Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 5

After a long while, Zhu Yu pushed the door open and entered. Through her silver tongue and relentless persistence, she had successfully persuaded Helan to grant her a few extra days to pay her debt. Helan had even given her several gifts and introduced her to some acquaintances for part-time work, ensuring she could repay the debt quickly.

How wonderful, Zhu Yu thought. It’s practically guaranteed employment.

Zhu Yu silently clenched her fist and shouted at Helan’s retreating figure, “Thank you so much! Once my sister recovers, we’ll definitely come to thank you in person!”

Bai Shuzhou opened her eyes and saw Zhu Yu cradling a large pile of bottles and jars. It seemed even the decisive and beautiful Helan had fallen for her silver tongue.

Zhu Yu had always been like this.

She would quietly listen with an innocent face, secretly weaving intricate webs in her mind, meticulously crafting her schemes. Whether it was through flattery, playing the victim, or any other means, she would stop at nothing to achieve her goals.

Even Bai Shuzhou had been deceived by her.

Zhu Yu turned her head and saw those pale blue eyes fixed on her. Her own eyes lit up. “You’re awake!”

She rushed to the bedside, longing to hug Bai Shuzhou. In this unfamiliar world, Bai Shuzhou was the only person she felt even remotely familiar with. But as she reached out, she remembered her disheveled appearance. Sniffling, she suppressed her tears and clasped her hands behind her back.

“How are you feeling? Is anything bothering you?”

Bai Shuzhou’s face remained expressionless, her narrow eyes radiating coldness. Her voice was light and airy as she asked, “Why aren’t you calling me ‘Sister’ anymore?”

Blessed with natural beauty, her voice was clear and icy, even her mocking tone sounded like shards of ice lightly clinking between her lips.

Zhu Yu tilted her head, not understanding her meaning. A smile bloomed on her lips, and the little bird in her heart fluttered with joy, its excitement shining brightly in her eyes:

Is it okay?

Is it really okay?

The joyful bird soared upward, only to crash into a stone wall.

Bai Shuzhou’s pale blue eyes remained utterly emotionless, cold as ice. She closed her eyes, every lash radiating detachment and disdain.

Zhu Yu belatedly understood Bai Shuzhou’s meaning. She pinched her wrist and quietly explained, “It’s safer to use fake identities when we’re traveling. That way, if those bad guys come looking for us, they won’t find us so easily.”

Bai Shuzhou remained silent. Zhu Yu surreptitiously studied her expression before adding, “Besides, you wanted a divorce, right…?”

The original Zhu Yu had clung desperately to the Princess, refusing to divorce her. To legally dissolve their marriage, they would have to endure a mandatory cooling-off period followed by a second confirmation hearing.

Truly inhuman.

Zhu Yu worried that claiming a marital relationship would offend Bai Shuzhou, given the original owner’s unforgivable actions toward her. This relationship was clearly a shackle, a get-out-of-jail-free card.

She wholeheartedly supported divorce, wanting to set Bai Shuzhou free.

Not only was the original owner unworthy of Bai Shuzhou, but Zhu Yu believed that even the later Fox Prime Minister, who held sway over the southern district, and the spirited General Qingmei… none of them deserved her.

Bai Shuzhou was a radiant moon, destined to be revered by all.

Those tumultuous and misguided romances were merely shallow pits along her path to greatness.

The original owner had been Bai Shuzhou’s first wife and her first whetstone.

Zhu Yu refused to repeat those mistakes. She didn’t want to die, and Bai Shuzhou hadn’t grown stronger because of suffering. They could avoid all of this.

The woman remained expressionless, appearing to be asleep, her finger pressed against her temple. Only when she heard the word “divorce” did she tremble slightly, a faint, mocking smile curving her lips.

So eager to leave me now that we’re in a new environment?

“Someone wants to harm you,” Zhu Yu swallowed nervously, quickly adding, “But it’s not me!”

“I’m sorry for what happened before, but I swear I have nothing to do with those nobles who suddenly showed up. They knew you were on the Starship and still launched missiles…”

Bai Shuzhou was too intelligent to have missed this glaring contradiction.

Zhu Yu lowered her voice. “How can I contact your people? I suspect there are traitors within the Military and the nobility. Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to get you home.”

The girl cupped her hands around her mouth, whispering secrets as if through a megaphone. The warm breath tickled Bai Shuzhou’s ear, making her skin tingle. Bai Shuzhou frowned and leaned further into the corner.

Originally, her Imperial Sister had been reluctant to personally visit the border to offer condolences. It was Zhu Yu who rallied the officers, vehemently advocating for the trip and ultimately securing its approval.

The sudden fever, the Insectoid attack… every coincidence felt too convenient. Countless eyes were watching them, and those who stood to gain remained silent, determined to devour every last scrap of flesh and bone.

History was littered with such examples. Bai Shuzhou didn’t believe a word Zhu Yu said. This was likely just another farce born from a dispute over spoils.

Her Imperial Sister had been right all along: the outside world was dangerous, devoid of genuine sincerity. Everything was merely an exchange of interests.

And she was just another pawn in that game.

