Did Scumbag A Get Divorced Today? - Chapter 52.2

After checking that her chest injury hadn’t reopened, Shen Jueshu responded quietly, “They’re from the Storyline Maintenance Bureau.”

Of course… it all made sense.

“What’s their situation now?”

Shen Jueshu sat back down and gave a small, bitter smile. “They’re being held in a secure location, but so far, they haven’t said a word.”

It was frustrating. The rest of the Bureau’s people had escaped too quickly—this one was the only one they managed to catch.

Sui Yu was thoughtful for a moment. “If he won’t talk, then maybe we can use him as bait. See if we can draw out the others.”

But would those people really abandon him so easily?

After what happened with Gu Ying, the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore…

“Mm. But you don’t need to worry about that,” Shen Jueshu said softly. “Your job is to recover.”

Her gaze darkened slightly. Even knowing the danger… she still couldn’t let Sui Yu go. She was selfish—completely.

Hearing her words, Sui Yu nodded seriously. Of course she needed to focus on healing. Being stuck in bed like some useless invalid—it was unbearable.

That evening, Shen’s parents came by again to check on them. They brought along a variety of homemade dishes prepared by the housekeepers. Since Sui Yu needed to stick to a light, bland diet during recovery, the Shen family’s meals were the most suitable.

But staring at the plain, flavorless food, Sui Yu truly had no appetite.

After Shen’s parents left, Shen Jueshu said gently, “Eat. Once you’ve recovered, I’ll take you out for something good.”

Sui Yu shifted her gaze from the dull dishes to Shen Jueshu’s face and asked, “Spicy hotpot?”

“Mm,” Shen Jueshu responded with a soft hum.

Sui Yu: “…”

What had gotten into her? Shen Jueshu, someone who couldn’t even handle spice, was now willing to eat spicy hotpot with her?

“…Forget it. Let’s do a half-and-half pot,” Sui Yu said with a shake of her head. Watching Shen Jueshu suffer from spicy food wouldn’t feel right either.

Shen Jueshu gave a soft, amused smile.

After carefully feeding Sui Yu until she was full, the two sat and chatted for a while. Then Shen Jueshu went to the bathroom to draw warm water and gently helped Sui Yu wipe down. Having been through that awkward experience of needing help after her leg injury, Sui Yu was still embarrassed, but not as resistant as before.

Shen Jueshu took her time, gently wiping her down. Seeing how thin and frail Sui Yu had become, her voice lowered slightly. “Once you’re better, you’re coming with me to the gym.”

If she lost any more weight, there’d barely be anything left of her.

Sui Yu: “…”

That felt like a bolt from the blue.

Seeing the dumbstruck expression on Sui Yu’s face, Shen Jueshu leaned in and kissed the corner of her lips. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If you don’t start working out, one day you’ll regret it.”

Sui Yu stayed silent, trying to imagine what exactly she might regret. After some serious thinking… she still had no idea.

Seeing how completely innocent her expression was, Shen Jueshu chuckled but didn’t say more.

After washing her clean, Shen Jueshu took her own change of clothes and went to shower. When she came back out, she naturally lay beside Sui Yu and gently pulled her into her arms.

Resting in Shen Jueshu’s embrace and breathing in her soothing scent, Sui Yu found herself reflecting. In the ABO world, Omega pheromones weren’t supposed to provide this kind of comfort. It was usually the Alpha’s scent that made the Omega feel safe. But for her, things had somehow flipped — it was Shen Jueshu’s Omega pheromones that brought her peace.

Meanwhile, across the city, Yang Jie sat in a daze, staring blankly at the corner of the room. Her entire spirit felt drained.

This “plot correction” had completely extinguished any hope she had left.

“Yang Jie…” someone called out tentatively.

“Don’t call me that,” she said hollowly, her eyes still unfocused.

“Uh…” The person looked troubled, brows furrowed. “So… what do we do now?”

Yang Jie closed her eyes and sighed. “Enjoy what little time we have left. While Sui Yu’s still recovering — this is our final window.”

“…”

“You think this whole incident was the work of a transmigrator?” the person asked after some hesitation.

Yang Jie opened her eyes, her expression turning cold. “Whether it was or not, at least it worked in our favor.”

