The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 109

He Dayong was mentally reeling from the barrage of revelations.

Each of these organizations was untouchable on its own—let alone all of them at once.

While he managed to maintain his composure outwardly, internally, he couldn’t help but wonder: Just how many people’s interests had Suhe Biotech harmed to warrant such unified targeting?

The GT200 file…he had heard of it before.

Its association with Jiang Weide had made it highly influential in the industry.

But the oddity lay in its secrecy. Despite its proclaimed significance, only the Hongsuo Research Institute and a select few were privy to its contents, with no concrete information ever leaked.

Insiders had remained tight-lipped, only asserting its importance and potential impact on industry stability. Meanwhile, related developments proceeded methodically behind closed doors, with promises of transparency once results were available.

Despite his extensive network, He Dayong had failed to uncover the truth about GT200.

How could this young man possibly know about it?

Could Suhe Biotech, appearing as an indomitable ship, already be riddled with holes and taking on water?

If it were only Li Rong speaking, He Dayong would dismiss it as a joke, even if Li Rong had just displayed abilities far beyond his age.

But Cen Xiao was also present.

Cen Xiao was undoubtedly the son of the District Three President and a legitimate member of the Ghost Eye Group, acting on its behalf. He had no reason to fabricate a story implicating Districts One, Three, Four, and Nine, as the consequences would be severe if he were caught lying.

Though He Dayong feigned calmness, his back was already drenched in sweat.

He was tightly bound to Suhe Biotech, but to Suhe Biotech, he was merely a moneymaking tool. If they learned that the Hongsuo Institute and the various Districts were focusing their attention on him, there was no guarantee Suhe Biotech wouldn’t cut ties and abandon him to save themselves.

As He Dayong wrestled with these thoughts, his phone buzzed, breaking the tense silence of the office. The cheerful notification tone startled him, sending a shiver down his spine.

He quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced at his phone.

It was a reply from a senior executive at Suhe Biotech.

[He Dayong: The Ghost Eye Group found some problematic items during their inspection today. It’s tricky to handle. President Zheng, do you think Han Jiang could help smooth things over? I’m willing to pay!]

[President Zheng, Suhe: That’s impossible. The Ghost Eye Group has already stopped investigating. Don’t overreact. In two days, District Six will be disbanded. Relax.]

Instead of relief, He Dayong felt an even greater weight settle in his chest.

It was as if a single straw had been placed on the unsteady scales of his mind, tipping the balance completely.

The matter that weighed so heavily on him—one that concerned Meijiang Pharmaceuticals and his family’s future—was dismissed lightly by a, “Relax.”

He began to doubt whether he had already been abandoned.

If the Ghost Eye Group truly had given up their investigation, what reason would Cen Xiao have to persist just two days before District Six’s dissolution?

President Zheng’s reply increasingly seemed like a mere pacifier. By the time He Dayong realized this and tried to take action, it might already be too late.

He knew well that Meijiang Pharmaceuticals was insignificant compared to Suhe Biotech. Yangshi’s remote location made it peripheral to Suhe Biotech’s network of interests centered around A City.

Suhe Biotech could easily replace him with another “tentacle” elsewhere.

He Dayong felt like a fish stranded in a shallow puddle, with no options but to wait helplessly for the end.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he considered typing another message to President Zheng, but a wave of intense nausea surged through him, followed by a crushing sense of despair.

Li Rong, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in He Dayong’s mood. Though unaware of what He Dayong had received, he sensed it was favorable to their cause.

In truth, the imposing authority that Li Rong and Cen Xiao projected was a façade.

Their bluff about leveraging He Dayong’s connections to inquire with Districts One and Four wouldn’t withstand scrutiny. If He Dayong genuinely reached out to Jian Changli or Hu Yuming, they would certainly deny everything, unraveling the entire pretense.

If that happened, extracting further information from He Dayong would be nearly impossible.

Thus, Li Rong had no intention of giving He Dayong too much time to think. With a faint smile, he softened his gaze and said, “President He, do you remember why you made two versions of Yuansheng? The white horse symbolizes purity and victory, while the gray horse represents death. Who was that message intended for?”

Li Rong rose slowly as he spoke, each step toward He Dayong pressing heavily on the latter’s already frayed conscience.

Standing before He Dayong, Li Rong gazed at the bloated, flushed, and ordinary face. His tone carried no mockery or scorn, only a trace of pity.

“I know this wasn’t Suhe Biotech’s idea. It was yours.”

With that, Li Rong reached out and tugged at the chain around He Dayong’s neck, pulling out a silver cross adorned with a green diamond.

The cross was exquisite yet coldly indifferent.

Hearing mention of the white horse, He Dayong’s thoughts involuntarily followed Li Rong’s lead. Caught off guard, he shrank back in fear, his skin tightening as the cross was exposed to the light.

