The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 155

Li Rong glanced at the dumbfounded Jian Fu and said disdainfully, “Didn’t you already guess? Why are you acting so startled?”

Jian Fu swallowed hard, looking confused. “Wait, how did you know I guessed?”

Li Rong rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation.

Jian Fu muttered to himself, “You’re terrifying. Good thing I’m not your rival.”

He thought he’d hidden it well, only secretly exchanging thoughts with Lin Zhen. Yet, despite being constantly busy and tense recently, Li Rong had still noticed his change in demeanor.

How could this guy even be human?

Li Rong let out a light snort and leaned lazily against the seat. “Does it take a lot of brainpower to figure out what you’re thinking?”

Cen Xiao lightly pressed his lips, as if still feeling the warmth of Li Rong’s kiss. Then, with an air of calm, he looked at Jian Fu and said, “Once you’re done being shocked, clean up that yogurt.”

Jian Fu looked down to see the mess of white liquid all over the car seat.

“…”

For ten minutes, Jian Fu diligently cleaned up the spilled yogurt on the seat and floor mat. Despite his efforts, the car still carried a faint mango-pineapple aroma.

After dropping Jian Fu and the soiled paper towels at the Jian family’s door, Li Rong stretched his back. “Man, Jian Fu really is still a kid—he even drinks sugary yogurt.”

Cen Xiao raised an eyebrow and looked at him in surprise. “You don’t like sweets?”

Li Rong paused mid-stretch, glanced at Cen Xiao, and said seriously, “Me? I have a reasonable sugar intake.”

Cen Xiao responded with a faint “Oh.”

Jian Fu stood at his front door, staring at the yogurt-sticky paper towels in his hand. His mind kept replaying the scene of Li Rong kissing Cen Xiao.

Two men… could kiss like that?

Li Rong had done it so naturally, and it didn’t seem all that hard to accept.

And his brother? He looked like he had enjoyed it.

Jian Fu squeezed the sticky paper towels, feeling like he lacked composure.

Getting that shocked over a kiss—how uncultured.

But wait, was he the only one in their team who had seen this? 

What if Lin Zhen saw it—would he be just as surprised? Then again, Lin Zhen was an actor. The entertainment industry wasn’t exactly lacking in this kind of material, and Lin Zhen had probably even seen similar scenes in films.

For the first time in his life, Jian Fu was overwhelmed with thoughts. He reached for his doorbell but hesitated, pulling his hand back. After pacing a few circles, he tossed the paper towels into the trash, booked a car on his phone, and headed straight to Lin Zhen’s school dormitory.

Lin Zhen had just finished recording a show. He skipped the dinner banquet and rushed back to school, as he had classes the next day and had requested leave from the production team.

By the time Jian Fu arrived at Lin Zhen’s dormitory, it was already 10:30 PM. Freshmen at the film academy had an 11 PM curfew, so when Lin Zhen got Jian Fu’s call, he thought he misheard.

One of Lin Zhen’s roommates peeked out from his bed and teased, “Yo, big star, is it your ad sponsor calling to talk business?”

Lin Zhen rolled his eyes. “Stop talking nonsense, it’s a friend.”

The roommate made a suggestive clicking sound. “A friend? A friend at this hour? A girlfriend?”

Lin Zhen’s expression wavered as he stood up, slipped on his shoes, and replied, “You sending me a girlfriend?”

The roommate perked up, sitting cross-legged on his bed and drawing back the curtain. “Why are you so flustered? If it’s not a girlfriend, just let them come up. It’s cold outside.”

Lin Zhen paused. 

He had to admit, March nights were still chilly, especially at the wind-exposed dorm entrance. Too much exposure could lead to catching a cold, and with the program’s finale approaching, losing his voice now would be disastrous.

Besides, he was already in his pajamas and didn’t feel like changing. Jian Fu wasn’t a first-time visitor to his dorm anyway, and his roommates were familiar with him.

Lin Zhen sat back down and texted Jian Fu: [Why don’t you come up? I’m already in pajamas.]

Jian Fu wasn’t sure why he agreed to go up. He had intended to discuss something private with Lin Zhen, but maybe it was the biting wind outside—or perhaps it was that casual mention of “I’m already in pajamas.”

When Jian Fu entered Lin Zhen’s dorm, Lin Zhen’s roommate saw him and sighed dramatically before retreating under his blanket to watch TV, clearly disappointed. 

He had expected some secret romantic scandal, but it turned out to be a familiar high school classmate.

Lin Zhen wore a loose, fluffy pajama set that hung loosely on his slim frame. Ever since deciding to pursue the arts, Lin Zhen had maintained a very lean figure. Recently, though, he had started weight training and looked slightly more filled out than before.

Jian Fu blinked, inadvertently giving Lin Zhen a quick once-over.

Why was he wearing fluffy pajamas?

Sure, the dorm heating was off, the windows leaked a bit, and the room was chilly.

But still—fluffy pajamas?

That’s… oddly cute.

Lin Zhen casually opened a bottle of sugar-free yogurt, took a sip, and asked with a puzzled expression, “Didn’t you say everything was resolved? What brings you here so late?”

He worried that Jian Fu might not explain things clearly, so he deliberately called Li Rong to confirm.

Li Rong recounted the events in the private room, and only then did he fully relax.

