The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 163

Cen Xiao relayed the details about Zhu Yan to Jian Fu but also instructed him not to rush.

Jian Fu, who had been fretting over how to distract Lin Zhen from pre-competition nerves, immediately seized the opportunity to make a call.

“Hey, hey, hey, Little Lin Zhen! I just heard a secret about the director of Hongsuo Research Institute.”

Lin Zhen tried to suppress a cough, covering his mouth quickly. He blinked, took a moment to compose himself, and then asked in a low voice, “What is it?”

Jian Fu, with his sharp ears, grew concerned right away. “Why are you coughing? Are you sick?”

The live broadcast finale of the talent show was just two days away. A cold now would be a disaster.

Lin Zhen laughed lightly, his tone relaxed. “No, I just sweated a lot during rehearsals yesterday. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

Jian Fu wasn’t entirely convinced. “Don’t stress too much. Didn’t Panda say you’re sure to win first place?”

Lin Zhen chuckled, but seemed to place more trust in Li Rong’s opinions.

Over the past few days, he’d received plenty of encouragement from others. Though their concern sometimes bordered on excessive, he appreciated their support.

“I’m fine. So, what’s this discovery?”

Jian Fu, reassured by Lin Zhen’s steady tone, continued, “It seems Zhu Yan appropriated a student’s research results a long time ago. We still don’t know who the student was, but Panda suspects it might be Zhang Zhaohe. If it’s him, things could get interesting.”

Lin Zhen swallowed hard, resisting the urge to cough again. “Alright, then help the class monitor figure it out quickly.”

Jian Fu laughed. “Panda said there’s no hurry. So far, we don’t even know if Zhu Yan is connected to Professors Li or Gu.”

Lin Zhen sighed. “It’s been nearly two years. The class monitor can’t possibly not be anxious.”

Unlike Jian Fu, Lin Zhen was sensitive and perceptive. He had always been attuned to Li Rong’s sense of urgency.

Two years.

It’s easy to fabricate an injustice, but righting a wrong takes an enormous price—and even more time.

Someone as composed and intelligent as Li Rong had spent nearly two years uncovering actionable evidence against Suhe Biotech. Even then, they still needed a “favorable wind” to turn the tide.

This isn’t fair—he couldn’t accept it.

Delayed justice isn’t justice at all. What’s lost can never be regained.

Every single second of this ordeal was paid with Li Rong’s sweat and blood.

Jian Fu paused before muttering, “I know, I’ll definitely investigate this as quickly as I can. You just focus on preparing for the competition and don’t overthink it.”

Lin Zhen took a deep breath. “Alright, I’m heading to try on costumes now. We’ll talk later.”

“Ah? So soon….” Jian Fu was startled, then awkwardly said, “Alright, go ahead.”

He knew Lin Zhen was busy but just wanted to talk with him a little longer.

He couldn’t figure out why he felt this way. Yesterday, when their class suggested singing karaoke with the foreign language department girls, the guys were all hyped up—but he couldn’t care less.

No matter how well anyone sang, could it possibly be better than Lin Zhen? After hearing the best, it’s hard to listen to anyone else.

They teased him, saying he must’ve hit his head in a door. After all, karaoke wasn’t about singing—it was about making friends.

But Jian Fu wasn’t interested. When you’re dating, who has time to hang out with the guys?

After hanging up the phone, Lin Zhen steadied his thoughts, lowered his gaze, and nodded to the doctor.

The doctor, however, shook his head. After a moment’s hesitation, he aimed the icy, sharp needle at Lin Zhen’s throat and slowly pushed it in.

Pain, sourness, swelling—it was an indescribable mix of sensations.

Lin Zhen furrowed his brows, his eyes welling up with involuntary tears as the doctor skillfully pulled the needle out.

“A corticosteroid injection will only help you perform temporarily. It’s a stopgap measure, not a cure. These drugs contain hormones—you really shouldn’t use them often.”

Lin Zhen held his throat and softly said, “This competition is very important.”

The doctor snorted lightly. “Nothing’s more important than your health. But in your industry, it’s not uncommon to see this kind of thing. You’re young—it might not affect you much now, but you should still take it easy in the future.”

Lin Zhen replied, “Thank you.”

To look better on camera, he’d started losing weight again recently, relying on nutritional shakes daily. This inevitably affected his immunity.

During yesterday’s rehearsal, the venue’s temperature control system malfunctioned, and the draft made him feel unwell. Although he didn’t develop a fever after taking heavy doses of medication, his throat began to ache.

The injection was his only choice.

Back at the hotel where the program staff were staying, Lin Zhen was preparing to rest when Fu Huan unexpectedly knocked on his door.

