The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 144

Pinned down, Li Rong simply sprawled out on the ground, arms outstretched, gazing up at the clear, cloudless blue sky while catching his breath.

He hadn’t felt it while running, but now that he had stopped, the discomfort in his lungs and throat was apparent. Fortunately, he was young, and after lying down for a while, his breathing gradually steadied.

Cen Xiao sat down beside him. The area’s landscaping had turned into a wild overgrowth of grass. The old experimental building had been out of use for three decades. Some rooms, untouched by experiments, had been converted into staff housing, but even those were rarely used now. Only the occasional administrator came by to check or clean.

“I’ve never been here before. What made you think to run this way?”

Li Rong turned his head toward Cen Xiao, his throat dry as he replied haltingly, “When you’re running… you don’t think much… just go where there aren’t people.”

Cen Xiao grabbed his hand, playing with the soft palm. “I asked my mom to look into Han Ying’s situation. I forgot to tell you earlier.”

Li Rong blinked and pinched Cen Xiao’s thumb with two fingers. Cen Xiao’s gentle movements tickled his palm. “What did she say?”

Cen Xiao stopped moving, letting Li Rong hold his thumb as he said slowly, “Han Ying came back this time because an elder in his family is ill. Previously, the elder could still travel abroad to see him, but now they can’t. Han Jiang values family and filial piety and is afraid this might be the last meeting, so he agreed to Han Ying’s return. He’ll likely stay in the country until the elder passes away. But Han Ying doesn’t actually have much affection for a grandmother he only sees once every year or two. He wanted to return because his wife is causing trouble at home, and he’s hooked up with Jiang Zeng again. Using the excuse of visiting his grandmother, he’s rekindling an old flame.”

Li Rong snorted. “Does his mom know all this drama?”

Cen Xiao replied, “She does. And luckily, Han Jiang avoids mixing family matters with work, so he hasn’t told his wife about many things. Otherwise, my mom wouldn’t have been able to pry it out of her. His wife has been bored these past years—no job, just staying at home. Since Han Jiang doesn’t share much, all her attention is on her son. She knows Han Ying’s thoughts inside and out.”

The tender grass was tickling his neck, so Li Rong propped himself up. “What about the stuff from back then?”

Cen Xiao said, “After so many years, her guard has lowered. She’s willing to vent to my mom but hasn’t mentioned specifics about what happened. She only said she didn’t want Han Ying to go abroad. She preferred him to stay nearby, but Han Jiang insisted on sending him away. Han Jiang felt Han Ying was too arrogant and reckless, abusing his father’s status among his peers. He’d been busy with work and didn’t have time to manage Han Ying. Later, he worried Han Ying would ruin himself if it went on, so he sent him away for discipline. She also complained that Han Jiang was furious back then, feeling Han Ying was a disgrace to the family.”

Li Rong frowned slightly. “That’s what Han Jiang thought?”

Cen Xiao said, “That’s just his wife’s perspective. But knowing Han Jiang’s temperament, it’s very possible he felt that way. After all, being caught doing something like that in a lab is humiliating. If word got out, Han Jiang himself wouldn’t be able to save face.”

Li Rong let out a cold chuckle and then lowered his head to cough twice.

A gust of wind blew by, evaporating the sweat on his body, leaving him feeling slightly chilled.

Cen Xiao quickly fastened his jacket. “Since we’re already out here, why don’t we have lunch near the East Gate? I heard there’s a place with good braised pork rice.”

With a firm pull, he helped Li Rong up from the grass. Once Li Rong steadied himself, he obediently turned around, waiting for Cen Xiao to brush off the grass sticking to his back.

Li Rong’s clothes were white, making any dirt stand out clearly. Cen Xiao carefully dusted off the bits of grass clinging to his shirt and, with a bit of extra force, swatted his firm backside. “All done.”

Li Rong swayed slightly from the pat and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. He knew Cen Xiao was getting back at him for brushing his knee against that spot earlier. Fine, let him have his petty revenge—it wasn’t like it hurt through the thick layers of clothing.

Leaning back against him, Li Rong felt Cen Xiao naturally drape an arm over his shoulder as they started walking toward the East Gate.

Emerging from the weeds, they followed a broken brick path that wound its way onto the main road. They inevitably passed by a row of abandoned laboratories.

The old labs weren’t buildings but single-story structures. The windows were enclosed by iron bars, and white pipes once extended from holes in the walls to large white tanks outside.

The walls below the pipes were corroded, streaked with rust, and the area around the tanks had been so polluted that not even weeds grew within a few meters.

After the labs were abandoned, the tanks were removed, and the pipes dismantled. All that remained were black holes in the walls, now covered in cobwebs, and dust-coated, light-blocking windows.

