Chapter 66

*Compromise*
Night receded like tide. Only their crossed breath remained—one light and indifferent, pride still leashed even now; the other ragged. Air rushed in. Ears rang. Bai Shuzhou’s words felt from another century, full of wind and cold years.
Then longer, more frightening silence.
They were still too close, still not apart. Zhu Yu knelt in Bai Shuzhou’s arms like a martyr. Choking at her neck had not fully faded. The sapphire on her earlobe burned like coal on numb nerves, dragging her down through the silence.
The shallowest breath at her ear was louder than gale. In the worst pain she could feel Bai Shuzhou’s cold knuckles tightening one by one—she was trembling too. Zhu Yu wanted to cover that hand.
But Bai Shuzhou let go and passed breath with softest lips. Rose scent turned bitter. *Can you drown on shore?*
*Dissolve the contract?*
She had thought of living, of dying—never divorce.
Sudden unwillingness and hate rose. Zhu Yu stared at the face carved from white jade—still as a moon hung high, skin so pale light seemed to leak through, blue veins faint.
Bai Shuzhou said, “Answer me.”
Zhu Yu’s gaze wandered from her lips over nose, lashes. Softly: “Your hair’s messy too.”
“Where would I go if I leave?” Thought was oddly calm. She had been on Imperial Star long enough to know how many eyes watched her—and Bai Shuzhou.
Zhu Yu did not collapse, beg, or rage-agree as expected. This dead-water reaction blocked Bai Shuzhou’s chest. She was used to Zhu Yu’s heat—love or hate—not this, as if nothing mattered.
“That is your freedom.” Bai Shuzhou’s voice stayed cool; listen closely and something pulled tight. Knuckles whitened from pressure. “If you wish, I will ensure you leave Imperial Star and live in peace.”
Pale blue eyes pinned Zhu Yu, refusing to miss a flicker of hesitation.
“Anywhere?” Zhu Yu asked softly.
“Except the Federation.” Official cold: “Remember your status. Even after divorce, the political weight on you does not change. Anything harming the Empire is treason. Royal dignity is not to be insulted.”
*Treason*—each word sharp, linking to the dead end of the original timeline. Zhu Yu laughed silently. “Your Highness—do you still think I’m picking my next buyer?”
“Or that in your heart I’m cheap goods—give enough chips and I’ll do anything, including bed?”
They had been intimate once. The sharpest words must first pierce your own chest.
“Watch your tongue!” Zhu Yu’s black gaze stung. Suppressed rage broke the dam. “I’ve been tolerant enough. I should have killed you…!”
“During the day and night you vanished with that Federation agent—who blocked the other factions’ probes? Me. Who kept you under outside pressure? Me.”
“I trusted you—and this is your explanation!”
Bai Shuzhou raised Nan Gong Xun’s brooch and threw it at Zhu Yu’s face. The girl did not dodge. Sharp edge scraped the corner of her eye; tiny beads of blood rolled—like crimson tears on that stark face, dropping one by one.
She had been hurt enough tonight. This faint sting was nothing next to the pain in her chest. Zhu Yu wiped with the back of her hand, smearing pink on her cheek. Low: “Dare you say you weren’t using me?”
“Even so—you volunteered.” Bai Shuzhou’s thin smile was cold; beauty turned aggressive, rose with thorns, more startling. “Did I seduce you? Did I ever promise you anything? Didn’t I tell you plainly…”
“So it was only my wishful thinking.” Zhu Yu cut her off. She did not want to hear more.
“You keep asking what I want. What I truly want—you can’t give.” She stared straight at Bai Shuzhou—only now daring her plainest heart.
*I want you. Only you.*
Without marking they were never truly together. Zhu Yu could not smell herself on Bai Shuzhou. If they parted, Bai Shuzhou could be with someone else—she never lacked suitors.
The moment she fell in love she was trapped. She lost herself in her rose garden though thorns covered every path.
*I belong to you.*
*But you are not mine.*
Bai Shuzhou always led in feeling—invite or refuse, soothe or wound—always with bone-deep clarity. When pleasure’s mist cleared, only indifferent weariness remained.
Sometimes Zhu Yu wondered if she was not good enough, not enough to satisfy her, which was why desire came so often. After all she was only a D-rank Alpha.
When Bai Shuzhou pressed to the limit she made unbearably beautiful sounds; broken low breath always made Zhu Yu kiss her. Zhu Yu could feel her body had not reached its limit—but often they stopped there.
Each time Zhu Yu needed long cold showers after. Bai Shuzhou only lay weary, clutching the blanket.
Zhu Yu did not know what normal should be—but even cleanup afterward, Bai Shuzhou would not let her touch her again.
Hot and cold by turns—nearly driving Zhu Yu mad. She had no idea what Bai Shuzhou was thinking.
Bai Shuzhou had never been argued down like this. Again she saw Zhu Yu in another woman’s arms, intimate.
*What I can’t give—who else can?*
“Fine. Very fine.” Laughing from rage, Bai Shuzhou pressed her brow; cool voice shook. “Get out. Consider it my poor judgment… mm!”
Before she finished, the always gentle girl seized her wrist with shocking strength and pulled her into an embrace, lips taking her cold thin cruelty. That trace of green softness vanished.
The soft pillow collapsed. They fell together into white, breath slightly choked.
Training from recent days showed for the first time—used on the person she least wanted to hurt. Zhu Yu locked her wrists. The lofty princess had no counter.
One kiss—hate and love mixed. Blood smeared where skin met; red stained the woman’s cool brow, devastating.
