A Disguised Scum Alpha Marked Her Aloof Ex-Wife - Chapter 19

When the first light of dawn filtered into the small shack, Zhu Yu caught the faint scent of roses. Her nose twitched, but she didn’t wake up immediately.

Perhaps this was the last time they would be alone together.

She cherished this time deeply; she constantly wanted to say something, yet didn’t know how to open her mouth. So, while Bai Shuzhou was asleep, she spent a long time gently treating her.

“I’m sorry, I still couldn’t fix your legs.”

Finally withdrawing her hand, the warm light dissipated bit by bit from her palm. It felt as though the distance between them was also constantly growing.

Zhu Yu didn’t know that Bai Shuzhou had been awake the entire time; she wasn’t the only one finding sleep elusive.

These senseless sighs landed on the tip of Bai Shuzhou’s heart, becoming very heavy.

Zhu Yu was a mixed-blood of two nations, an identity of special status. Especially during these years where relations between the two countries were at a stalemate, she had always occupied a very subtle position.

On this backward planet, people were so busy making a living that boundaries had become blurred, but the oriole’s encounter had quickly shattered the dream of peaceful coexistence.

The star pirates possessed weapons from the Federal military, and Nan Gong had redeemed those people… Bai Shuzhou was accustomed to listing factual cases one by one. All clues wound around Zhu Yu, ending finally with a question mark.

Who exactly was she, and what did she want to do? Bai Shuzhou knew nothing.

It just so happened that the time Zhu Yu chose to send her away was skillfully timed just before the arrival of the Guard.

Was it truly just a coincidence?

She loathed this feeling of being passive, and loathed being deceived even more.

When Zhu Yu reluctantly opened her eyes, she looked up and met Bai Shuzhou’s icy gaze.

She didn’t know how long the woman had been watching her. There were faint dark circles under her eyes, her face was expressionless, and the air pressure around her was extremely low.

“What’s wrong? You’re going home—are you not happy?” Zhu Yu nervously fiddled with her fingers.

Bai Shuzhou said nothing.

“Are you hungry?” Zhu Yu asked again.

Bai Shuzhou watched as she skillfully held out both hands like an idiot, offering a choice: “Yes, no.”

Bai Shuzhou had already learned that this was a way humans communicated with small animals. Her gaze grew a few degrees colder, staring straight into Zhu Yu’s eyes without the slightest deviation.

She was a Dragon!

Communication refused? But why? Zhu Yu racked her brain, then suddenly smacked her forehead. She scrambled up quickly and brought out a dress from her packed luggage.

How could she let a dignified Princess go back wearing someone else’s old clothes!

This was the gift she had prepared for her, though calling it a “gift” was a bit too solemn—it wasn’t worth hundreds of thousands, nor was it unique enough.

Back when she had first saved a bit of money, she had gone to the “Underground City” recommended by Mao Mao and waved her hand grandly: “Bring me the most expensive one you have!” Then the boss had pulled a few items down from the wall for her to choose from.

V-neck, gradient white, with an irregular cinch at the waist. It was said to be more suitable for Imperials with tails—more comfortable to wear.

“Let me help you change, okay?” Zhu Yu approached cautiously, her voice softening into a submissive tone she didn’t even realize was acting spoiled. “You’ll definitely look beautiful in it… I mean, you look beautiful in everything!”

“Yes, no.”

Before her two hands could fully extend, for the first time, Bai Shuzhou gripped her hand.

—Yes.

She held on extremely tight, as if letting go even slightly would mean losing something. Zhu Yu let out a soft hiss of pain.

Realizing her loss of composure, the woman quickly let go and fixed her gaze elsewhere. She remained expressionless, as if that tight touch just now had been nothing but a dream.

When she was in a bad mood, she didn’t like to talk. Her lips were pressed tight, and her whole being seemed shrouded in a layer of mist—like a glass bottle glowing cold white, refusing to let anyone see inside.

For a moment, Zhu Yu really wanted to take her hand back and wipe away that layer of distant white mist.

