Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 23
It was as if all the strength had been drained from Song Zhen. Whatever was said after that sounded like meaningless static in her ears.
Zuo Tian and Cao Fan quickly noticed her condition and answered most of the questions on her behalf.
Since the institute director had already spoken on the decision, the outcome would not change.
But the logistical details were still numerous and tedious.
“The new lab will be set up under the Adrenaline Department, correct? There are still a few empty labs, but what about equipment?”
Zuo Tian replied, “The equipment from the auxiliary lab is comprehensive. We only need to add one or two machines—everything else can be transferred over.”
“There will only be four people in the new team, correct? Song Zhen, Zuo Tian, Cao Fan, and Chen Ye?”
“Yes, four for now,” Zuo Tian answered. “If we recruit new members later, we’ll go through the proper reporting process.”
“Roughly when can you report to the Adrenaline Department?”
That question made Zuo Tian pause. She looked to Song Zhen, who had been about to say, “Anytime,” but was interrupted by Zhu Sui, who answered casually,
“A week. Lab setups always take about a week. Let’s just call it a week this time, too.”
Though the reply sounded offhanded, Song Zhen caught the intention behind it.
After all, they lived together—Zhu Sui was the one who best understood her current mental state.
A break…
Not a bad idea. She could use this time to handle the setup and treat it as her final bit of rest.
Song Zhen nodded.
Another half hour passed as they documented everything needed to establish the new lab. The vice directors who were close to Cheng Lang had already left. Only Vice President Rong, Director Zhu, and a department head remained.
Song Zhen wasn’t sure why—until a research assistant came to collect the paperwork and Vice President Rong approached her directly.
He had stayed behind to confirm something.
And that something, of course, was the timeline to clinical trials for the Z-serum.
“Professor Song, be honest with me. Will it really only take half a year to complete the Z-serum? Now that Team Two has been approved, there’s no need to force yourself to shorten the timeline. As Vice Director of the First Research Academy, I need a truthful answer.”
In a quiet corner with only the two of them present, Vice President Rong’s expression was solemn.
Song Zhen understood why he was so concerned.
No one across the country wasn’t concerned.
Ever since the base stabilizer was developed by the brilliant scientist Zhuang Qing more than two decades ago, there had been no breakthroughs in prenatal stabilizers—not just in China, but worldwide.
Song Zhen exhaled deeply. Though visibly exhausted, she answered seriously,
“To be honest… I wasn’t telling the full truth about the timeline.”
Vice President Rong’s face showed he had suspected as much.
But Song Zhen’s next words froze his expression.
“I estimate the real time needed is about three months—if everything goes smoothly. But one, my condition hasn’t been great lately, so I’m not sure if that will interfere. And two, I was afraid the Academy would demand a fixed timeline as a precondition for approving the team. So…”
She had downplayed her optimism—just in case she couldn’t live up to it.
Vice President Rong stood stunned for a moment, then suddenly grabbed Song Zhen by the shoulders, disbelief etched across his face.
“You’re serious?”
Song Zhen frowned slightly from the grip, but still replied politely,
“Yes, but I hope you’ll keep this confidential.”
Realizing he’d overstepped, Rong quickly let go. He exchanged a few more excited words with her, and seeing how truly unwell she was, finally took his leave—reluctantly, turning back every few steps.
Director Zhu and the remaining department head had also stayed to ask the same question. But they weren’t Song Zhen’s direct superiors, nor were they as intense as Vice President Rong. So, she simply reiterated the six-month estimate, and left it at that.
Six months was still impressive.
Director Zhu nodded vigorously, praising her as a “formidable young talent” as he departed.
The department head, after receiving her confirmation, bashfully brought up a personal issue: his pregnant wife.
Song Zhen didn’t beat around the bush.
“Our lab will always be open to pregnant women in need. As long as she’s being treated at the Military Medical University, and they can’t resolve her issue, she’s welcome to bring her records to us. If that time comes… we’ll do everything we can.”
The department head had been deeply worried. Now reassured by her promise, he thanked her profusely and left with visible relief.
Many people still wanted to speak with Song Zhen. By the time things quieted down, only the three members of the auxiliary lab—and Zhu Sui—remained.
Cheng Lang had left as soon as the outcome was announced, accompanied by the vice director who supported her.
Zuo Tian, true to her cheerful name, beamed.
“Zhenzhen, you must be exhausted. Now that it’s been approved, let’s go celebrate with dinner!”
Song Zhen had planned to decline. But seeing the expectant faces of her team, and remembering that she was now the head of the lab—the one who had to lead—she hesitated mid-headshake and, a moment later, nodded.
“Alright. Let’s go celebrate the official founding of Z-serum Team Two.” She smiled.
She paused and looked at Zhu Sui, maintaining a polite front in front of others.
“Chief Zhu, you’ve worked hard these past days. You’ll be supervising us from now on—why don’t you come too?”
Zhu Sui raised her long, narrow eyes. That unreadable look made Song Zhen momentarily lose her voice.
“No honorifics,” Zhu Sui said, her tone lightly admonishing.
