A Disguised Scum Alpha Marked Her Aloof Ex-Wife - Chapter 29

Across that freezing, silver-white grand door.

Zhu Yu did not know if Bai Shuzhou could hear her, but she still introduced herself with utmost solemnity, hoping to secure a tiny bit more opportunity from the gap.

The Emperor had not issued a definitive directive; words like “do not let Zhu Yu near Bai Shuzhou” would never be spoken aloud by the Emperor, who merely ordered the Snow Leopard Knights to protect Bai Shuzhou well.

The flip side of protection was danger.

Yet the girl who had forced her way through all the obstacles now reined in her defiance, the rims of her eyes slightly red, her clear brows bearing not a shred of hostility as she hooked her arms around the desperately blocking Snow Leopard Knights and squeezed forward bit by bit, showing no intent to violently resist, but moving forward slowly and continuously like kneading dough.

The Snow Leopard Knights were all agile Alphas, selected as one in ten thousand, valiant and heroic, with immensely powerful tails.

Zhu Yu used her hands to secretly scratch the itchy spots on their tails.

It was highly despicable, but it worked rather well. Having been upright and magnificent all their lives, when had the Snow Leopard Knights ever seen such underhanded tactics, instinctively dodging aside a fraction.

Squeezing to the front of the door, Zhu Yu pressed her burning cheek against the door seam, her hot blood not yet receded, trying her best to let her voice flood inside along with the wind:

“If you have amnesia, then we can get to know each other all over again, how wonderful is that.”

“When heaven closes a door for you, we will just open it again; that is exactly what doors are used for.”

“As long as you open the door, you can see me—”

The Snow Leopard Knights finally reached the end of their patience; if they continued to slack off, this slippery little fish would probably swim right inside through the door seam, which truly crossed the line into being far too brazen.

One of them covered Zhu Yu’s mouth, putting on a stern face to threaten her: “Stop shouting, the Princess cannot hear you. If you keep making a scene, it will only disrupt public order.”

At the corner, a researcher who caught a casual, sweeping glance from a Snow Leopard Knight hastily pulled their head back.

The Academy of Sciences rarely experienced such a lively moment; it was hard not to notice it.

The reporters who swarmed in after Zhu Yu had already blocked the outside completely, and the guards who rushed over to reinforce them dazed for a split second, thinking at first glance that the Federation had launched an attack.

Zhu Yu blinked, measuring the thickness of the wall; the soundproofing indeed seemed exceptionally good, and her fiercely burning confidence wilted just a tiny bit.

But since no one laid hands on her, let alone lethal hands, did it mean the higher-ups also tacitly permitted it? This caused Zhu Yu’s cautious, small thoughts to sway once more.

In for a penny, in for a pound; how would she know without trying…

She was very adept at observing facial expressions and had gradually learned to push her boundaries; upon realizing that Bai Shuzhou truly seemed unable to hear her, she simply switched her persona.

When the Snow Leopard Knights tried to pull her away, she clutched the doorknob fiercely, using a rogue persona with the magnetic voice she had initially poised:

“I am not leaving; kill me if you have the guts.”

“Even if I die, I will guard my wife right here!”

She deliberately emphasized “my wife” very heavily, both leveraging this identity so others wouldn’t dare rashly lay a hand on her, and bearing a bit of blustering smugness, proclaiming it to the world once more.

The Snow Leopard Knights: …

Didn’t you promise not to make things difficult for us!

For Zhu Yu to charge over at the absolute peak of public scrutiny made her a walking time bomb in her own right.

Let alone killing her—if she so much as tripped here, getting a few extra scrapes on her face before walking out, the public would probably suspect that the Royal family or the Academy of Sciences was using lynching, wondering if they wanted to hide some earth-shattering secret.

The Snow Leopard Knights nervously tugged at Zhu Yu, deeply terrified that she might suddenly throw a punch at her own face, which would leave them entirely unable to clear their names!

Upon the hospital bed, the woman blinked her eyes ever so slightly.

Although she could not see the situation outside, her hearing was exceptionally acute, vaguely mapping out the image of ‘Zhu Yu’ within her mind.

Initially, it was a soft bun, served piping hot, filled with rose bean paste, possessing a slightly raspy, highly magnetic voice.

A single squeeze would make it soft, sinking inward a bit.