But Bai Shuzhou had withdrawn too fast, and she herself was too slow. A void the length of two breaths crowded between them; to move now would look very intentional, very offensive.

And since they were about to separate, Zhu Yu didn’t dare think too much further.

She withdrew her hand awkwardly. Keeping her head down and her eyes fixed forward, she helped Bai Shuzhou change. Afterward, she pushed the snacks given by the oriole’s family toward her and reported the itinerary once more like a mantra.

“I’m heading out. I’ll be back very soon. We’re going to Harbor No. 7 at ten o’clock—”

As the door lock clicked shut, the silent woman lowered her eyes. She looked at the hand that had just gripped Zhu Yu’s; her pinky twitched unconsciously. A moment later, she slowly clenched it into a fist.

Zhu Yu stuffed a letter for Helan’s shop—containing some money—then ran to the nutrient factory to find Mao Mao, warning her not to go to that suspicious training class.

She had spent the whole trip thinking of how to offer more forceful advice, but Mao Mao didn’t ask much. Though she was a bit regretful and downcast, she quickly comforted herself.

“I guess there really aren’t such good things in the world.”

“The moment you get greedy, you get tricked.”

Mao Mao muttered, patting Zhu Yu: “Don’t worry, I’ll spread the news and make sure everyone is careful!”

Zhu Yu scanned the area. “Did Xiao Shan not come?” Xiao Shan was steady and more reassuring; though she often had a sharp tongue, she cared for her colleagues deeply.

Mao Mao tilted her face up: “She took leave to go to a band audition.”

“…”

After saying this, the two looked at each other, both feeling a sudden ill omen.

“Well, don’t worry too much. Xiao Shan is so smart; she’s the person least likely to be tricked!”

Zhu Yu nodded with great difficulty. Tonight was the auction the oriole had mentioned, but even if Xiao Shan had been taken, what could she do? She could barely protect herself.

If only I were a bit braver.

If only I were a bit stronger.

Mao Mao waved behind her: “Goodbye! You stay safe too!”

Zhu Yu waved back, not turning around this time.

For the first time, she noticed that when running through the winding old streets, the flowers along the roadside blurred into a straight line. In this barren, backward place, people had planted clusters of flowers all along the way.

Inside the shack.

The woman in the white dress leaned against the table, attempting to stand up with extreme slowness. She stumbled; the wooden table creaked and shook, and the glass vase fell, shattering into pieces.

After a moment of silence, a vine gently coiled around it and placed it back on the table.

She looked down. Her hem had been splashed and dampened by the water; the cleaner the color, the easier it was to soil.

Bai Shuzhou frowned, her fingertips pinching until they were white. Vines grew wildly, gripping the tabletop tightly, forcing her to stand.

No matter what, she would never allow herself to lose the initiative.

As long as she left this room and hid until the Guard arrived, she would be safe. That shouldn’t take too long.

When that time came, she would have plenty of time to interrogate every confusion and suspicion one by one.

On the small path, Zhu Yu was still sprinting.

She twisted and turned through the old streets, forcing the long journey down to half the time.

Her thoughts rambled all the way, shifting from star pirates to battleships. She used all sorts of messy things to fill her empty heart so she wouldn’t fantasize about things she shouldn’t.

But her thoughts skipped, and she wondered: if she disappeared and didn’t show up to sign the divorce confirmation, would those never-before-met love rivals be eager to file a death certificate for her?

“Widowed” sounded a bit better than “divorced.”

Then she wouldn’t be Bai Shuzhou’s ex-wife in name, but her late wife!

Zhu Yu took a deep breath, almost wanting to laugh at the thought.

So pathetic, Zhu Yu! And very despicable.

That kind of “loser’s smile” definitely couldn’t be seen by Bai Shuzhou. She patted her face and smiled at the sun, ensuring she looked “fluffy” from the warmth before pushing the door open.

Perhaps this was the most successful version of her trademark smile—carrying a bit of nervousness, a bit of joy, and a bit of anticipation. Her clear eyes shimmered with the afterglow of the sunlight.

“I’m home!”

The door swung open, and the smile froze on her face.

