A Disguised Scum Alpha Marked Her Aloof Ex-Wife - Chapter 8

The curtains were drawn, letting the sunlight stream in.

Amidst the hazy warmth of the food, even the dusty shack seemed to soften.

Helan set down the bowl and chopsticks. “Eat while it’s hot, don’t be polite. If it’s not enough, have Xiao Ming get you another serving. The noodles are free to refill—eat until you’re full.”

The woman on the bed opened her eyes. Even though Helan had seen countless people in her life, she couldn’t help but freeze for a moment when those pale blue eyes lifted.

Aloof, cold, and noble—yet not at all off-putting.

She had eyes like the sky.

“Thank you for saving me.” Bai Shuzhou inclined her head toward her, her voice light yet crisp, carrying a rare weight of solemnity.

The world seemed to go quiet for a second.

Helan felt a twinge of regret that she hadn’t given her more beef just now.

How could there be such a clean and beautiful child? Like an art piece fired from glass, she leaned quietly against the soft pillow.

In the interval while Zhu Yu had run out to buy the noodles, Bai Shuzhou had already changed her clothes. It was a dress from Helan’s youth, which had been carefully folded and placed by the pillow.

Zhu Yu hadn’t dared to help her change without permission. She had specifically picked a very loose set, almost like a pajama style, so Bai Shuzhou could easily put it on by herself—she wasn’t the type to enjoy accepting help.

Framed by the oversized dress, her delicate bone structure became even more apparent. Helan inappropriately thought of a wind chime, feeling as though the girl swayed in the breeze and that her voice would have a clear, ringing echo.

He Ming, leaning on the table, let out a tiny “Whoa.” Before Helan could speak, she giggled and pushed a carton of milk from her own small bag toward Bai Shuzhou. “Hehe, it was nothing! No thanks needed! Sister Xiao Zhou, drink this. Get well soon!”

“No need,” Bai Shuzhou spoke coldly, but before the “Little Megaphone’s” spirit could droop in disappointment, she added: “Thank you.”

He Ming was the type to glow at the slightest bit of sunshine; her face lit up instantly.

Helan couldn’t watch anymore and sent her out to play with Zhu Yu.

The girl was sitting in the outer courtyard on a small stool. At a glance, she looked like she was crouching; her slender back looked slightly lonely.

Bai Shuzhou frowned the moment she saw her. Zhu Yu felt that having a “bully” fluttering around in front of one’s eyes every day would indeed be quite nauseating. She was very self-aware of her status as a “Scumbag 2.0.”

When the “Little Sister” opened the door, Zhu Yu instinctively looked back and met Bai Shuzhou’s gaze. The woman naturally saw the bun she was holding—the one that had fallen on the ground earlier.

Bai Shuzhou could already imagine her pathetically picking up the dirty bun, pretending to chew casually when outsiders asked, and grandly ordering only one bowl of beef noodles—a frantic performance, a face full of self-sacrifice.

Zhu Yu was always like this.

She was an expert at positioning herself as the underdog, a piece of bait in a chess match to make the “stupid fish” bite. Regardless of the context or the truth, people would just think, Oh, she’s so pitiful.

The “Star of the Commoners” was always accommodating the “Noble Princess”—people always relished gossiping about massive class disparities.

Seeing Bai Shuzhou’s expression grow colder and colder, the oblivious Zhu Yu panicked and stuffed the bun into her mouth, swallowing it down.

Crap. She saw me eating something off the floor. She won’t think I’m unhygienic, will she?

But she wasn’t stupid; she’d rinsed the dirty side with water or torn off the outer skin. The dough inside was clean and innocent.

Even if it tasted a bit bad.

Back in her old school cafeteria, she’d had no choice. Compared to that swill, Zhu Yu felt the biggest flaw of this bun was the lack of meat. Selling a small steamed bun as a “meat bun” was a capital crime!

Bai Shuzhou quickly looked away and picked up her chopsticks to eat the noodles.

