Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 15

This entire development was absurd—almost surreal.

Even for the two staff members from the research institute, it felt like something out of a fantasy.

Zhu Sui presented her military ID—her serial number matched the official appointment announcement.

The atmosphere instantly turned awkward.

What had just been “our research institute’s decision” suddenly became “the Adrenaline Department’s issue.”

Ah… right.

Before the two staffers could speak again, Zhu Sui took the lead.

“Who sent you here? Who insisted that the data and medication be sealed today? Did anyone even notify you properly? This is my department—surely I have the right to intervene?”

Not just the right—at this point, everything was under her jurisdiction!

The two staff members exchanged wide-eyed glances. The sharper one quickly softened his tone, almost groveling,

“Well, the lab’s not the only one that’s been shut down this year. We’re just following standard procedure. Before we left, we did check with the project team—someone from their side said to remove the meds and files today…”

“‘Someone’? Dr. Cheng?” Zhu Sui asked sharply.

Clearly, they hadn’t expected Zhu Sui to know Cheng Lang’s name. But thinking about it, it was natural—she’d just been transferred into the department. Doing some homework would be expected. So they answered honestly,

“Not Dr. Cheng herself—it was her deputy, Professor Chen.”

Zhu Sui nodded. Then she added calmly,

“You were just following protocol, and that’s fine. But since the issue came from inside the department, let’s not make it harder than it needs to be. Why don’t you call Professor Chen—I’ll speak to her directly.”

They were just executors, after all. Now that the department head had arrived and offered to handle it internally, all the better.

The two of them quickly dialed the number and began explaining the situation. As soon as they mentioned Zhu Sui’s arrival, she reached out—

Before they could even react, she’d already taken the phone and put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Professor Chen from the Adrenaline Department? This is regarding a patient who came to the lab today. She’s Miss Ning from the Fifth Military District—yes, that Ning family. She’s pregnant and not feeling well.

Professor Song needs to prepare a stabilizer for her to prevent pheromone imbalance. And you ordered your staff to seal off the meds and data today?” Her voice turned cold.

“Do you know that intentionally causing a miscarriage in a pregnant woman carries a minimum three-year sentence under military law?”

Whatever the person on the other end said, Zhu Sui didn’t waver. Her tone remained razor-sharp.

“I don’t want excuses. This is a matter of life and death. I just want to know: who’s going to take responsibility?”

“Send me the personnel ID of whoever made the decision. An apology isn’t going to help you now. You’d better pray Miss Ning makes it through today safely. That’s all. We’ll talk again once I’m back at the department.”

She hung up.

The two staffers looked completely dumbfounded.

Zhu Sui handed the phone back to them. The whole room was silent—everyone stunned by her commanding presence.

Only in the corner did Miss Ning suddenly cry out, clutching her head,

“Professor Song—it’s happening again!”

The focus shifted in an instant.

With the patient in distress, Song Zhen and Zuo Tian immediately sprang into action. Zhu Sui, sensing the tension, ushered the others outside to give them space.

The two staff members briefly explained the situation outside, left the official termination notice for Song Zhen to sign, and then left—without daring to look back.

Once Miss Ning’s condition stabilized, Song Zhen carefully reviewed her vitals and gave her post-visit instructions. Miss Ning thanked her profusely and, before leaving, said earnestly,

“Professor Song, if you ever need help, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Song Zhen just smiled in response.

After she was gone, Song Zhen turned to Zuo Tian and, not hiding anything, revealed that she’d gotten divorced.

Zuo Tian was utterly stunned.

Song Zhen said lightly, “Let’s leave personal matters for later. As for the project upgrade and lab shutdown—those came from the military district with official documentation. Round up the team. I’ll hold a meeting.”

Her voice lowered a little.

“Everyone’s talented. For those who want to stay on, I’ll take you with me, whether the lab is reinstated or not. For those considering other opportunities, it’s better to start planning now. No hard feelings.”

The meeting lasted the entire afternoon.

As she left, Zhu Sui carried the lab’s monthly reports, from its founding up to the present.

Song Zhen held the termination notice, emotions mixed and tangled.

That evening, Song Zhen organized the data and medications required for the lab’s closure while Zhu Sui reviewed the reports she’d brought back. Occasionally, she asked Song Zhen about things she didn’t understand.

They worked in companionable silence late into the night. Then, after a shower, Song Zhen walked into her bedroom while toweling her hair—

And froze.

There, lying on her bed, was Zhu Sui.

Her mind went blank. She stood there, completely unsure of what to do.

Hearing movement, Zhu Sui looked up. She, too, had showered and was now sitting casually in pajamas, one leg bent, the other stretched out, a book in hand. Her hair was loosely tied up.

With her hair pulled back, her features were more defined—long brows, slender eyes, a straight nose, and sharp jawline. The soft lighting gave her a gentle glow, stripping away the dominance she carried during the day, and somehow making her even more…

Beautiful.

Yes, they had talked about… this. But still…

Song Zhen tensed up instantly.

The air thickened. Zhu Sui raised an eyebrow.

“Is this… too fast?” Song Zhen asked, her voice dry.

“Too fast? What is?”

It took Zhu Sui a second to catch on. When she did, she burst into laughter. Her eyes sparkled in the warm light.

“Oh, jiejie…”

Even Song Zhen, slow as she could be sometimes, realized she’d misunderstood.

Now completely embarrassed.

After a good laugh, Zhu Sui asked, teasingly,

“What, I can’t sleep here?”