“From now on, we can’t count on the higher-ups. We have to save ourselves.”

The plotline was already this broken. If the powers above hadn’t taken action by now, they probably had already given up on this world.

But if they had to save themselves…
Yang Jie’s face darkened.

Surely they couldn’t shoot Sui Yu too, right?

During her hospital stay, Sui Yu was practically going stir-crazy. Lying in bed all day, barely able to move, made her bones itch with the need for motion. She wanted nothing more than to stretch and move around wildly.

“Don’t move so much,” Shen Jueshu said softly, rubbing and massaging her arms and legs to help ease the discomfort.

Even so, Sui Yu still had a miserable expression on her face. Despite the relief Shen Jueshu provided, it felt like her body was rusting from all the lying down.

Seeing her like that, Shen Jueshu sighed. “Want me to wheel you outside for a bit?”

Sui Yu’s eyes lit up immediately and she looked at her with hope and excitement.

Shen Jueshu fetched a wheelchair and carefully lifted Sui Yu out of bed, cradling her in a gentle princess carry before settling her into the chair. She wrapped her up in a blanket and made sure everything was snug before finally relaxing.

Sui Yu, in her arms: “…”

She’d been princess-carried more than a few times these past days, but every time she saw Shen Jueshu — with her delicate, slender frame — effortlessly lifting her, it felt surreal. Like something out of a dream.

“What’s that look for?” Shen Jueshu asked with a chuckle. “Your face looks hilarious.”

Sui Yu let out a soft sigh, then warmed her hands by breathing on them. She slipped one hand under the hem of Shen Jueshu’s shirt and placed it on her stomach, her face full of envy as she felt the firm lines there.

“You haven’t been working out lately, and yet your abs are still there.”

Faced with her sudden gesture, Shen Jueshu glanced down at her and replied in a calm voice, “I worked hard for those abs. You think they’d disappear that easily?”

Even though she’d been busy taking care of Sui Yu lately, she hadn’t been eating anything high in calories. Her defined abs weren’t going anywhere that fast.

Sui Yu fell silent, quietly withdrawing her hand. Better not embarrass myself further.

Letting Shen Jueshu push her out to the hospital garden, Sui Yu felt the chill of winter clear her mind as the cold wind swept by. There were few people around at this hour. Looking out at the greenery and dense winter shrubs, she suddenly realized… she really was starting to feel like a part of this world.

There was no more disconnect. It felt like she truly belonged here—settled, and at ease.

“Wife,” Sui Yu said, glancing up at her, “what kind of person was the original Sui Yu, in your memory?”

As Shen Jueshu pushed the wheelchair slowly over the concrete path, her expression remained composed. “Why the sudden question?”

Sui Yu looked slightly dazed. “Because I’ve been having this dream lately. And the Sui Yu in the dream feels… so unfamiliar.”

“Oh?” Shen Jueshu stopped walking and crouched beside her, lifting her eyes to meet Sui Yu’s. “Why do you say that?”

Looking at her now—her features delicate and cool, like an ink wash painting, sparse yet stunning—Sui Yu raised her hand and gently cupped her face. Her fingers brushed lightly against her cheek as she spoke softly, “In my dream, the original Sui Yu sometimes came across as warm and humble… but other times, she was cruel and dark. I couldn’t figure out who she really was.”

How could one person have such extreme contradictions?

After listening, Shen Jueshu frowned slightly and closed her eyes in thought. “Before the forced engagement, I didn’t have much of an impression of her. When we were kids, she was pretty gentle. But after that, she became unpredictable—mood swings, hard to understand.”

Sui Yu lowered her gaze to the blanket on her lap. The Sui Yu in her dreams… was clearly from the same time period, and yet so different. How could the same person feel so split apart?

“Maybe I’m just overthinking things,” she muttered, trying to laugh it off. “It’s just a dream. Dreams are shaped by your subconscious, right? Maybe I made part of it up.”

Shen Jueshu leaned in and placed a soft kiss in the center of her palm. She didn’t say anything more, but she took Sui Yu’s words to heart. With a quiet sigh, she stood up and gently pushed her around the garden once more before returning to the ward, afraid she’d catch a chill.

