Did Scumbag A Get Divorced Today? - Chapter 66.2

Looking up and seeing Shen Jueshu standing in the doorway waiting for her, Sui Yu’s eyes crinkled into a smile. Her face lit up with joy, as bright and sincere as a golden retriever spotting its favorite person—tail wagging in pure delight.

The other lab members, watching their boss act like this, were caught between feeling deeply moved by their affectionate relationship—and completely thrown off. Even after all this time, they still couldn’t quite get used to seeing Sui Yu like that.

How on earth did someone with that loyal puppy demeanor still count as a proper Alpha? No wonder those rumors flying around outside were so ridiculous.

After telling them to clock out early and go home, Sui Yu went to change her clothes. When she returned, she hurried over and took Shen Jueshu’s hand. Her voice lowered slightly as she asked,
“Is everything in place?”

“Mm.” Shen Jueshu gave a soft hum in response, walking with her toward the lab’s exit.

If they wanted the Traveler Association to truly believe that Sui Yu was dead, everything had to be airtight—and someone credible had to deliver the news. The only suitable person for the job was Fu Xin.

Sui Yu laid out her plan for Fu Xin and told her exactly what she needed to do.

“The President only ordered me to bring you back alive. I don’t have permission to terminate you,” Fu Xin replied, looking uneasy.

Sui Yu cast her a cool glance.
“Then just say we got into a violent fight. The injuries all over your body should be enough evidence, no?”

“If they ask why you didn’t bring back my body, say my wife arrived just in time, and you were intercepted before you could.”

Fu Xin: “……”

Could she say no at this point? Not really. Even if she wanted to, she didn’t have the right to refuse.

Gritting her teeth, she nodded. Life or death—it all hinged on who came out on top.

Once everything was arranged, it was time to commit to the act. Before leaving, Sui Yu even took the opportunity to wring one last favor out of Fu Xin: a drug that could simulate death, just in case her acting wasn’t convincing enough under public scrutiny.

After all, she was a researcher, not an actress.

Fu Xin: “……”
Luckily, that particular item didn’t cost too many points.

With everything set, Fu Xin entered a restaurant in disguise. Not long after, Sui Yu followed. Soon, the waitstaff outside heard a loud commotion from inside the private room. When someone tried to check, they found the door locked. As they rushed off to find security, Shen Jueshu arrived—with people in tow.

Her face was grim as she ordered her bodyguards to kick the door down.

The moment the door burst open, the strong stench of blood filled the air.

Sui Yu was lying motionless on the floor, drenched in blood, her face pale as paper—completely still, like a corpse.

The servers were so shocked, they froze on the spot. None of them registered that the room, which had held two people, now only had one.

Even though she knew it was all fake, Shen Jueshu’s chest tightened painfully at the sight. The terror of losing Sui Yu came rushing in like a tidal wave.

Staggering forward, she fell to her knees and pulled Sui Yu into her arms. Her eyes were bloodshot, tears silently slipping down her cheeks.

No more acting.
Never again.
Even if it was fake, she couldn’t handle seeing something like this.

She’d already experienced the fear of losing Sui Yu far too many times.

Many bystanders witnessed this moment: the always-composed, proud Shen Jueshu completely breaking down, clinging to Sui Yu like a desperate beast. And Sui Yu—the infamous flirt and cold-hearted Alpha known throughout Linhai—was now covered in blood, deathly pale, and carried away on a stretcher like a fallen warrior.

The incident created a huge stir.

Given Sui Yu’s identity, nearly everyone of influence in Linhai City was calling for updates. But no one had the energy to deal with those calls. Every line was either unanswered or gave vague, ambiguous responses.

Shen Jueshu personally brought Sui Yu to their private hospital. The moment they “wheeled” her into the operating room for show, she pulled out alcohol wipes and began carefully cleaning the blood off Sui Yu’s body. She cut away the bloodied clothes and replaced them with a patient gown.

