Did Scumbag A Get Divorced Today? - Chapter 54.2

Shen Jueshu: “…If I’m the Emperor, then you’re my Empress.”

That made Sui Yu giggle. She leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “You do say the sweetest things sometimes.”

Shen Jueshu didn’t even blink. “You just like hearing it.”

And every time she said something like that, Sui Yu would wag her metaphorical tail and smother her with kisses like an overexcited golden retriever.

“I only like hearing it from you,” Sui Yu replied without shame.
After all, who didn’t like sweet words from someone they loved?

Shen Jueshu’s features softened. Honestly, she didn’t even know how to handle this girl sometimes.

—

Two days later, Sui Yu’s injuries had fully healed. During that time, Shen Jueshu had even taken her for a scar removal procedure. The scar tissue had flattened, though the area was still a bit pinker than the surrounding skin.

That night, Shen Jueshu gently touched the spot, her voice low.
“Give it a little more time—it’ll blend in completely.”

Sui Yu’s skin was fair—especially the parts normally hidden beneath clothing—so the faint pink of the healing scar stood out like a delicate bloom.

“Mhm. As long as you don’t mind, I’m fine with it,” Sui Yu murmured, glancing down. Compared to before, the improvement was huge—she was satisfied.

“Why would I mind?” Shen Jueshu replied.

She leaned down and kissed the scar gently.

Her lips brushed over the healed skin, and suddenly, a tight ache spread through her chest. Her eyes stung, and even her heart ached with tenderness.

This scar was left behind to save her. Anyone else could despise it—but Sui Yu never would, and never could.

She reached out and flipped Shen Jueshu over, pinning her beneath as she gazed down into her soft, elegant eyes. She leaned in and kissed her tear-reddened lids.

“It’s over now, okay? Stop blaming yourself. I chose this,” she whispered.

Every time Shen Jueshu saw the scar, her mood would dip. That wouldn’t do—not with what the future held. In moments like that, the last thing Sui Yu wanted was for her to look down and start feeling miserable. That would ruin everything!

“Cheer up! And from now on, you’re only allowed to cry under one circumstance.”
Sui Yu straightened, putting on her best domineering tone.

It was surprisingly convincing—thankfully, she didn’t have the greasy smirk or exaggerated charm of a clichéd CEO character. Otherwise, she’d be full-on cringey.

Shen Jueshu, looking up at her, couldn’t help but smile a little. “Oh? And what circumstance is that?”

Sui Yu swallowed, suddenly faltering. Her earlier confidence drained away, and her gaze darted everywhere but Shen Jueshu’s eyes. Still, she forced herself to hold the pose.

“That—that time! The only time I’ll allow you to cry… is when I make you cry… from pleasure!”

It was, without a doubt, the boldest line Sui Yu had ever delivered in her life.
And the second the words left her mouth, her face flushed so red it could poach an egg.

Shen Jueshu fell silent, watching her.

Seeing Sui Yu squirm and practically wish she could disappear into the floor, Shen Jueshu finally said, “I think… that might be a bit difficult.”

“…What?”
Sui Yu forgot all about her embarrassment. She stared wide-eyed, echoing incredulously, “A bit difficult?!”

Shen Jueshu nodded solemnly. “Yes. Difficult.”

Sui Yu: “…”

“You don’t believe in me?!” she exclaimed, voice full of disbelief.

Another slow nod. “I don’t.”

Everything about Sui Yu’s behavior made her doubt she could actually pull it off. She was pretty sure her Alpha was overestimating herself.

Sui Yu: “…”

“You just wait!” Sui Yu growled, half furious, half humiliated. Being doubted by her own wife—was there anything more insulting?!

“I’ll wait,” Shen Jueshu said, clearly amused, lips curling into a smile as she pulled Sui Yu close. Her voice dropped to a soft, teasing whisper:
“I’ll wait for my Alpha to make me cry.”

That gentle, flirty tone, paired with her stunning face, sent a jolt down Sui Yu’s spine. Her knees went weak, and she collapsed on top of Shen Jueshu, muttering, “F-fine, wait then.”

