The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 118

Hours later, Li Rong laid on the bed drenched in sweat, too tired to even lift a finger.  

After his sweat dried, Cen Xiao stubbornly dragged him to the bathroom for a shower. Li Rong, lazing on the bed, nearly fell asleep with his eyes half-closed.  

Cen Xiao forcibly scooped him up from the bed, carried him to the bathroom, half-coaxing, half-pushing him along.  

After his shower, Li Rong felt refreshed but didn’t want to lie on the sweaty sheets again.  

They ended up pulling off the bed linens, stuffing them into the washing machine, and putting on fresh ones.  

As soon as the new sheets were laid, Li Rong burrowed into the blanket, yawned, and closed his eyes.  

Cen Xiao, amused, asked him, “So, did I inherit some of those skills?”  

Li Rong’s eyelids fluttered. He mumbled, “Sleep, sleep. Aren’t you reviewing tomorrow?”  

Cen Xiao pressed on, “Some questions, when are you going to account for some things?”  

Li Rong stretched his arm out from under the blanket, turned off the bedroom light, and forcibly ended the conversation. “After exams.”  

Having just resolved the Meijiang Pharmaceuticals issue, Li Rong wanted to let his mind rest for a few days.  

The tangled affairs from his previous life didn’t need immediate resolution.  

During exam week, life for Li Rong and Cen Xiao finally returned to normal.  

Li Rong hadn’t returned to his dorm for several days. He wasn’t sure what He Dayong might have told He Changfeng or what the next encounter with He Changfeng would be like.  

To be fair, He Changfeng had never offended him. He even once treated him to a bottle of mineral water.  

Li Rong certainly didn’t feel guilty or regretful about using He Changfeng.  

He was only resigned to the necessity of hurting individuals to achieve his goals.  

Li Rong’s exam week ended a week earlier than Cen Xiao’s. After exams, the winter break was near. While students weren’t officially allowed to leave campus, enforcement was lax.  

He needed to return to the dorm to send his clothes for laundry and cover the bed and quilt with plastic to prevent dust.  

When he arrived, He Changfeng, who usually occupied the dorm, was absent, and instead, he saw Song He.  

Without He Changfeng around, Song He stood at the fridge retrieving something. Spotting Li Rong, Song He was visibly surprised. “Why are you back?”  

Li Rong smiled lightly. “It’s my dorm. Why wouldn’t I come back?”  

Song He pursed his lips, turned his gaze away, and muttered, “That’s not what I meant. I thought you’d gone home.”  

Li Rong: “You’re not going home?”  

Song He took a tomato from the fridge, washed it under the faucet, and shook his head. “I can do some part-time work over the break. Going home would be a waste of time.”  

Li Rong observed Song He’s lean figure and watched as he hastily washed the tomato. He didn’t speak for a while.  

Previously, he’d often seen He Changfeng take things from the fridge. It was always stocked with premium imported fruits like cherries and kiwis, leaving little room for anyone else’s items.  

Though He Changfeng didn’t mind sharing, Li Rong suspected Song He never touched He Changfeng’s things.  

“Where’s He Changfeng?” Li Rong asked.  

He noticed a lot more space in the fridge, which explained why Song He’s tomatoes fit inside.  

After rinsing the tomato, Song He shook the water off his hands and casually wiped them on his clothes. “He went home after exams. His family… well, never mind.”  

Song He frowned slightly. He didn’t want to gossip about He Changfeng’s family matters, even if the entire grade likely knew about them.  

Li Rong tilted his head slightly, watching as Song He bit into the tomato. Song He lowered his head, his nape’s protruding bones making him look even skinnier.  

Li Rong suddenly asked, “Why are you looking for part-time jobs again?”  

The word “again” made Song He pause and snap his head up to stare at Li Rong in surprise.  

He had never told his roommates about looking for part-time work. How did Li Rong know?

“You…”

Li Rong shook his head with a faint, helpless smile. “Since you’ve decided to stop keeping an eye on me, can you tell me who asked you to do it?”

He believed Song He wasn’t naive and could understand the implication behind his words.

Song He’s eyes widened in shock, his face frozen in place. Tomato juice dripped through his fingers and soaked into his sleeve, but he seemed oblivious.

Li Rong said softly, “It wasn’t hard to figure out. Sometimes, your behavior was just too stiff.”

But he understood that someone as proud and solitary as Song He wouldn’t lower himself to such tactics without a reason. 

Song He must have been under significant pressure lately, leading him to choose part-time work over going home for the holidays—preferring the strain of work to being at someone else’s mercy.

Song He swallowed hard, his arms falling limply by his side, and his face flushed in embarrassment. He wanted to disappear.

He had thought he was being discreet, careful. Yet Li Rong had known all along and had chosen not to expose him. 

Song He felt like a clown, with his actions obvious to the very person he had been observing.