Li Rong looked at the experimental conditions of decades past and couldn’t help but feel a pang of melancholy. Today’s facilities were much better, and research standards were more regulated—but those standards were hard-earned, forged through countless trials and errors by earlier generations.

Doing research was never easy. It required total focus, boundless passion, and the courage to face unforeseeable experimental risks and physical harm.

He knew many predecessors who, after years of working in experimental environments, suffered from chemical contamination, giving birth to children with defects and enduring a lifetime of pain.

Devoting oneself to science was already grueling enough. Yet even in a field meant to be pure and sacred, it was hard to avoid the stains of human selfishness. A great scientist not only needed professional expertise but also the wisdom to protect themselves.

“Look over there.” Cen Xiao tightened his arm around Li Rong’s shoulders, gesturing toward a rusted iron plaque near the window.

Li Rong snapped out of his thoughts and followed his gaze.

About a meter from the light-blocked window, there was an old nameplate. Time and weather had left it corroded beyond recognition, with only a single nail holding it precariously to the wall.

Leaning in closer, Li Rong could barely make out the faded letters through the brownish rust and grime—

“Zhu Yan XXX Laboratory.”

Decades ago, some laboratories were named after people—names weighty enough that anyone would instantly know their significance.

Zhu Yan, the current director of the Hongsuo Research Institute.

Li Rong glanced at Cen Xiao. “This was Zhu Yan’s lab.”

Cen Xiao murmured, “So Zhu Yan also mentored students at A University.”

Li Rong explained, “In those days, scholars almost always taught at universities. The retired elders from Hongsuo Research Institute either held positions at A University or other higher education institutions. Nowadays, though, many return to the country and go straight into research institutes.”

Realizing this was where Zhu Yan had once conducted experiments, Li Rong couldn’t help but examine the site more closely.

Peering through a crack in the broken window, he caught a whiff of thick, dusty air and immediately covered his nose and mouth.

The interior was nothing special—the typical setup of an old-style lab: sinks, workbenches, flasks, and metal cabinets for storing chemicals.

But now, it was crammed with discarded desks and chairs, colorless and tattered curtains, dried-out mops and brooms, and a severely peeling blackboard.

Li Rong straightened up, pondering for a moment. “There’s nothing much left to see. It’s been over thirty years—probably cleaned out countless times.”

Cen Xiao hadn’t expected much from the derelict site. It was just a coincidence that they stumbled upon Zhu Yan’s former lab.

His grandfather had always been tight-lipped, refusing to disclose why he disapproved of Zhu Yan—even going so far as to describe it as the literary world’s notorious tendency to disparage one another.

But Cen Xiao didn’t think Zhu Yan fit the mold of a literary figure, nor did he seem to have any direct rivalry with his grandfather. So why the disdain?

“Let’s grab lunch first,” Cen Xiao said, just as he was about to pull Li Rong away when his phone rang.

He answered on speaker.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Jian Fu’s energetic voice boomed. “Bro, are you and the giant panda free for lunch? The little celebrity just wrapped up the top-twenty elimination and is leading the vote again. He’s got a rare day off.”

Lin Zhen’s voice followed quickly. “Actually, it’s because there are school classes. The show had to let me off for a day. Attending school is easier than filming.”

Cen Xiao looked at Li Rong. “Want to go?”

They were already far from the fountain square—returning would mean walking several kilometers.

Li Rong thought for a moment. Lin Zhen had already made it into the top ten, which meant the entertainment company’s recruitment plan would soon begin.

The top ten was the highest ranking an ordinary contestant could achieve. Going further would inevitably require the backing of a company.

After all, the competition wasn’t organized out of charity.

Li Rong said, “Let’s eat. We’ll grab a cab outside the east gate.”

Hearing Li Rong’s voice, Lin Zhen felt both reassured and excited. “Class monitor, the program team has arranged for us to go to an orphanage in Linshi next week to record a charity segment. Do you want me to bring you back any local specialties? I’ve heard the mountain produce there is pure and untouched by pesticides.”

Li Rong murmured, repeating to himself, “An orphanage in Linshi?”

It wasn’t unusual for variety shows to shoot outdoor segments or elevate their themes with charitable activities. It was just that orphanages had been a sensitive topic for him recently.

Cen Xiao couldn’t help but ask, “Which orphanage in Linshi?”

He knew that a high-profile variety show like this wouldn’t randomly choose a poor location for collaboration. Was it possible for just any struggling place to be selected? No, not for a show with Sohe Biotech as one of its investors.

Lin Zhen thought back and replied, “I think it’s called Little Orange Fragrance Orphanage.”

Jian Fu’s face instantly tensed. He asked, puzzled, “Little Orange Fragrance Orphanage? Isn’t that the same orphanage that participated in the first round of experimental trials for Luyinxu?”