Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 20

After Song Zhen finished speaking, the entire office fell into a silence so deep, a pin drop could be heard.

Cheng Lang’s breathing grew heavier, her fists clenched tightly. Her expression alone betrayed the truth—even if some facts were now undeniable.

One lie always demands another to support it, and Cheng Lang wasn’t foolish enough to keep spinning more. So, she only said:

“There was nothing when the Z-serum project was first proposed. I’ve participated in every step of its development. At no point did I ‘steal another’s scientific achievement.’”

That line…

Director Rong leaned forward slightly. “So, you are admitting that the Z-serum was originally Song Zhen’s idea?”

Cheng Lang stood tall. “I’m not. But it was a joint effort among the three of us back then. If Song Zhen wants to file a claim, let the courts decide.”

In the academic world—and within the research institute—there are clear standards and procedures for determining the originator of a project. Cheng Lang’s answer showed that, at the very least, she wasn’t trying to cover anything up in that regard.

Knowing the outcome wouldn’t become an academic scandal, Director Rong felt a measure of relief. At the same time, a realization began to form.

He turned to Cheng Lang and said, “Song Zhen is an exceptional researcher. Now that the project has been upgraded to S-class, and international regulations require the dissolution of affiliated labs, have you considered integrating her team into the main lab?”

“I haven’t,” Cheng Lang cut in before he could finish.

“The members of the formal lab were carefully selected two years ago from across the country. All of them are top-tier Alphas, with a level of cognitive sharpness I doubt Betas can match.”

Zuo Tian looked at her in disbelief. “Cheng Lang, are you discriminating against Betas?”

“I’m just being objective. Besides, I don’t want the project’s timeline delayed due to team integration issues.”

Zuo Tian stared at her like she was seeing her for the first time. Cheng Lang wasn’t intimidated, but in her peripheral vision, Song Zhen sat quietly, not sparing her even a glance.

Once the silence returned, Song Zhen addressed Director Rong calmly.

“You’ve heard it yourself. Dr. Cheng refuses to take us in. So, I am formally applying to establish a second research team for the Z-serum project. As for the team members, I will confirm and submit the list later.”

“As for the legal action—I stand by it.”

Director Rong glanced at both of them and, seeing neither side willing to compromise, finally nodded.

After a few more words with the director, Song Zhen stood and left with Zuo Tian.

Cheng Lang had remained standing since the meeting began. Even though Director Rong offered her a seat, she never took it—her face grew darker as the discussion wore on.

Song Zhen, meanwhile, didn’t give her another glance before leaving.

As they brushed past each other at the door, Cheng Lang grit her teeth and spat out, “Your lawsuit will never hold up.”

Song Zhen’s long lashes lowered slightly. Without responding, she simply kept walking with Zuo Tian—completely ignoring her.

The indifference stung. Cheng Lang felt a sharp pang, not just of humiliation but of something splintering inside—deep enough to hurt.

—

Outside the Adrenal Gland Department, Zuo Tian looked at Song Zhen with concern. “Zhenzhen, about this lawsuit… I think…”

“You think we’ll lose?”

Zuo Tian didn’t reply, but her silence spoke volumes.

Song Zhen’s complexion was still pale, but she smiled faintly. “I think it’s hard to win too.”

“But that’s not really the point of this.”

Zuo Tian understood instantly. As a researcher herself, she knew the deeper intent and waved her hand, signaling that Song Zhen didn’t need to explain further.

After a pause, she asked about another issue that had been nagging her. “So… you and Cheng Lang…”

She had mentioned it briefly in the lab before, but the past two days had been so hectic, the topic had been left hanging. Now that it was brought up again, Song Zhen sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and went quiet for a moment.

Finally, she said, “Actually, even if all this with Zhu Yi hadn’t happened, I was planning to talk to you soon. But since you asked… no time like the present.”

“Let’s change locations. We’ll talk tonight.”
—

That night, Song Zhen came home even later than Zhu Sui.

She had been drinking—but not excessively. After returning, she didn’t even look at her research notes. Instead, she played some soft music and quietly sat on the sofa to listen.

At first, Zhu Sui wasn’t sure whether she should interrupt.

She didn’t know if Song Zhen wanted to be interrupted.