Jian Fu swallowed hard, his gaze landing on the bottle of yogurt Lin Zhen had opened.

Now, whenever he saw yogurt, he couldn’t help but think of the kiss between Li Rong and Cen Xiao. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed and flustered he became, his face reddening uncontrollably in front of Lin Zhen.

Lin Zhen: “???”

As a fellow man, Lin Zhen couldn’t fathom why Jian Fu was blushing.

He didn’t think his actions held any suggestive implications, and given Jian Fu’s usual obliviousness, even if there were, he likely wouldn’t have noticed.

But for now, Lin Zhen didn’t know what to say. He held the yogurt bottle in hand, sitting on his chair, and looked up at Jian Fu.

Jian Fu, staring at the yogurt, blushed even redder—like a fully boiled crab.

Lin Zhen: “…”

Jian Fu: “…”

A roommate, heading to the bathroom before bed, climbed down from his bunk and passed the two locked in their silent standoff. He asked curiously, “Are you two communicating telepathically now?”

Lin Zhen coughed lightly, setting the yogurt aside, frowning at Jian Fu. “What exactly do you want to say?”

Jian Fu snapped out of his trance, stumbling over his words. “I… I… My brother and Li Rong, they…”

But he couldn’t get the words out.

As the roommate was about to leave, he casually asked, “By the way, Lin Zhen, did you finish analyzing Brokeback Mountain for Professor Jiao?”

Lin Zhen replied nonchalantly, “Finished, though it’s a bit rough—I haven’t had time to refine it.”

Jian Fu gasped audibly. “Bro… Bro… You watched that?”

He had never seen the movie before and wasn’t interested in such topics, but surely… there were those kinds of scenes, right?

Lin Zhen had been calm, but Jian Fu’s exaggerated reaction made the atmosphere inexplicably awkward.

The dorm now only had the two of them, yet Lin Zhen felt as if the space had shrunk. The air grew stifling; even his breathing felt uneven. Uncomfortable, he averted his gaze, his lashes trembling slightly.

“We’re actors. What haven’t we watched?”

Jian Fu licked his lips and leaned against Lin Zhen’s desk. “Actually, just now… I saw Li Rong and my brother…”

Before he could finish, the room plunged into darkness. Jian Fu jumped, startled, and swallowed the rest of his words.

The only light came from the faint green glow of the emergency exit sign in the hallway, barely enough to make out faces.

Jian Fu patted his chest, muttering, “Scared me to death. What just happened?”

In the darkness, Lin Zhen’s soft voice replied, “Our dorm lights out at 11.”

Jian Fu: “That’s inhumane. We never lose power at our place. Well, I guess I’ll leave you to rest. I’ll head back now.”

Lin Zhen sighed. “The doors lock at 11. You’re not going anywhere.”

Jian Fu, horrified, asked, “Then where do I sleep?”

Lin Zhen: “…”

In a well-lit apartment, Li Rong collapsed onto the large bed after a shower, yawning uncontrollably.

He didn’t even bother fastening his pajama buttons, letting the neckline slide halfway off his shoulder. “So tired.”

His fingers twitched lazily, eyes half-closed. His freshly dried hair, still messy, scattered across the pillow.

Cen Xiao climbed into bed, pulling Li Rong’s waist over to rest on his lap, and began massaging his temples.

Li Rong laid sprawled across Cen Xiao’s legs, one hand on his abs, murmuring, “It’s strange. I finally got what I wanted, but instead of joy, there’s this sense of emptiness, like it’s all unreal.”

Cen Xiao, though ticklish from the abs-patting, endured it, sensing Li Rong was deep in thought.

“It means you haven’t decided on your next step yet.”

Li Rong nodded in contemplation. “You’re right. I’ll rest for a bit and figure out what’s next.”

After a while, Li Rong couldn’t resist asking, “Do you think Jian Fu will tell Lin Zhen about our kiss?”

Cen Xiao glanced down at him. “Why provoke him like that?”

Li Rong scoffed, “Provoke? He already knows. No need to pretend anymore.”

Cen Xiao replied, “Jian Fu is straightforward when it comes to feelings. He probably needs time to process it.”

Li Rong took a deep breath. “Let him process then. He’s only 20—too young for romance. Let him stay single.”

Cen Xiao smirked. “Says the one who started dating early.”

Li Rong, avoiding the topic, began tracing his fingers along Cen Xiao’s waist, eventually wrapping his arms around it and pressing his face to Cen Xiao’s stomach. “You’re pretty good at massages.”

Cen Xiao chuckled, “Oh? Thank you, wife, for the compliment.”

Li Rong’s eyelids twitched. He bared his sharp teeth and bit Cen Xiao’s abs. “Who are you calling wife?”

Cen Xiao tensed at the sudden bite, feeling a damp patch of saliva. Pinching Li Rong’s chin, he leaned down to look into his drowsy, reddened eyes. “Weren’t you the one who called me husband first?”

Li Rong, righteous, poked Cen Xiao’s chest. “Am I apologizing right now? From now on, you call me husband.”

Cen Xiao, amused, hoisted him up from his lap and tucked him under the covers. “Such a fair-weather schemer.”

Li Rong burrowed himself snugly into the blanket, shielding himself from further teasing. “This is called strategic flexibility. Now sleep—I’m done playing.”