With a bitter taste in his mouth, he spoke quietly, “I wasn’t spying on you. I just had to pass along updates—how your health was, your studies, your mood, any family issues, or challenges in daily life… That’s all.”

“But you rarely came back to the dorms, and I hardly ever saw you. We’re not even in the same class. I didn’t really know how you were doing. The only valuable piece of information I reported was that you got sick and recovered. I don’t think the person who asked me to do this was trying to spy on you. It felt more like they were concerned about you.”

“But I couldn’t do much. I felt guilty taking the money, so I decided to quit.”

Li Rong froze for a moment.

Actually, he had a vague suspicion of this explanation from the start. He just couldn’t believe it. Apart from Cen Xiao and his close friends, someone else genuinely cared about him?

It was absurd.

“Who?” Li Rong asked.

Song He hesitated, his face conflicted. “He told me not to tell you.”

Li Rong’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice turning cold. “You say this isn’t spying but caring? Yet you never asked for my consent. I don’t need someone watching me from the shadows—it makes me feel like I’m being stabbed in the back. Would you like this if it happened to you?”

“You justify it by focusing on the intention, but your methods lack integrity. So how can the intention be considered just?”

Song He sighed. He knew he was in the wrong. In the end, he had taken advantage of Li Rong to make money.

Gritting his teeth, he finally blurted, “Professor Jiang Weide. That honorary professor at the Hongsuo Research Institute. A big name. I was just as surprised when he approached me.”

“I always thought you were a bit better off than me, but nowhere near someone like He Changfeng. Turns out you’re not ordinary either. He’s got a rich dad running a business, and you’ve got a renowned professor in your family.”

Song He had assumed Jiang Weide must be related to Li Rong—perhaps an uncle or some other family connection. He figured Jiang Weide was worried about Li Rong’s future after he joined Zhang Zhaohe’s class, which was why he asked Song He to keep tabs on him.

Even though the methods weren’t exactly honorable, Song He couldn’t deny that he felt envious.

Some people just have it easier in life, surrounded by a halo of advantages and shielded by powerful connections.

No wonder Li Rong was so laid back in Zhang Zhaohe’s class. No wonder he didn’t seem to care about studying.

With Jiang Weide in his corner, Li Rong didn’t need to worry about his future. From the moment he enrolled, he was already ahead in the race.

But Song He didn’t have that. He had to claw his way forward, squeezing in part-time jobs, lying awake at night worrying about his younger sister’s illness and whether the family could afford her medication for the next year.

While others traveled during holidays, spent time with family, or relaxed with movies and TV, he didn’t have that luxury.

He had no choice.

Li Rong noticed the self-mocking tone in Song He’s last sentence.

After learning about He Changfeng’s background, Song He must have struggled with feelings of inferiority.

Living alongside such glaring differences was bound to stir up insecurities.

Li Rong’s lips curved slightly, his expression calm. “Jiang Weide isn’t my relative. I’ve only met him once—at my parents’ funeral.”

Song He froze. “Fu….neral?”

Li Rong’s parents were… gone?

Without elaborating, Li Rong turned to lock his dorm room door, slipping the key into his pocket. He grabbed a bag of laundry, bent down, and lifted it.

“If you’ve quit, I guess I’ll start coming back to the dorm more often next semester.”

Song He clenched his fists silently, his face pale. “Then why does Jiang Weide care about you?”

Li Rong shrugged indifferently. “No idea. Maybe he pities me.”

With that, Li Rong left, carrying the bag.

Song He remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts swirling.

So Li Rong didn’t have parents. And Jiang Weide wasn’t a relative. What had he been envying all this time?

Meanwhile, as Li Rong walked out of the dorm, his expression darkened.

The revelation that Jiang Weide was behind this surveillance caught him off guard. And not for any ulterior motive, but simply out of concern for his life and studies—checking if he had enough money.

This semester, Song He had provided Jiang Weide with barely any useful information. Yet Jiang Weide still funded him without complaint, as if indifferent to his money being wasted.

Song He, in truth, was a student who had fallen through the cracks of the system—needing financial aid but missing out due to technicalities.

What exactly was Jiang Weide trying to achieve?

Li Rong felt a headache coming on.

The memories he had buried deep in his mind resurfaced, as if a dust-covered screen had been wiped clean, revealing each and every moment vividly before him.

Jiang Weide, who brought him homemade breakfast every day; Jiang Weide, who diligently guided him through his research projects; Jiang Weide, wearing reading glasses, wandering across two floors to find him and asking for help registering an online shopping account.

Jiang Weide, scolding him for wearing thin pants, warning him he’d develop chronic leg pain in the future; Jiang Weide, so meticulous with research reimbursements that he’d practically cover the cost of printing paper for him;Jiang Weide, who, when the Hongsuo Research Institute sent seafood to honorary professors, used his position to secure an entire box just for him…