Transmigrated as the Imperial Princess's Scumbag Alpha Ex-Wife - Chapter 9

The first time Bai Shuzhou called her name, it was followed by a furious slap.

The first time she said “come here” and pulled down her mask, Zhu Yu felt a slight chill, then the sudden softness of her lips.

Bai Shuzhou’s beautiful voice always stirred Zhu Yu’s emotions so easily—fear was real, anticipation was real, and Zhu Yu couldn’t resist.

Just gazing into those pale blue eyes, Zhu Yu couldn’t imagine anyone daring to hurt her, let alone cruelly abduct her daughter as leverage for blackmail…

Stop thinking about your daughter!

Even with her limited understanding of this strange world, Zhu Yu knew that pregnancy didn’t happen from a single kiss. A kiss was likely Bai Shuzhou’s absolute limit, forced by circumstances… She’s practically an ex-wife-in-waiting already. Any further clinging would be downright rude!

Zhu Yu forced herself to look away. The entire room was filled with the aroma of food. She noticed a large electric rice cooker, wisps of white steam rising from its vent.

Helan stood nearby with her arms crossed, her expression toward Zhu Yu complex. But the younger woman remained oblivious, her attention fixed on Bai Shuzhou, whether through direct gazes or furtive glances, with only a thin veneer of clumsy disguise.

Her thoughts raced like a whirlwind, but in reality, Zhu Yu simply walked toward Bai Shuzhou, feigning composure as she replied, “I’m back.”

A tall stack of bowls piled on the wooden table formed a miniature porcelain mountain. Through this small peak, the woman’s slightly fuller face flushed with color, her voice remaining soft, “How was work?”

Bai Shuzhou was actually showing concern for her. Zhu Yu, overwhelmed by this unexpected attention, pinched her wrist. “It was good. The work is easy, everyone’s been very kind to me, and lunch is provided. I’ve met some wonderful colleagues.”

“Really?” Her thin lips barely brushed together.

Their eyes met. Zhu Yu watched as that excessively beautiful face, previously serene and indifferent, rippled with a subtle emotion. She smiled.

This was the first time Zhu Yu had seen Bai Shuzhou smile. Her pale blue eyes traced the crescent moon’s outline—not a full moon, but a sharp, jagged sliver of moonlight.

A moment of silence, a moment echoing with the thunderous roar of a thousand warhorses.

There were no signal fires to summon feudal lords, and she was no Zhou Youwang. She was merely a small, dazed person gazing up at the bright moon.

Whether it was mockery or feigned sincerity, Zhu Yu couldn’t decipher it. All she knew was that her smile was genuine, like the mottled shadows on the moon, making her ethereal emotions seem all the more real.

The young woman remained silent, her wrist-pinching a clear sign of intense emotional turmoil. Bai Shuzhou lowered her gaze with satisfaction, concealing the bone-chilling coldness in her eyes, unwilling to spare Zhu Yu another glance.

Born into poverty, Zhu Yu had amassed a vast collection of luxury goods after gaining power on the Imperial Star. Her private persona stood in stark contrast to the carefully cultivated image of a “commoner’s star” she projected in public.

One drunken night, dressed in an Arlanka silk gown, its bodice half-open, she grinned as she poured royal-grade rose wine over herself. The crimson liquid soaked her collarbones and trickled down her chest. Raising the empty wine glass, she toasted to no one in particular.

“I,” she declared, “will absolutely, positively never go back to those days.”

“I will have money, power, fame—everyone will kneel at my feet…”

Bai Shuzhou still remembered their first meeting, when Zhu Yu would share stories of her part-time jobs. Back then, she had pretended to be a diligent and resilient “pure white flower,” but in truth, she had seethed with hatred for those days of swallowing her pride.

“Why can’t you see the hardships of the common people, Your Highness the Princess?”

I do see them, Zhu Yu.

Since you enjoy putting on a show so much…

Why don’t you reenact those hardships for me, just one more time?

Bai Shuzhou took the handkerchief, wiped her fingers, raised an eyebrow, leaned back against the bed, and smiled at Helan.

The smile was light and airy, utterly weightless. Helan couldn’t bear to look and turned away.

Helan glanced at He Ming, who was running around joyfully, then at Zhu Yu, and sighed softly. “Little Yu, let’s step outside to talk.”

This reaction… Zhu Yu felt a sudden, ominous premonition, as if this were the final announcement in a hospital room, the doctor deliberately calling the family away.

Pah, pah, pah! How could I think such an unlucky thing? Bai Shuzhou will live to be a hundred!

Helan was still carefully choosing her words, trying to break the news gently. “There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“The bad news.”

