carefully written confession letter hidden inside, lay forgotten on the outer table, as if they had been left behind.

Dismissing the servants, Bai Shuzhou ordered Izalia forward, her narrow eyes narrowing.

“Imperial Sister, where have you been? What have you been doing? Tell me everything you know.”

“I will take full responsibility for all consequences.”

Izalia glanced at Zhu Yu beside her, pressed her lips together, and hesitated before speaking.

Bai Shuzhou said calmly, “If he’s not coming, then he’s not coming. There’s no need for him to visit again.”

Izalia gritted her teeth, unwilling to directly criticize Bai Qianze but unable to completely evade the issue. She hesitated before revealing, “It concerns the Empire’s grand strategy. Bai Qianze is extremely busy, but he still worries about you.”

Bai Shuzhou closed her eyes. “Then he’s not coming.”

Her indifferent tone was reminiscent of the way she had withdrawn her invitation without warning years ago. A sudden wave of panic washed over Izalia. She knew all too well that Bai Shuzhou never gave second chances and loathed being pestered.

Izalia mumbled, “It’s about the experimental subject from years ago. The Military needs to activate…”

“Activate?” Bai Shuzhou’s hand, resting on the pristine white sheets, tightened imperceptibly. Her expression turned so cold it could freeze water. “I refuse.”

Her tone was uncharacteristically firm. She had already promised to protect AH-003 and would not break her word again.

“The matter is already on the Senate’s agenda,” Izalia shook her head, sighing softly. “The investment has been too great. They won’t abandon it. Without corresponding value, the Academy of Sciences will abandon treatment. This is a… very expensive investment.”

Bai Shuzhou interrupted her. “I will personally cover all treatment costs.”

“It’s not about the money,” Izalia said, her voice strained. “It’s about resource allocation. You know how difficult this disease is to manage. The fact that they’ve survived this long is already…”

Izalia abruptly stopped, realizing she’d said too much.

“They?” Bai Shuzhou seized on the word.

“Ahem… Zhu Yu, why are you still standing here? Is this something you should be listening to?!” Izalia forcefully changed the subject, turning her attention to Zhu Yu.

Some topics were too sensitive; knowing too much wasn’t always a good thing. Bai Shuyu lowered his gaze and said calmly, “You may leave.”

“Alright.” With the elder’s command, Zhu Yu could only nod and walk out. Compared to these weighty matters, signing a marriage continuation agreement truly seemed trivial.

A dull drowsiness crept over her. Leaning against the cold wall, Zhu Yu half-listened to the muffled conversation inside, yet that unsettling feeling resurfaced. Izalia’s mention of needing value to receive treatment, treating live research subjects as investments, was truly…

Damn it.

A crimson, bl00d-soaked thought slammed into her mind, jolting Zhu Yu awake. She straightened up and vigorously rubbed her face.

Sister, anger destroys wisdom. It’s a catastrophic state.

It’s alright. She’ll help Bai Shuzhou! They’re not alone.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, casting bright patches of light across the pristine white corridor. The woman stood alone by the window, her hands clasped together, and solemnly recited the marriage vows—a declaration unheard by any living soul—in a hushed voice.

Inside the room, Izalia was reporting the battle situation to Bai Shuzhou. Vibrant lives had been reduced to strings of cold numbers, and the once-blurred gray territories surrounding the Empire were being illuminated one by one by the flames of war.

Izalia made no mention of Bai Qianze, but the Emperor’s disappearance for several days, the Federation’s sudden cooperation, and the urgent military maneuvers led Bai Shuzhou to suspect a connection.

It’s related to the “future.”

AH-001’s Ability was prophecy.

She died in the radiant spring sunlight, never reaching the future she had foreseen.

Though the child likely never grasped the concept of seasons. From birth, her body had been riddled with tubes, her life sustained only by the cold, precise medical instruments that surrounded her.

At the time, Bai Shuzhou couldn’t understand the complex numerical values in the autopsy report. Later, she would receive many similar reports, one after another.

Once, she had believed everything those people told her without question.

But now, AH-003 stood before her, alive and breathing.