Inside, though, she was already tearing at her metaphorical handkerchief, crying in shame. How could I fold so fast?!

—

After being discharged from the hospital, both of them got back to their packed schedules. Shen Jueshu returned to her company, where a mountain of work awaited her. Sui Yu threw herself into the lab, running experiments and tracking data.

They were busy—but fulfilled.

Even Jiang Siyue, once aimless and idle, had turned her life around. Now, the former layabout had thrown herself into her career with surprising passion.

Meanwhile, with Shen Jueshu back in charge, Jiang Bosheng’s empire was crumbling. One by one, companies began cutting ties with him, and government audits were piling up—his once-commanding presence reduced to chaos and suspicion.

Of course, the scandal surrounding the Jiang family inevitably affected Jiang Siyue. The internet already knew she was his daughter, so every media interview she gave ended up circling back to her family’s downfall.

In response, Jiang Siyue made it clear: she was no longer using any of the Jiang family’s resources—and she sincerely hoped they’d weather the storm.

But her tone was icy, devoid of warmth.

Naturally, the trolls latched onto this and tried to spin it—suggesting she was abandoning her family in their time of need to save her own skin.

They weren’t ready for her fans.

— “They tried to marry her off to the Li family like a pawn, and now they expect her to jump in and save them? Give me a break.”
— “That’s not a daughter—they treated her like currency. The Jiang family’s fall is on them, not her.”
— “With parents like that, who needs enemies?”
— “Honestly, if it were me, I’d change my name and cut ties completely.”

Given the public knowledge about the forced engagement, most people sympathized with Jiang Siyue’s cold detachment. If anything, they admired her restraint.

But Jiang Bosheng, frustrated and furious, refused to accept it.
He knew the only reason he’d fallen this far was because of Shen Jueshu—and Shen Jueshu had only moved against him because of Jiang Siyue.

If he could drag Jiang Siyue back into the family, maybe Shen Jueshu would hesitate—maybe she’d hold back.

So, one day, during a livestream event, he suddenly appeared.

Holding a bouquet, Jiang Bosheng walked in with cameras rolling, declaring himself a family member—intent on showing the world that Jiang Siyue was still his daughter.

Siyue’s expression immediately frosted over.

Facing that familiar, fake smile, she was no longer afraid. Maybe it was the strength she’d gained from Shen Jueshu and Sui Yu—but the fear that used to paralyze her was simply… gone.

As he called her “Siyue, my daughter” over and over again, she stared him down and said coldly:

“Don’t push me.”

“If you keep pushing—I’ll stop being a Jiang altogether. I’ll change my surname to Shen.”

She said it with perfect calm. No drama. Just truth.

And let there be no mistake—she didn’t cling to that family name out of love. It meant nothing to her now.

When Jiang Siyue said those words, Jiang Bosheng’s face instantly darkened. The entire livestream scene erupted with chatter and disbelief.

Did she just say she’d change her surname to Shen?

What was her relationship with Shen Jueshu? Wasn’t Shen Jueshu married to Sui Yu?

Netizens had long since picked apart Jiang Siyue’s social connections. They knew she was signed under Shen Jueshu’s management company. But even with that knowledge, her words came off as… strange.

That night, Shen Jueshu and Sui Yu were relaxing in bed, casually watching the livestream. When they heard what Jiang Siyue said, they were both visibly stunned.

They hadn’t expected her to cut ties with her family so cleanly and so publicly.

But soon after, as online speculation began spiraling into wild guesses about a possible love triangle, Sui Yu rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Do people online really have nothing else in their heads besides love triangles? Is it so hard to imagine people having normal, non-romantic relationships?”

Shen Jueshu sighed and shook her head. “People are obsessed. The second anything happens, they immediately jump to romance or scandal.”

Not long after, both of their phones buzzed with notifications. A new Weibo post had gone live—by someone they both followed closely.

They opened it.

It was Shen Mama.

She had posted several screenshots from the livestream—candid, flattering shots of Jiang Siyue—gushing about how beautiful her daughter looked, how proud she was, and how much she missed her. At the end, she tagged Jiang Siyue directly and wrote, “Mama’s waiting at home for you.”

