Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 31.2
The day before the treatment was set to begin, as Song Zhen was hooking up a vitamin drip to boost her immune system, Mrs. Brown suddenly looked at her for a long time and quietly asked:
“Ms. Song… am I going to die?”
Her voice was soft, calm—not forceful, but gentle, as befit a diplomat’s wife.
Song Zhen was so startled her hands shook. The bottle slipped and shattered on the floor.
After Zuo Tian came in to help clean up, Song Zhen turned to find Mrs. Brown watching her quietly. From her reaction alone, Mrs. Brown had already guessed the truth.
They stared at each other in silence.
Song Zhen didn’t know how to respond.
Eventually, she had everyone leave the room. She brought over a stool and sat down beside the bed.
With pheromone disorder, anesthesia numbs the body—but the pheromones keep the mind awake. The patient remains conscious.
The division had been debating for days when to tell Mrs. Brown. If she knew what to expect, the intervention would go more smoothly. If not, she might panic halfway through, causing even worse complications.
But even knowing that, it was still hard to say the words.
Song Zhen tried to ease into it.
“Why do you ask that, Mrs. Brown?”
“There’s too much that doesn’t add up,” Mrs. Brown replied. “Take Xiao Shu—my sister’s never been good at lying. My husband’s suddenly visiting every day, despite his workload. And then my parents—they said they’d come yesterday. They’re usually so busy. They didn’t even rush over for my first miscarriage. But this time…”
Song Zhen understood.
Mrs. Brown’s voice was steady, her expression composed. No tears. After a moment’s thought, Song Zhen decided—today was as good a time as any.
She carefully explained everything, watching the woman’s face closely.
When she finished, Mrs. Brown was silent for a long time. She placed a hand gently over her belly. Her eyes grew misty.
“If you feel like crying,” Song Zhen offered, “it’s okay. Let it out.”
But Mrs. Brown shook her head. Despite her usual gentleness, she displayed astonishing resilience in that moment.
“No. I don’t want Xiao Shu or Jack to worry.”
She looked down at her stomach and sighed softly. Then she spoke in English—a line Song Zhen understood clearly:
“Son, Mommy tried her best. I’m sorry.”
The ultrasound had confirmed it—she was carrying a boy.
Mrs. Brown fell quiet again, and for a while, said nothing. Song Zhen’s heart ached.
Finally, she looked up and asked,
“Do you trust me, Mrs. Brown?”
To Song Zhen’s surprise, Mrs. Brown nodded without hesitation.
“I trust you, Ms. Song.”
“This problem hasn’t improved anywhere else, but in the days I’ve spent in the Adrenaline Division, my symptoms have eased. That’s all thanks to you.”
Song Zhen couldn’t take credit—but what she wanted to say was something else.
She looked straight at Mrs. Brown and said solemnly,
“Mrs. Brown, no matter what happens, I will do everything in my power to make sure your worst fears never come true.”
She paused, then chuckled wryly.
“To be honest, I’m not the most gifted scientist. When it comes to extreme drug calibration, I’m no match for Dr. Cheng. And I certainly can’t compete with Tong Xianglu, who already holds three patents.”
Then her tone shifted—calm, but firm.
“But I do have something they don’t.”
“When it comes to clinical experience with pregnant patients, I’m the most seasoned stabilizer researcher in the field right now.”
“I started interning in the OB-GYN department at the Military Medical University during my junior year. In my senior year, when the Z-serum project launched, I frequently collected data from pregnant patients to support our early trials.”
“When the project was formally established at the institute, I continued overseeing its satellite lab at the Military Medical University. After that, every high-risk pregnancy case went through our lab…”
“It’s been four years,” Song Zhen said. “All kinds of pregnant patients—if not in the thousands, I’ve personally seen at least several hundred.”
“In an era where pregnancies are so rare, OB-GYN departments are often eerily quiet. That I have so much clinical experience is the result of years of steady accumulation.”
Mrs. Brown looked surprised.
Song Zhen smiled at her—not overly warm, but sincere and genuine.
“Until now, none of the pregnant women under my care have suffered adverse outcomes. Instead of my promises, I believe that track record speaks louder.”
“Madam, I will do everything in my power to help you. I only ask that you put your trust in us, and face this with strength.”
“Let’s face it together—with me, and with everyone in the Adrenaline Division. Can you do that?”
Mrs. Brown was silent for a long time. Finally, she nodded firmly, her voice hoarse:
“Alright. I won’t give up hope.”
Seeing her strength, Song Zhen nodded in return—and felt her own eyes begin to sting.
When Song Zhen stepped out of the ward, Zhu Sui—who had been called over in a hurry by Zuo Tian—was already waiting.
After hearing what had just happened, Zhu Sui fell silent for a moment, then calmly said, “I’ve already called Mr. Brown. He’ll be here soon.”
Song Zhen replied, “That’s for the best.”
With communication with the patient completed and the intervention plan finalized, the clock ticked closer to the scheduled procedure.
Vice President Rong convened a final meeting with the Adrenaline Division, meticulously reviewing every detail.
“These are the two finalized plans. No further revisions. We’re locking them in.”
He looked up. Zhu Sui, Song Zhen, and Cheng Lang all nodded.
Vice President Rong closed his folder, took a deep breath, and after a long pause, finally raised the question no one had dared to bring up:
“Now, let’s address the core of this meeting—the issue we’ve all avoided discussing.”
“If every option fails—if the intervention is unsuccessful—what then?”
The topic was so heavy, it cast a pall over the entire room. The initial response was complete silence.
Vice President Rong knew how painful this was, but it had to be addressed.
“Dr. Cheng?” he prompted.
Cheng Lang stood, set her pen down, and voiced what many were already thinking:
“Then… we give up on the fetus.”
