The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 135

The truth, once uncovered, burst forth like a breached dam, destroying all the carefully crafted facades in an instant, submerging everything in murky waters.

After uttering those words, Jiang Zheng rubbed her pale lips and her face, strands of hair tucked behind her ears slipping through her fingers, adding to her disheveled appearance.

Geng An didn’t know who Xu Tanghui was. The events had happened so long ago. Seeing Jiang Zheng’s remorseful demeanor and hearing her description of Xu Tanghui, he figured she must have been a kind person. All he could feel was a sense of pity.

“This wasn’t entirely your fault,” he said, trying to comfort her. “After all, you didn’t have much influence back then. Even if you had dared to speak the truth, Han Jiang and Zhang Zhaohe wouldn’t have let you. Besides, you were just a university student at the time. It’s normal to lack courage in such situations.”

Li Rong silently agreed with Geng An’s reasoning.

Not everyone has the courage to speak out, especially when the person being wronged once helped you.

Stories often portray people with idealized virtues. But such instances are rare, which is why they are celebrated in tales and songs.

However, having witnessed Aunt Hui’s decade-long struggle and perseverance, Li Rong found it difficult to accept such excuses, no matter how reasonable they sounded.

He remained expressionless, saying nothing.

Geng An glanced at Li Rong secretly, sensing that Li Rong’s calmness suggested he had anticipated all this.

But that seemed impossible.

Geng An only knew that Han Jiang had targeted Cen Xiao from the beginning, intending to push Du Mingli into a position of power. Cen Xiao had to counterattack by gathering evidence against Han Jiang, preparing to oust him from his position as the leader of the Ghost Eye group if necessary.

From the moment Geng An was assigned to Cen Xiao’s team, he had no other choice. To succeed in the Ninth District, he had to fully support Cen Xiao.

Yet, judging by Li Rong’s demeanor, it seemed there were aspects of the story he wasn’t privy to.

But Geng An was smart. He never pried into matters he wasn’t supposed to know.

Jiang Zheng, somewhat comforted, pressed her pale lips together and lowered her hands, taking a deep breath.

“What do you need?”

She had already concluded that Geng An was helping her to bring down Han Jiang for his own gain. She decided there was no need to feign ignorance. The Han family had wronged her grievously—Han Jiang destroyed her future, and Han Ying repeatedly deceived her in matters of love.

For the sake of revenge, she was willing to cooperate in anything.

Li Rong still didn’t speak, as if he hadn’t heard Jiang Zheng’s words at all.

Geng An had seen this expression on Li Rong before—once at the Meijiang headquarters when Li Rong had looked at He Dayong.

One moment he was cheerful and laughing; the next, his demeanor turned stern and serious.

To Geng An, Li Rong differed from Cen Xiao in that Li Rong seemed to have a magnetic effect on people’s emotions.

When Li Rong smiled warmly, it reassured those around him. But the moment his face turned cold, the atmosphere immediately grew tense, making others both anxious and uneasy.

It was as though Li Rong was the focal point of everyone’s emotions and the pillar that stabilized morale.

Geng An believed anyone who had worked with Li Rong would have felt the same way.

It wasn’t mere leadership; Geng An couldn’t describe it precisely. It was as though Li Rong carried a magnetic field that subtly influenced everyone around him, and this influence was impossible to guard against.

As expected, Li Rong’s silence unsettled Jiang Zheng, making her appear more anxious.

“Even though so much time has passed, I still dream about those events. I remember every detail,” she said, almost involuntarily, as if trying to prove her worth to Li Rong, to demonstrate that she was indeed the key to bringing down Han Jiang.

Finally, Li Rong tilted his head slightly, his lips parting as he spoke in a calm tone. “Then explain in detail what exactly happened back then.”

Although he had already pieced together much of the truth, Jiang Zheng’s firsthand account was still crucial.

Hearing his question, Jiang Zheng seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“It was Han Ying. I don’t know how many relationships he’s had, but he’s incredibly skilled at charming girls with a variety of tricks. I was a reserved person who hadn’t seen much of the world. During the time I was with him, I experienced the ‘excitement’ of the world and fell deeply into his trap. That day, Han Ying said he wanted to meet me in the lab. I don’t know if you can understand, but for someone as conservative and restrained as I was, breaking the rules felt like a rare indulgence—a kind of spiritual opium that became impossible to resist after just one taste.”

