Did Scumbag A Get Divorced Today? - Chapter 67.1

Sui Yu remained blissfully unaware of the approaching danger. At this moment, she was brimming with confidence—perhaps a little too much. She actually believed she had mastered some high-level techniques!

Watching her completely oblivious puppy, Shen Jueshu’s smile deepened. Her gaze drifted toward the bathroom, idly wondering… would a drenched little dog be even more endearing?

Later, when the bath-steamed puppy looked up at her with misty, flushed eyes, pitiful and glassy with heat, Shen Jueshu’s lips curled even more. She reached out to gently stroke her head, smoothing down her hair.

As expected, a soaked little puppy only made her want to devour her even more.

Afterward, the two lay together in bed, Shen Jueshu’s fingers trailing gently over Sui Yu’s brow. The tip of her pinky traced a line of moisture from the corner of her eye. Shen Jueshu chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss the damp lashes, whispering teasingly,
“Shouldn’t I be the one who’s exhausted? Why are you the one who won’t move?”

Wasn’t every part of the later action practically carried by her?

Sui Yu grumbled faintly, nuzzling deeper into Shen Jueshu’s arms. She pouted but didn’t answer. She knew it was embarrassing. But in the moment… her mind had been stretched taut. How could she possibly relax?

Seeing her like that, Shen Jueshu let the teasing go. She was pretty tired herself, after all.
“Go to sleep,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Sui Yu.

After a week of putting on their “mourning” act, it was finally time to return to work. If she continued playing the devastated widow, it’d start to look suspicious—too far out of character.

Maybe they were just that exhausted, but they ended up sleeping straight through to noon the next day. After lunch, Sui Yu stayed in the basement, waiting for Shen Jueshu, while the latter cleaned up and headed off to the company in the afternoon.

Her sudden appearance caught everyone off guard. Even Qin Qing froze when she saw her. It wasn’t until Shen Jueshu shot her a look that she finally snapped out of it and rushed over to report on work progress.

Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, Qin Qing thought something was different today.

Was it her imagination, or did Shen always-cold President Shen actually have… a glow to her? Her skin looked especially fair, almost flushed. And yet, her expression and aura were as icy as ever—maybe even more unapproachable than before.

It was completely contradictory.

“Bring me the documents on the SJ project,” Shen Jueshu said indifferently.

“Yes, right away.” Qin Qing hurried off to fetch them.

The moment she left, Shen Jueshu felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. She touched her face with her cool fingertips, trying to bring the heat down. She’d noticed Qin Qing’s curious gaze lingering a little too long.

With a sigh, she pulled out a compact and added another layer of foundation to cover the blush. It came off a bit heavy—but under the circumstances, no one would question it. They’d probably just assume she was trying to cover up a sickly complexion.

Thankfully, not a single person dared to ask about Sui Yu.

Word had gotten around that President Shen had finally emerged after days of isolation. Not long after, Li Jiang arrived at the Suìhé building with Jiang Siyue in tow.

After many days, they finally saw Shen Jueshu again. She was seated, cold-faced, going over paperwork, and hadn’t spared them even a glance.

Seeing her like this, the two exchanged a look—uncertain how to feel.

She didn’t seem gaunt or sickly, so maybe she was doing fine… but the aura she gave off was absolutely frigid. So cold it made them hesitant to even breathe too loudly.

They didn’t say anything. They just sat nearby, quietly watching her work.

They wanted to ask about Sui Yu—but the words got stuck in their throats. Was it fear of the answer? Or fear of breaking the delicate silence?

It wasn’t until Shen Jueshu finished her tasks and looked up that she acknowledged them. Her gaze was blank and distant as she asked flatly,
“What are you doing here?”

At that, Jiang Siyue’s eyes instantly turned red. Her voice wavered as she asked,
“Sister-in-law… how’s A-Yu?”

The word “sister-in-law” made Shen Jueshu’s pupils’ contract ever so slightly. A beat later, her expression darkened.

“She’s fine,” she said quietly.

“Can I see Ayu? Just once?” Jiang Siyue pleaded, her voice soft and trembling. She had been anxious ever since the incident, completely unable to focus on work.

