Did Scumbag A Get Divorced Today? - Chapter 53.1

Shen Jueshu’s heart skipped a heavy beat when Sui Yu suddenly shouted out in excitement. For a second, she thought something had gone wrong. But when she saw how excited Sui Yu looked, she asked quickly, “Did you figure something out?”

Sui Yu’s eyes were wide and sparkling with joy. She was so thrilled she didn’t even care that her sudden movement had tugged at her wound and made it throb in pain. Clutching Shen Jueshu’s hand tightly, she said, “In a novel, if you want the plot to collapse and make readers hate it, besides the storyline being a mess, there’s one more thing—something that hits a universal red flag!”

“Red flag?” Shen Jueshu frowned slightly, clearly not quite following.

Sui Yu wasn’t surprised. After all, Shen Jueshu wasn’t exactly someone who read novels. So she began explaining enthusiastically, “Think about it—when you pick up a book, you look at the synopsis and character settings first, right? Suppose you’re into strong female leads. You definitely wouldn’t want the author to trick you with a fake label—writing the summary like it’s a boss-girl novel, but the story is actually about a fragile damsel who constantly needs saving, right?”

“Or what if the supposedly ruthless lead suddenly turns into a self-sacrificing saint, constantly helping others like some holy martyr? That kind of shift can tank the entire book’s reviews and reputation!”

Sui Yu grew more animated with each word. She was convinced her reasoning was sound—some key plot point must have changed into something that hit a major reader red flag, thus causing the world’s collapse.

“Then if that’s the case… what’s our red flag?” Shen Jueshu asked, frowning in thought. She regretted not having read a few more novels back then to understand the “market” better.

But Sui Yu just smiled, her expression bright and her ears slowly turning red. “Well… the things you mentioned probably wouldn’t apply to you. Like turning into a saint who forgives everyone? Just look at you—no way. Even I’m not a saint. There’s no way you’d be one.”

“And becoming a psychotic killer who slaughters without blinking—also no. You may be the protagonist, but this world still operates independently. There are laws. Even the protagonist would have to face legal consequences if they crossed a line.”

Shen Jueshu clearly realized the same, her frown deepening. “Then none of those red flags apply to us…”

Sui Yu laughed even more brightly, though the blush on her ears deepened. “Maybe not those… but there’s one red flag that applies to most stories.”

“What is it?” Shen Jueshu looked at her with interest. A red flag that applied broadly?

Sui Yu’s blush crept further across her cheeks. She looked at Shen Jueshu for a long time, then, her voice soft and a little shy, said, “It’s… when the protagonist has a romantic or physical relationship with someone other than the official love interest.”

She quickly added, “In 1v1 novels, depending on the plot and characters, some flexibility is allowed before the official couple gets together. But in most strict 1v1 stories, if the lead ends up sleeping with someone who isn’t the main love interest, it’s a huge red flag for readers.”

She looked at Shen Jueshu again and gave a small cough. “So… do you get what I mean?”

Shen Jueshu’s gaze lingered on her, then drifted to her completely flushed ears. Her mind flashed back to what Uncle Li had said. With Sui Yu’s words now linking to the thread she’d been following earlier, everything finally clicked into place.

Sui Yu’s theory was that the red flag was the protagonist having a relationship with someone other than their official partner—and in the original novel, Sui Yu wasn’t Shen Jueshu’s canon partner. Uncle Li had even asked whether they were sharing a room…

Suddenly, Shen Jueshu couldn’t help but laugh softly. What kind of weird, roundabout solution is this?

Uncle Li’s indirect way of reminding them—it really was just like those doctors who legally can’t reveal a baby’s gender but still drop hints to anxious family members.

“So what you’re saying is—if we sleep together, the Storyline Bureau will stop being a threat?” Shen Jueshu leaned in close, her voice low and teasing.

As her warm breath brushed across Sui Yu’s cheek, Sui Yu tried hard to suppress her embarrassment, but her face was already glowing red. “It’s just a possibility, not guaranteed…”

The corners of Shen Jueshu’s lips curled into a smile. She leaned in and kissed the corner of Sui Yu’s mouth. “Well, possible or not—it’s worth trying, isn’t it?”

