Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 37.1

But Cheng Lang’s mother quickly let it go—first, because Cheng Lang had already reached for her suitcase and lifted it for her, and second, because all three of her bags were truly heavy—solid and packed to the brim.

And who was Zhu Sui? She was Cheng Lang and Song Zhen’s superior. If a supervisor offered to help out of politeness, you weren’t supposed to take it seriously!

Zhu Sui’s gesture of helping with Uncle Song’s luggage was just symbolic—his suitcase was light, and the gesture satisfied everyone’s sense of propriety without crossing any lines.

With that thought, Cheng Lang’s mother didn’t feel embarrassed anymore. She glanced up and saw Song Zhen with empty hands, and casually directed, “Xiao Song, come help me with—”

Before she could finish, Cheng Lang cut in. “Mom, just give it to me.”

She quickly took the bag her mother had just handed over and stacked it onto the suitcase, dragging them all along.

Cheng Lang’s mother was momentarily stunned, then clicked her tongue.

Fine, fine—keep being protective. What’s the big deal about asking for a bit of help? Young people aren’t that precious.

Still, since Zhu Sui was there, she held back her complaints.

Back when they were still a family, Song Zhen would tolerate Cheng Lang’s mother. Now that they weren’t, as long as she wasn’t being yelled at directly, Song Zhen couldn’t be bothered. Standing beside her father, she leaned in and quietly asked about his plans for the visit.

Meanwhile, Cheng Lang was racking her brain, panicking about how to stop her mother from blurting something inappropriate. Zhu Sui didn’t know she and Song Zhen had been married. If her mother shouted something carelessly and Song Zhen’s father overheard, it would be disastrous—they were divorced now, and that would just sever any remaining ties between the families.

But before Cheng Lang could think of a solution, unexpectedly, Zhu Sui spoke up first.

She commented, rather cheerfully, that it was quite a coincidence that both of their parents had taught at the same secondary school.

Song Zhen’s father smiled and responded, “Indeed. But we weren’t just coworkers. We’ve been neighbors too—for many years now, really quite a fate.”

Cheng Lang’s mother nodded in agreement.

Zhu Sui turned to glance at Song Zhen and Cheng Lang. Her smile seemed pleasant, but Song Zhen—standing closer—sensed a trace of teasing mischief in her eyes.

“So that makes Song Zhen and Dr. Cheng childhood sweethearts? Grew up together, didn’t they?”

That comment brought back awkward memories for Cheng Lang’s mother—after all, the girls had indeed fallen in love because of their shared childhood. Her mood turned sour, and her voice carried a thin edge of passive aggression. “Yes, that’s right. Childhood sweethearts. If they hadn’t grown up together, how could they have…”

Cheng Lang felt a wave of dread rise—she was about to interrupt her mother when Zhu Sui beat her to it. Still pulling the luggage, she remarked brightly, “Really? I always thought childhood sweethearts ended up together!”

The meaning behind her words was clear.

Cheng Lang’s mother choked a little, and Song Zhen’s father frowned.

Zhu Sui, facing forward, acted as if she didn’t notice anything, and continued casually, “But both Dr. Cheng and Song Zhen are single now, aren’t they? I guess sometimes, when you know someone too well, it doesn’t work out after all.”

If her last sentence was only vaguely suggestive, this one spelled things out unmistakably.

Cheng Lang’s mother turned to her daughter in surprise. Cheng Lang gave a small shake of her head and mouthed, “I don’t know.”

Song Zhen’s father looked visibly upset now and turned toward his daughter. Song Zhen also shook her head but didn’t try to explain. Instead, she gently took his arm and smoothly changed the subject, “Dad, didn’t you say the class you’re teaching came first in the monthly exams? Did the school issue any certificates or commendations afterward?”

While her father was distracted by the new topic, Cheng Lang’s mother was lost in her own thoughts.

Once she realized the meaning behind Zhu Sui’s words, she calmed down. And the more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself it might not be such a bad thing.

Everyone had known that Cheng Lang and Song Zhen’s marriage was rushed.

But what no one knew was that Cheng Lang had gotten the marriage certificate first and then informed her family—which Cheng Lang’s mother had found hard to accept at the time.

After all, her daughter was an Alpha—just that alone put her a step above. But now, especially with the success of the Z-serum inhibitors and her prestigious role in national defense research, she was a senior intellectual, a military officer, even—technically—a Major. Once the project was officially launched, even more opportunities would follow.

Although Song Zhen had been involved in the project too, Cheng Lang’s mother couldn’t help but be stuck on the fact that Song Zhen was a Beta. That fact alone gave her a persistent sense of dissatisfaction.

Never mind that Cheng Lang was outstanding—among their colleagues’ children, there were plenty of Alphas and Omegas. Take Zhang laoshi’s daughter, for instance: an Omega who married into an elite family in the Fifth Military District and now served as the wife of a diplomatic translator. That was impressive.

That girl had really landed herself a catch—but even if they didn’t compare to her—

There was another B-grade Alpha from their school who had done alright in the military. He’d married an Omega too, not from an elite background, but they already had a three-year-old child.

And Cheng Lang? She had the highest grade, the greatest achievements—and married a Beta?

And not just any Beta, but the daughter of a teacher at the same school?

To Cheng Lang’s mother, it always felt like their side had lost out. Big time.

