A Disguised Scum Alpha Marked Her Aloof Ex-Wife - Chapter 16

The model-worker Zhu Yu took a half-day off.

After the lunch break, she appeared carrying a tray of lopsided little biscuits. The handmade cookies, which used to be meticulously exquisite, had become oddly shaped; the round kittens had all turned into long strips.

She puffed out her chest. “I made these!”

Xiao Shan remained expressionless. “I can tell.”

The girl’s voice was noticeably chirpy, unable to hide her inner thoughts; even the biscuits tasted sweeter than usual.

Yesterday she looked half-dead, and today her complexion wasn’t much better, but a flush of excitement floated over her somewhat pale face. She looked like a piece of soft, fluffy bread—freshly baked and steaming hot.

Her entire face screamed: Ask me! Quickly, ask me what happened!

Xiao Shan and Mao Mao tacitly took a few bites of the biscuits and talked about the weather, about energy sources, and about the fact that the Federation was recruiting embroiderers with heavy pay. In a place where technology was highly advanced, pure handiwork became very expensive; learning a craft was truly lucrative.

The two were rarely on the same wavelength. While they watched Zhu Yu scratching her head in an anxious frenzy, Mao Mao finally couldn’t hold back a laugh. She turned her face to Zhu Yu: “Xiao Yu, why are you so happy?”

The girl lowered her eyes. A thousand bubbles were pressing against her chest, but now she feigned composure, pulling a stiff face. She lowered her voice into a mature tone, like a world leader about to deliver a major address. Tapping her fingertip on the table, she coughed once:

“I can’t say.”

I’m raising a dragon, you know!

A very beautiful silver dragon!!!!

Xiao Shan, listening intently: [==]?

Indulging in a bit of mischief made Zhu Yu’s mood exceptionally pleasant. She felt she possessed a secret—a secret shared with Bai Shuzhou, quietly taking root and sprouting in her heart.

Although it was perfectly normal for people of the Empire to undergo beastification, and she had long known Bai Shuzhou was a dragon, when that trait actually manifested, Zhu Yu was suddenly struck by the realization: Ah, she’s a dragon.

Her tail wouldn’t retract, perhaps due to the leg injury.

Ahhh, a dragon!!!

The tail seemed a bit out of control; it would coil around her waist and wrists.

Ahhhhhhh, a dragon!!!!

Mao Mao stroked her chin, her tone certain: “You’re in love!”

Xiao Shan also glanced at her: “Won the lottery?”

The girl was intent on showing off yet stayed ambiguous, swaying and acting coy: “It’s all pretty much the same.”

“Actually, I’m quitting! Thanks for taking care of me during this time. If you have anything that needs fixing, you can find me at Gui Lane.”

She deliberately placed the news of the upcoming departure after the joy, using an avoidant, breezy tone to try and dilute the feeling of loneliness.

Youths raised in ivory towers aren’t good at handling partings; saying goodbye to friends feels like experiencing an entire autumn. Even if they are only short-term friends and it’s a short autumn—the cicadas haven’t even stopped chirping yet.

Zhu Yu said, “I’m quitting to go home and take care of my family. Working two jobs takes up too much time. The bar has a day shift too, and at night I…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Xiao Shan said.

Her reaction was flat, lacking the “parting sorrow” the fresh-to-society Zhu Yu had imagined. After all, the turnover rate on the assembly line was high; they didn’t even know each other’s full or real names.

Just a chance encounter.

Xiao Shan paused, then added: “Congratulations on being able to go home.”

Mao Mao still propped up her chin, smiling: “Yeah! You’re so good to your family. You must live in a very loving home.”

Before leaving, Zhu Yu looked back at the nearly pure-white nutrient factory. Those “large-portion-to-keep-you-full” nutrient solutions seemed to linger with a touch of sweetness in her memory.

Lying to you! The taste of industrial sweetener is actually gross!

Xiao Shan and Mao Mao waved at her as a goodbye. As they turned, Zhu Yu lunged forward and gave them a tight hug.

She loved this kind of full-hearted embrace; it was very warm, very real, like the moment you bite into a small biscuit.

“Goodbye! Goodbye!”

It wasn’t just polite talk; she sincerely hoped to meet them again. She had been pushed here by fate, her confusion and helplessness compressed in a hurry. Fortunately, there were chance-encounter friends who made this monotonous experience glow slightly.

Xiao Shan wanted to save money to go to the Imperial Capital; she was an excellent drummer and would one day shine on stage. Mao Mao had signed up for a training class to be an embroiderer in the Federation; she was also attending night school to learn to read—though currently, the “literary masterpiece” she gifted Zhu Yu was still just a doodle of a little fish.

Everyone was exploring a brand-new life.

Zhu Yu stepped on the shadows of the setting sun, step by step, feeling very grounded. Bai Shuzhou didn’t seem to hate her that much anymore. Mao Mao said that when felines perk up their tails, it means they’re happy; if the tail coils around you, it means they like you.

She didn’t know if that rule applied to the Dragon race.

Bai Shuzhou perked up her tail and… seemed to give her a little flick.