Both Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu were left speechless, their expressions a little complicated.

Then another notification popped up.

It was a message from Shen Mama:
“Help me repost this, okay? I don’t have that many followers. I want more people to see it.”

Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu exchanged glances—and couldn’t help but laugh.

Of course, they reposted it.

Once they did, the other artists under Shen Jueshu’s company followed suit. With so many people amplifying it, the topic quickly shot up the trending list.

By the time the livestream ended, “Jiang Siyue is Shen Mama’s goddaughter” was already a top headline. The rumors of her trying to steal someone’s wife were instantly shut down.

Watching this unfold, Jiang Bosheng nearly ground his teeth into dust.

It was obvious now—Jiang Siyue had no intention of returning to the Jiang family. Her coldness had drawn a clear line. And that realization filled him with rage.

If that was her choice, then he would stop holding back.

Later that night, after the livestream, Jiang Siyue called Shen Mama to let her know she was safe. Then she called Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu. Her voice was low and tense.

“You two need to be extra careful with Jiang Bosheng. If he’s desperate enough, he’ll do anything.”

After all, he’d already pushed his own sister to the brink. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do.

Shen Jueshu’s voice was calm. “We know. Just make sure you’re safe too.”

The moment she had decided to take down Jiang Bosheng, she had anticipated this exact scenario. His retaliation wasn’t a surprise.

Hearing Shen Jueshu’s steady tone, Jiang Siyue felt strangely reassured. Compared to her brother, Shen Jueshu had always seemed sharper, more in control. Jiang Bosheng relied on manipulation, but Shen Jueshu could win fair and square—right out in the open.

After she hung up, Jiang Siyue stared at her phone for a long while. Eventually, she locked the screen and handed it back to her manager.

She suddenly didn’t know how to face Li Yi anymore.

—

Ever since Sui Yu had been discharged from the hospital, the Transcenders had gone quiet.

Too quiet.

That silence only made Shen Jueshu and Sui Yu more uneasy.

Reports from those monitoring the former Maintenance Agents showed nothing suspicious—no new contact, no strange movements. It was like the Transcenders had simply vanished from their world.

“It’s too quiet,” Sui Yu muttered. “What if… they’ve given up on this world?”

Shen Jueshu looked over at her and shook her head. “Unlikely.”

They had already tried to kill both Sui Yu and herself. That kind of determination wasn’t something that just disappeared overnight. No—whatever their plan was, it wasn’t over.

“Then what are they doing?” Sui Yu frowned. “It’s way too calm. They’re either really done, or they’re hiding something big and waiting for the right moment.”

Shen Jueshu’s gaze darkened. “That’s why we can’t let our guard down.”

With the Transcenders, they needed to be more vigilant than ever.

Sui Yu’s brows furrowed tighter. Living like this—constantly on edge, like her head was hanging by a thread—was exhausting.

Days passed.

Life appeared normal on the surface. There were no more disturbances. No more threats. No more signs of danger.

Their careers stabilized. Work picked up. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, as if the storm had passed.

But deep down, both women knew:

This was only the calm before the real storm.

That day, Shen Jueshu had to travel to another province to handle some matters personally. She would be gone for about a week.

Sui Yu watched as Shen Jueshu packed her suitcase, sighing softly. Since arriving in this world, they had never been apart for so long—not even before their relationship was made official.

“Why that face? It’s not like I’m never coming back,” Shen Jueshu said with a smile as she reached over to pat Sui Yu’s head—like petting a puppy.

“Hey! Don’t say things like that—it sounds unlucky!” Sui Yu snapped playfully, then her expression turned serious. “Make sure you bring enough bodyguards, and don’t let yourself out of their sight at any time.”

Given the situation they were in, it was better to be safe.

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll come back in one piece,” Shen Jueshu said gently. So this is what it feels like to be cared for by someone you love, she thought.

Once Sui Yu was sure Shen Jueshu wasn’t taking her warning lightly, she relaxed a little. She helped her finish packing, then drove her to the airport.