“…No, that’s not it,” Song Zhen said awkwardly.

“Then come on. What are you standing there for?” Zhu Sui patted the bed beside her.

Song Zhen hesitated, then steeled herself and walked over.

Only when she got close did she realize—Zhu Sui was just sitting on top of the blanket. She hadn’t even pulled the covers over.

She had overthought it.

Mortified.

With Zhu Sui’s gaze tracking her every move, Song Zhen quickly turned off the light and crawled stiffly into bed, immediately shutting her eyes. If pretending to be clueless didn’t work, maybe she could just pretend to be asleep!

After a moment of silence, she heard a muffled chuckle.

“Jiejie, you’re really not great at faking sleep…”

“…”

Zhu Sui cleared her throat, finally serious.

“I actually came to talk to you about the lab closure. The military district signed off on it. If we want to reverse it, we’ll need to file an appeal—”

“I know,” Song Zhen said, fully awake now. “We’ll need to apply for reinstatement, but the final say lies with the military.”

She paused. “But the project has already been upgraded to S-class. Whether it’s national policy or the lab’s future trajectory… it’s unlikely to be reversed.”

In other words, the shutdown was inevitable.

“Exactly.” Zhu Sui sighed. “But we still need to go through the motions and submit the appeal.”

“Mm.”

Zhu Sui noticed Song Zhen’s composure and asked curiously,

“You’re not going to ask what I plan to do next?”

“You’ll try your best to help me, right?”

“Yes.”

With that confirmation, Song Zhen finally felt at ease. She whispered,

“That’s enough.”

She knew that in their current situation, no promise could be absolute. But for Zhu Sui to say she’d do her best—that was more than enough.

And Zhu Sui, struck by those simple words, felt something soften in her chest. Being trusted like this filled her with quiet joy. She smiled and promised,

“I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve said what I came to say, but there’s one more thing…”

Suddenly, a hand covered Song Zhen’s eyes.

She stilled.

A cool, calming scent filled her breath, and Zhu Sui’s voice drifted into her ear, low and soothing.

“An Omega who’s been marked feels comforted by their Alpha’s pheromones. You’ve been having such bad insomnia. Sleep well tonight, jiejie…”

“I’ll leave once you’re asleep. Just relax…”

“I was reading a fairy tale. Want a bedtime story?”

“How about The Wizard of Oz? A long, long time ago…”

Song Zhen didn’t know exactly when she fell asleep. Maybe it was the moment Zhu Sui’s hand covered her eyes. Maybe it was in the middle of the story.

But one thing was certain—she truly liked Zhu Sui’s pheromones.

And she’d been so, so tired…

When she woke, sunlight was pouring through the window. The room was empty, save for a faint lingering scent of mint.

At that very moment, Zhu Sui had already arrived at the research institute.

Cheng Lang and the project team were waiting.

After a brief round of introductions, Zhu Sui asked Cheng Lang to report in her office.

Cheng Lang had prepared thoroughly. The moment she entered and saw that they shared the same rank, her heart filled with disdain. But outwardly, she remained respectful.

“Major Zhu, this is the project overview. At present…”

Zhu Sui accepted the documents. As Cheng Lang finished her briefing and Zhu Sui prepared to speak, Cheng Lang kept going.

“The current challenge is…”

Just as Zhu Sui opened her mouth again, Cheng Lang steamrolled ahead.

“We currently have this many staff in the lab…”

If Zhu Sui didn’t realize now that Cheng Lang was doing it on purpose, her years in the military had been for nothing.

She raised an eyebrow, watching Cheng Lang speak nonstop. This was getting interesting.

Her every word and tone conveyed complete control over the lab and personnel—might as well have spelled out, “I’m in charge here. Major Zhu, there’s no need for you to worry.”

Tsk. Clearly, she wasn’t happy about the transfer.

Since she couldn’t get a word in edgewise, Zhu Sui gave up trying. She leaned back in her chair, stretched her legs out onto the desk, and folded her arms loosely over her stomach. Just one shift in posture—and the roguish air of a second-generation military brat radiated off her in waves.

Cheng Lang faltered.

But Zhu Sui didn’t stop her—so Cheng Lang kept talking.

Until she suddenly felt a strange pressure in the air, and cold sweat broke out across her back. She couldn’t stay steady.

She finally realized—Zhu Sui had released a subtle wave of pheromonal suppression.

Zhu Sui tilted her head.

“Go on, you were talking about conduction technology? I’m listening.”

“…”

Cheng Lang had no choice but to continue.

By the time she finally stopped, her voice was hoarse.

The pheromones lingering in the air were just enough to make her uncomfortable—but not enough to cross a line.

Only now did Cheng Lang fully realize—this woman was formidable.

As she fell silent, Zhu Sui lowered her legs and lazily asked,

“Dr. Cheng, are you trying to teach me how to do my job?”

“…Of course not!” Cheng Lang forced a laugh.

Zhu Sui smiled—a cold one.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

She rose from her seat and added,

“Please notify everyone. We’ll have a meeting about the lab closure in thirty minutes.”

Cheng Lang’s smile froze as she turned to leave. But Zhu Sui called her back.

She reached into her bag, pulled out her newly issued insignia, and pinned it on in front of Cheng Lang.

“Oh, by the way, Dr. Cheng—I’ve been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. You can call me Lieutenant Colonel Zhu now. Or Department Head Zhu. Whichever you prefer.”

She smiled sweetly.

Cheng Lang smiled too—

But she couldn’t force it this time.