“When can I meet the person from the Storyline Maintenance Bureau?” Sui Yu asked as she looked up at Shen Jueshu. The clean, sharp lines of her jaw—how could someone’s chin be so perfectly shaped?

“Focus on healing first. Once you’ve recovered fully, then we’ll talk about it. He’s not going anywhere—you don’t need to rush,” Shen Jueshu said as she gently carried her back into bed and tucked the blanket around her.

“But I’m so bored,” Sui Yu complained, frowning. Even playing games was banned—they were worried she’d get too excited and reopen her wound.

“You’re really that bored?” Shen Jueshu asked.

Sui Yu nodded quickly, trying to convey the depths of her suffering with utmost sincerity.

Shen Jueshu: “…”

She brought over the laptop, opened the financial statements, and said, “Then let me teach you how to read these. What each number means, how to interpret the data in the reports…”

Sui Yu: “…You’re serious?”

Shen Jueshu looked puzzled. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Learn properly. Don’t let someone scam you in the future and you not even know it,” Shen Jueshu added firmly.

Sui Yu looked like she was about to cry. I don’t even handle finances. Who would even bother trying to scam me with spreadsheets?

And just like that, Sui Yu spent the rest of the afternoon under Shen Jueshu’s “supervision,” learning everything about financial reports—from their structure, to the meaning of every technical term—carefully and thoroughly explained.

By the end, Sui Yu was left speechless. I don’t think I can love anymore…

That night, lying in bed like a lifeless fish, Sui Yu sighed dramatically. “Has Jiang Boshan been up to anything lately?”

She couldn’t help but worry that he might try to sabotage Jiang Siyue again.

“He’s already swamped,” Shen Jueshu replied coolly as she sat down beside the bed. “He’s busy enough trying to deal with bribery charges. He’s got no time for petty tricks.”

Now that government officials had moved in to investigate, Jiang Boshan was far too busy to cause any more trouble for Jiang Siyue.

“Yikes…” Sui Yu winced. Bribery charges. Even though she didn’t know much about business or politics, she understood how serious that was.

“You really do worry too much,” Shen Jueshu said as she turned off the light and gently placed her hand over Sui Yu’s eyes to make her sleep.

Sui Yu protested, “Who lives a whole life without worrying? Even if you’re all alone, you still have to worry about feeding yourself!”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. Now go to sleep,” Shen Jueshu replied, not bothering to argue.

Sui Yu: “…”
She’s really getting more dismissive of me these days.

She let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re getting colder toward me lately. Is it because you’ve seen too much of me at my worst these days? Has it dulled that burning love you once had for me? If the love’s fading… then maybe in the future—mmph, mmph—”

She didn’t get to finish.

Shen Jueshu kissed her—hard—cutting her off mid-sentence. That mouth just couldn’t stop, and now it was talking complete nonsense. She bit her lower lip just hard enough to make her yelp, then warned in a low voice, “If you keep saying things like that, next time I really will bite it off.”

Thoroughly kissed and half-dizzy, Sui Yu finally shut up. She knew Shen Jueshu meant it—this woman had bitten her plenty of times before.

Satisfied, Shen Jueshu gave her a final kiss on the corner of her mouth like a reward, and then pulled her into her arms to sleep.

But the next morning, someone neither of them expected showed up in the hospital room.

Sui Yu’s eyes widened in surprise. “Uncle Li? What are you doing here?”

Uncle Li looked as calm and gentle as ever. He sat down beside her bed and smiled. “Just thought I’d drop by while you’re still alive. Judging by how things are going, I was worried I might not get another chance.”

Sui Yu: “…Uncle Li, are you cursing me?”
What do you mean, “while I’m still alive”?

Uncle Li’s smile deepened. “Well, since you’re talking back like that, you must be fine.”
He then turned to Shen Jueshu and added, “You’ve taken good care of her.”

“It’s my duty,” Shen Jueshu answered calmly.
Not just because Sui Yu had been injured saving her—but because she was her wife. She should be taking care of her.

Seeing how close they were, Uncle Li looked pleased, but his expression gradually turned serious. “I didn’t just come to check in. There’s something important I need to warn you about.”

“This world’s plot has completely collapsed. You need to be cautious of the Storyline Maintainers.”

Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu exchanged a glance, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve mentioned before,” Uncle Li said, “that the Bureau is split between people from the real world and people inside the story. As long as the plot isn’t too far off course, the real-world maintainers might still step in. But if it gets too broken—if it’s obvious there’s no fixing it—they’re very likely to just abandon this world altogether.”

“And once that happens, the in-world maintainers might go mad. Because if the plot never returns to its original path, their consciousness will be erased. No one wants to just disappear like that. So before the point of no return, they’ll definitely start trying to save themselves.”

That moment… would be like a final, desperate lunge before death—and it could be violent and deadly.

Sui Yu’s eyes widened. Even Shen Jueshu furrowed her brows. “What is this critical point in the plot that triggers all of that?”

What kind of moment could determine whether they lived or died?

But this time, Uncle Li didn’t answer directly. He went quiet, then finally said, “That’s all I’m allowed to say. If I tell you more, it would be like helping you destroy them—and that wouldn’t be fair.”

Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu: “…”

They were frustrated, but they knew Uncle Li wouldn’t say another word. And honestly, what he’d already shared was a huge help.

So… the one who shot Sui Yu might not have been a transmigrator at all? It might have been a Storyline Maintainer’s self-preservation attempt?

And that crucial plot point—whatever it was—would have to be discovered on their own.

Uncle Li looked at them both and suddenly asked, “Since getting married, have you two been sleeping in separate rooms?”

“Huh?” Sui Yu blinked, confused. “Why are you asking that? Are you trying to pressure us into having kids too?”

She looked at him with full-on suspicion, as if he’d joined the ranks of nosy relatives urging them to “start a family.”

Uncle Li nearly choked on air. When did she become so good at shutting people down like this?!

He stood up, gave them both a long, complicated look, and said, “You two really lack any of the passion or impulsiveness of youth.”

Then, shaking his head, he left without even waiting for them to see him out.

Sui Yu stared after him, puzzled. What did he even mean by that? And why did he look so… disappointed? They weren’t the ones nagging like old folks!

But Shen Jueshu remained thoughtful, frowning slightly. Why would someone like Uncle Li suddenly care about their intimacy?

“What are you thinking about?” Sui Yu asked, tugging gently on her hand.

The question broke her out of her thoughts. Shen Jueshu shook her head. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Yes!” Sui Yu’s eyes lit up.

Thankfully, it was the holiday season, and they didn’t have any work responsibilities at the moment. Even Shen Jueshu had a rare stretch of free time.

As they strolled through the garden, they talked about the maintainers.

“If what Uncle Li said is true,” Sui Yu murmured, “then those maintainers are like ticking time bombs.”

The plot was already in ruins. The more it crumbled, the closer they were to pushing the maintainers over the edge. And yet, they didn’t even know where those people were, or how many of them there were.

It was the unknown that frightened her most.

“The best solution is to find them before they act,” Shen Jueshu said, brows tightly knit. “But that’s the hardest part. I spent so much time tracking down just one of them, and they still escaped. Finding the rest won’t be easy.”

“Consciousness erasure…” Sui Yu murmured. “Why can their minds be erased so easily, but ours can’t?”

“…Could it be because our consciousness awakened on its own, while theirs was given by the plot? Like a borrowed identity that can be taken back?”

That would explain why she and Shen Jueshu were still fully aware while others might vanish without a trace.

Shen Jueshu said nothing, but she clearly agreed.

“That’s a cruel system,” Sui Yu sighed. In the end, only one side’s awareness could survive.

“It is cruel,” Shen Jueshu said quietly, her eyes dim.

Cruel—but necessary.
If forced to choose between following the plot and becoming enemies again… she’d rather let the maintainers disappear.

Neither of them spoke, but they both knew what the other was thinking. They had no choice—they wanted to survive.

Sui Yu reached out and held Shen Jueshu’s hand. No matter what happened, they were going to make it through together.

Back in the hospital room, lying in bed, Sui Yu couldn’t stop thinking about what Uncle Li had said.

What was that key plot point?

She combed through everything in her mind, trying to think of something that could collapse the entire storyline of a book.

If a story breaks down and everyone turns on it… then something must have happened that crossed a major red line for most readers.

Sui Yu suddenly sat up, eyes wide.

“Wife—I think I know what it is!”

A trigger. A universal red flag.

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