At the security checkpoint, Sui Yu grabbed her by the collar, pulled her close, and kissed her on the lips. “Don’t forget to miss me! And send me your flight info when you come back—I’ll come pick you up!”

Seeing the affectionate scene, the others from their company quietly turned their eyes away, pretending not to notice. In their hearts, they were puzzled: just a while ago these two seemed like they were on the brink of divorce, and now they were acting like lovebirds. Who could understand their relationship?

“Alright, I get it. Drive safely on your way back,” Shen Jueshu said, a little embarrassed by the public display of affection.

“Mm-hmm. Safe travels,” Sui Yu replied with a smile, completely unfazed. She had seen couples act even more lovey-dovey at airports—this was nothing out of the ordinary.

After watching Shen Jueshu pass through security, Sui Yu finally turned and headed to her car. But the moment she got in, something felt off. Her expression darkened slightly. Without showing any emotion, she started the engine and drove away.

On the highway, her car picked up speed. Since it wasn’t a holiday, the roads were clear, which made it easier for her to accelerate—fast. Almost dangerously fast. At this speed, even the slightest mistake with the steering wheel could send the car out of control.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. Her bodyguards were following behind. Then, with her left hand, she pressed a few buttons on the side panel. Suddenly, she jerked the steering wheel hard. The tires screeched against the asphalt, leaving deep black skid marks.

The car shook violently. Even though Sui Yu was strapped in securely, she was still tossed around—let alone the loose items in the car.

The door was already open. In the middle of the chaos, a man’s angry voice shouted from the backseat, and a hand reached forward, trying to grab her. Without hesitation, Sui Yu swerved again. The man in the back was thrown to the side—half his body hanging out of the car. The cold winter wind rushed in through the open door, but instead of fear, Sui Yu felt a surge of excitement.

Her bodyguards had clearly noticed something was wrong. They began speeding up to catch up to her.

The roar of her engine echoed loudly on the empty road. Other drivers, seeing what was happening, either sped away or pulled over to avoid getting involved.

The man hanging halfway out of the car clung tightly to the passenger seat and kept cursing loudly. His voice rang in Sui Yu’s ears, but she just smiled coldly. She stopped dodging and drove straight toward the highway guardrail.

The man panicked. He was barely holding on as it was, and now she was about to crash the car at full speed?

With a grunt, he let go of the seat. His body was immediately flung out of the vehicle. He hit the ground and rolled, smearing blood across the road. But instead of staying down, his entire body suddenly vanished—leaving only the trail of blood behind, bright red against the gray pavement.

Sui Yu slammed on the brakes. Behind her, the bodyguard vehicles came to screeching halts as well, surrounding the bloody spot tightly.

She had seen the whole thing in her rearview mirror. Her face was grim. As she looked at her bodyguards, she could see they were just as shocked.

Lowering her gaze, she said calmly, “Call it in. Block off this section of the road. Have all other cars rerouted.”

Her voice was so steady that it snapped her guards back to attention. They quickly pulled out their phones and began to carry out her orders.

Sui Yu closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Contact the police. I’ll explain the situation later—they don’t need to come right now. And anyone who saw what happened—make sure they stay quiet. I don’t want this incident spreading.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the guards responded immediately and split up to take action.

Sui Yu narrowed her eyes. After everything I’ve been through—even escaping death—did they really think I wouldn’t be on my guard?

She took a gun from one of her guards, attached a silencer, and began firing around the area. Each bullet left a hole in the pavement, but none hit a target.

She frowned slightly. Was that man invisible? Or had he teleported somewhere else—like in those cultivation stories?

One of the guards, still shaken by what he saw, couldn’t help but ask, “President Sui… what was that just now?”

They had kept a close eye on her car. No one saw anyone get in—yet a person had clearly been there.

Sui Yu paused, then replied, “It was an invisibility suit. Once someone puts it on, they become completely invisible.”

The guards looked uncertain, but since it came from Sui Yu herself, they could only accept it. After all, that person had clearly been targeting her.

Sui Yu didn’t care if they believed her or not. Right now, her mind was on Shen Jueshu.

Those people clearly waited for us to separate before making their move!

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