The woman was leaning against the none-too-clean wall, having fallen to the floor. Her pale blue eyes were filled with nothing but wariness.

There was only shock; there was no joy.

Zhu Yu had returned too quickly, far beyond Bai Shuzhou’s expectations.

The wheelchair sat lonely and tilted in the corner, with the broken glass vase not far away.

Zhu Yu rushed forward to help her up, checking her carefully. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“Did you want to get something? Why didn’t you wait for me to come back? I would have helped you.”

Despite looking forward to it, while helping her change earlier, Zhu Yu hadn’t dared to look Bai Shuzhou in the eye. She would steal a glance at the hem, then at the sleeves.

Now, she finally saw the full picture of her wearing the white dress; it was more beautiful than she had imagined.

Though it was already dirty. And as she approached, the woman instinctively leaned back, as if their relationship had reverted to the beginning, when she was hiding in the cabinet covered in scars.

It was a very tiny flinch, and Bai Shuzhou suppressed it quickly. But that instinctive reaction was like a dense bed of needles, spreading out across the tiny space. Zhu Yu approached step by step, treading on them with bare feet.

She paused, but quickly found her smile again, her tone light:

“I’m sorry. I came back late.”

Bai Shuzhou frowned. When Zhu Yu was thinking, her eyes would flicker. She lowered them intentionally, and after some unknown conclusion, she draped the blanket over the woman’s legs again. Slowly, she rested her hands on the knees, and a warm glow rippled through them.

Suspicion is a very sharp emotion, and Zhu Yu happened to be able to read it. Her mouth opened and closed, but in the end, she asked nothing. She didn’t want to hear it from Bai Shuzhou’s own mouth, so she just buried her head in the treatment.

Perhaps this was the only thing she could offer that was useful to her.

She had promised her; she would fix her legs. There was still a debt between them, but no time left to repay it.

The look Bai Shuzhou had given her just now kept replaying in her mind—the look one gives a thief, cold and stranger-like. They had held hands this morning; why, why was it suddenly like this?

Or was it just wishful thinking on her part all along? Was Bai Shuzhou actually living in fear this entire time? After all, “she” had once done such terrible things to her.

She didn’t trust her. Zhu Yu completely understood.

Bai Shuzhou was silent for a moment. Her tail flicked irritably, and she asked coldly: “Zhu Yu, why are you crying?”

The girl kept her head down, answering with a thick, nasal voice: “I’m not crying!”

She had originally wanted to leave behind a cool memory—to wave her hand dashingly, pretending not to care, pretending to be at ease, and saying goodbye loudly so the wind would blur her voice.

Then she would become very blurred in Bai Shuzhou’s memory, too.

Slowly replaced, then vanished.

Like a dream; one always wakes up eventually.

Well, for Bai Shuzhou, it was probably a nightmare!

The dignified Imperial Princess, kidnapped and taken to a trash planet by a crazy ex-wife, forced to swallow her pride for safety, enduring pain to try and escape, stumbling and falling, secretly vowing to make her pay in blood later… or something like that.

“…”

Bai Shuzhou watched as the girl cried harder and harder. The long-accumulated grievances finally exploded. Her hair hung down along with her head—like her tail—swaying and drooping gloomily.

A vine handed over a handkerchief. A cold voice said: “Stop crying.”

It didn’t work.

How could a “Little Fish” have so many tears?

She was practically crying a lake of sorrow.

Is she acting, or did I wrong her?

The vines pulled her over, offering a forced comfort. Bai Shuzhou suppressed the strange irritability in her heart and pressed the handkerchief to the girl’s teary eyes, softening her tone in compromise: “Don’t cry.”

Through the handkerchief, her fingers were soon soaked with wet tears.

She noticed the “Little Fish” blink extremely slowly; that subtle rhythm made her heart lose its balance for some reason, starting to tip toward a certain side.

Fragrance rushed toward her from the woman’s wrist.

With her eyes covered, her other senses became more active.

Zhu Yu bit her lip, letting that hand gently wipe away her tears through the handkerchief. It was as if the gap that had just formed was being plugged; they were close once again.