He instinctively lowered his head to hide it, but his arms felt as heavy as lead and refused to move.

His gaze fixed on the shining cross, as if it were engulfed in flames, the fire searing his conscience.

The flames were agonizing, yet he couldn’t look away, drawn by the promise of warmth and redemption.

Seeing He Dayong ensnared in the emotional trap, Li Rong seized the opportunity to press further.

“You know what Suhe Biotech has done. You know what you’ve done. This industry’s darkness carries your shadow. So why did you push He Changfeng to study biochemistry? To inherit your dirty legacy? To follow in your footsteps and disregard human lives? Why haven’t you told him the truth?”

The mention of He Changfeng’s name jolted He Dayong like a puppet reacting to a vital keyword.

“My… my son? He Changfeng? How do you know my son?”

Li Rong responded with a knowing expression, silently watching him.

He Dayong’s muddled thoughts began to clear. Muttering, he said, “Oh, right. You’re a student at A University. My son is, too…”

The realization brought fresh waves of fear.

As overwhelming information swirled around him, his thoughts were a tangled mess. He didn’t know how to protect himself—or He Changfeng.

Li Rong slowly pulled a recorder from his pocket and held it up to He Dayong’s face before pressing play.

After a few seconds of static, He Changfeng’s voice emerged from the device:

“When I graduate, I’m going to expand our family business and make it better. If I don’t change anything, what’s the point of studying biochemistry?”

“…Innovative drugs still lag far behind international standards. Once I take over our company, I will close this gap!”

Finally, Li Rong responded warmly but solemnly, “Alright, I look forward to that day.”

He Dayong stared blankly at the recorder. Though it had been turned off, He Changfeng’s voice replayed endlessly in his mind as if on a loop.

Having crawled back from the brink of despair, he thought he could handle any pressure. But these innocent words from He Changfeng broke him.

He always believed his son was still young—immature in speech and behavior. He had thought of him as arrogant, rebellious, and dismissive of his admonitions.

But he was wrong.

He Changfeng had absorbed all of his father’s repeated exhortations, even boasting about them to others with pride.

He Dayong’s mouth slightly agape, his fingers twitched involuntarily, and before he realized it, his vision blurred as tears rolled uncontrollably down his face.

He couldn’t believe he was crying in front of two “enemies.”

He clumsily wiped his face with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming as though his tear glands had rebelled against him, stubbornly betraying his composure.

In truth, he didn’t even know why he insisted on He Changfeng following this path. He couldn’t determine if it was his son’s wish or his own will imposed on him.

He too had once held such innocent dreams.

Now, he had succeeded, and He Changfeng had genuinely taken those innocent aspirations as his own goals. Yet the success only brought him immense pain.

Li Rong observed He Dayong’s attempts to suppress his sobs but found his sorrowful state not ridiculous, only deeply pitiful.

“He Dayong, how will you face He Changfeng’s dreams? Will you tell him it’s all a lie? Expose the wrongs you’ve done and shatter his admiration for you? Let his values from the past decade collapse entirely? How dare you educate He Changfeng to be a good person when a good person cannot bear such truths.”

He Dayong’s eyes were bloodshot, his coarse, weathered face streaked with tears.

After a long silence, he finally shut his eyes and sighed heavily, “A falling house cannot be propped up by one beam.”

He shook his head, let out a bitter laugh, and grabbed the now-cold tea behind him. He drank deeply, swallowing the tea dregs floating on the surface without care.

The cold tea calmed him slightly.

Grabbing a tissue, he hastily wiped his face and then lifted his still-flushed eyes to fix his gaze on Li Rong. “I underestimated you. Who exactly are you?”

Li Rong was silent for a moment before replying in a low voice, “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, it depends on what you plan to do.”

He Dayong scrutinized Li Rong’s composed yet sharp face, trying to uncover any hidden emotions or secrets beneath his exterior.

But there was nothing—not even anger.

At such a critical moment, with He Dayong having lost all composure, Li Rong remained eerily calm, like an emotionless automaton, his clear and sharp eyes harboring only questions, void of any other emotion.

He Dayong averted his gaze and stared at the tiled floor. His aging eyes blurred as the diamond-shaped patterns transformed into ominous, unrelenting vortices, pulling him deeper into despair.

Murmuring to himself, he asked, “If I tell you what you want to know, will you really leave me a way out?”

Li Rong glanced back at Cen Xiao.

Cen Xiao’s dark eyes glimmered faintly as he nodded gently, his tone soothing, “You can make any decision you want.”

Whatever decision you make, I will bear the consequences.

A faint smile flickered in Li Rong’s eyes as he turned back to He Dayong. “Speak.”

He Dayong’s throat tightened. Breathing felt laborious, as if sandpaper had scraped his voice box, causing searing pain with every word.

Yet, he forced out his response, word by word: “I did indeed do something significant for Suhe Biotech.”