“She’s fine,” Shen Jueshu said, her tone cold but steady. “She just needs to rest. Once she recovers, you’ll see her.”

Jiang Siyue’s tears fell instantly. The photo of Ayu that had circulated was horrifying—she looked so badly injured. Could someone really survive that?

Li Jiang pulled her into an embrace, gently rubbing her back. She looked up at Shen Jueshu and said quietly,
“Since she’s recovering, make sure you take care of yourself too. Don’t wear yourself down.”

After a long pause, Shen Jueshu finally responded with a soft “Mm.”

Maybe sensing that Shen Jueshu needed space, Li Jiang led Jiang Siyue out without asking anything more.

Shen Jueshu turned toward the window, looking out at the clear blue sky and soft white clouds. She let out a quiet sigh. After checking the time, she began to pack up for the day.

She had only arrived that afternoon, and now she was leaving early. But no one dared question her. As they watched her walk out, the company staff began whispering among themselves—still wondering what had really happened to Ayu.

After leaving the office, Shen Jueshu headed straight home. She knew full well she was being watched, so she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

In a way, this whole “fake death” operation had its perks. She’d finally gotten a taste of waking up whenever she wanted, going to work late, and leaving early—without any guilt.

But as soon as she stepped into the house, her expression changed.

Something felt… off.

She immediately sat down on the couch and opened her phone to check the surveillance footage she’d set up before leaving. Her expression darkened as she watched.

About an hour after she left, a man suddenly appeared in the living room. Shen Jueshu recognized him from the files—he was the same man Ayu had run into on her way to the airport.

He wandered through the house like he knew it well, checking room after room. When he finally found the urn on the nightstand in the bedroom, he gave a satisfied smile—then vanished.

He had come to confirm whether Ayu was really dead.

But what unsettled Shen Jueshu most was how familiar he was with the layout of the house. Too familiar. Her expression tightened.

The basement can’t be used anymore.

The Travelers must know the original plot of the story. Even though that man hadn’t checked the basement this time, who’s to say he wouldn’t come back to search again?

She hadn’t thought they’d go so far as to break into the house just to confirm it—and that lapse in judgment now made her uneasy.

She went straight to the basement.

There, Ayu was lounging on the couch, watching a movie, happily munching on chips—completely carefree. Despite everything, Shen Jueshu’s tense nerves relaxed just a little at the sight of her.

She walked over and shared everything she had just seen on the surveillance footage.

Ayu frowned and gently placed her hand over Shen Jueshu’s.
“Don’t panic. Maybe we don’t need to leave yet.”

She explained her reasoning: If they moved suddenly now, it would raise suspicion—especially if Ayu somehow came with her. The intruder had already checked the house and found the urn. From their perspective, Ayu was dead. That made this place safer than anywhere else.

Shen Jueshu frowned slightly. She knew Ayu was right. But the thought that the basement could be compromised still made her nervous.

“Don’t worry,” Ayu said softly, wrapping her arms around her.
“You’re just worried about me too much.”

Shen Jueshu took a deep breath, letting Ayu hold her. The warmth of her presence, the familiar scent—calmed her like nothing else.

“I’m not planning to stay hidden down here forever,” Ayu added in a quiet voice.
“I won’t let you deal with everything alone.”

She had already made arrangements with Uncle Li and got something that could change her appearance completely. If the President could disguise herself, then so could she.

Shen Jueshu hugged her tighter.
More than anything, she just wanted the two of them to make it through this—together.

—

In the days that followed, life settled into a strange calm.

After the Travelers confirmed Ayu’s “death,” nothing strange happened again. Even Qi Siyu completely disappeared from their sight, as if she had vanished without a trace.

“She’s surprisingly patient,” Shen Jueshu said with a cold tone. “Looks like she knows now’s not the right time to make a move. So she’s waiting—waiting for me to ‘move on’ from Ayu before trying to sneak in?”

“Then we can’t be the ones to lose our cool first,” Ayu replied, handing her a cup of warm milk.

Right now, Ayu looked nothing like she used to. She appeared like a soft, delicate Omega. If you didn’t know better, you’d never believe this was actually Sui Yu. She was now posing as a newly hired assistant.