Bai Shuzhou’s eyes dimmed. When she shifted, she accidentally aggravated her wounds, biting her lip and drawing in a sharp, silent breath to suppress a groan of pain.

Zhu Yu perked up her ears and immediately retrieved the medicine Helan had given her. But as she reached out to offer it, she hesitated. Drugs prescribed by small clinics were often potent, possibly containing hormones. If they worked well for her, that was one thing, but what if they had side effects on Bai Shuzhou?

Alphas typically possessed robust constitutions. In just a short time, the wound on Zhu Yu’s arm had already healed significantly.

Meanwhile, Bai Shuzhou’s face was pale, her delicate blue veins visible beneath her fair skin, rising and falling gently with her suppressed breathing.

“Let me clean you up first, then treat your wounds,” Zhu Yu suggested.

In the ruins, for some reason, their Abilities were unusable. Zhu Yu was terrified that Bai Shuzhou might die right there.

Bai Shuzhou watched Zhu Yu take out the medicine, then reluctantly tuck it back into her pocket like a thief. She chuckled in exasperation, closing her eyes with a detached expression, as if a mere breeze could blow her away. Her slender back revealed the delicate butterfly bones beneath her skin as she lay motionless, showing no interest in anything and offering no response. Zhu Yu couldn’t help but lower her voice:

“If you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a yes. If you feel uncomfortable, just tell me, and I’ll be careful.”

Zhu Yu meticulously scrubbed the basin clean with a brush, then filled it with warm water. The towel was a gift from Helan—a brand-new, pink one with a cartoon kitten design that He Ming had deemed too childish.

She tested the water temperature with the back of her hand before gently wiping Bai Shuzhou’s face.

The warm, gentle touch brushed across her cheek, causing Bai Shuzhou’s long eyelashes to flutter.

Like a priceless porcelain statue, the dilapidated hut seemed to brighten as the dust was wiped away. When Bai Shuzhou’s pale blue eyes slowly opened, they became the room’s most exquisite adornment, surpassing the brilliance of any jewel in the world.

But as her clothes were removed, stark, branching scars began to appear on her porcelain skin, shocking in their severity. They twisted and disappeared into deeper recesses of her body.

Omegas are typically highly sensitive, with delicate skin and tender hearts. Even a minor bump could leave a bruise.

Yet the injuries on Bai Shuzhou’s body were clearly far more severe.

They resembled surgical scars left by sharp blades, faint traces that would remain even after healing, aching faintly during damp, rainy days for years to come.

Bai Shuzhou had once been the Empire’s most gifted Imperial Princess. Her first Mental Power assessment as a child yielded a staggering 3S rating—a pinnacle many could never reach in their entire lives, yet merely a trivial beginning for her.

But during her childhood, she suffered a severe illness. The Dragon Clan’s bone wings fractured, rendering her unable to fly again. From that moment on, she never fully recovered, and the rare disease continued to recur intermittently.

It was then that she fell in love with ballet.

Having lost the sky, she danced on the ground instead.

But now, her legs were injured too, perhaps forever barring her from the stage she had once proudly graced.

Zhu Yu’s hovering fingers trembled as she traced the scars, as if she could feel the snow-white blades slicing through skin, the bl00d gushing forth… It hurt so much.

Bai Shuzhou rarely spoke of these past wounds, only occasionally lifting a corner of the veil in the quiet of night. But Zhu Yu had listened carelessly then, even deliberately kissing the scars, her lips brushing against the lingering pain as she murmured with a husky laugh:

“So beautiful.”

She had stroked the pale pink scars inch by inch with the thin calluses on her fingertips, her tone teasing and suggestive. “Is this where roses grow from?”

Bai Shuzhou couldn’t help but tremble slightly, clenching her jaw to swallow the urge to show weakness.

It was a subtle tremor, but Zhu Yu noticed immediately. She softened her movements and coaxed gently, “I’m sorry. I’ll do everything I can to heal you.”

Zhu Yu was skilled at fixing things—broken alarm clocks, malfunctioning phones, stalled machinery. With a little tinkering, she could make them work like new again.

If there had to be a reason for her inexplicable time travel, perhaps it was to heal Bai Shuzhou that she had come here.

Zhu Yu carefully unwrapped the gauze. Beneath it, Bai Shuzhou’s slender, bare legs were a blurred mess of crudely applied red medicine. The dancer’s most prized possessions were now bloodied and slightly twisted at the joints.

“I’m so sorry… it must hurt so much…”

Bai Shuzhou lowered her gaze, her indifferent eyes reflecting the girl’s reddened nose. Zhu Yu carefully placed her hands above the wound, familiar warm light seeping through her fingers like faint, weightless fireflies.

It was Zhu Yu who had pushed her off the high platform, and it was Zhu Yu who had caused her to be bitten by the insects.

What was this hypocritical display of grief now? She always acted like this, putting on nauseating performances.

Bai Shuzhou’s pale blue eyes remained utterly still, a flicker of scornful hatred surfacing within them. It didn’t hurt. Only these legs—there was no pain at all. She could no longer feel their existence.

