Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 40.1
They arrived at the private dining room.
Considering Zhu Sui’s background, Cheng Lang had chosen a rather upscale hotpot restaurant.
It was a traditional yin-yang pot with spicy red broth and a milder white one, both bubbling gently. Cheng Lang had already made arrangements ahead of time, so the staff had started heating the pot before their arrival. As soon as the group entered, the server counted the guests and began setting the table with plates and glasses.
Since the reservation was under Cheng Lang’s name, the menu was handed directly to her. She stood up and passed one to Zhu Sui, then another to Song Zhen. The server swiftly handed copies to Song’s father and
Cheng’s mother as well. Everyone began browsing the menu, except Cheng’s mother, who looked visibly unsettled—not for any reason other than the prices.
Unlike typical hotpot joints, this place offered all kinds of rare and exotic ingredients—from sky, sea, and forest. Some dishes cost several hundred yuan per serving, but the ones toward the back of the menu hit four-digit prices. Out of curiosity, Cheng’s mother flipped to the last few pages and trembled slightly at the all-English listings and four-digit figures. Her head swam just looking at them.
Too embarrassed to ask the server, she leaned over to Cheng Lang and whispered, “What is all this? Are we eating gold?”
Cheng Lang gave a glance—Zhu Sui wasn’t far, and with her sharp 5.0 vision, she’d caught a look at the fine print. Wow, this place really went all out—they even had caviar on the menu.
Zhu Sui flipped to the last page as well but didn’t order from it. Instead, she leaned toward Song Zhen and whispered, “I know a sushi place that does an incredible job—with fresh seasonal caviar too. I’ll take you next time.”
Her voice was soft, only audible to the two of them. Song Zhen’s ear tingled slightly, and just as she thought she should be more mindful of the situation, Zhu Sui had already pulled away, quick and smooth, flipping through the menu again like nothing had happened. With her calm expression, if not for what Song Zhen had heard, she might have thought she’d imagined the whole thing.
Zhu Sui ordered some standard items. She was mostly craving the hotpot flavor—there wasn’t any specific dish she was dying to eat. If it were that serious, she would’ve just asked her aunt to make it at home.
Song Zhen added a few snacks.
Song’s father ordered some of his own favorites.
Cheng’s mother, unsure what to do, couldn’t bring herself to order the expensive items but also felt the ordinary ones were too plain for entertaining her daughter’s superior. As she hesitated, Cheng Lang stepped in and ordered several premium seasonal ingredients—flown in fresh and not cheap, but worth it for the quality.
Zhu Sui raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. From what she could tell, Dr. Cheng had likely been entertained a fair bit overseas. She definitely had the social poise needed to deal with high-society types—nothing timid about her.
“Would you like some wine, Chief Zhu? A bit of red, maybe?” Cheng Lang asked.
“No thanks, I’m driving,” Zhu Sui declined.
Cheng’s mother chimed in enthusiastically, “You can always get a driver! Don’t hold back, Chief Zhu—please just enjoy yourself!”
Zhu Sui smiled politely and waved it off. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. Last time I used a ride service, the driver scratched my car, and I had to go back and forth with the company forever. Not worth the hassle.”
Cheng’s mother was surprised. “Really? I thought things were much more standardized now. Complaints don’t work?”
Zhu Sui only chuckled, not elaborating.
Cheng Lang, catching on, tugged her mother’s sleeve and explained, “Chief Zhu’s car is a limited edition, isn’t it? Worth over a million. Of course, the insurance coverage isn’t great…”
“It’s not that expensive,” Zhu Sui added calmly. “Just a gift from my family when I came of age. It’s been a while—I’m just sentimental and like to take care of it.”
A car worth over a million… not expensive? Cheng’s mother choked on her words and dropped the subject.
As personable as Zhu Sui seemed, Cheng’s mother was reminded—this really was a person from a completely different world.
They ended up ordering fresh-pressed juices. The food came quickly, and before long, the first batch from the pot was ready to eat. After a taste, Zhu Sui grew more impressed—Cheng Lang had picked a spot that not only looked high-end but actually tasted good too.
Conversation started with the upcoming Dragon Boat Festival. Cheng’s mother talked about how it was celebrated in Jiangcheng. Song Zhen mostly kept quiet unless addressed directly. Cheng Lang spoke with poise, living up to her title of “Dr. Cheng”—she had the polish of a well-educated elite.
As always, Zhu Sui could chat about just about anything with anyone.
When the topic turned to rice dumplings, Cheng’s mother mentioned that she made them herself and offered to send some to Zhu Sui after the holiday. Song’s father frowned slightly, and even Cheng Lang thought her mother was laying it on a bit thick.
Song Zhen smiled and declined gently. “That’s too much trouble. I’m sure Chief Zhu’s family makes them too. And nowadays, you can buy anything you want.”
Zhu Sui quickly waved her hands. “No, no, it’s fine. I don’t really like them. My cousin’s the only one who does.”