Shen Jueshu glanced at her unfamiliar face. Even though she’d seen it for days now, she still couldn’t get used to it.

Noticing her gaze, Ayu reached up and touched her cheek.
“Still don’t like it?”

Lately, Shen Jueshu had been pushing her away more than once—sometimes even covering her face with a hand.

Shen Jueshu nodded. “It’s not a good look.”

She still preferred Ayu’s real face—the one that made her want to kiss her between the brows the second she saw her.

Ayu blinked, a little hurt. She touched her face again, clearly confused. This face wasn’t stunning, sure, but it was at least nice-looking, wasn’t it?

She let out a soft sigh. “Just bear with it. I’ll change back once we’re home.”

If she dared keep this face on in bed again, she was pretty sure Shen Jueshu really would kick her off the bed.

She had, after all, experienced that once before.

Another month quietly passed.

By now, hardly anyone brought up Ayu’s name anymore. It seemed everyone had silently accepted that she was gone. Everyone—except Shen Jueshu, who stubbornly insisted she wasn’t.

Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, the company’s front desk began receiving massive bouquets of fresh flowers. Each morning, as employees walked through the entrance, the scent of blooms filled the air.

When Shen Jueshu passed the front desk as usual, calm and expressionless, the receptionist called out carefully,
“President Shen, these flowers are for you.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at the receptionist. Her voice was cold and sharp.
“Who did you say they’re for?”

The receptionist froze. Her heart was pounding, but she remembered the money—someone had wired her a large amount just yesterday, asking her to do one thing: give a bouquet to President Shen.

She swallowed hard and said,
“They’re… for you, President Shen.”

None of the flower deliveries had names. People were already used to the floral scent by now. But yesterday, her account had suddenly received a big transfer, with only one instruction: give a specific bouquet directly to Shen Jueshu.

She’d been tempted. After all, Ayu was gone, wasn’t she? Surely President Shen wouldn’t reject everyone forever?

Behind her, Ayu stood silently. Her brows furrowed when she heard the receptionist’s words, but she didn’t speak.

Shen Jueshu stared at the receptionist. Her voice turned colder.
“Didn’t I say before that any flowers sent to me should be returned—no exceptions?”

The receptionist’s face turned pale. So President Shen still hadn’t accepted anyone’s advances?

“You can go to Finance and collect your final paycheck,” Shen Jueshu said bluntly. Then, without another word, she walked toward the elevator. Ayu followed right behind her, leaving the others stunned.

The receptionist looked like she was about to cry.

And everyone else? They were quietly in awe.

President Shen really loved President Sui.

Even after everything, she still stayed faithful.

Those with sharp senses could still detect Sui Yu’s scent on her. That meant Shen Jueshu hadn’t washed away Ayu’s pheromone mark.

For an Alpha, not cleaning off their mate’s mark after they’ve “died” was almost unheard of. Did she plan to never be comforted again during her heat cycles? Or—was it possible Ayu wasn’t really dead?

—

Back in the office, as soon as the door shut, Ayu immediately pouted and gave her an accusing look.
“I bet it was that annoying Qi Siyu again!”

Shen Jueshu laughed softly. She reached out to gently pinch Ayu’s lips.
“So what if it was? You don’t exactly have the right to claim me right now, do you? Not with this face.”

Sui Yu felt as if an arrow had struck her straight in the chest. Right now, she truly had no official status that allowed her to claim any kind of right over Shen Jueshu.

She let out a soft hum, just enough to show her displeasure.

But Shen Jueshu didn’t care at all. She simply pulled out her chair and sat down, quickly immersing herself in her work.

Completely useless to the situation, Sui Yu could only sit there, silent: “…”

She quietly found a seat and sat down, doing her best to look like a proper personal assistant.

Thankfully, everyone believed she was an Omega now. Otherwise, who knows what kind of rumors would be flying around about the two of them?

Late in the morning, there was a knock at the door.

As soon as she heard it, Sui Yu quickly put away her phone, picked up Shen Jueshu’s water cup, drank the rest in one gulp, and pretended to go refill it—looking every bit the dutiful assistant.

“Come in,” Shen Jueshu said coldly. But looking at Sui Yu’s gentle figure from behind, the tone felt oddly softened.

Support