She had once pursued perfect control over her body, but countless hours of practice and dance couldn’t withstand Zhu Yu’s gentle push.

With such ease, Zhu Yu could always destroy what Bai Shuzhou cherished most.

Abilities originated from mental power. If not for the accidental connection between her mental power’s deep repair and the Heat Period, would she still have to grovel before Zhu Yu, begging her to release pheromones and soothe her?

After a long silence, Bai Shuzhou finally spoke, “Are you satisfied now?”

The girl lifted her head, a hint of joy in her eyes at Bai Shuzhou finally speaking to her. “What?”

“Now I’m completely crippled,” Bai Shuzhou said, meeting her gaze directly. “Just like you.”

The Empire embraced Beast Transformation, while the Federation pursued high technology. As humanity marched toward the future, they had chosen two drastically different paths.

Zhu Yu was a product of the brief honeymoon period between the Empire and the Federation. As a hybrid, she lacked a beast form and couldn’t undergo Beast Transformation, making her akin to a congenital cripple in the Empire, where martial prowess and bloodlines were revered.

Bai Shuzhou repeated, “Are you satisfied now?”

The girl looked up at her, taking a moment to grasp the meaning of her words. Her mouth opened and closed, and finally she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Bai Shuzhou had grown weary of this mechanical apology. She closed her eyes in disgust.

Zhu Yu fell silent, the light in her palm intensifying, almost solidifying as it poured ceaselessly into the gruesome wounds.

She exerted herself to the utmost, squandering her Mental Power like squeezing juice from a lemon, her lips pressing into an increasingly pale line.

The bloody surface wounds were healing, but she gradually felt a chilling cold emanating from deep within Bai Shuzhou’s body, a black hole greedily devouring energy.

She’s severely injured…

Zhu Yu gritted her teeth, wanting to push harder, but this meager energy was merely a drop in the bucket.

Her Mental Power had already been nearly exhausted, and now she was at her limit, her slender frame swaying precariously.

“Enough!”

The woman suddenly raised her gaze, seized Zhu Yu’s wrist, and forcibly cut off the light. Her voice was icy as she said, “Is self-pitying melodrama amusing to you?”

“Even if you died here right now, it wouldn’t help me in the slightest.”

The girl lowered her head dejectedly, like a puppy, placed the towel back in the basin, scrubbed it vigorously, and turned to leave.

Bai Shuzhou closed her eyes, leaned back against the lone pillow, and took a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell slightly, and the nails digging into her palm finally relaxed after a long moment.

If I just wait a little longer, Imperial Sister will find me as quickly as possible.

Zhu Yu had violently ripped off her optical computer, then crushed it under her heel right in front of her, leaving red marks on her wrist that still hadn’t faded.

A clanging sound came from outside the door, causing Bai Shuzhou’s dangling fingers to involuntarily twitch before she clenched them into a fist.

She’s only been calm for a few minutes, and Zhu Yu is already going crazy again? Just as I thought…

Outside the door, Zhu Yu had cleared a space in the courtyard and begun sorting through the mountain of discarded appliances and junk. Items crashed down from the higher piles, and she barely dodged a flying screw that would have hit her head.

Most of the debris was worthless scrap, but there were also some broken and outdated parts. Since Zhu Yu knew how to repair things, she could salvage quite a few treasures from the pile—it was like letting a rat loose in a rice bin.

Sister Helan is such a good person!

When the crashing sounds stopped, the girl’s footsteps faded away, and dusk began to settle.

Bai Shuzhou was left alone in the dimly lit room, the newspaper wallpaper rustling faintly in the breeze.

At twilight, the silence was often so profound that she could hear her own heartbeat.

Bai Shuzhou gazed at the faintly glowing window and struggled to sit up, wanting to turn on the light.

She inched toward the edge of the bed, her numb legs heavy and cumbersome. Not long ago, she had been dancing gracefully on stage, but now she couldn’t even feel the impact of her own fists pounding on her legs.

So close, yet just out of reach.

Her tense fingers couldn’t quite reach the light switch.

She couldn’t even turn on the light.

Her pride shattered, her slender shoulders trembled. She bit her lip, tears soaking the blanket, only to be wiped away moments later by her delicate fingers.

When did I become so fragile?

This blanket was all she had left. She couldn’t let it get any dirtier.

Bai Shuzhou buried her face in her arms, suppressing her sobs, trying to think rationally.

Click.

Suddenly, the light flickered on, bathing the room in a warm yellow glow.

Zhu Yu stood awkwardly at the doorway, watching the woman’s stifled weeping abruptly cease, leaving only shallow, ragged breaths.

She quietly set down her things. From behind her, Bai Shuzhou’s voice came: “Don’t look at me.”

The cold voice still carried its usual arrogance, but it was so frail, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch.

Zhu Yu nodded emphatically, quickened her movements, and then, keeping her back turned, crab-walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

When silence returned to the room, Bai Shuzhou lifted her head from her damp arms. On the table beside the bed, she saw a glass of water and a steaming bowl of rice.

There was also a deep blue porcelain bottle with a chipped rim, holding a few wildflowers.

All within easy reach.