The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 160

Li Rong said nothing for a long time. Zhang Zhaohe also stayed silent. The two stood by the railing, seemingly distant from the noise around them.

One by one, classmates arrived at the mountaintop. Some rushed to the pavilion to rest, while others passed by Zhang Zhaohe, politely greeting him.

Zhang Zhaohe would smile and nod at them, but Li Rong saw it clearly—the indifference.

That kind of coldness, which no forced smile could conceal, stemmed from a deep-seated disdain and contempt.

These students had been placed in his class after failing their exams. He cared little about their lives or futures, and therefore, their appreciation or waste of study time was irrelevant to him.

This was how Zhang Zhaohe had lived all these years. Everyone said he was too timid and incompetent to manage the class properly, but Li Rong understood—it was because he deemed these students unworthy.

And the attention Zhang Zhaohe gave him wasn’t solely because he had ranked first in the grade. After all, in his previous life, Zhang Zhaohe had never appeared.

He thought it was because he could still top the exams without attending class, because he had compiled and published Li Qingli’s papers, because Meijiang Biotech collapsed, because Blue Pivot Districts One and Three were closely tied to him.

All of this made him far more valuable than in his previous life. He seemed remarkable, having achieved things far beyond his age.

Li Rong couldn’t help but want to laugh bitterly. He didn’t want to admit that he was the same kind of person as Zhang Zhaohe, but he seemed to understand Zhang Zhaohe’s emotions deeply.

By the time the entire class reached the mountaintop, it was already noon. The bright sunlight brought a hint of warmth to the peak.

Zhang Zhaohe called everyone to gather by the stone tablet at the courtyard gate for a group photo, but he didn’t join them.

As the wide-angle lens captured more than a dozen shots, and the crowd began to disperse, Zhang Zhaohe suddenly approached Li Rong and said, with a profound tone, “Funny, Brother Li stood right where you’re standing now, back then.”

Li Rong’s eyes widened in shock, but before he could ask, Zhang Zhaohe turned and left.

The words caught in Li Rong’s throat.

But from that single statement, he discerned a fact:

Over a decade ago, among the so-called friends who climbed the mountain with Zhang Zhaohe was Li Qingli!

What was Zhang Zhaohe’s purpose in revealing this information?

To win favor and lower his defenses?

After descending the mountain, the class gathered at a farmhouse near Ta Mountain for a barbecue. By the time they returned to the school’s sports field, it was already 5 PM.

The sunset slowly dipped below the horizon amidst the damp and misty air, and the shadows of buildings stretched infinitely long.

Li Rong didn’t trust Zhang Zhaohe, but he couldn’t deny that his words had taken root deeply in his mind.

Walking out of the sports field, Li Rong felt dazed, even forgetting to reply to Cen Xiao’s message.

He aimlessly walked along the road and, without realizing it, ended up at the fountain square.

Ever since confirming that Han Ying was the person Aunt Hui was searching for, Aunt Hui had stopped being so persistent about setting up a stall near A University.

While waiting for justice, she had begun exploring other possibilities in life—things she hadn’t had the time or interest to do before.

Because of this, Li Rong hadn’t been to the fountain square in a long time.

He sighed softly and walked slowly through the crowd, heading toward Aunt Hui’s stall.

It had been two and a half years since their first meeting here.

Lost in thought, he was suddenly pulled back to reality when something clung to his leg.

His steps halted.

“Brother Li, did you come to see me?”

Tong Tong tilted her little face upward, her round eyes sparkling with joy, and grinned innocently at him.

The little girl clung tightly to his leg, her small hands clutching his pants. With her long hair cascading down, she looked as beautiful as a doll.

Li Rong couldn’t help but smile. He reached out and gently pinched Tong Tong’s cheek.

“You’re here with your mom again?” Li Rong crouched down, pulling Tong Tong into his arms.

Tong Tong squirmed a little, then stretched out her hand to ruffle Li Rong’s hair mischievously. Though young, she already knew what “beauty” was, and Li Rong’s appearance made her want to get closer to him.

“My mom said there’s medicine now, so we don’t have to sell the house for now. Thank you, Brother Li.”

Before Shen Gui had caused a scene at Zhai Ning’s clinic, Li Rong had promised to take care of Tong Tong’s medicine until he could develop a cure for her genetic disorder.

Thinking about this, Li Rong suddenly froze.

A cure for Tong Tong?

Tong Tong was the first patient with bacterial progeria he had come into contact with. No matter what, he had to help her recover her health.

Li Rong suddenly realized how terrifying the logical trap Zhang Zhaohe had lured him into was.