“The bad news is… your sister may have injured her spine, not just her legs. Do you understand what I mean?”

Helan paused. “In other words, she might be paralyzed, never able to stand again. The treatment would cost at least several hundred thousand credits, and even if she recovers, she’ll likely suffer lasting complications.”

The silence stretched, the moon sinking lower, growing larger in the sky until it filled Zhu Yu’s vision with a blinding white.

Zhu Yu knew how much Bai Shuzhou loved ballet. She had dedicated countless hours to perfecting every movement, achieving flawless execution. At such a young age, she had already become the principal dancer, her performances selling out instantly.

Even the leaders of the opposing Federation had once remarked, “Art knows no borders,” expressing their desire to invite the Princess for cultural exchange.

She was the Empire’s rose, the creator’s darling, a constellation of accolades that barely scratched the surface of her true brilliance.

This outcome… it was simply unbearable.

No wonder Bai Shuzhou had turned dark. If someone had broken her hands, robbing her of the ability to pursue her passion, Zhu Yu would have wanted to strangle them too.

“What about the good news?” The voice that squeezed from Zhu Yu’s throat sounded strained and unnatural.

Helan patted Zhu Yu’s shoulder gently. “The good news is, her appetite remains strong. Being able to eat is a blessing. She’ll gradually recover.”

Bai Shuzhou’s appetite was surprisingly good, even remarkably so. By the time she finished her third bowl of noodles, Helan was worried she might overeat. But by the thirteenth bowl of vegetables, Helan was simply curious about how much she could actually consume.

Seeing Zhu Yu’s bewildered expression, Helan sighed inwardly. Bai Shuzhou must have been starving for a long time. For the poor, a large appetite was practically a sin.

Helan herself had always been a big eater, so she understood this all too well. When her mother lost her job, the family had to survive on the cheapest, near-expired nutrient solutions. Many people on this planet lived the same way.

The reason large nutrient solution factories were established here wasn’t just because of cheap labor. A significant factor was that, under the Interstellar Food Safety Act, many substandard products that should have been destroyed could be sold locally at rock-bottom prices without any liability. The people would even be grateful.

“She didn’t want me to tell you about her illness, probably because she’s worried about money. Even just food is a considerable expense now. You’re still in school, and you have to buy Interstellar Flight Tickets to get there, right?”

Zhu Yu gripped her wrist and nodded.

Even with such severe injuries, Bai Shuzhou still didn’t want her to know.

The image of the woman biting her lip, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, involuntarily resurfaced in Zhu Yu’s mind. So proud, how could she ever accept pity?

If it were the original owner of this body—that scum—she might have deliberately mocked Bai Shuzhou’s pain, using it as a weapon.

To her, Bai Shuzhou’s suffering was merely a weakness to be exploited.

Why hadn’t the Imperial Guard come looking for her yet, to escort her back to the Imperial Palace?

Your Highness the Princess is in my hands!

For a moment, Zhu Yu even considered resorting to desperate measures to attract official attention, but on the Garbage Planet, no one cared.

No one could have imagined that the battered aircraft Zhu Yu had secretly hidden was once an experimental prototype of the Military. Nor could they have conceived that an Inferior Alpha could pilot such a flawed machine through a high-risk Interstellar Jump.

Even the most elite ace pilots had to exercise extreme caution when performing an Interstellar Jump. The slightest miscalculation could lead to being swallowed by collapsing space, leaving no trace of their existence.

They should have been annihilated in the crossfire. Yet the enraged Emperor had ordered that their remains be found before declaring them dead. This was a vile kidnapping, a conspiracy—they must still be on the run!

Zhu Yu was completely oblivious to the political turmoil shaking the Empire. All she knew was that she needed money—lots and lots of it.

They had no money. Without it, they would starve and be unable to afford Bai Shuzhou’s medical treatment.

Back home, Zhu Yu had never worried about such things. Though her mother was often absent, her sister always managed to solve every problem.

Now, it was her turn to shoulder these responsibilities.

Helan sighed, gently prying Zhu Yu’s reddened wrist free. After checking that the door was securely closed, she lowered her voice: “If you don’t mind, I can introduce you to a nightclub for night shifts. The pay is high—six hundred credits per night, plus commissions on alcohol sales. But…”

Hearing about the six hundred credits plus commissions, Zhu Yu immediately lifted her chin, her voice firm: “I’ll do it!”