After all, they were already married and genuinely loved each other. Even if they weren’t doing this to deal with the plot enforcers, it was only a matter of time before something happened between them anyway.

Sui Yu swallowed hard, her eyes on Shen Jueshu, but her expression turned a little mournful. “I… I’ve been so useless.”

Shy! What’s there to be shy about?!
If only she had just taken the initiative earlier, none of this mess would have happened. She’d had so many chances in the past!

Now that the government had officially stepped in to investigate, Jiang Boshan was far too busy to even think about making trouble for Jiang Siyue.

“Tch…” Sui Yu winced. Bribing officials? Even if she didn’t understand the business world, she could still tell how serious that was.

“You really were born to worry,” Shen Jueshu muttered as she turned off the lights, reaching over to cover Sui Yu’s eyes gently and coax her into sleeping.

Sui Yu huffed, unconvinced. “Who goes through life without worrying? Even if you’re all alone, you still have to worry about feeding yourself!”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. Now sleep,” Shen Jueshu replied without bothering to argue.

Sui Yu: “…”
She’s getting more and more dismissive lately.

She sighed dramatically. “You’re getting cold with me. Is it because you’ve seen too much of me looking like a mess lately? Has that burning love of yours faded? Now that it’s gone, are you—mmph, mmph…”

Before she could finish, Shen Jueshu silenced her with a kiss.
That mouth just wouldn’t stop, and now it was spouting nonsense. Shen Jueshu bit down lightly on her lower lip, just hard enough to make her gasp.

“If you keep saying nonsense like that,” she whispered, “I really will bite it off next time.”

Silenced by the kiss—and knowing all too well that Shen Jueshu meant what she said—Sui Yu finally stopped talking. She’d been bitten enough times to know better.

Seeing her finally quiet, Shen Jueshu gave her one last kiss on the corner of her mouth, like a reward, then pulled her into her arms and they fell asleep together.

The next day, neither of them expected an unexpected guest to walk into the hospital room.

Sui Yu blinked in surprise. “Uncle Li? What are you doing here?”

Uncle Li still had that warm, gentle air about him. He sat down by the bed, smiled at Sui Yu, and said, “Just wanted to visit while you’re still alive. At the rate you two are going, I was starting to worry I’d never get the chance again.”

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

Uncle Li just chuckled. “Seeing you sass me like that tells me you’re fine.” He turned to Shen Jueshu. “You’ve been taking good care of her.”

“I should,” Shen Jueshu replied evenly.
Whether because Sui Yu got hurt saving her, or simply because she was her wife—she was duty-bound to care for her.

Seeing their closeness, Uncle Li felt comforted. But soon, his smile faded, replaced by a somber look.

“There’s something else I came to tell you,” he said. “Something you need to be aware of.”

“This world’s plotline has fully collapsed. You need to be on guard against the Storyline Maintainers.”

Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu exchanged a glance. “Can you explain more clearly?” Sui Yu asked.

Uncle Li nodded. “I’ve mentioned this before: the maintainers are split into two groups—those from the real world, and those within the book’s world. When the plot deviation isn’t too severe, real-world maintainers might still try to fix things. But once the damage is too great and they can’t see any hope of recovery, they’ll most likely abandon the world entirely.”

“And when that happens, the in-world maintainers are likely to spiral. If the story doesn’t return to its original path, their consciousness is at risk of being erased. No one wants that. So before it’s too late, they’ll start acting desperately to save themselves.”

That moment… would be a last-ditch, life-or-death struggle. And the damage they could cause wouldn’t be small.

Sui Yu’s eyes widened. Shen Jueshu’s brows slowly furrowed. “And what’s this ‘critical plot point’ that determines everything?”

What event could be that important—important enough to decide whether they lived or died?

But this time, Uncle Li fell silent. After a pause, he said, “I’ve already told you what I’m allowed to. Saying any more would be like helping you erase the maintainers. That wouldn’t be fair to them.”

Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu: “…”

They were frustrated, but they understood. Uncle Li wouldn’t say more. Still, what he had shared was already an enormous help.