It didn’t hurt. It was very light.

Is she not full? She’s so thin; she can eat a bit more.

Although she already ate a lot, it was normal for a dragon! She was probably still a “child” by dragon standards? Twenty-something is exactly the age for a growth spurt!

A tiny tail, a tiny Bai Shuzhou.

She thought again of the girl in her dream last night—silver hair and blue eyes, cute beyond words, yet maintaining a stiff face and an air of compassionate indifference. She really wanted to pick her up and give her a squeeze.

Beyond the faint sadness of parting, Zhu Yu began to look forward to the new life. She suddenly felt an intense urge to see Bai Shuzhou, making the road home feel exceptionally long.

She’d quit the nutrient factory, and the Paradis night shift became a day shift. She could be home by evening; they’d have so much time to spend together!

Zhu Yu had learned new pressure points for massage, and her control over her ability had become more skillful. Now, Bai Shuzhou’s legs had regained some sensation; when Zhu Yu increased the intensity, they would uncontrollably tremble slightly.

Zhu Yu told her: “Don’t hold it in. If it’s uncomfortable, you can say so.”

But expressing herself seemed to be a shameful thing for Bai Shuzhou; she always grit her teeth and pretended to be unbothered.

No matter how gentle the healing ability was, it was formed from spiritual power and could penetrate directly. Once, Zhu Yu accidentally used too much power; after the massage, she found that Bai Shuzhou’s pajamas were soaked with thin sweat.

Mm, decided. Since the evening time has become abundant, I’ll extend the massage treatment! It’s no use if Bai Shuzhou refuses.

Why be polite? If she really insists on thanking me, I’ll just give a faint smile and put on the air of a hidden master: ‘No need for thanks, it was just a small effort.’

Just thinking about it made Zhu Yu laugh out loud.

She would heal her, making up for the mistakes the original owner made bit by bit. That way, Bai Shuzhou wouldn’t blacken and wouldn’t kill her.

Most importantly… guarding Bai Shuzhou while she slept!

This was a sacred mission.

Previously, she was mostly on the night shift and didn’t return until the early morning. Last night was the first time she’d encountered Bai Shuzhou being unwell, and she felt both distressed and guilty.

Falling into a nightmare is dangerous. If one gets lost in a dreamscape, they might never wake up again.

That’s what her sister said. When she had nightmares as a kid, her sister would flick her forehead to wake her up—a method so blunt it was almost like a threat to a child.

But she couldn’t bear the thought of Bai Shuzhou being alone in a nightmare, waking up only to face an empty darkness. That would be too lonely.

Zhu Yu picked some beautiful wild flowers along the way and watered them with stream water until every leaf sparkled. She also took a detour to the front district to buy a cake, planning an extra treat for tonight.

To celebrate quitting, to celebrate the new life, and to celebrate that she grew a tail!

Oh, to be precise, she “revealed” a tail?

Zhu Yu was completely unaware that Bai Shuzhou had been plagued by illness and unable to transform for years. The significance of this was far deeper than she imagined, yet she still felt it was momentous—like witnessing a puppy’s ears stand up for the first time, or a bird’s first flight.

One small step for her, one giant leap for humanity!

Though Bai Shuzhou didn’t say it, Zhu Yu felt her attitude had softened quite a bit. There was a subtle harmony; she was willing to personally order dishes and hadn’t kicked her out of bed.

Maybe it was because her tail liked her.

Thanks to the great tail!

“I’m home!”

Zhu Yu pushed the door open. Bai Shuzhou was reading, the sunset light reflecting on her silver hair, giving it a metallic luster that remained soft.

Those pale blue eyes lifted slightly, shimmering with light. She didn’t look directly at Zhu Yu but gave a casual, nonchalant glance out of the corner of her eye before her white finger slid to the next line.

Very aloof.

But Zhu Yu noticed that the edge of her skirt swayed ever so slightly—a hook, then a dip.

Like a child learning to write—one is a horizontal stroke, two is two strokes—Zhu Yu had learned “Tail Language” through association. A perked-up tail means “like,” coiling around means “like,” flicking someone or wagging the tip… it all just means “like.”

Cold face but wagging her tail—too cute!!

Zhu Yu went happily to cook, while those pale blue eyes quietly watched her busy silhouette.

When the girl secretly turned to look back at her, Bai Shuzhou would lower her head to her book, showing only her haughty forehead partially covered by stray hairs.

The tail flicked irritably.

She had no idea what Zhu Yu was so happy about all day.

It was strange.

Was it something pleasant at work?

Or… was there someone who made her happy?

Bai Shuzhou observed the girl’s every tiny movement. This girl didn’t even dare to kill a fish; she always used sweet talk to beg the boss or Helan to handle it before bringing it back. This time was no exception.

The moment she lit the stove was like going to war; she shrank back holding the pot lid, terrified the flames would leap up and bite her.

Bai Shuzhou’s gaze circled around and landed on the ring on Zhu Yu’s finger. After a moment, she looked away and slowly frowned.