Helan hadn’t expected such an immediate agreement. The crumpled piece of paper in her hand became useless. She straightened her expression and said:

“Officially, it’s a nightclub, but in reality, it’s a smuggling hub. Goods between the Imperial Federation change hands here. If you really want to go, remember: keep your head down, work hard, and earn your base pay. Don’t get involved in anything you shouldn’t. Those operations are run by the Triads and Interstellar Pirates, understand?”

“Save up for two Interstellar Flight Tickets to the Third-Tier Star Region, to a major city. It’s different there; someone will have your back, at least…” Helan trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

“Okay, thank you. I understand,” Zhu Yu replied firmly, bowing deeply to her.

“Also, just pay me for the groceries. I’ll waive the rent.”

Zhu Yu hesitated. “That doesn’t seem right. Raising Little Ming alone must be tough. I can earn extra by repairing and scavenging electronics. I studied maintenance, even worked on aircraft.”

“Ahem,” Helan coughed, her eyes flickering at the mention of “aircraft.” She pressed her lips together, swallowing the words that had nearly escaped.

The small courtyard she rented to them had been abandoned for years, with no real owner. Helan simply lived nearby and happened to know how to pick the lock.

“You really know how to repair aircraft?” Helan asked.

“Yes,” Zhu Yu confirmed. Though the technology was from her previous life, the fundamental principles remained universal. You can’t lift yourself by your own bootstraps, no matter how advanced the universe becomes.

Helan had extensive connections, and Zhu Yu looked at her expectantly, hoping for a job referral.

But Helan said nothing more, merely patted her shoulder and told her to focus on her current work.

As Zhu Yu took her leave, Helan scrutinized her intently, her gaze lingering on Zhu Yu’s slender, bony hands.

After a moment’s contemplation, Helan turned and called out, “Little Ming, it’s time to go home. Are you planning to stay the night?”

He Ming poked her head out of the room, her cheerful obliviousness to the tense atmosphere radiating. “Really? I saw a sleeping mat here!”

“Fine, then don’t bother coming back.”

“Eeeek!” He Ming stamped her foot in panic, rushing out while waving goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Sister!”

Silence settled over the room once more.

Bai Shuzhou lowered her gaze, waiting for Zhu Yu to drop her pretense. Financial insecurity had always been Zhu Yu’s Achilles’ heel. Born in a slum, she was both vain and insecure, yet she loved to flaunt her supposed deep emotions.

After all her twists and turns, she had returned to the starting point she loathed most.

Bai Shuzhou knew exactly what Zhu Yu valued most: money, power, and prestige. For these, she had maintained her facade for years, taking every shortcut available. How could she possibly resign herself to working an honest job?

Yet the young woman quietly filled a bowl with rice and began eating with earnest, almost reverent focus.

It was Helan’s newly cooked rice, kept warm in the electric cooker. Though the salted pork shreds were sparse—a cost-effective ingredient—the dish was filling and fragrant.

Her hollow taste buds awakened, filled, and a warm glow spread through her stomach.

Helan was right: as long as she could eat her fill and regain her strength, everything would gradually improve!

She went to the courtyard to retrieve the washed electric cooker, brought it inside, and disassembled it under the lightbulb. After replacing a section of the cord, her practiced hands swiftly repaired it in just a few minutes.

The red indicator light lit up, and the girl grinned with satisfaction.

The woman on the bed watched her busy figure with indifference as Zhu Yu brought in one broken appliance after another, repaired them, and lined them up in a row.

Soon, the room was filled with old appliances like mushrooms sprouting everywhere.

Her focused gaze, thoughtful expression, and the way she lifted her wrist exuded an inexplicable sense of calm and reassurance.

Bai Shuzhou found herself watching for a long time, her thick lashes fluttering gently before drooping with fatigue.

The girl stood by the bed, her face peeking through the gauze curtains. She whispered, “Are you asleep?”

Bai Shuzhou ignored her, but the girl remained standing there, like a loyal puppy guarding its bone. Even with her eyes closed, Bai Shuzhou could sense her persistent presence, her annoying aura filling the room.

Bai Shuzhou let out a cold, nasal grunt.

Zhu Yu quickly responded, asking in a low voice, “Can I use my Ability to heal you and give you a massage at the same time? Don’t worry, my Mental Power has recovered significantly. I’m sure I can help you recover faster.”

Though she phrased it as a question, her actions clearly crossed the line. She stood up, spread out the blanket, and gently placed her warm palm over it.

Bai Shuzhou lifted her pale blue eyes. “No one’s worried about you.”

Zhu Yu met her gaze earnestly. “But I’m worried about you.”

Through the thin fabric, warm light flowed beneath her palm, and a subtle electrical current penetrated Bai Shuzhou’s skin. She bit her lip, her clenched fist trembling silently.