“Cough… I’m fine. It’s all fake,” Sui Yu’s voice was low and a little hoarse.
She’d taken the fake-death drug to make it look more realistic and had completely blacked out. When she woke, Shen Jueshu’s red-rimmed eyes were the first thing she saw—clearly shaken.

Shen Jueshu didn’t respond.

She just continued gently wiping away the remaining blood. Only after she was sure every trace was gone did she finally raise her eyes to Sui Yu. She placed a hand on her cheek, slowly stroking it, feeling the warmth return to her skin.

Earlier, when she touched Sui Yu’s ice-cold body… her own heart had nearly stopped.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Shen Jueshu said quietly.

The words were soft, but Sui Yu could hear the tremble in her voice.

Her nose stung. She wrapped her arms tightly around Shen Jueshu and whispered,
“Never again—I promise.”

She didn’t want to see that look on Shen Jueshu’s face ever again.
She just wanted her to keep smiling, happy and at ease.

—

Meanwhile, the doctors and nurses had all huddled into a corner, backs turned to the pair. But the operating room was only so big. Even if they tried their best to block things out… ears weren’t something you could just switch off.

So now and then, a few bits of the conversation slipped through.

Eventually, they exchanged glances—and silently covered their ears, standing there like a bunch of white-coated ducks, so awkward it was almost comical.

When Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu finally calmed down and noticed the group huddled in the corner, they couldn’t help but laugh.

Sui Yu muttered, “If we don’t give them a raise after this… that’d just be inhumane.”

Where else could you find someone so committed to their role?!

“Mm, raise their salaries,” Shen Jueshu said with a soft laugh.

Unfortunately, the “ducks-in-lab-coats” still had their ears covered and didn’t hear a word of that. So when payday came and they saw their accounts credited, they genuinely thought accounting had made a mistake. It wasn’t until they saw their pay stubs that they finally understood what had happened.

Next, a hidden door in the operating room opened, and a woman with a build and height very similar to Sui Yu stepped out. Shen Jueshu instructed Sui Yu to sneak home first while she stayed to act out the rest of the plan.

The substitute calmly lay down on the stretcher. After waiting a while to let time pass, Shen Jueshu turned to signal the others to resume the scene—only to find they still had their ears covered and hadn’t heard a thing.

Shen Jueshu: “……”

Before she could go over, the woman playing Sui Yu casually got up and tapped the others on the shoulder. Caught completely off guard, they jumped up on the spot in fright, creating a scene so comically absurd it was hard to describe.

Shen Jueshu: “……”

Whatever. They’re still her people, after all.

The next part of the performance went smoothly. The substitute was covered with a white sheet and wheeled out, while Shen Jueshu followed closely behind.

Technically, Shen Jueshu shouldn’t have been allowed inside the OR, but with her status, no one dared question it. So no one found it strange.

Sui Yu, “deceased” and covered with a white cloth, was pushed out after a suspiciously short time in surgery. Naturally, that didn’t bode well for her condition.

She was moved to a hospital room, and the moment the door closed, the woman on the bed jumped up without a word, slipped through another hidden door, and switched places with the real Sui Yu.

“You’re still here?” Shen Jueshu asked, a little exasperated. The whole point of the switch was to get Sui Yu safely out of the hospital—but here she was, still waiting.

“I wanted to see you again,” Sui Yu replied softly, taking her hand.

Shen Jueshu sighed helplessly.
“If that’s the case, there was no point in switching at all.”

All that effort, wasted.

Sui Yu blinked and gave her an innocent smile.

Seeing her look so sweet and obedient, Shen Jueshu couldn’t help but laugh under her breath.

Next, Shen Jueshu had to play the role of a grieving, obsessive partner—someone who refused to believe the death report, who wouldn’t let go of her wife’s body, insisting on taking it home herself. But the act had to be realistic, so her parents stepped in to stop her. The body would be cremated. No official announcement would be made to the public, but the information would quietly reach the Traveler Association.