She ate quickly yet remained elegant. No broth splashed, and she made no sound. Helan really wanted to drag the “funnel” outside—who was currently wiggling her butt and asking Zhu Yu, “Sister, what are you eating? Is it good?”—inside to learn a thing or two.

Genetic lottery… how can the gap be this huge!

But then again, Zhu Yu didn’t look like some world-shaking beauty either. Producing such a “Grand Prize” like the girl on the bed was a rare occurrence indeed. Helan let the thought go.

“It hasn’t been easy for you sisters,” Helan sighed.

Bai Shuzhou’s hand, holding the noodles, stopped.

Helan sensed the slightly stiff atmosphere and smiled. “What, did you two have a spat?”

She glanced unobtrusively at Bai Shuzhou’s legs. The girl had just woken up and couldn’t walk for the time being. As a dancer, she likely found this reality hard to accept. It was normal for her spirits to be low.

Helan tried to offer comfort as naturally as possible: “Life is long. Looking back later, even the ‘world-ending’ difficulties of one stage will eventually pass. Aside from life and death, nothing is a big deal.”

“When I found you, she was barely conscious but still holding you tight, begging me to save you. She never gave up on you, just as you didn’t give up on her.”

“…”

Bai Shuzhou set down her chopsticks, interrupting Helan’s earnest lecture. “I’m finished.”

Helan arched an eyebrow. She had a sharpness beyond ordinary people and immediately noticed the ripples beneath the calm surface. She finished, not she’s full.

The noodle bowl was spotless. She had eaten so quietly that the large bowl of noodles seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Huh, strange. Did I serve too little?

Helan waved: “Xiao Ming, come here. Go back home and serve another bowl of noodles. I’m taking Xiao Yu to work.”

She turned and urged Bai Shuzhou, “Don’t be shy. When you’re sick, you need to eat more. You need to be full to fight this long-term battle. Noodles don’t cost much; there’s plenty.”

Bai Shuzhou nodded.

Zhu Yu followed stealthily behind Helan, peeking her face in to echo: “Yeah, eat more. It’s already paid for, don’t worry.”

She was going to work now to earn money for the family.

It was a bit strange, a bit new, and a bit nerve-wracking. But the thought of being able to support herself made her feel more grounded than anything.

Although Zhu Yu came from a single-parent family, she hadn’t suffered much. She lacked a bit of the “brutality of society.” During her internship back home, she was still semi-attached to the school, had no salary, and maintained a great attitude.

The nutrient solution factory was massive—much more impressive than Zhu Yu had imagined. The floors were pure white, and the machinery operated with disciplined hums and buzzes.

Helan led her forward like a courageous leopard, introducing Zhu Yu to the manager as her niece coming to do a summer job. With this connection, the manager didn’t press her too hard even though she lacked identification.

Lunch was included—all you could eat.

Consequently, Zhu Yu began looking forward to the lunch break the moment she started her shift.

Once she put on the uniform, the work was simple and monotonous. It involved mechanically repeating very basic tasks. They seemed to have become tiny screws on a giant machine.

A girl next to her quietly put on headphones. The MP3 player was tiny and leaked a bit of sound. Zhu Yu listened along for a while; it was all rock music with a strong rhythm.

Still, it was boring.

While maintaining the same pace as those around her, Zhu Yu studied the machinery, imagining their internal structures.

They were only responsible for packaging and quality inspection; they weren’t authorized to participate in the production process. Zhu Yu was quite curious about how the nutrient solution was actually made.

The advertisements inside the factory were everywhere—ever-increasing. They claimed to be the “Greatest Blessing of the Interstellar Era,” allowing one to be full in just a few gulps, saving massive amounts of time and cost.

But what do you do with all that saved time?

Isn’t human lifespan already quite long?

What is Bai Shuzhou doing? Is she as bored as I am?

Ah, I forgot. If I’d known, I would have scavenged some books for her to read to pass the time. Otherwise, she just has to lie in bed all day; that’s too depressing.