The words plunged the room into an even deeper stillness.
Vice President Rong nodded slowly, adding, “She’s five months along. Have the hospital prepare. If necessary, proceed with immediate induction.”
That was the standard protocol.
Cheng Lang blinked, realizing Vice President Rong had misunderstood her meaning. She corrected him seriously:
“I didn’t mean induction.”
“Hm? Then what?” someone asked.
“Right, if we’re giving up the fetus at five months, how would it not involve induction? Natural miscarriage at this stage isn’t possible…”
“What are you saying—give up the fetus but don’t induce labor?”
The group was confused. Murmurs rippled through the room.
Before Cheng Lang could speak again, another figure stood up beside her—Song Zhen.
Vice President Rong belatedly realized this was something the two team leads had likely discussed beforehand and already reached an agreement on.
“Ms. Song?” he asked.
Song Zhen lowered her head slightly, her voice strained.
“This proposal was mine. Let me explain.”
Cheng Lang turned toward her.
Song Zhen took a deep breath and began,
“As we all know, the hormonal chaos stems from three sources of pheromones: the pregnant patient’s own, the partner’s, and the fetus’s. The further along the pregnancy, the higher the fetus’s pheromone output.
At five months, forcibly suppressing it risks permanently damaging the mother’s glands…”
The others nodded. Cheng Lang let out a barely audible sigh and lowered her gaze.
Zhu Sui raised an eyebrow slightly—she could tell this explanation was meant for non-experts like her.
Song Zhen finally looked up, expression heavy. Her voice was low but firm.
“If the intervention fails, we expect immediate destabilization. The conventional approach would be to induce labor—but for Mrs. Brown, I believe that’s too slow… and not thorough.”
She paused, then spoke with resolve:
“If we can’t promptly and completely remove all fetal material, the mother’s condition could deteriorate rapidly.”
“In a failed scenario, the fetus will be unsalvageable no matter what. Our priority must be preserving the mother and minimizing gland damage during the ensuing chaos.”
“Therefore…”
“Rather than induction, I recommend a cesarean section. Have a surgical team directly remove all fetal tissue in one clean operation.”
Silence fell across the room.
Song Zhen knew the proposal sounded harsh.
But she pressed on:
“Ordinary fetal pheromone disruption typically begins by the third month. District Three pushed the pregnancy to five months. There’s no precedent. We don’t know how intense the fetal pheromones are now, or what kind of reaction they’ll trigger in the mother’s body.”
Her throat was beginning to feel hoarse.
“So, eliminating that source immediately is, in my judgment, the optimal fallback plan.”
No one responded. They were stunned.
But upon reflection, her argument was undeniably sound—perhaps too sound. That’s what made it terrifying.
After several long minutes, even the experienced Vice President Rong was momentarily at a loss for words.
Yet the harsh proposal… was the best contingency.
Removing the root pheromone source quickly would significantly reduce Mrs. Brown’s physical burden.
Zhu Sui asked, “We’ll need to inform the family, won’t we?”
Vice President Rong nodded.
“We’ll need Mr. Brown’s signature.”
Again, the room fell silent.
Finally, Zhu Sui broke the tension:
“Since no one’s objecting to either induction or Ms. Song’s plan, let’s vote.”
“Agreed,” said Vice President Rong, his tone heavy.
The vote passed unanimously.
The cesarean removal proposal was approved—somberly and without dissent.
Song Zhen nodded, her voice calm and unwavering:
“I proposed this, so I’ll be the one to explain it to Mr. Brown.”
No one objected. Only Zhu Sui added,
“I’ve always been the one liaising with him. I’ll go with you.”
At the close of the meeting, Vice President Rong took a deep breath and addressed the team solemnly:
“Today’s meeting was difficult, but I don’t want it to weigh on us.”
“Now that we’ve prepared for the worst-case scenario, we must face the upcoming procedure with full energy and zero despair. We fight this battle together—as one.”
“Meeting adjourned.”
Later that evening, Song Zhen and Zhu Sui went to find Mr. Brown.
Song Zhen laid out both options in meticulous detail. Mr. Brown agreed with the Adrenaline Division’s final plan.
His hands trembled as he signed the surgical consent form.
After signing, he asked, “Can I see Emily tonight?”
Emily Brown—his wife.
The intervention was scheduled for the next morning. Normally, no visitors would be allowed.
But Song Zhen nodded, understanding.
“Yes. You may.”
“Thank you… thank you.”
Everyone advised Song Zhen and Cheng Lang to go home early and get some rest.
They agreed.
But just as Song Zhen sat down at home, she got a call from Zuo Tian: Mrs. Brown’s vitals were declining. Her pheromone levels were spiking, and the suppressants might fail early.
Song Zhen and Zhu Sui rushed back to the Adrenaline Division.
Cheng Lang arrived at the same time, surprised to see them both but without time to ask questions. They went straight to the ward.
It was confirmed: the destabilization had begun early.
A quick discussion followed. The decision was made to move up the procedure by an hour. Military Medical University doctors were contacted again—they’d be needed if things went south.
The tense hour passed quickly. Vice President Rong and several vice deans arrived as soon as they heard.
Song Zhen changed into scrubs and mask. Just before entering, Mr. Brown stopped her.
His eyes were bloodshot. Song Zhen turned to him. His lips moved, but no words came. His hands clenched the fabric of her coat, his grip tightening—but still, no words.
Song Zhen understood. She looked him in the eyes and said solemnly:
“The Adrenaline Division will do everything in its power to save your wife. Please trust us.”
Mr. Brown let go.
The doctors from Military Medical University had been contacted by Zhu Sui. She returned with them to the ward.
Mr. Brown sat outside, already praying.
The door to the ward shut behind them. The status light switched from green to red.
“IN TREATMENT.”