Geng An rubbed his nose awkwardly. “I seem to remember your roommate saying you changed a lot after you started dating. Looks like Han Ying really influenced you.”

Jiang Zheng forced a faint smile. “At the time, we were all working on our graduation projects. My project required me to check on the culture medium in the lab every day, so it was easy to bring him in late at night. At first, I thought Han Ying was interested in the lab or my work, so I agreed. But it turned out his intentions were…”

Even after all these years, Jiang Zheng found it difficult to articulate. But she believed Li Rong and Geng An would understand. Two young people, alone in a quiet lab late at night—it was evident what Han Ying had in mind.

She had even changed into her lab coat as soon as she entered. Although it was just an ordinary white coat, to Han Ying, it carried a forbidden allure.

Geng An awkwardly averted his gaze, pretending to remain calm as he sipped from his teacup.

He simply couldn’t comprehend this kind of thrill-seeking. Moreover, laboratories surely had surveillance cameras. Even if the quality back then was rather poor, wouldn’t any normal person feel shame rather than excitement?

Li Rong remained calm, but his words were sharp: “He didn’t value you at all.”

Because he didn’t value her, he prioritized his desires over Jiang Zheng’s reputation and safety. Because he didn’t value her, he exposed her to thrilling experiences she’d never sought, forcefully shattering her safe and pure world and dragging her into the abyss. Because he didn’t value her, he abandoned her after the incident, leaving her to face the coercion and pressure from all sides alone.

Responsibility isn’t something people suddenly learn as they age. Some never learn it at all.

Jiang Zheng gritted her teeth, a glimmer of belated anger rising in her eyes.

Her hatred for Han Ying was, in truth, simple. Most of her resentment now stemmed from the fact that Han Ying, while still married, lived lovingly with his foreign wife while treating her—his supposed “true love”—as an inconsequential plaything.

If Han Ying had divorced and genuinely wanted to rekindle their relationship, perhaps she would have foolishly fallen for him again.

But because Han Ying had betrayed her feelings and, recalling the mistreatment she endured back then, Jiang Zheng was willing to help Geng An overthrow Han Jiang to exact revenge on Han Ying.

Now, Li Rong’s single comment had cut through the confusion in her heart, piercing it deeply.

He didn’t value her.

Those words struck her profoundly. In her attempts to escape reality, she had invented countless excuses for Han Ying: He was young—three years younger than her—so it was natural she should bear more responsibility. He truly loved her but had no choice under Han Jiang’s pressure. He wasn’t avoiding her intentionally; he was merely terrified of his father, who treated even his own son ruthlessly.

But reality was cruel. She had been blind. Of all the things Han Ying did back then, which were truly for her benefit?

He didn’t value her. Perhaps, even without the incident, he would have moved on to the next senior after her graduation to experience more excitement.

Jiang Zheng scooped up a large bite of cake, stuffing it into her mouth and chewing forcefully, as though swallowing her disgust and anger along with it.

The small cake had been sitting out for too long, slightly melted. Its texture was damp and not as enjoyable.

She licked the cream off her lips and stammered: “At that time… things were intense. Han Ying accidentally knocked into a newly imported piece of laboratory equipment. At the time, there were only five units like it at A University, and each cost several million yuan. I was terrified. If I had to pay for it, I absolutely couldn’t afford it. If this got out, I didn’t know how others would see me—I wouldn’t have the face to keep living. Honestly, Han Ying was scared too. He hadn’t expected the equipment to be so casually placed on a desk without being secured. But being as arrogant as he was, he made bold claims that his father would handle it and there’d be no problem. I think he was just bluffing. If word got out, it would’ve damaged Han Jiang’s reputation far beyond the cost. Han Jiang cared most about his image, not the money.”

Compensation for damages was a longstanding rule at A University. Students who accidentally broke things, like a classroom window during sports or caused flooding from damaging heating pipes, were required to pay after the incident was formally reported.