Song Zhen thought she was annoyed.
But the next second, Zhu Sui smiled.
“Alright. I’ll come.”
Song Zhen had arrived in Zhu Sui’s car, and she would leave in it too. The other three—two of whom had cars—weren’t crowded. Chen Ye rode with Zuo Tian.
As soon as Song Zhen got in the car, Zhu Sui threw something over her head—sudden darkness.
She instinctively reached up. It was… an eye mask.
Zhu Sui then handed her a neck pillow and said in a tone that brooked no argument:
“Close your eyes. You look exhausted.”
“The drive is over half an hour. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
She reached across the space between them, grabbed Song Zhen’s seatbelt, and pulled it across her body. The strap brushing against her like that—it felt strangely intimate.
Click—
The buckle snapped into place.
“Okay, jiejie?”
Her voice was low, practically a whisper by her ear.
Still blindfolded, Song Zhen felt her breath catch. That close, she could feel Zhu Sui’s breath on her face.
Shivering involuntarily, she stiffened.
“Hmm?” Zhu Sui leaned in closer, voice lowered.
The warm breath tickled her earlobe. Song Zhen curled her shoulders inward.
“…O-okay,” she stammered. “I’ll sleep!”
Zhu Sui chuckled softly.
Song Zhen flushed to the ears—but, to her credit, Zhu Sui knew exactly when to back off. After the laugh, she sat up straight and started driving. Song Zhen let out a slow breath of relief.
With the eye mask on, the pillow in her arms, and her exhaustion catching up to her, she didn’t even notice Zhu Sui quietly releasing a subtle, calming pheromone into the air. Her mind soon blurred into sleep.
A little later, at a red light, Zhu Sui turned around again to check.
Song Zhen was fast asleep, breathing peacefully.
She must have been worrying about the second team’s approval every day until now.
Now that it was done, she could finally let go.
Zhu Sui started driving again. The speed on the dashboard dropped slightly—but the ride became smoother, steadier.
________________________________________
That evening, Cheng Lang received a call she didn’t expect.
It was from Tong Xianglu.
Cheng Lang’s face turned to stone, her tone harsh:
“What do you want?”
After saying that, she even helped jog the other person’s memory:
“Didn’t you say that once you returned to District Three, you’d be working on a classified experiment and your phone would be confiscated?”
Tong Xianglu laughed. “That was ages ago. The confidential research is done!”
“Is that so?” Cheng Lang’s tone was flat—clearly not buying it.
Tong Xianglu didn’t care to argue. She hadn’t come to dig into that. She got straight to the point.
“I heard you’ve been caught up in some trouble lately, Dr. Cheng.”
Cheng Lang didn’t respond.
Tong Xianglu chuckled again. She was always the spoiled type—her laughter bold but not annoying, with a touch of playful arrogance. But Cheng Lang, flipping through documents, didn’t find it the least bit pleasant.
Sensing the silence, Tong Xianglu glanced at her phone and the messages she’d received. From the look on Cheng Lang’s face, it seemed the rumors were likely true.
But Tong Xianglu wasn’t here to ask about the Z-serum or whether Team Two had been established. She had something else in mind.
“I heard your partner managed to stabilize a second-phase pregnant subject.”
Cheng Lang didn’t answer the question but corrected her instead.
“She has a name. Song Zhen.”
Tong Xianglu remained unfazed.
“Word’s already spread through the academic circles. They say she successfully calmed and suppressed a second-phase pheromone disorder.”
“If it’s already everywhere, why are you coming here to parrot it?” Cheng Lang’s hand paused on the page she was flipping, her expression suddenly sharp.
“Wait a minute. You should know better than anyone—wasn’t that patient supposed to have gone to District Three for some sort of ‘conditioning’ beforehand? Don’t tell me… it’s related to whatever shady project you’ve been working on recently?”
Tong Xianglu simply smiled, saying nothing. Cheng Lang’s expression darkened.
She didn’t deny it. Which meant—very likely—it was her.
Cheng Lang’s voice turned cold.
“Whatever it is you’re doing, I suggest you stop immediately. That pregnant woman may have seemed stable in the beginning, but her physical indicators weren’t good. Her weight even dropped during that period… Whatever new drug you’re experimenting with—it’s unsafe and should be immediately shut down.”
Tong Xianglu wasn’t interested in talking about that. She abruptly switched topics.
“Internal sources say the Z-serum got approval for Team Two today?”
Cheng Lang’s voice cut off, lips pressing into a tight line.
Tong Xianglu went on:
“And I heard it’s an entirely independent unit. From now on, no matter the credit or blame, it’ll be assessed separately from your Team One?”
She could hear the uneven breathing on the other end of the line—and knew Cheng Lang was taking it hard.
That only made Tong Xianglu happier.
Tapping her lips playfully, she said,
“My current project may be a bit of a mess, but that’s none of your concern. You, on the other hand… Two teams now—separate credits, and separate punishments too. Old friend, how about I send you a little gift?
Help you deal with that difficult partner of yours?”