“It’s not trouble at all! Even if you don’t eat them, you can give them to your cousin! It’s the thought that counts!” Cheng’s mother insisted.
Zhu Sui paused, then smiled again, politely declining. “That’s kind of you, but I’m afraid not this year. My cousin is pregnant—she’s on a restricted diet, and the family’s keeping a close watch. She wouldn’t be able to eat them anyway. Really—thank you, though.”
“Your cousin is pregnant?” Cheng’s mother exclaimed.
“Didn’t Dr. Cheng mention it? It was pretty risky for a while. Thank goodness for Professor Song…”
Zhu Sui recounted how Song Zhen had helped save Zhu Yi’s pregnancy. She had already told Song’s father earlier that afternoon. This time, she gave the full story—clear, unembellished, and honest.
Cheng’s mother listened for a long time. But the more she listened, the more uncomfortable she became. Not once had Cheng Lang’s name come up—only Song Zhen’s. Unable to help herself, she asked, “But aren’t both of them team leads in the pheromone division? Why was it all Song Zhen…?”
Cheng Lang quickly cut in. “Previously, our affiliated labs handled pregnancies. I didn’t have much experience. And given the emergency, I advised against intervening.”
Cheng’s mother frowned. “What do you mean, ‘not intervene’?”
“It means letting the imbalance correct itself naturally.”
Wait—wasn’t that basically letting her cousin miscarry?!
Caught off guard by this revelation, Cheng’s mother glanced at Zhu Sui, worried this might give her daughter a bad impression in front of her superior.
But before she could say more, Zhu Sui picked up the thread and finished the story. She explained how Cheng Lang acted, what Song Zhen insisted on, and how Zhu Yi had responded—everything, plain and unedited.
Cheng Lang was only mentioned briefly. She hadn’t done anything wrong—just followed protocol. She felt no shame about it.
Still, hearing it all laid out, Cheng’s mother was deeply unsettled.
She turned to her daughter and muttered, “Why didn’t you push harder to help? If Song Zhen could do it…”
“I couldn’t, okay? I didn’t have the ability, so I stepped back. What’s so hard to understand?” Cheng Lang snapped. After several digs from her mother, she was clearly irritated. Her tone turned sharp.
“And besides, stabilizers are a globally acknowledged challenge in scientific research. It’s not like you can conjure results with just a few words. If it were that easy, anyone could develop one.”
Cheng Lang’s temper flared quickly. After just two sentences, Cheng’s mother realized her daughter was genuinely angry and fell silent.
Watching it unfold, Song Zhen couldn’t help but smile to herself. That old saying came to mind: the wicked are best dealt with by the wicked. Looking at the dynamic between Cheng Lang and her mother, it finally made sense.
Zhu Sui also quietly observed the scene without intervening. Once things settled down again, she rejoined the conversation.
Since they’d talked about Zhu Yi and the baby, Cheng’s mother had more questions.
“How far along is she?”
“Over five months now,” Zhu Sui replied.
“Oh, that’s great. Is it a boy or a girl? The ultrasound should show by now, right? In families like yours, is there a preference?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t asked. But boy or girl—it’s the same to us.”
Cheng’s mother nodded. “True. With birthrates so low these days, just having a child is a blessing.” Then, as if something occurred to her, she glanced at Cheng Lang and then at Song Zhen. “I don’t have any particular expectations for Langlang’s partner. I just hope they’ll have a child someday.”
“Oh?” Zhu Sui teased lightly. “So that’s a condition for your daughter-in-law?”
“Not at all! These days, love is free—how can we elders impose expectations?” Cheng’s mother said, sneaking a glance at Cheng Lang. “I just think a home feels more complete with a child.”
“Well, that’s easy enough,” Zhu Sui replied, still half-joking. “Someone as brilliant and capable as Dr. Cheng probably has no shortage of Omegas lining up to marry her. And in AO couples, most can have children, after all.”
Zhu Sui rested her chin on one hand and casually picked up on Cheng’s mother’s words.
On the surface, what she said could’ve passed for idle conversation—if Zhu Sui hadn’t known about Song Zhen and Cheng Lang’s past. But she did know. Song Zhen glanced sideways. Zhu Sui was all smiles, but behind that smile was mischief, sly and deliberately provoking.
With the bait tossed out, Cheng’s mother instantly found herself caught in an awkward spot. If she went along with the remark, Song’s father and Song Zhen were still right there—and everyone at the table, besides
Zhu Sui, knew full well what Cheng Lang’s partner’s gender was. Not to mention, out of her own self-interest, she had privately asked Cheng Lang not to reveal their marriage to Zhu Sui during these few days.
She’d even worried Song Zhen might take offense. But as an elder, she felt justified in meddling a little. Cheng Lang hadn’t objected either, so she assumed if Song Zhen was upset, she’d simply chosen to endure it in silence.
She hadn’t expected the topic to be brought up so directly, putting her on the spot. Cheng’s mother could only chuckle dryly for a few seconds before mumbling, “Haha… well, you never know. Nothing’s certain.”