A depressed Bai Shuzhou would “blacken,” dwell on her past glories versus current misery, and then rise up to kill her.

Thinking of the original owner’s tragic end, Zhu Yu couldn’t help but shiver, wanting to hold up her fingers and swear to the heavens that she was a reformed person.

The factory restroom had a mirror. When Zhu Yu saw the face of this body for the first time, she was struck as if by a bolt of lightning.

It wasn’t that it was too beautiful or too ugly—it was that they looked exactly the same.

Zhu Yu couldn’t figure it out.

Aside from friends, she’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to girls back home. How did the original owner manage to become a “Casanova Scum Alpha”?

The immersion was too strong. It was as if she were wearing a fuzzy costume, dancing recklessly in a busy market, only to take it off and find the mask was a custom-made replica of her own face.

A giant-sized “Social Death.”

What a terrifying Matryoshka doll curse! No wonder she used to have nightmares about adventures and being hunted.

But Zhu Yu didn’t stay broken for long. The whistle blew; it was time for lunch.

Zhu Yu changed her tune instantly, happily lining up for food with her colleagues. The girl she’d been observing looked at her. “New?”

Zhu Yu smiled at her. “Yeah. Hi. Good taste in music. I’m Xiao Yu.”

“Mm. I’m Shan.”

The people here were both warm and cold; they usually went by a single-syllable name. A chance encounter—easy to remember, easy to forget.

The factory produced nutrient solution, and the lunch provided to employees was also nutrient solution.

Xiao Shan pouted and lowered her voice to tell her: “They only give out the cheapest kind—the five-yuan packs. Occasionally, if you’re lucky and there’s an overproduction of other products, they’ll bring those over. If you take a few, no one cares.”

Zhu Yu asked curiously, “Other products?”

Xiao Shan was already numb. “Nutrient solutions of various flavors, nutrient supplements, nutrient blocks, nutrient cakes.”

A whole string of “nutrients.”

Xiao Shan: “But the five-yuan stuff has zero nutrition. It just fills you up to maintain vital signs. You should go to the pharmacy and spend a few coins on some vitamins.”

Calling it ‘Nutrient Solution’ when it has no nutrients—is ‘Nutrient’ just the brand name?

Zhu Yu felt like she’d discovered a state secret, whispering like a spy: “Thanks!”

The Alpha constitution was indeed excellent. She didn’t feel tired at all after a whole morning. Zhu Yu felt this was perhaps the only “dividend” the original owner had left her.

The nutrient solution was just a small strip. Zhu Yu tore it open and smelled a faint fragrance, but it vanished the moment it hit her tongue.

It felt like something was fermenting and expanding. Zhu Yu felt like a piece of bread currently being baked.

She was full, but at a cost. She felt like she was experiencing the sensation of being eighty years old and lying in bed on a liquid tube diet—skipping sixty years of life’s detours.

If one ate this forever, a lifetime would seem to pass very quickly.

Her wages had to be deducted for rent and the debt to Sister Helan; there wasn’t much disposable income. Until she could hold out until Bai Shuzhou returned to the palace, they would…

No, it was her. And she might not even be safe then.

Those top-tier Alpha love rivals were watching like tigers, eager to get rid of her.

If I die, can I go back home? To that forever safe, warm, fragrant home that always shields me from the storm?

The thought surfaced abruptly, startling Zhu Yu. She quickly pinched her wrist. She was afraid of pain and afraid of death. Life was precious!

Besides, Bai Shuzhou was still waiting for her.

If she really left, what if that bastard original owner came back to abuse her?

Stupid nutrient solution, you make people want to die!

But since it was free, Zhu Yu spitefully ate two more pouches.

The expensive nutrient solutions claimed they could “let you taste the flavor of happiness.” Zhu Yu strongly suspected they secretly added hallucinogens.