As it happened, Shen’s parents had just arrived.

Because of their age, neither Sui Yu nor Shen Jueshu dared to shock them too badly—so they had been briefed in advance. Though they didn’t entirely understand why such a thing had to be done, they chose to trust their daughter without question.

As long as she wanted to do something, they would support her.

Seeing Sui Yu alive and energetic in front of them, her lively presence in stark contrast to the lifeless photo they had seen earlier, was enough for them.

As long as she was really safe, that was all that mattered.

“Mom, Dad,” Sui Yu said cheerfully, “you’ve got to act well—don’t blow our cover!”

Father Shen gave her a side-eye and rolled his eyes.
Though he’d come to accept how sincerely Sui Yu cared for his daughter, he still couldn’t stomach how un-Alphalike she was. Always flopping into Jueshu’s arms and acting spoiled—was that really what an Alpha should be?

His daughter wasn’t someone just anyone could snuggle up to whenever they wanted!

“You’ve got nothing to worry about!” Mother Shen declared with confidence.
“I’ve practiced plenty of scenes with Siyue!”

Jiang Siyue, Shen Jueshu’s friend, often came to her for help when she needed a scene partner—and Shen’s mom was always happy to oblige.

At the mention of Siyue, Sui Yu and Shen Jueshu exchanged glances, their expressions slightly helpless.

They hadn’t told Siyue the truth—after all, the fewer people who knew, the better. Unlike Shen’s parents, Siyue and the others were young enough to handle a scare or two. So… it was time to test the strength of their hearts.

Morally speaking… it was kind of questionable.

But the aftermath was handled flawlessly by Shen Jueshu. Every detail was meticulously planned.

Two days later, she returned home clutching a small urn, looking utterly broken. For the next full week, she didn’t step outside and refused to see anyone. Observers began to speculate—had Sui Yu really died?

But no one had a clear answer. Even those who whispered in suspicion didn’t dare say the word “dead” aloud.

—

Backtracking to the day of Sui Yu’s “accident.”

Fu Xin, covered in injuries with her wounds already torn open and bleeding steadily, used her spatial ability to return to the villa on the outskirts of town.

The other Travelers were stunned when they saw her battered state and rushed to support her as she staggered inside.

“What the hell happened to you?!”

Fu Xin coughed harshly, her voice thick with fury.
“That damned Sui Yu!”

And this anger—was entirely real.

“Sui Yu?” someone repeated, clearly surprised, but helped guide her to the President anyway.

When the President saw Fu Xin’s condition, her brows drew together in displeasure.
“You look like that and still didn’t take a pill?”

Fu Xin knelt on the floor, trembling, her voice small and low.
“I… didn’t have enough points.”

“Useless,” the woman snapped, her voice icy.
“What have you even been doing? You can’t even afford a basic recovery drug?”

Fu Xin’s heart clenched in shame. When A-Jing handed her a pill, she didn’t reach for it immediately. Instead, she whispered, trembling violently:
“President… I… I failed. I accidentally killed Sui Yu.”

“…What?”
The President’s eyes lit up with cold fire, her stare razor-sharp.
“Say that again.”

Fu Xin prostrated herself fully on the ground, her voice still shaking:
“I accidentally killed Sui Yu.”

The next moment—

“Ah—!”

Her body was flung through the air like a ragdoll. Blinding pain exploded in her shoulder, and she spat up several mouthfuls of blood as she crashed to the ground, completely motionless.

The President’s voice rang out chillingly close to her ear:
“Have you forgotten what I told you?”

“Cough… cough—”
With each cough, more blood spilled from her lips. The sheer force behind that strike was terrifying.

“I-I didn’t dare, but… she figured out I was impersonating someone…”
She began reciting the speech she had practiced countless times in her head. Her tone was one of disbelief, like she herself couldn’t fathom that their plan had been exposed by Sui Yu.