But this wasn’t a minor expense. Laboratory equipment worth millions wasn’t something an ordinary family could cover, especially given the disgraceful circumstances surrounding its damage.

Jiang Zheng continued: “As embarrassing as this was, there was still a chance to make amends at that point. Han Ying had money, and I… I could’ve found a respectable job after graduation and slowly repaid my part. But soon, that chance was gone, because the sound of the equipment falling was loud enough to wake the laboratory manager, Xu Tanghui.”

She lowered her head, lost in thought.

Everything felt like a cruel twist of fate. The lab wasn’t a place to bring unauthorized people. She had deliberately avoided Xu Tanghui to sneak Han Ying in. Han Ying, in his quest for thrills, turned off the lab lights, which led to him knocking over the equipment. The lab’s marble flooring amplified the crash, waking Xu Tanghui, who was already a light sleeper.

Jiang Zheng said: “I was completely at a loss, standing frozen in the lab. The darkness gave me the illusion of hiding my guilt, but the faint light from outside left nowhere to hide. Then we heard the manager’s footsteps. The sound echoed in the corridor, clear as day in the silent lab. Because we turned off the lights, the manager didn’t know which room the noise had come from and started checking each one. Eventually, she’d find us. Han Ying suggested we run as soon as she entered another lab. I had no choice but to follow his lead.”

If Xu Tanghui hadn’t heard the noise, hadn’t come over, or hadn’t seen Han Ying’s face, perhaps none of what followed would have happened.

Maybe Han Jiang would have quietly paid for the damage and covered up the incident instead of shifting the blame onto someone else.

Jiang Zheng stared blankly at the wood grain of the table. The tree-ring-like patterns resembled a series of closed cages, offering no escape.

“When we heard her enter the adjacent lab, Han Ying opened the door, and we ran. But we hadn’t discussed which way to go, so we ended up running in opposite directions. I ran toward the inner staircase, while Han Ying headed for the main exit. I was lucky; the staircase was nearby, and I quickly ran upstairs. Han Ying… Han Ying ran straight into Xu Tanghui. I heard her shout, ‘Who are you?’ but Han Ying ignored her and must have kept running. I didn’t dare make a sound or leave my hiding spot. I spent the whole night trembling on the lab staircase.”

That night, she shivered, paralyzed with fear.

She texted Han Ying, but he never replied. She had never felt so helpless—or so regretful.

The teapot on the table had gone completely cold, but no one called for the owner to add hot water. A few fragments of tea leaves remained at the bottom of Li Rong’s cup. He raised his hand and casually tipped the remaining tea and leaves out.

Jiang Zheng paused, glanced at Li Rong’s expression, and only continued speaking after confirming he looked unperturbed. “Later, as you can probably guess, Han Ying was discovered. I thought we were done for—public criticism, calls to our families, and the entire school looking at us with judgmental eyes. Back then, I was actually relieved that I was about to graduate. But the next day, everything changed.”

Geng An sighed deeply. “You guys pinned everything on Xu Tanghui.”

Jiang Zheng’s mouth felt dry, and hearing Geng An’s remark, she still felt the shame and humiliation of that time.

“It was Zhang Zhaohe who first approached me. He said he already knew about my situation. I was helpless and terrified, begging him not to tell my parents. I was even ready to kneel before him. But he told me that since the incident involved Han Ying, it had very serious implications, so Han Jiang would handle it personally. All I needed to do was cooperate. He assured me that if I cooperated, everything would be fine, and I wouldn’t have to pay for the damages. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anything else. Hearing that I could avoid responsibility, I agreed without hesitation. Back then, I even felt lucky that Han Ying had connections, that he could shield me from harm.”

Hearing this, Li Rong frowned slightly.

According to Jiang Zheng’s account, Zhang Zhaohe approached her the very next day and said Han Jiang would personally handle the matter, asking her to cooperate. 

However, despite being Jiang Zheng’s class teacher, Zhang Zhaohe’s status was hardly significant enough to warrant Han Jiang’s attention.

Even if the typically arrogant Han Ying immediately realized the gravity of the situation and confessed everything to Han Jiang, it seemed unlikely that Han Jiang could so quickly overcome his anger, calmly clean up the mess, erase all the surveillance footage, and fabricate a story to pacify Jiang Zheng. Moreover, it made no sense for Han Jiang to involve Zhang Zhaohe in pressuring her.