Vague enough to neither confirm nor deny that Cheng Lang was single—or that Song Zhen was her partner.
After holding back for a while, Song’s father suddenly slapped his chopsticks against his bowl with a loud clack, face stern and voice cold: “Exactly. With the birthrate so low, even Omegas aren’t guaranteed to have successful pregnancies. And besides—who says Langlang has to end up with an Omega?”
Then, turning to Cheng Lang, he asked, “What do you think?”
Cheng Lang was already irritated by her mother. Now that her father-in-law handed her the stage, she didn’t hesitate. “I think Betas are great too. When it comes to relationships, it’s all about fate.” After a beat, she added tactfully, “As for children—having them would be great, but if not, then it just wasn’t meant to be. No need to force it.”
Satisfied with her answer, Song’s father nodded and resumed eating.
The implication couldn’t be more obvious. Cheng’s mother, always petty, felt her heart clench. As soon as Song’s father relaxed, she grew anxious.
“What do you mean ‘no need to force it’? You’ve built such a great career—how can you not have a child?”
Everyone turned to look at her. Only then did she realize she’d spoken too bluntly. She forced a grin and tried to smooth it over: “I just really like children. And Langlang’s so smart—it’d be such a waste, genetically speaking, not to pass that on.”
Zhu Sui, ever the spectator, nodded thoughtfully. “Dr. Cheng is quite exceptional—both in intelligence and capability.”
Then she added, “It’s just a pity Dr. Cheng is an Alpha. If she were an Omega, Aunt Zhang, you wouldn’t have to worry at all about children.”
No one expected Song Zhen to speak next. And when she did, her words were nothing like her usual gentle tone—sharp and layered with meaning.
Cheng’s mother had already been displeased with Song Zhen these past two days. Now, hearing that jab, her face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Song Zhen replied with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Dr. Cheng is an Alpha. So naturally, it’s her partner who’ll be carrying the child. That creates a bit of distance, and some things are harder to speak on. But if she were an Omega, well—one child or two, it’d be entirely up to you, wouldn’t it?”
She continued smoothly, “And you could follow the example of the Tong family—only accepting sons-in-law who marry in. If her partner couldn’t conceive, you’d blame it on genetic incompatibility or pheromone disorders. Dr. Cheng wouldn’t have to suffer through a cocktail of hormonal treatments. Just change the son-in-law. Problem solved.”
Still smiling, Song Zhen concluded, “So in the end, it’s just that Dr. Cheng’s gender didn’t differentiate the way you would’ve liked. If she’d turned out to be an Omega, your wish would’ve been granted already, wouldn’t it?”
Her sarcasm was subtle, polished—but it hit like a hammer.
Zhu Sui glanced at her, intrigued. So, this was another side of Song Zhen—sharp and unsparing. She saw her in a new light.
“You—” Cheng’s mother was so choked up she could hardly speak. Was this how a daughter-in-law should talk?!
Song Zhen, completely unfazed, asked, “Was I wrong, Aunt Zhang?”
Cheng’s mother’s full name was Zhang Lan. Now that Song Zhen had stopped calling her “Mom,” this shift to “Aunt Zhang” was both intentional and cutting.
Just as her anger reached a peak, those final three words snapped her back to reality. Was this about hiding the marriage from Zhu Sui? If so… yes, she did feel a bit guilty.
In truth, Song Zhen wasn’t thinking that far. But Cheng’s mother was now caught between guilt and indignation—furious yet blocked with no outlet.
She hesitated a few seconds. Song’s father picked up the thread, carrying the same tone and sharpness as his daughter—clearly father and daughter alike.
“She’s got a point. If Langlang were an Omega, then worst case, she could opt for embryo implantation. Mothers-in-law shouldn’t say that, but a mother—she’d get a pass.”
He said it with a smile, but the meaning was deadly clear. Artificial reproduction wasn’t a card Cheng’s mother could play—not in front of Cheng Lang and Song’s father. And to have it spelled out so plainly left her nowhere to hide.
Cheng’s mother tried to save face: “Heh… but our Langlang is an Alpha.”
Song’s father replied easily, “Then there’s nothing to be done. In this country, reproductive rights lie with the one who can carry the child. Langlang doesn’t have that capacity, so it’s not up to you, Zhang Lan. Since it’s out of your hands, why not let it go and leave it to fate?”
For once, he was utterly firm. And with the in-law relationship standing in the way, Cheng’s mother couldn’t argue.
Then Song’s father turned to Zhu Sui, as if casually remembering something. “Didn’t your cousin have two miscarriages? Must’ve been awful, having her body in turmoil like that. How did your family handle it?”
Zhu Sui answered matter-of-factly, “After the second one, my uncle wanted her to divorce. What Professor Song said was right—families with lots of AO pairings know very well that hormonal instability and miscarriage often relate to the partner. If a child is truly the goal, then changing the partner might help.”