That feeling only deepened with time.

At first, her real frustration was over the secretive marriage, not necessarily Song Zhen herself. But as Cheng Lang’s public image soared—more media appearances, greater accolades—her perception shifted. Even if Song Zhen was excellent, she no longer felt Song Zhen was “worthy” of Cheng Lang.

Of course, such thoughts were petty and even a bit materialistic, so she’d never say them out loud.

Still, they crept into her interactions with Song Zhen. She became increasingly critical, finding fault in everything her daughter-in-law did. But she couldn’t out-argue Cheng Lang, so she could only swallow her dissatisfaction.

When she heard that Song Zhen’s lab had merged into the Adrenaline Division, that they were now colleagues, she’d been worried.

She feared that in such an elite research institute, surrounded by people from prestigious families, news of Cheng Lang’s Beta partner would make others look down on her.

Now, hearing that the marriage hadn’t even been made public yet, Cheng Lang’s mother suddenly felt a sense of relief.

But that relief brought a new worry: hadn’t they once said that they would hold a formal banquet once they returned from overseas? What if the couple decided to host something in Beijing instead, to make their relationship public here?

She frowned. There weren’t even any relatives in Beijing. Wouldn’t it be better for them to return to Jiangcheng and hold the event there? Let the local friends and family celebrate—no need to make a fuss in the capital, where nobody knew them…

This train of thought was one she kept to herself. As a result, she was unusually quiet during the car ride. Cheng Lang kept glancing at her, half convinced the flight must’ve tired her out or she’d had a personality shift.

On the other side, Zhu Sui chatted cheerfully with Song Zhen’s father as they reached the car. Since Song Zhen had arrived in Zhu Sui’s car, it was only natural for her father to ride back with them too.

It wasn’t until Cheng Lang’s mother got into her daughter’s car that she realized—

“Wait, why are they in the same car?”

Cheng Lang didn’t intend to keep anything from her mother, so she briefly explained Song Zhen’s recent achievements. Reasonably speaking, even as her superior, Zhu Sui had no cause to give Song Zhen a hard time. Of course, the private thoughts and undercurrents—Cheng Lang kept those to herself.

Meanwhile, Song Zhen and her father had taken the back seat of the car. Song’s father looked a little embarrassed.

“You know,” he muttered, “you have your own car… Why not just drive separately? Why trouble Chief Zhu with picking us up? It’s not her job to chauffeur us around…”

“Uncle Song, it’s really no trouble,” Zhu Sui said lightly from the driver’s seat. “This ride is actually related to work at the lab. I don’t think you’ve heard yet… something happened just a few days ago. Everyone’s only just left the institute today. Both Song Zhen and Dr. Cheng pulled multiple all-nighters—especially Song Zhen. If you take a look at her, you’ll see those dark circles for yourself…”

She spoke with ease, omitting only the confidential details about District Three. Still, the gist was there. Song’s father was visibly shocked. He turned to inspect Song Zhen’s face and nodded. “You really don’t look well-rested.”

Song Zhen flushed at the comment and waved her hand. “It’s not that bad! That was two days ago, and besides, I got a full night’s sleep yesterday.”

Before Zhu Sui could add anything more, Song’s father—who knew his daughter too well—cut her off.

“Don’t give me that,” he said. “You’re just like your mother—stubborn as a mule. If the data’s not ready, you won’t sleep. And don’t think I don’t know what kind of workload this is. There’s a pregnant woman in her fifth month on this project. You expect me to believe you’ve been sleeping soundly?”

Song Zhen pouted under his scolding. Zhu Sui caught the rare expression through the rearview mirror and found it amusing—she’d never seen this side of her before.

But Zhu Sui, ever tactful, knew when to shift gears. After a few more fatherly rebukes, she smoothly steered the conversation toward military accolades and the institute’s internal reactions. She joked that the director was so stressed his ulcer had flared up, and the deputy director’s hair loss was visibly worsening. Her wordplay was clever, full of humor, and put everyone at ease.

Surprisingly, despite the generation gap, Song’s father and Zhu Sui hit it off in conversation.

Song Zhen found herself impressed by the sight.

Later, as the conversation turned to Mrs. Brown’s case, Song’s father glanced at Song Zhen and sighed. “I should’ve told you before we came. If I’d known you were dealing with something so serious, I wouldn’t have let us disturb you at all…”

He paused, then sighed again. “But seeing how anxious she was, I let myself get swept along. And now we’ve just added to your burdens…”

The “she” in question was obviously Cheng Lang’s mother. He didn’t name her, but both Song Zhen and Zhu Sui understood immediately.

Song Zhen grinned, putting on a sweet, coaxing tone.

“It’s fine. Didn’t you book a hotel instead of dropping by unannounced? I just have to drop you off there and I’m done—hardly any trouble at all~”

She could tell it had been her father’s idea. If it had been up to Cheng Lang’s mother, she’d have insisted on staying at their place—calling it their home like nothing had changed. That would’ve been awkward and difficult to refuse.

But with a hotel reservation, Song Zhen could at least take a breath and figure out what to do next—tomorrow.

“Hey Dad, how was your latest heart checkup? What did the doctor say?”

The question caught her father off guard.

“It’s… fine. Same as always.”

But Song Zhen could read him like a book. His guilty look gave everything away.