“Tong Xianglu, whatever personal grievances we have, keep them personal. No matter how chaotic things get in research, it’s still internal to District One. It’s not your place to interfere.”
“Tsk!” After being sternly warned again and again, Tong Xianglu’s smile finally faded. Her voice turned cold.
“Don’t think I don’t know—you still care about her, don’t you? Too bad she’s dead set on divorcing you.”
Cheng Lang suddenly froze.
The next moment, all she heard was the monotonous beep-beep-beep of a disconnected call.
Tong Xianglu stared at the screen, pouting.
“Wow, hung up already? So touchy. Boring~”
She’d been using speakerphone, and next to her stood a woman in a white lab coat who looked quite similar—five or six parts alike. It was her older sister, Tong Yun.
Tong Yun was clearly displeased.
“Why did you go and provoke her? We have serious business here.”
She adjusted her glasses, frowning.
“Still, Cheng Lang is too guarded. From what she said, it sounds like Song Zhen really did pull it off. If only she’d said a bit more about the condition of the pregnant subject…”
She glanced sideways at Tong Xianglu again, reprimanding her:
“I told you to ask about the experiment properly. Couldn’t you have just asked nicely? Now look what you’ve done—she hung up on you!”
“Come on, sis. I only said I’d try. And you heard her—tight-lipped as ever!” Tong Xianglu shrugged.
“What can I do? She’s always been uptight about her work.”
She smirked, then added with interest,
“Still… a civilian-born Alpha, trying to climb her way to the top with nothing but her own strength… Since this Song Zhen is so capable, and we just happen to—well, how about…”
Tong Yun flipped through the documents in her hand, expression grave.
“Instead of focusing on others, I suggest you worry about our current experiment.”
Tong Xianglu choked on her words.
Without sparing her a glance, Tong Yun continued flipping pages and instructed sharply,
“Call Cheng Lang again later. We’re stuck, and this needs to be resolved first. No distractions. Ask the key questions, and don’t stop until we figure this out!”
Tong Xianglu pouted. But her sister had always been the most authoritative one in the family. In the end, she had no choice but to mutter resentfully,
“Fine, fine! I’ll call…”
“And speak nicely this time!”
Tong Xianglu rolled her eyes.
Tong Yun looked up sharply.
“Promise!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!!” Tong Xianglu snapped back irritably.
—
After a good meal and some rest, the smile finally returned to Song Zhen’s face.
It had been a long day, and after the celebratory dinner, everyone was too tired to go out for more fun, so they went their separate ways early.
Song Zhen returned home with Zhu Sui. Just as they reached the entrance to their residential complex, Song Zhen glanced at the nearby shopping street and suddenly said,
“I think we’re low on a few things at home. Let’s swing by the supermarket.”
She meant the large one nearby.
Zhu Sui didn’t object and turned the car around.
By the time they returned, both of them were loaded with shopping bags. As the elevator doors opened, they were surprised to find Rong Mo standing right outside.
For a moment, all three froze.
“Brother-in-law?” Zhu Sui asked, puzzled.
“Suìsuì… Oh! Professor Song, you’re here too.” Rong Mo seemed to have arrived not long ago. When he saw the two of them together, he visibly relaxed and smiled.
“Well, your cousin wanted me to hand this to you in person—an invitation. I know electronic invites are common now, but the elders insisted on paper ones for good luck.”
As he spoke, he reached into the pocket of his uniform for the envelope.
He started rambling happily about the details.
It took a moment for Song Zhen to fully grasp everything.
It was simple—Zhu Yi was pregnant. She hadn’t held any celebrations during the first trimester because she’d been feeling unwell.
In Huaguo, where birth rates were low, many families hold a banquet after the first trimester to celebrate the pregnancy and share the good news with friends and relatives.
After Song Zhen helped her with her symptoms, Zhu Yi gradually began to feel better. Now, with her health stabilizing, her family decided to go ahead with the celebration.
One, because Zhu Yi had suffered two miscarriages—this child hadn’t come easily. And two, because it was a truly joyful occasion, and they wanted to celebrate it with loved ones.
Holding the invitation, Zhu Sui was genuinely impressed by her cousin. She had been about to decline on Song Zhen’s behalf—but Zhu Yi had gone and sent the invitation anyway.
Smart move. It made rejecting the invite much harder now.
While Zhu Sui was silently worrying about that, Rong Mo turned to give the invitation to Song Zhen, but her hands were full.
It was clearly happy news, and Song Zhen smiled as she bent down to set the bags aside so she could accept the envelope.
However, after his initial joy, Rong Mo—an A-level Alpha—finally noticed something.
All the plastic bags were filled with groceries and household goods. He paused, then glanced at the matching logo on the bags Zhu Sui was holding.
Clearly, they had shopped together.
But…
Rong Mo checked the time. He’d worked overtime and arrived at Zhu Sui’s place at 10 PM. And at 10 PM, Song Zhen was still with her—and carrying all those bags?
Rong Mo’s Alpha-level brain finally came back online.
His eyes darted between the two of them repeatedly, finally wide with shock.
“You… are living together?”