So… maybe the person who shot Sui Yu wasn’t a transmigrator after all? Maybe it was a Storyline Maintainer trying to save themselves?

And the rest—they’d have to figure out on their own.

Uncle Li looked between the two of them and suddenly asked, “Since you got married… have you two been sleeping in separate rooms?”

“Huh?” Sui Yu looked confused. “Why are you asking that? Don’t tell me you’ve joined the ranks of nosy relatives trying to pressure us into having a baby!”

The look she gave him was pure disdain—like he’d just joined the ranks of her most annoying extended family.

Uncle Li nearly choked on his own breath. When did this girl become so good at shutting people down?

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

Then he shook his head and left on his own, without waiting for them to walk him out.

Sui Yu was still processing his weird words. Was he… disappointed in them? They weren’t even the ones nagging like old people!

But Shen Jueshu, after hearing him, had a thoughtful frown.
Uncle Li wasn’t the kind of elder to pry about private matters. Why was he suddenly concerned about that?

“What are you thinking about?” Sui Yu tugged on her hand, giving it a little shake.

The moment was broken. Whatever Shen Jueshu had been thinking vanished from her mind. She shook her head. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Yes!” Sui Yu’s eyes lit up.

It helped that they were still on New Year break—no work, no meetings. Even Shen Jueshu had rare free time to spend with her.

As they strolled through the garden, their conversation turned back to the maintainers.

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

The plot had already crumbled. With every step forward, it felt like they were only pushing the maintainers closer to collapse. And the worst part was—they had no idea who or how many were still out there.

It was the unknown that was the most terrifying.

“The best plan is to find them before they act,” Shen Jueshu said, brows tight with concern. “But that’s the hardest part. I spent so long just to track down one of them—and they still got away. Doing it again won’t be easy.”

“Consciousness erasure…” Sui Yu murmured. “Why is it so easy to erase theirs, but not ours?”

“…Could it be because our awareness awakened naturally—while theirs was assigned by the plot? If the plot gave them their identity, then it can also take it away.”

That would explain why she and Shen Jueshu were still conscious—still themselves—while others were at risk of vanishing completely.

Shen Jueshu didn’t speak, but she agreed.

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

“It is cruel,” Shen Jueshu said softly, her gaze turning dark.

But it was a cruelty they had to accept. She couldn’t bear the thought of being forced back into the original story, where she and Sui Yu might become enemies. If that was the cost of survival—then yes, those maintainers’ minds would have to go.

They sat in silence for a while, both thinking the same thing, neither needing to say it aloud.

Sui Yu reached out and held Shen Jueshu’s hand tightly. No matter what… they had to live.

Back in the hospital room, lying in bed, Sui Yu’s mind kept circling back to Uncle Li’s words.

What was that critical plot point?

She combed through her thoughts, trying to figure out what kind of plot twist could destroy an entire book’s story.

For a narrative to collapse—there had to be a moment that outraged readers. Something that hit a universal nerve.

Suddenly, her eyes widened.

“Wife! I think I figured it out!”

A red flag. A major one that triggers readers everywhere.

“Keep your hands still—don’t press on your wound,” Shen Jueshu reminded her gently.

“I won’t! I’ve got experience now!” Sui Yu mumbled proudly. After all, she’d been hugging Shen Jueshu to sleep these past few nights—finally gaining some dignity as an Alpha!

Late night, Basement Level 3, Zone B of Huilin Tower

When Sister Yang and her group arrived, the place was eerily silent. Aside from the sound of their car engine, there was nothing but stillness.

A text notification suddenly chimed, piercing through the quiet of the underground garage. Sister Yang opened the message and, following the directions, drove about 150 meters forward. Then, a Rolls-Royce Phantom came into view—completely ostentatious and not even trying to be discreet.

Sister Yang couldn’t help but mentally scoff but still got out of the car with her team, eyes landing warily on the Phantom.

The windows were tinted with anti-peep film—they couldn’t see a thing inside. Two minutes passed. Just as her patience began to fray, the passenger door opened.

A man stepped out.

He had a sharp, almost sinister look to him, with deathly pale skin. Under the dim underground lighting, he looked more ghost than human.

Sister Yang’s group: “…”

Support