“You said you got into a fight?” the President asked, narrowing her eyes.
“And you expect me to believe you lost? Look at you. If you fought her—how did Sui Yu overpower you?”

“P-President… I’m currently an Omega,” Fu Xin coughed weakly.
“Sui Yu is a top-tier Alpha… her pheromones suppressed me completely. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be this badly hurt.”

When the Travelers entered a host body, those who were cooperative would be given a chance to negotiate terms. The original soul would be transferred to another world to live a new life. As for the uncooperative ones—well, their consciousness would be erased.

The body the President currently inhabited? Its original owner hadn’t even been given the chance to “cooperate” before being erased.

When seeking the ideal match, she had chosen someone who not only bore the same name—Fu Xin—but also had a suitable build. The only downside? The host was an Omega.

Upon hearing Fu Xin’s explanation, the woman let out a soft, mocking laugh.
“Pathetic. You couldn’t even resist a bit of pheromone suppression?”

Fu Xin lowered her head, ashamed—but secretly relieved. It seemed the President’s fury had started to cool.

“You’re certain she’s dead?” the woman asked, simultaneously ordering her system to scan for Sui Yu’s status.

“One hundred percent,” Fu Xin replied. “I stabbed her straight through the carotid with a steak knife. There’s no way she survived…”

The woman’s expression darkened as the system confirmed: there were no remaining life signals registered for Sui Yu.

“She’s really dead?” The President let out a cold laugh.
“That’s far too easy. I had so many lovely methods I never even got to use.”

Fu Xin kept her head low and remained silent.

The woman stood and glanced at A-Jing. Without a word, A-Jing stepped forward and forced Fu Xin’s mouth open, stuffing the recovery pill inside. The drug acted quickly—her wounds visibly knitting together before their eyes. But none of them reacted. They’d seen this kind of thing too many times before.

“Just wait a little longer,” the woman said coldly, though her eyes held a glint of nostalgia.
“Soon… it’ll all be over.”

She was determined—determined to make it happen willingly.

After waiting this long, what was a little more time?

—

Ironically, their patience turned into a kind of blessing for Sui Yu.

These past days had been pure bliss.

To outsiders, it looked like Shen Jueshu was grieving in isolation—so heartbroken that she refused to leave the house. But in reality, the two of them were living in shameless indulgence.

One might even call it debauchery.

There was no need to get up early, no work obligations, no one else around. Just the two of them, completely content.

Of course, Sui Yu’s movements were restricted to the basement. They couldn’t risk anyone spotting signs that another person was living in the house.

Especially since the housekeeper still dropped by regularly to prepare meals. Any extra noise, utensils, or footsteps could tip her off. So from the moment they got home, Sui Yu had obediently made the basement her domain—and never left.

As for the housekeeper, she was told to simply cook and leave. No cleaning, no lingering, no questions.

By now, the “play” had gone on for long enough that the two of them were almost used to this odd domestic setup. But then again, neither of them had ever been the type to enjoy crowded places.

Just having each other was enough.

They were both the kind of people who could spend eternity alone without complaint. Add in the presence of a beloved partner, and that solitude became comfort—not burden.

Especially when that partner was an overly clingy, tail-wagging puppy of a person—well, the happiness simply multiplied.

Shen Jueshu glanced over at Sui Yu, who was practically wagging her imaginary tail again, and arched a brow.
“You really are getting more and more outrageous lately.”

Apparently, all the recent “training” had strengthened Sui Yu’s stamina. She was lasting longer and longer—so much so that she looked downright proud, practically floating with joy. Any chance she got, she’d drag Shen Jueshu into “exercise.”

“Whaaat? No way,” Sui Yu replied, feigning humility.
But her sparkling eyes and smug little smile said otherwise. She was clearly proud of her progress.

Shen Jueshu narrowed her eyes.
So this is what happens when you let a little dog win a few rounds. She gets cocky.

This girl needed a reminder—not to get too full of herself.

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