This matter should be known to as few people as possible. The fewer people aware of it, the safer it will be, as keeping the information confined to the “tip of the pyramid” ensures security. After all, everyone at the pyramid’s top holds an extraordinary status and would be reluctant to provoke Han Jiang easily.

There’s no logical reason for Han Jiang to have an ordinary person like Zhang Zhaohe pressure Jiang Zheng.

In the eyes of the students, Zhang Zhaohe has no authority whatsoever. Telling Zhang Zhaohe everything and entrusting him to coerce and entice Jiang Zheng, despite not knowing whether he could withstand the weight of his conscience, seems pointless.

Isn’t Han Jiang worried that Zhang Zhaohe, being straightforward, might betray him at a critical moment?

However, Li Rong kept his suspicions to himself and did not interrupt Jiang Zheng.

Jiang Zheng continued, “I thought this matter would quietly blow over until news from the lab came out. They said a lab manager accidentally damaged the school’s precision instruments. There were leaked photos on the forum, and the equipment was the one Han Ying knocked over. The manager blamed was Xu Tanghui. I never expected this to be Han Jiang’s solution. Because Xu Tanghui saw Han Ying’s face, Han Jiang didn’t let her off, pouring dirty water on her!”

As Jiang Zheng spoke, her voice trembled with suppressed anger, and she began to sob intermittently.

It was Han Jiang’s cruelty that had burdened her with guilt for so many years.

Geng An gave a wry smile and said, “In District Nine, there’s a piece of history: the first head of the Ghost Eye Unit sent his own son to jail on charges of assault to prove the unit’s impartiality and dedication to serving the people. At that time, with his status, he had plenty of ways to resolve the issue quietly. But for the sake of the unit’s reputation, he still did it. Since then, the Ghost Eye Unit gradually earned people’s trust. But now, in Han Jiang’s era, it’s really ironic.”

Li Rong pondered.

That old story… no one knows the truth anymore.

It’s said that the head’s son insisted he was innocent. Because he refused to confess, his sentence was never reduced. After serving his full time, he severed ties with his father.

Some say the head had already remarried and was expecting a new child, so his relationship with his son had long been strained.

Despite having many ways to solve the problem, the head’s dramatic choice to send his son to prison seemed more like a calculated move to establish authority.

But time erases traces, leaving only rumors.

Even so, Han Jiang’s actions were baffling.

Even if Xu Tanghui had seen Han Ying’s face and was determined to report him, Han Jiang could’ve handled it privately. Aunt Hui wasn’t the kind of person who would cling stubbornly. If Han Ying had compensated for the equipment and paid a price, she wouldn’t have insisted on ruining two students’ lives.

Why did Han Jiang have to smear Aunt Hui’s name? Was it, as Jiang Zheng suggested, because he found her inconvenient and wanted to vent his anger?

Jiang Zheng forced a smile at Geng An, trying to calm herself. “Han Jiang is truly despicable. Because Xu Tanghui had once lent me a sanitary pad, I felt deeply sorry for her. At that time, I went to Zhang Zhaohe and asked him if he could stop framing her. Zhang Zhaohe told me that since the equipment broke during Xu Tanghui’s shift, she was naturally responsible. The school couldn’t keep her, and taking the blame was the best outcome for everyone. Otherwise, it would’ve been hard to explain things. Zhang Zhaohe also said the school knew her family wasn’t well-off and wouldn’t make her pay in full. They just wanted to wrap things up quickly. He even said this wouldn’t affect her too much because she was a small figure, someone no one would remember, just like how many organizations blame mistakes on temporary workers or interns.”

Back then, as a college student, Jiang Zheng didn’t know much and had no choice but to believe him.

Unfortunately, she didn’t realize that just as Xu Tanghui was a small figure, so was she. If they could sacrifice Xu Tanghui, they could just as easily sacrifice her.

