The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 156

Back to work, Li Rong meticulously organized the evidence he had obtained from He Dayong and Zhai Ning but refrained from taking immediate action.

He was acutely aware that the timing still wasn’t right.

Two years had passed since the incident, and he couldn’t ignore a harsh reality: people forget. In these two years, many likely no longer remembered the name Li Qingli, even among his former colleagues. Few referred to him as the son of Professors Li and Gu anymore.

When the incident occurred, Li Qingli and Gu Nong were the most renowned biology professors in the country.

Due to the unique nature of Luyinxu, the drug drew significant media attention and praise from its inception to the trial stages. With ongoing publicity and hype, its first-phase human trials reached peak popularity.

This peak, however, provided the perfect moment for a catastrophic downfall. From the first-phase trial failure onward, a flood of negative news overshadowed previous praise, engulfing the public sphere in a storm of criticism and fury. The public’s quick shift from admiration to scorn was overwhelming, leaving an indelible impression that Luyinxu was harmful.

Yet, people have an endless stream of information to process. Even the hottest topics eventually fade into irrelevance. The insults and defamation, while initially pervasive, are easily forgotten. Unfortunately, this forgetfulness also applies to any subsequent developments, making it nearly impossible to recreate the original fervor of public outrage.

Li Rong understood that to clear his parents’ names and make Suhe Biotech pay dearly, he had to create a media storm comparable to the original incident. Without such impact, only a small group of people would bother seeking the truth. In the eyes of the majority, the wrong narrative would persist.

But the evidence he currently held was insufficient. Even if it could prove their innocence, it wouldn’t generate the same level of attention.

Compared to Li Qingli and Gu Nong’s prominence at the time, Zheng Zhupan was an unfamiliar name, and Suhe Biotech was nothing more than a cold, faceless machine. 

Even if the case were exposed, the damage to Zheng Zhupan and Suhe Biotech would be minimal compared to what his parents suffered.

He couldn’t let this matter quietly fade away, seeming resolved yet never truly solved.

The best way he could think of to garner attention was to restart the research on Luyinxu.

This should have been done right after the first-phase trial failure—organizing a professional team to analyze and address the issues, paving new paths, and developing an improved drug based on the previous failure.

But it never happened. Everything related to Luyinxu was sealed away, becoming a taboo topic. No one dared touch the project again. Meanwhile, Suhe Biotech relied on Jiaketing to rake in profits without restraint, essentially monopolizing the disease it was supposed to treat.

In his past life, he also failed to restart Luyinxu. It wasn’t until six years later, with Jiang Weide’s help, that he faced immense pressure and launched GT201, retracing the steps his parents might have taken.

He believed he had the capability to restart the research on Luyinxu, but given his current status, achieving this seemed nearly impossible.

The situation appeared to be at a standstill.

***

In A City’s famous CBD area, Lin Zhen adjusted his mask and sunglasses, pulling his hat low before hastily leaving Yan Pan’s production studio.

As the door swung shut behind him, faint echoes of furious cursing emerged from within.

“What nonsense! Just because they’re a little popular, they think they’re untouchable? Plenty of stars have fallen from grace in this industry. It only takes a snap of my fingers!”

“Don’t want to kneel for money? There’s plenty who will!”

“Go tell the judges—I’d like to see who dares give them first place!”

…..

Yan Pan’s studio, primarily funded by Song Yanyi, was home to only seven or eight actual staff members. It was essentially a tax evasion tool that had inadvertently become Song Yanyi’s base of operations for business meetings.

The staff barely acknowledged Lin Zhen’s presence, let alone showed excitement at seeing the famous singer. The angry tirade from the office didn’t faze them as they passed Lin Zhen with robotic indifference.

For Song Yanyi, humiliating hot celebrities was a daily routine. By tomorrow, another young, handsome face would be the target.

Lin Zhen lightly touched the recording device hidden in his inner jacket, eyes downcast as he bypassed the crowd and entered the elevator.

Inside, he removed his sunglasses and pulled the mask down to his chin.

Staring at his reflection in the elevator door, his eyes gleamed with unprecedented determination.

When the elevator stopped, he stepped out with tears brimming in his eyes.

His gaze was resolute, his lips bit so hard they bled. Walking down the bustling main avenue of the CBD with tears streaming down his face, he knew professional fans and paparazzi were likely tailing him, taking covert photos and videos.

These wouldn’t surface immediately but would undoubtedly come to light at the most critical moment.

“Achoo!”

Li Rong wrinkled his nose, sniffling.

Jiang Weide sighed deeply, his expression tinged with helplessness. “Stop dodging the question. Why did you skip my class last week?”

Unbeknownst to Li Rong, Jiang Weide felt a pang of jealousy.

He’d heard Li Rong frequently skipped classes last semester but still achieved top grades. Jiang Weide attributed this to the insufficient challenge posed by most instructors. After all, Li Rong had been nurtured by Li Qingli and Gu Nong.

But this time was different. Jiang Weide considered himself on par with Li Qingli, a distinguished honorary professor. Surely, Li Rong would treasure his classes.

To prepare, Jiang Weide even crafted extended knowledge points and personally created a rare PowerPoint presentation.

Yet, Li Rong skipped class anyway.

He was no exception.