Sister Helan’s food was delicious, but it was indeed a bit pricey. Last night, she had scavenged some appliances, including a small electric cooker with a broken wire. It could be used after some repairs.

Zhu Yu pumped a fist. With a craft to rely on, let’s see how she, a transmigrator, could lead her “family” to wealth!

Just thinking of Bai Shuzhou eating meticulously made Zhu Yu feel good. It was like feeding a stray cat on the street; even if the other party was cold and turned their back on you after the meal…

Their existence itself was a form of happiness.

Xiao Shan watched her become mysteriously fired up while a burst of aggressive electric guitar played in her headphones.

Xiao Shan: [==] The weird colleague has appeared.

Zhu Yu maintained her high spirits right up until the end of her shift, standing out like a fresh sprig of scallion among her lifeless colleagues.

Once she walked away, the scallion began to wilt.

In the morning, Helan had led her; going home, she was alone. Navigating the winding, old alleys by herself, she noticed the uneven floor tiles—a stark contrast to the pure white environment of the factory.

She was a bit disappointed in this “future world.” It was the same disappointment she felt toward the original owner—having better material conditions didn’t seem to make life better.

The high-intensity repetitive labor made her wrists ache. She had originally planned a whole list of things: to secretly observe Bai Shuzhou’s mood, find her some toys, fix the electric cooker, the fridge, the chainsaw, and that game console that looked fun…

She trimmed the list down until it became: Forget it. So tired. I’ll just fix the cooker first.

From a distance, she saw the light on in the small courtyard. Like a lighthouse in the vast sea, it stood amidst the yellow twilight.

The faint scent of food wafted over. Her exhausted heart suddenly became very peaceful. The world went silent, as if her “voyage” out to sea was purely for the sake of waiting for this moment of returning home.

Zhu Yu ran back quickly and was surprised to find Helan there too. The woman’s tall silhouette was moving about the yard. Zhu Yu was grateful for her care of Bai Shuzhou. She tapped the counted money in her pocket and handed it to her first.

She had been touching it occasionally along the way, keeping it warm for fear it would be stolen. This was the first “pot of gold” she’d earned; naturally, it was extraordinary.

“No rush. Sit down and eat first. A moment won’t make a difference.”

Helan’s expression was complex, as if she were hesitating to speak. She pushed the door open to reveal a mountain-high stack of dishes on the table and called out, “Zhu Zhou—”

This was the fake name Zhu Yu had made up.

Zhu Yu and Bai Shuzhou. Bai Yu and Zhu Zhou.

She’d originally thought that since everyone was called “Little X”—Xiao Ming, Xiao Yu, Xiao Zhou—it was all the same. It was no big deal. But Helan clearly treated Bai Shuzhou as an adult and showed her more respect, calling her by her full “name.”

Zhu Yu’s pupils trembled.

Bai Shuzhou won’t think I’m humiliating her, will she?

The cold figure inside the room turned her head, blinked gently, and accepted the name.

She’d been found out. Zhu Yu froze in place, a subtle tingle rushing up from her heart. She responded? She actually responded!

Bai Shuzhou looked down expressionlessly, still as autumn water, her voice crisp and clear:

“Bai Yu, come here.”

Her surname. Her name.

Boom. Her heart raced, and a mysterious buzzing sounded in her ears. Zhu Yu felt her young body begin to decay like a rusty old machine, sparks flying with every clack.

Zhu Yu clutched her chest. It felt as though a clockwork spring was winding with a creak.

She couldn’t fix it.

Zhu Yu felt for a moment like she had struck a match. In the firelight, someone said, “It wouldn’t be bad to call our daughter by this name…”

That person was probably herself—the one who, because of her wishful thinking and flirting with the Princess, was being roasted over the fire by Bai Shuzhou.

The tips of her ears burned; she was about to be burned to death.

What “Butterfly Effect”? What “Grandfather Paradox”? She was already here… nothing had happened between them except for a kiss. Bai Shuzhou hated her so much; how could they possibly have a daughter!!!