But this image did not last very long before this bun dropped flat onto the floor with a splat, her voice altering entirely—”kill me if you have the guts.”

Resembling a rogue and a thug, yet bizarrelly remaining soft and sticky, bearing not much threat.

Eccentric and novel.

The attitude of the Snow Leopard Knights, her ability to arrive here, and her body seemingly still bearing faint traces of her own pheromones…

Bai Shuzhou slowly knit her brows, revealing a trace of perplexity and suspicion.

She seemed to have heard this voice before, but the content was very strange; her nerves throbbed with pain, and she barely managed to recall a shred, shouting… Mommy?

Her freezing vertical pupils caught in a daze; this was far too bizarre.

Furthermore, a faint, subtle displeasure rose inexplicably within her heart; this phrase likely wasn’t directed at her either.

The order within the palace was strictly structured, with everyone manipulating political power within a framework; Bai Shuzhou had never seen this type of person before.

Even their mother, even after having two children, had never addressed each other so intimately and loudly as wife or spouse.

She pursed her lips slightly, silently delivering a definition within her heart.

The enforcement guards of the Academy of Sciences hurried over slowly, and before the Snow Leopard Knights could brighten their eyes, they discovered that these bastards had actually come to manage the dispute with bias.

On the surface, they praised and blamed both sides equally, but in reality, it was akin to: “Why do you nobles hold a grudge against her, a commoner? Forget it, forget it, we are all citizens of the same nation.”

Within this, there was naturally the handiwork of Feng Jiyan.

Under Zhu Yu’s persistence and coordination from multiple factions, the Academy of Sciences barely agreed that Zhu Yu could come visit for ten minutes each night to jointly monitor the Academy’s treatment progress.

It went unexpectedly smoothly.

Zhu Yu had originally prepared for a worse outcome, not expecting this treacherous courtier of a fox to truly be getting things done; she truly was… my wife’s future capable vanguard.

She felt a modicum of shame regarding her previous narrow-minded speculations.

However, this shame was quickly replaced by rage.

When she mentioned human experimentation before the reporters initially, Zhu Yu had hoped to leverage the power of the public to monitor them, at least keeping Feng Jiyan from acting recklessly.

Yet Feng Jiyan actually had the nerve to semi-openly display the experiments, even bringing the ‘stranded outside’ white bird and Phoenix back to the Academy of Sciences with a massive fanfare.

For birds suffering from severe genetic diseases that were supposed to have died early to grow robustly to this day was naturally a scientific miracle.

The auction night was far too chaotic, and the escaping Phoenix and little birds were rescued by the Federation, later interfacing with the Empire and being sent back after a certain agreement was reached.

Human experimentation violated human ethics and had been strictly forbidden many years ago; the existence of the Phoenix was equivalent to a piece of leverage.

After the cunning fox was countered by Zhu Yu, the wood was already turned into a boat, so she proceeded to build a new wave of public opinion at the fastest speed, striving to make people believe they truly were fighting to conquer genetic diseases.

To a certain extent, abilities truly were a form of genetic disease as well, which only an absolute minority of people would ever awaken.

The ten minutes of visiting time each night was far too brief, and it wasn’t a solo interaction either; by the time Zhu Yu was finally permitted passage with difficulty, the Princess had already fallen asleep.

Looking at her pale sleeping face, Zhu Yu could not bear to disturb her either.

But she had only six days; if Bai Shuzhou did not recover her memories during this period and was unwilling to continue being with her, then her end seemed bound to be terrible.

Bai Qianze did not set up any further interference, contemptuously seeming certain that Zhu Yu would not succeed.

At this stage, Bai Shuzhou was sensitive and wary, trusting only Bai Qianze; even Iselia—her childhood sweetheart—did not possess too many privileges.

The next day, when Zhu Yu entered, Bai Shuzhou was still sleeping.

Zhu Yu watched longingly for ten minutes, wanting to say something yet worrying about waking her up, so she could only cover her mouth and mumble, counting her curled eyelashes.

Currently, Feng Jiyan still highly wished for Zhu Yu to remain; she was a quite useful pawn, with the benefits temporarily outweighing the disadvantages.

She possessed a very sharp intuition that perhaps only Zhu Yu could drive a wedge between Bai Shuzhou and Bai Qianze’s relationship.