Covering his mouth and nose, Li Rong looked up pitifully, speaking between fits of coughing: “Professor, I actually had a cold. Ever since the carbon monoxide poisoning, my health’s been fragile. I always fall ill when the seasons change.”

Jiang Weide, despite knowing full well Li Rong hadn’t coughed once in class earlier, couldn’t bring himself to reprimand him upon hearing about the poisoning.

He felt a twinge of guilt.

Jiang Weide didn’t know Li Rong well, but Li Rong understood Jiang Weide.

Although uncertain of Jiang Weide’s ultimate stance, he was confident Jiang Weide bore him no ill will.

After coughing himself hoarse, Li Rong shifted the conversation to reassure Jiang Weide: “Don’t worry, Professor. Even though I missed class due to illness, I won’t fall behind on the material.”

Jiang Weide shook his head. “I’m not worried about your ability to learn; it’s just that with your talent, you should perhaps work even harder. Learning has no limits, and the biochemical knowledge you’ve encountered so far is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Li Rong didn’t argue, instead offering a faint smile. “True. Last time, you mentioned I could join the lab for some hands-on learning. Are there any experimental projects suitable for a freshman like me?”

Speaking of the tip of the iceberg, if his grasp of biochemical knowledge was just that, then the entire biochemical division of the Hongsuo Research Institute might as well disband.

Seeing Li Rong’s eagerness to improve, Jiang Weide felt gratified. “My projects are fairly advanced, but there are some graduate students’ projects you could follow. If you’re interested, I can…”

Li Rong immediately cut in, “Perfect! I happen to have a friend who’s particularly interested in experiments and has talent in this area. Let’s settle it—please help her find a lab internship.”

Jiang Weide: “…”

Leaving the biochemical building, Li Rong glanced at his jam-packed schedule and couldn’t help but sigh.

Skipping classes was such a better life. Looking at this dense lineup of courses felt more exhausting than his few days in Hongning Mountain.

Checking the time, he resigned himself to heading to his next class. He needed to maximize his presence in every subject within the limited time available.

These past two days, he hadn’t even had time to eat with Cen Xiao. Who knew what Cen Xiao was busy with in District Nine?

Cen Xiao, however, wasn’t that busy today. He used school courses as an excuse for Han Jiang, and his work in District Nine as an excuse for his homeroom teacher, deftly navigating both worlds.

After all, Han Jiang didn’t genuinely want to use him. Bound by his contributions, Han Jiang couldn’t dismiss him outright, no matter how much he resented Cen Xiao’s provocations. Han Jiang had no choice but to endure, waiting for Du Mingli to deliver results.

Cen Xiao had originally planned to return to school to see Li Rong but was caught up in something unusual today: Du Mingli had returned from another county.

The tasks weren’t fully completed yet, but everything was progressing smoothly, and it looked like it could all wrap up in half a month.

After reporting to Han Jiang, Du Mingli stopped Cen Xiao in the office.

Cen Xiao remained as indifferent as ever, not chasing him out but showing no interest in engaging.

With a gentle smile, Du Mingli tapped his phone a few times before speaking nonchalantly, “Team Leader Cen, let me play you something.”

The recording began with the sound of a chair being moved—sharp and jarring. Cen Xiao frowned immediately.

Soon, voices emerged, though faint and recorded poorly, with static buzzing throughout.

Still, it was intelligible.

“… There’s no way we’re allocating more funding for continued research. Jiaketing is just right at this stage.”

“Five more years to break even, seven years to double profits, at least a decade of returns.”

“A decade… It’s more like fifteen to twenty years. Research is so exhausting.”

“Right, it can’t cure anything. With lifelong medication for a condition, each cure means one fewer customer.”

“Just hope nobody steps out of line.”

“Who would? We don’t interfere with other pharma companies’ flagship drugs, and everyone gets along fine.”

“You’re overthinking. With Jiaketing dominating the market, entering now would be self-sabotage.”

…

After the recording ended, Du Mingli smiled faintly and pocketed his phone.

Cen Xiao narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing.

Du Mingli smiled. “Team Leader Cen, I thought you’d ask me what this was about.”

Cen Xiao replied coldly, “Do I need to ask?”

Du Mingli sighed. “You really are no fun. I don’t know what that Li kid sees in you. Or maybe it’s just your status that appeals to him?”

Cen Xiao raised his eyes slightly, his expression darkening. “You’re here to negotiate terms, not to trade insults. Save the small talk.”

Du Mingli shook his head, a hint of helplessness in his voice. “You’re so hostile to me. Can’t I even make a couple of sarcastic remarks? I’ve said before—we can work together. I have tremendous sympathy for Professor Li’s situation. If Suhe Biotech is responsible, I’m committed to playing my part in bringing them down. You don’t trust me because we’re not in the same class and naturally stand on opposite sides. You’re worried I’ll dig up something in District Three.”

Cen Xiao chuckled lightly. “You’re too full of yourself. But you’re right—we can work together.”

That recording was excellent evidence. Even if he had to resort to deception, he’d find a way to get it from Du Mingli.

He’d overlooked something before: in the previous life, Du Mingli acted against Li Rong only after aligning with Han Jiang’s position.

Right now, however, Du Mingli had legitimate reasons to resent a conglomerate like Suhe Biotech. At this moment, he still viewed things from the perspective of a self-made man like Professor Li.

He hadn’t yet developed the sense of superiority that came with being in power.