Vines softened silently, draping Zhu Yu’s knees. Bai Shuzhou’s supple waist bent in an arc, trembling under warm palms.
This near-violent control shocked pale blue pupils smaller—and after brief sinking, deeper pain showed on Zhu Yu’s face.
*Like this—what difference from the scumbag original?*
*I’m becoming more and more like the “Zhu Yu” in memory.*
*Greedy—not only her body, but her heart…*
Zhu Yu stopped abruptly, buried once more at Bai Shuzhou’s shoulder, hoarse: “Sorry.”
She gathered strength with great effort. Eyes dry and aching, she strode out.
She still clutched the bloodied brooch. Perhaps this was forever.
Beyond the door Zhu Yu slid down the wall. The Academy corridor at deep night was bright as day—fortunately quiet. Any small sound would stab her raw nerves.
Bai Shuzhou did not speak. Did not stop her.
After all, she had said she would let her go.
Inside.
Bai Shuzhou gripped the sheet. Knuckles whitened.
*Zhu Yu—you bastard.* Pale blue eyes blinked fast, trying to force back acid wetness; physiological tears still fell. She bit her lip hard. Cold fingers slipped under the nightgown.
She tried to tidy the mess Zhu Yu left alone. Wide soft quilt hid the proudest princess’s most fragile state. Body sank soft with motion, lifted again by formless want.
Zhu Yu was really gone—only silence and a muddy heart.
*Not enough—not enough at all…!*
Slender neck lifted. Bai Shuzhou had played dying swans on stage countless times—white, elegant. Now she was wretched. Beautiful shoulder blades pressed into soft mattress. She seemed to realize for the first time how soft this bed was—nowhere to brace; restless feeling had nowhere to rest.
“Zhu Yu… Zhu Yu… mm…”
She soothed herself in vain, curled and turned, buried hot cheeks in the pillow, suppressing broken sobs. Cool voice had warped, grainy, escaping her nose.
No release. No strength to release. She was used to this—knew her body well—yet now felt estranged, soul split from flesh.
She bit her knuckles until faint blood taste filled her mouth. Thin golden gauze hung bed-side, swaying without wind.
Suppressed sobs and moans were light as moonlight—then shattered.
She allowed herself to cry aloud for the first time, so undignified, voice small and hoarse.
Sound was tiny, motion only in this snow—like the faint noise when sun appeared and snow melted.
Until a slender shadow blocked her sun. Body reacted before slow thought. Clear sweat rolled into hair. Motion under white quilt stopped. She looked up into black eyes.
Zhu Yu had returned somehow—stood watching unknown how long, hearing her broken calls of her name.
Bai Shuzhou shamefully yanked the quilt tight. Voice hoarse from crying, low scold: “Out—who said you could enter! Why come back?”
“One step closer and I kill you.”
“I came for my things…” Zhu Yu answered equally hoarse.
Her gaze fell on the blood-crystal ring on the bedside—Bai Shuzhou’s first gift to her, removed earlier so it would not cut her.
Staring at corridor lights, letting spots grow—if she truly left, Zhu Yu had felt no joy after long silence.
So she came back—for what belonged to her.
Beautiful eyes wet with tears. Though alone, Bai Shuzhou still hid under quilt, tiny crack showing broken truth.
When Zhu Yu heard, her heart clenched—no desire, only pain and pity.
*At least now Bai Shuzhou likes me, needs me…*
She had used all strength to leave, keep last dignity—but seeing Bai Shuzhou unable to find relief under the quilt, she saw again the first meeting: hiding wretched in a cabinet.
Worse still—
Even then Bai Shuzhou had not cried.
Zhu Yu had once raged hearing someone installed monitors in Bai Shuzhou’s bedroom—yet she had also wanted, basely, to claim sovereignty to whoever hid in the dark.
She had checked with director access and Academy detectors—no trace. That sly fox might have lied. But Bai Shuzhou was truly, terribly alone.
Fingers unbuttoned one by one. Zhu Yu sat down. Ignoring faint resistance, she answered at last the invitation and taking long delayed.
Too chaotic to think. She gave up thinking. What use were answers wrung from the brain?
Meaningless things eased pain and brought joy. That was enough.
She lowered her eyes—black sunk in dark. Cold sapphire stud brushed softest place, flashing where there was no light, edge raising faint red, sharing intimate sting.
Stud through flesh— slightest tremor magnified. Zhu Yu was no longer only gentle. In bone-deep sinking she felt cold fingertips from above, stroking her ear, lingering on that uncanny blue diamond.
Bai Shuzhou stared lost at the sapphire—dazzling in ink-black stray hair, grinding her fingertips sore, pulling thought, reminding undeniable ownership.
Proof she had put on with her own hands.
Deeper falling—take, exchange, fill again—until the room softened into one careful embrace.
Zhu Yu kissed scattered silver hair, gathered strands behind with fingertips, tied gently with her own black hair tie. The spilled galaxy, softly bound.
Bai Shuzhou’s tear-blurred eyes lost focus; she drifted into light sleep. Faint satisfaction and ease at thin lips. She thought Zhu Yu’s sudden understanding and obedience meant compromise and return.
She did not know: after she slept deeply, Zhu Yu propped on elbow, chin in hand, and in the brightening dawn outside the window gazed greedily at her sleeping face for a long, long time.
Her gaze traced fine brows, straight nose, slightly swollen lips. At last, very softly:
“I’ll stay with you—until the day you no longer need me.”