AH-001’s value far surpassed Bai Shuzhou’s. If she were still alive…

Lies permeated everything like air, making it impossible to discern the truth.

Bai Qianze was the Empire’s most powerful Alpha, capable of suppressing the chaotic mental states of Ability Users during their berserk episodes, but at a tremendous cost. When Bai Shuzhou lost control, she had even attacked Qian Ze.

Qian Ze never spoke of these sacrifices. The more she displayed restraint and self-control, the heavier the guilt weighed on Bai Shuzhou’s heart.

Born to carry the hopes of the entire Empire, she had bloomed briefly like the ephemera flower, only to wither rapidly, leaving behind seemingly nothing but the duty to reproduce.

Before turning eighteen, Bai Shuzhou had eagerly anticipated adulthood, believing that growing stronger would magically solve all her problems.

But why, after all these years, did she still feel so powerless?!

Seeing Izalia finally leave, Zhu Yu, who had been waiting by the door, immediately poked her head in, hurried to retrieve the nearly forgotten bouquet of flowers from the outer room, and gently placed it beside Bai Shuzhou’s bed.

“Such beautiful flowers,” Bai Shuzhou murmured softly, her gaze fixed on Zhu Yu’s face.

The young woman’s eyes lit up instantly.

Seizing the opportunity, she pulled out the carefully prepared confession letter and offered it to Bai Shuzhou. But Bai Shuzhou merely glanced at it casually before extending her pinky finger to hook Zhu Yu’s, pulling her closer to sit down. Then, she wrapped her arms around Zhu Yu’s neck, tilted her head back, and kissed her deeply.

This was no longer a fleeting, gentle touch. Noses brushed as the woman, driven by an almost desperate longing, deepened the kiss. Zhu Yu, dazed by the kiss, instinctively tightened her embrace, her warm palms instinctively stroking Bai Shuzhou’s slender, slightly trembling back in a comforting gesture.

A faint golden halo swirled around their intertwined crimson tongues. The kiss carried a faint, almost imperceptible metallic tang. Zhu Yu’s lip seemed to have been bitten open with a hint of greed, the subtle pain mingling with an indescribable tenderness that was swallowed whole.

The rose fragrance lingering in the air now carried a faint, undeniable bitterness, a stark contrast to its earlier ambiguous sweetness.

Zhu Yu opened her eyes and saw that the pale blue eyes held no trace of desire. Bai Shuzhou was merely taking, and Zhu Yu had never been able to refuse her.

This was not the expression one should have during intimacy. Zhu Yu recalled their first kiss. Back then, Bai Shuzhou’s eyes had still held turbulent waves of fierce hatred, not this pure… utilization.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Zhu Yu asked breathlessly, her voice hoarse from the kiss and worry.

Bai Shuzhou gazed at Zhu Yu’s bitten lip, a thin trickle of bl00d seeping from the corner, adding a touch of allure to her clear, obedient face.

She didn’t answer, but instead took Zhu Yu’s hand again, tilted her head, and gently kissed the corner of her lip, as if wanting to continue.

Cool lips brushed against her ear, carrying a slightly damp breath. Bai Shuzhou murmured, “Kiss me.”

Zhu Yu gathered a gentle, warm light in her palm and pressed it against the back of Bai Shuzhou’s hand. Her tone was stiff. “Is this all you want? A massage would work too. Why insist on…”

The woman raised her eyebrows, her first command met with such hesitation. She frowned slightly. “This is faster. You refuse?”

As if to salvage some dignity and assertiveness, she added haughtily, “It’s stipulated in the agreement.”

The word “agreement” stung Zhu Yu deeply. She withdrew her hand and blurted out, “Wouldn’t it be faster to just do it directly?”

It was a rash remark, and Zhu Yu regretted it the moment the words left her mouth. It sounded disrespectful.

But Bai Shuzhou merely gazed at her quietly, pressing her lips together. Her pale blue eyes reflected Zhu Yu’s image. After a few seconds of contemplation, her icy voice carried the weight of discussing matters of national importance:

“True.”

“No Marking.”