Yet during these two crucial life-and-death days, Zhu Yu actually made zero progress, wasting precious opportunities solely to watch Bai Shuzhou sleep, making Feng Jiyan’s teeth itch with rage.

“How on earth did the Princess ever take a fancy to you back then?” Feng Jiyan sneered, exasperated by her failure to meet expectations.

The tips of Zhu Yu’s ears flushed red: “Actually, I want to know too.”

Feng Jiyan: “…No one is praising you.”

If it really didn’t work, Feng Jiyan still had a professional team, but the moment Zhu Yu heard those methods that leaned far too heavily on extreme measures, she waved her hands repeatedly in sheer terror.

If she truly did as Feng Jiyan suggested, there would be only two outcomes: either getting disposed of by Bai Qianze, or walking down the original host’s old path—comprehensively speaking, there was actually only a dead end.

Ha, ha, Zhu Yu even slightly suspected whether the original host’s self-destruction had also received fuel added by Feng Jiyan behind the scenes.

This fox truly was too terrifying!

Each night after Zhu Yu departed and the lights were extinguished, the woman who was supposed to be sound asleep would always lift her brows gently.

Zhu Yu discovered it, but she didn’t say so.

She merely said softly right before she was about to leave: “You are so cute.”

Those long eyelashes quirked up by a minuscule margin, her breathing pausing for two seconds.

Zhu Yu had counted them many times, so she would absolutely never make a mistake.

Bai Shuzhou did not seem to want others to know she was faking sleep; she was very adept at disguise, and extremely protective of her privacy and boundaries.

That day when Zhu Yu stood in the corridor, she had also deeply reflected upon herself; her rashly flipping open her blanket that day was indeed not right. Bai Shuzhou was so proud and did not want her wounds to be seen, so she should also respect her choices.

After losing her memories, Bai Shuzhou became even more disinclined to speak, always appearing weighed down by heavy thoughts, treating everyone with coldness and detachment.

Lacking a few fractions of aloofness, adding a few fractions of sharp edges.

Feng Jiyan said it was due to the medication, but Zhu Yu could tell that she could not feel safe here, so at the slightest sign of movement, she would alertly display her aggression. She was merely protecting herself.

Bai Shuzhou trusted only Bai Qianze, and would only smile toward Bai Qianze.

With Feng Jiyan’s covert assistance, Zhu Yu racked her brain trying to draw close, but even if they passed each other face-to-face and Zhu Yu bent her waist to greet Bai Shuzhou, she would pass by without looking askance, as if she had completely failed to see her at all.

Feng Jiyan could only keep one eye open and close the other, then close the other eye too until both eyes were about to fall into eternal sleep, tacitly permitting Zhu Yu to be a bit bolder during the times when Bai Qianze was absent.

During the day Bai Shuzhou had to undergo treatment; Zhu Yu felt pained by her wasting away day by day, specially borrowing the researcher’s small kitchen to prepare many dishes she loved to eat, stuffing them piping hot into an insulated food container.

Coinciding with information from enthusiastic members of the public, during lunch time on this day, Bai Shuzhou would rarely dine outside.

To wait for the soup to finish simmering, Zhu Yu arrived a bit late, specially hiding some small candies beneath the food tiers.

But from afar, she saw another familiar silhouette actually sitting across from Bai Shuzhou.

The white bird was there too!

The magnificent square table was laden with delicacies from land and sea. Holding the heavy food container, Zhu Yu suddenly felt that what she had prepared appeared a bit crude, and also a bit scarce—not enough to be shared.

Just as she was hesitating whether to still step forward, she saw Bai Shuzhou flash a shallow smile, personally using the serving chopsticks to place some food for the white bird.

…Ah.

This was the first time Zhu Yu had seen her release signals of proximity toward someone other than Bai Qianze since Shuzhou lost her memories.

To be more precise, it wasn’t just after her amnesia.

Even before back in the rented house, Bai Shuzhou had never placed food for her.

Bai Shuzhou had a bit of a cleanliness fixation and a very strong sense of territory; if a dish was frequently touched by others, she might stop eating it entirely.

Therefore, each time Zhu Yu would prepare her portion separately.

Did Bai Shuzhou and the white bird know each other?

Zhu Yu felt she should step forward to greet them, pat the white bird, and ask how she had been recently? What happened afterward that night? Did Feng Jiyan bully you?