Zhu Yu liked to ramble while cooking, her voice mixing with the sizzling sounds to create a cozy, domestic atmosphere. It was all trivial things, stirred into the dishes like fine grains of salt.

She often held these one-sided conversations, bustling yet lonely, not expecting an answer.

But Bai Shuzhou was listening.

Every sentence, every word—she could hear them clearly even without tracing them with her fingertips. The voice was crisp and earnest.

Even when Zhu Yu was just cutting a green pepper and the oil was crackling, she smiled in this quiet clamor. Lacking the other person’s speech was just right; it wasn’t too noisy.

Stove off, plated. A brief silence filled the room.

Bai Shuzhou parted her lips softly: “You quit. You’re a bit reluctant to leave your colleagues, Shan and Mao Mao.”

The woman’s beautiful voice was like a silver hook, pulling out the unspoken thoughts Zhu Yu hadn’t made clear. Zhu Yu’s ears turned red, and she sheepishly pinched her wrist.

“It’s not that I’m reluctant, it’s just the thought that we might never meet again makes me feel a bit… empty,” Zhu Yu pondered her phrasing. “They are both very good people.”

Those sky-like eyes watched Zhu Yu quietly until she finished.

“But didn’t you say the shift you quit was the night shift?”

“…”

Originally, the nutrient factory was the day shift, and the bar was the night shift.

Bai Shuzhou remembered every word Zhu Yu rambled, every colleague’s name.

To keep Bai Shuzhou from worrying, Zhu Yu had played a small word game, making her believe she had quit the job at the bar. She hadn’t expected Bai Shuzhou to be listening so intently that she would spot the loophole instantly.

“It was the night shift! The one I quit was indeed the night shift. From now on, I’ll be back every day at six o’clock. Mm, and I’ll have plenty of free time in the evenings!” That part was true.

“I’ve been a bit tired lately, so having the evenings free is perfect. The massage time can be extended, and then the repairs… mm, I can even look into modifying your wheelchair…” She tried to change the subject.

“Zhu Yu, look at me.” The woman’s cold voice interrupted her shifty gaze.

Vines coiled around the girl’s pulse, which was racing with panic. In truth, there was no need for the extra step; those dark eyes were darting around guiltily, completely unable to meet her gaze.

“Lying again.”

“Are you really that unwilling to leave?”

In the suddenly dropping, suffocating silence, a name was hidden.

The vines tightened bit by bit, leaving dark red marks that made Zhu Yu gasp in pain. Bai Shuzhou’s strength seemed to have increased significantly; now she couldn’t break free. The ring on her finger was still sparkling, an eerie shade of red.

Zhu Yu endured the pain and tried to explain: “It’s just that the bar’s wages are higher…”

Bai Shuzhou sneered: “Is Nan Gong’s pay higher?”

Every time Nan Gong came, Zhu Yu went to great lengths to pull her into the courtyard. Under the dim light, thick bundles of cash would be rolled in her palm. The girl would count them one by one with her back to the door, while Nan Gong watched her and smiled.

Her voice lowered, carrying an imperceptible flash of resentment. “Are you really that cheap?”

Zhu Yu’s pupils shrank. She had never been cursed like this by someone close to her. Biting her lip, the high spirits she’d had earlier were suddenly trampled underfoot. She was so happy today, and Bai Shuzhou was scolding her just because of Nan Gong?

The peaceful private territory between them suddenly cracked, and that annoying name forced its way in.

“I earned that with my own skills… okay?!”

“I just need money, I like money. As long as you give me money, I’ll do anything, alright?!”

She wasn’t popular like the sales champion Nan Gong, who spent lavishly; everyone liked Nan Gong.

Earning money is just hard! Without money, you can’t even eat your fill. Touching her empty pockets made her feel panic. Every time she was given a hard time at work, she would think: If only I were rich, I’d take out a wad of cash, throw it in those crazy people’s faces, and say ‘I quit’!

But if she actually were rich, she’d probably still be reluctant to spend it. That was money, after all.

Poverty is something even more terrifying than fear.

To Bai Shuzhou, these things might indeed be “cheap,” but they were everything she could strive for.

Watching those pale blue eyes sink into shadow, Zhu Yu worried she’d been too harsh, so she softened her tone, though the trailing end of her sentence was thick with grievance.

The woman was silent for a moment. She lowered her gaze, her lashes casting faint shadows that drifted in the air like dark clouds.

She turned her palm, pulling the girl closer. The vines attempted to force open that tightly clenched hand.

Zhu Yu was unwilling to let go, as if gripping her tiny, insignificant pride. But that slender, snow-white hand didn’t care; it forced her hand open. Countless shimmering jewels spilled from the fingertips, illuminating the dilapidated shack in an instant.

The jewels hit the back of her hand painfully, clattering onto the concrete floor. Zhu Yu didn’t have time to think; she instinctively reached out to catch them, but there were too many—more than she could hold—spilling over from her trembling palms.

Clack, clack.

The high-and-mighty Princess closed her eyes and asked coldly:

“Is it enough?”

“Remember your identity.”