She is… coaxing me…?

She didn’t dare blink, afraid to disturb the dream.

Zhu Yu wiped her own face, desperately wanting to control her appearance. Even if she couldn’t achieve a look of “beauty in distress,” she at least didn’t want to be a big snot-nosed mess.

But she couldn’t control it.

The gentler Bai Shuzhou was, the more she wanted to cry.

Why did you look at me with that look? Are you that desperate to escape? Was that “we” not an invitation, but a probe?

But I haven’t blocked your happiness. I’ve been very obedient. I won’t be clingy.

Just as a shaky breath was about to escape her throat, a grape was suddenly stuffed into her mouth.

The plump, round grape was pushed into her oral cavity, resting against her soft tongue. The woman’s white, slender knuckles brushed across her lips almost imperceptibly. The noise stopped.

Zhu Yu froze, staring with wet, dark eyes. Bai Shuzhou strongly suspected one of her parents had been a therapy dog—the none-too-bright, crybaby kind.

A therapy dog, yet in need of therapy.

How could there be an Alpha who cried this much?

How could there be a Zhu Yu like this?

Her teeth bit into the grape, and the sweet juice burst out. It was very sweet; Zhu Yu felt as though it even carried the scent of roses.

The tips of her ears quietly turned red.

Bai Shuzhou watched her silently, then suddenly spoke: “I poisoned it.”

Zhu Yu: “Ah.”

The soft, warm sensation still lingered on her lips and teeth; the sweet juice had just slid down her throat.

Watching the girl’s dazed and helpless expression, Bai Shuzhou felt a small, wicked surge of pleasure. Her tone remained calm:

“If you betray me, your insides will rot—”

Her icy fingertip touched the girl’s chest and slid downward, speaking terrifying words with indifference: “Your organs will corrode, your skin will fester, and you will die while fully conscious.”

Zhu Yu’s expression went blank.

After a brief stall, she doubled over, clutching her throat and coughing frantically, trying to spit out the sweet poison from just now.

But the fruit had long been greedily swallowed. A sweet taste still lingered in her mouth—and on her lips, the lips that had been gently touched by those hands…

Is she truly destined to be killed by her?

Seeing Zhu Yu react so strongly, the tiny arc at the corner of Bai Shuzhou’s lips vanished completely.

Vines bound the girl tightly. Bai Shuzhou looked down at her, asking in a low, pressing voice:

“Now, is there anything you want to say to me?”

Facing certain death, there was so much Zhu Yu wanted to say, but after a million thoughts, only one sentence remained.

“I… I like you…!”

I like you.

I like you!

The echo faded.

Both fell into silence. A deathly silence.

This was not a time for a confession; it sounded more like a plea for mercy before death. Realizing this, Zhu Yu wanted to slap herself twice, but her limbs were bound by vines. She was currently leaning in the woman’s arms like a baby. It was so shameful; she had nowhere to hide.

She was forced to look her in the eye.

Her heart burned with pain; she felt as if she were about to suffocate. But through the haze, from this angle, Bai Shuzhou looked even more beautiful. Her long silver hair was like a spring breeze, swaying gently, and her pale blue eyes were shrouded in shadow.

“I’m sorry!!!” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, but the atmosphere was too oppressive; she couldn’t help but want to say something.

“I was joking!”

Zhu Yu timidly tried to backtrack, but Bai Shuzhou spoke first. Her thin lips curled into a shallow arc; she seemed to be in a slightly better mood. Her cool voice was light and crisp, curving like a little tail:

“The poisoning was just a joke.”

The woman leaned down. Silver hair slid across Zhu Yu’s neck and collarbone. It was too close—

Her cool fingertips gripped Zhu Yu’s chin, but her breath was hot, brushing against her ear. The fragrance surged, rubbing against her heart along with the hair, making her soul tremble with sweetness. Zhu Yu forgot every word she had.

Truth or lies—they melted away at this proximity, turning into beads of sweat and her words of love, dripping coldly into the hollow of Zhu Yu’s neck and sliding down:

“If such a day ever truly comes, I will kill you… with my own hands.”