Jiang Zheng continued softly, “This matter should have ended there. The school even issued a public notice. But things didn’t go as planned. Xu Tanghui refused to admit she damaged the equipment. She said she saw a student and that identifying them could prove her innocence. But at that time, the surveillance footage mysteriously disappeared. With no evidence beyond her word, no one believed her—or rather, no one should have believed her. But…”

“But what?” Geng An, sensing her hesitation, urged her on.

Jiang Zheng shook her head self-mockingly. “But there isn’t only one voice in the world. Back then, Li Qingli, who taught polymer chemistry to Class One, insisted that Xu Tanghui was framed. He argued the case was full of holes and demanded a reinvestigation. Honestly, I can’t believe he didn’t know. How could it be so coincidental that the surveillance footage just happened to be gone? It was clearly a cover-up, and everyone tacitly accepted it. But he went against the current, insisting on justice. Do you remember the news from two years ago about Li Qingli? That huge scandal? I’m sure it was tied to Han Jiang. If Han Jiang could retaliate against Xu Tanghui back then, he could definitely retaliate against Li Qingli for causing him trouble.”

Geng An had heard about Li Qingli and Gu Nong’s incident since it was somewhat related to his undergraduate field. He had read all the news about it, felt emotional for a few days, and then forgotten it.

He wasn’t aware of the connection between Li Rong and Li Qingli.

Li Rong casually played with the small teacup in his hand, indifferent to Jiang Zheng’s words.

Clearing her throat, Jiang Zheng said, “Anyway, I was anxious for a long time, but the matter finally settled down. Xu Tanghui was expelled from the university, and I thought I could finally be at peace and stay with Han Ying. But Zhang Zhaohe told me we couldn’t be together, saying it wouldn’t be good for either of us. He also said Han Ying was leaving the country and that I should delete all our records together. Of course, I refused, but by then, I couldn’t reach Han Ying. Zhang Zhaohe said he couldn’t help me if I didn’t comply with Han Jiang’s demands and that my graduation would be in jeopardy because the broken equipment had delayed my final project. I couldn’t risk my future, and I had already gotten used to obeying their instructions.”

Geng An asked, “Did you really delete everything?”

Jiang Zheng shook her head and choked out, “They said if they found out I didn’t comply, they wouldn’t let me off. They even threatened to tell my parents about what happened in the lab. Whether it was failing to graduate or being humiliated in front of my parents, either would have been devastating to me at the time. I had no choice but to stay silent.”

Geng An sighed regretfully.

The technology back then wasn’t as advanced; forums were shut down and disappeared, and there was no cloud storage to recover deleted photos. Once erased, they were gone forever.

After more than a decade, much of the evidence had been thoroughly destroyed. Jiang Zheng was the only lead left, but…

Li Rong said indifferently, “Things that happen always leave traces.”

In the previous timeline, Du Mingli was able to bring down Han Jiang, and it wasn’t through empty accusations. He must have had irrefutable evidence against Han Jiang.

That evidence must still exist.

Jiang Zheng nervously swallowed, her gaze evasive, as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t bring herself to do so.

Li Rong raised his sharp eyes to Jiang Zheng, his gaze piercing like a steel needle driving into her heart. “Jiang Zheng, Xu Tanghui has been selling cotton gloves at A University’s square for over ten years. Her husband couldn’t bear it and divorced her. Her family called her insane and a lunatic. She’s suffered endlessly, enduring humiliation, all to clear her name. You can ask any student at A University—everyone knows about that stubborn fool at the square waiting for a truth that will never come!

And look at yourself. You were threatened, manipulated, and dragged into the vortex of framing others, your emotions toyed with, and your rights stripped away. All your tragedies stemmed from Han Ying’s irresponsibility and the calculated schemes of Han Jiang and Zhang Zhaohe. You claim Li Qingli didn’t understand the idea of laying low and went against the grain, but ask yourself: as a powerless individual, when disaster befalls you, do you hope the world is full of people like Han Jiang and Zhang Zhaohe, or do you hope there’s someone like Li Qingli who will stand up for you?”

He suddenly slammed the teacup onto the table with a heavy thud, the impact reverberating through the wooden surface and directly into Jiang Zheng’s heart. She looked at him, wide-eyed with fear, two large tears rolling down her cheeks.

Li Rong had never spoken so sternly to anyone. Even Geng An was stunned into silence.