Standing on the mountaintop, gazing downward, it was easy to feel a sense of detachment, as if he were separate from the mundane world. Guided by Zhang Zhaohe’s rhetoric, he had begun to think that he wasn’t just one among billions.

He saw himself as independent of the mortal world, viewing everyone as unworthy of his time, as loathsome and despicable.

His hatred was directed at an abstract concept, while the people he wanted to save were concrete individuals.

For instance, Tong Tong, who trusted and liked him, who clung to his leg and acted coquettishly—he wanted her to regain her health and live a normal life, free from a lifetime of suffering.

He could achieve that, and she saw him as her hope.

That was all.

“Brother Li, what’s wrong?” Tong Tong’s soft little finger poked his cheek. Her big eyes blinked as she looked at him. Noticing his unusual expression, she stood quietly, refraining from mischief.

Li Rong curved his eyes into a smile, lightly patting her back. “Nothing, just wondering why you aren’t in kindergarten.”

Tong Tong beamed with bright energy. “Silly, it’s the weekend!”

It was the first time anyone had called Li Rong silly, and he couldn’t help but let out a helpless laugh. “Alright, alright, I forgot. Brother Cen Xiao is still waiting for me, so I need to head home now.”

Tong Tong replied softly, “Okay.”

After saying goodbye to Shen Gui, Li Rong returned to his apartment.

When he reached his door, he instinctively took out his phone and saw several messages from Cen Xiao. 

He had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even glanced at them.

Opening the door, Li Rong felt the familiar atmosphere of home, allowing himself to let his guard down. Only then did he realize how utterly drained he was.

Hearing the commotion, Cen Xiao walked out of the study. “You’re back. What do you want for dinner?”

Standing in the doorway, Li Rong looked at Cen Xiao, his eyelids trembling slightly. “I’m drenched in sweat. I want to shower first.”

Cen Xiao studied him carefully, a slight frown forming on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you after I’ve showered.”

Li Rong changed his clothes and went straight to the bathroom.

The sound of water echoed softly as steam filled the space. Half an hour later, Li Rong emerged with a towel draped over him.

Cen Xiao had been waiting by the door. Seeing Li Rong come out, he set his coffee cup down on the dining table, stepped forward, and gently ran his hand through Li Rong’s damp hair. “Baby, what did Zhang Zhaohe say to you?”

Li Rong’s hair, soft and dripping wet, hung like a helpless kitten. Beads of water trickled from the tips, accentuating his delicate, pale earlobes.

Without saying a word, Li Rong placed one hand on Cen Xiao’s back, pressing his still-damp body against Cen Xiao’s shirt. Resting his chin on Cen Xiao’s shoulder, he murmured, “He stabbed at my heart.”

Cen Xiao’s hand paused, his pupils narrowing for an instant. Slowly, he slid his palm down Li Rong’s neck and shoulder.

His dry, warm hand moved across the smooth skin with firm pressure, pulling Li Rong closer into his embrace. “But you let it get to you.”

If it hadn’t, Li Rong wouldn’t seem this affected. 

Zhang Zhaohe’s words were calculated, logically precise, and deeply resonant with Li Rong’s worldview.

“Yes,” Li Rong admitted. “But I’ve calmed down now.” He lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in his body betrayed his words. Cen Xiao’s shirt was soaked through, his hair dripping onto the fabric and sending cold rivulets down Cen Xiao’s skin.

Cen Xiao chuckled softly, inhaling the sweet citrus scent of the shower gel Li Rong had used. Still, he could feel the tightness in Li Rong’s frame.

“Calmed down, but it still hurts.” 

Li Rong bit his lip, tilted his head slightly, and leaned close to whisper in Cen Xiao’s ear. His tone was soft, almost kitten-like in its plaintive need. “Do me.”

Cen Xiao’s breath deepened as he tightened his grip on Li Rong’s waist. “With pleasure.”

He understood what Li Rong needed: an outlet to purge the noise clouding his mind. 

Nothing worked better than closeness with the one he loved—especially when Cen Xiao knew exactly how to bring him solace.

Scooping Li Rong up, he carried him to the bedroom.

Before Cen Xiao could even take off his damp shirt, Li Rong sprang forward, straddling him and roughly tugging at the buttons.

Like a small, frustrated beast venting its anger on insignificant objects, Li Rong tore the shirt off and flung it aside. Yet, after that brief storm, he quieted.

His water-bright eyes met Cen Xiao’s, his voice hoarse with exertion. “Make it hurt.”

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