After finishing the paperwork for setting up the second team and preparing the lawsuit against Cheng Lang, Zhu Sui stepped out—only to find Song Zhen already dozing off lightly on the sofa.

For once, she had fallen asleep without needing Zhu Sui’s pheromones.

Zhu Sui quietly picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. As she adjusted the covers, Song Zhen seemed to stir, her misty eyes locking onto Zhu Sui’s. Something soft unraveled in Zhu Sui’s chest.

Song Zhen smiled faintly, tipsy, and murmured, “Tiantian… do you think people really change so easily? Or was it just that… I never truly saw her clearly?”

As soon as she said it, the smile vanished. She turned away and curled up like a child—small, hurt, and aggrieved.

Zhu Sui had rarely seen her like this. Her heart melted completely.

She let out a long breath and whispered, “Jiejie…”

But the rest of the sentence caught in her throat.

Instead, she tucked in the blankets, gently touched Song Zhen’s cheek to check her temperature, then turned off the lights and softly closed the door behind her.

—

With her recent achievement, Song Zhen’s request and lawsuit were submitted simultaneously. And because Zhu Yi was Director Rong’s daughter-in-law, he fast-tracked the process. The approvals came almost immediately.

Others waited weeks—Song Zhen got hers in days.

As a result, her schedule became even more packed with preparations.

Although Zhu Sui was chief of the Adrenal Department and couldn’t participate in the research itself, she was happy to help organize Song Zhen’s paperwork.

What she saw surprised her.

“You proposed the initial project and developed the first model. Why didn’t you name yourself the founder back then? Why let Cheng Lang take the credit?”

Song Zhen was calm. “At the time, I didn’t expect the Military Medical University to take it so seriously. Later on… you might look down on me for this. But Cheng Lang is an Alpha. Having the project under her name earned us more support than if it had been under two Betas. That was the reality.”

Zhu Sui understood. Back then, they needed the university’s resources—and those were biased toward Alpha- or Omega-led projects.

Thanks to Song Zhen’s thorough prep and Director Rong’s swift processing—and the military court’s usual efficiency—a court date was set in less than two weeks.

Since high-ranking officials from the institute would attend, the project application was postponed until after the trial—just as Song Zhen had anticipated.

But on the eve of the trial, Song Zhen experienced a rare bout of insomnia.

Zhu Sui was sitting beside her on the bed, releasing pheromones. She noticed Song Zhen tossing and turning and softly asked:

“Can’t sleep?”

Song Zhen flushed slightly. “I keep thinking about tomorrow…”

The next second, Zhu Sui leaned closer, inhaling gently at her back. Song Zhen tensed immediately.

“No wonder… your susceptibility period must be over.”

Without it, Song Zhen was no longer reactive to Alpha pheromones, and the usual amount Zhu Sui released wasn’t quite enough to soothe her.

After a pause, Song Zhen touched the back of her neck and murmured, “You’re right. It has passed.”

“Mhm.”

Still… since her first differentiation ended in a marking, the next wave—a full heat—could hit any day now.

Zhu Sui thought it, but didn’t say it.

After a while, when Song Zhen still hadn’t fallen asleep, Zhu Sui sighed and set down her book.

The bedside lamp dimmed.

Then Song Zhen, wrapped in her blanket, was pulled into an embrace.

She froze—then breathed in a wave of concentrated pheromones.

Cool mint. Icy yet comforting. She liked it.

She should like it. She was marked.

“Don’t move,” Zhu Sui murmured into her ear. “My pheromones are S-class. I can’t release too much. Even with air circulation, it could affect the neighbors…”

Her breath brushed Song Zhen’s ear, making it burn.

Zhu Sui hesitated, then added, “There’s something else I haven’t found the right time to tell you…”

Wrapped in that minty scent, Song Zhen was already growing sleepy. Her voice was soft. “What is it?”

Zhu Sui said it plainly: “It’s my fault. That day with the shawl… my sister smelled my pheromones on it and asked about us.”

Song Zhen sobered instantly.

Before she could react, Zhu Sui’s arm tightened, pulling her closer. Her hair tickled Song Zhen’s ear as she whispered:

“Don’t worry. I didn’t say we were married. I just said…”

A teasing breath warmed her ear.

“…that you’re my girlfriend.”