They could be considered sisters who shared a tribulation, surviving a great disaster, which was exceptionally hard-won.

But her nose turned sour; the cooling unit of the Academy of Sciences seemed to target her specifically, almost giving her nose a cold from blowing, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

She lifted her head to look at the rare treasures they were eating, then lowered her head to look at her own stainless steel food container, suddenly feeling that it was exceptionally unpresentable.

Dragons liked magnificent, glittering things, but she didn’t have any.

The white bird, just like Bai Shuzhou, possessed beautiful white hair, looking very well-behaved, and was also an ability-user who could even spit small fireballs.

For Bai Shuzhou to like her seemed… quite normal too.

Forget it, she would figure out a way after eating; it wasn’t good to let it go to waste either. The girl’s glittering eyes dimmed down.

Zhu Yu found a spot neither too close nor too far outside, opened the food container, and decided to eat it herself.

A passing researcher glanced over, “Oh, Your Highness Zhu Yu, did you make this yourself?”

The portion prepared was meant for Bai Shuzhou, and spreading it out could fill a massive table; Zhu Yu couldn’t finish it alone, so she invited the researcher to sit down and eat together, and in twos and threes a small table was quickly assembled.

Zhu Yu felt these researchers were quite like stray cats; in the office every single one was an arrogant genius, but after coming out to forage for food they became much tamer—once one was invited, a whole group would appear, spreading out in a radiating pattern.

The crowd grew larger, nearly enveloping Zhu Yu, praises ringing out without end, leaving her a bit flustered and dazed.

Zhu Yu did not know that the majority of researchers were similarly born as commoners, looking at her with a gaze akin to “this is the most successful university student from our village.”

Although everyone couldn’t drop their identities as geniuses to actively initiate conversation with her, once a gap appeared, the researchers who approached one after another would discover that this Star of the Commoners—who was exceptionally approachable on the big screens—truly put on no airs whatsoever, and furthermore, her cooking tasted quite good.

Having cooked by hand for a long time, and with the ingredients on the Imperial Star being very expensive, Zhu Yu was a bit loath to part with it, but since they all took her as Bai Shuzhou’s family member by default, calling her Highness with every breath and praising her to high heaven, if she refused, it would make her look very stingy.

Zhu Yu did not want to be a stingy person, so she buried her head to eat heartily as if taking revenge, quickly filling her stomach. She simply set down her bowls and chopsticks, watching the researchers divide the dishes with a benevolent gaze.

—At least it wasn’t wasted, showing her culinary skills were still decent.

This was the first time Zhu Yu had been surrounded and praised like this, feeling a bit lightheaded and losing herself.

If Bai Shuzhou didn’t like her, after escaping for her life in the future, apart from being a maintenance technician, she could perhaps also work part-time as a chef.

Engaged in depressed, wild thoughts, she suddenly perceived a freezing gaze resting upon her body. Lifting her head to scan the surroundings, there was nothing.

As a top warrior and the Star of the Commoners who was surrounded like stars cupping the moon, Zhu Yu pretended to methodically ladle two bowls of soup for the people beside her.

Subsequently, she snapped her head back suddenly, catching the Snow Leopard Knight who was wandering nearby and stealing glances.

A group of researchers lifted their heads in unison along with Zhu Yu’s sudden snap, staring in lockstep at the Snow Leopard Knight. Zhu Yu’s movement was too massive, looking almost like some signal for an uprising.

Acting stealthily—this was entirely not the style a noble ought to possess.

“Ahem.” The Snow Leopard Knight who was standing on tiptoe froze, clearing her throat with a bit of embarrassment after being discovered, and waved her hand elegantly, “I merely ask you on behalf of myself personally: does it taste good?”

Merely representing myself personally. This phrasing was particularly suspicious, looking very much like burying one’s head in the sand.

Taste good?

Want to eat?

Eat!

Zhu Yu understood perfectly, immediately twisting her head to look at Bai Shuzhou, discovering Her Highness the Princess was currently resting her chin gently on one hand, casually tossing a glance over, looking very much like it was an accident and she had just turned around.

Freezing, devoid of any emotion.

Yet it caused Zhu Yu to straighten her spine inexplicably, standing up instinctively, her broken wooden chopsticks still clutched within her hand.