Leaning against the doorframe, Fu Huan glanced him over and asked indifferently, “Heard you caught a chill yesterday. How are you feeling now?”

“I’m fine now,” Lin Zhen replied calmly.

Fu Huan’s sharp eyes caught sight of the faint red marks on Lin Zhen’s throat. “You got an injection?”

Lin Zhen didn’t answer but didn’t deny it either—he just looked at Fu Huan.

Fu Huan chuckled coldly, his shoulders shaking. “Since you helped me out on the show before, I’ll give you a friendly tip. Cheng Zerui has already signed endorsement deals with three companies, all at the level of a champion. The media’s articles are already written. Once the live broadcast ends the day after tomorrow, the press releases will flood in. Cheng Zerui had dinner with Sister Pan after yesterday’s rehearsal, and a top agent from Wajing was there too. No matter how well you perform, they won’t let you take first place.”

Lin Zhen tilted his head slightly, looking at Fu Huan with an innocent expression. “But I’ve always been first, and I have more fans.”

Fu Huan stared at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. “You’re kidding, right? Saying something so naïve? The finals aren’t just about fan votes—there’s also the judges’ scores. Controlling votes is as easy as flipping a switch. And since you’ve rejected all the offers from major companies, who’s going to back you? Once everything settles, within a year, your fans will be overshadowed by Cheng Zerui, who’ll be loaded with resources. How can ordinary artists like us compete with those backed by big corporations?”

Lin Zhen acted as if he hadn’t understood a word, saying, “All the more reason for me to give my best performance and sing my best—to give my fans confidence.”

Fu Huan looked at him with a hint of pity. “This isn’t how the game is played. When I was younger, I made the same mistake.”

Actually, it wasn’t just in the past—he still often suffered losses because of his pride. Personality is the hardest thing to change. But seeing someone repeat his mistakes, he couldn’t help but sound like a lecture-giving elder.

Of course, he didn’t like that side of himself either.

Lin Zhen said quietly, “Do your best and leave the rest to fate.”

Fu Huan was silent for a moment before turning away. “Suit yourself.”

Deep down, he envied Lin Zhen. Lin Zhen was young, with time to spare. His fanbase and talent gave him the leverage to challenge resource-backed stars.

Why was he even worrying for someone else?

Lin Zhen closed the door and poured himself a glass of warm water.

As he drank, he gazed at the gloomy sky outside the window.

Many outsiders believed he would take first place—even his fans had prepared celebratory posts.

But he didn’t think so.

Song Yanyi and Yan Pan must have already coordinated with the media. Everything was prearranged for Cheng Zerui.

For some reason, beyond wanting to give the team captain a head start, Lin Zhen also felt an inexplicable disgust toward Wajing Entertainment and Song Yanyi.

He could still remember the day he went to Yan Pan’s studio. The mere sight of Song Yanyi made him so nauseous he almost vomited. It was as if there was some deep-seated grudge between him and Song Yanyi, one that made him wish for Song Yanyi’s downfall, along with the capital he represented.

Yet, Lin Zhen had never met Song Yanyi before.

In A City, the gloomy weather lingered for days. On the streets, magnolia flowers had begun to wither and fall, their white petals returning silently to the earth, their subtle fragrance fading into the air.

At Jiajia Central Hospital, patients overflowed into every corner. Beds were scarce, and the director, Zhai Ning, was overwhelmed.

She had heard that the twelve beds initially freed up had been reassigned to influential connections by Zhou Hong. Some patients, unable to wait any longer, had no choice but to go to less reputable hospitals.

Zhai Ning’s temples throbbed with anger. But Zhou Hong seemed to regard her as an ally, sharing the news with a wide grin and a shameless attitude.

However, Zhou Hong merely regarded this trivial matter as a light-hearted prelude before dinner. What he intended to share with Zhai Ning this time was far more significant.

It concerned Suhe Biotech.

The sky was shrouded in thick, dark clouds, with the stars and moon completely obscured. Beneath the streetlights, a fine drizzle gave the ground a glossy black sheen.

As the clock hands crept toward midnight, Zhai Ning had just finished a surgery. She didn’t have time to rest; on her way to the lounge, she hurriedly called Li Rong.

Half-asleep, Li Rong was stirred awake by the buzzing phone.

The bedroom was engulfed in darkness, except for the faint glow of the phone screen.

“Who is it?” Cen Xiao asked hoarsely.

Li Rong rubbed his sore eyes, picked up the phone, and hesitated briefly upon seeing the name displayed.

“Zhai Ning.”

Why would Zhai Ning be calling him at this hour?

“Hello?” Sitting up in bed, Li Rong answered and put the call on speaker.

Zhai Ning, brisk in her steps and unapologetic for disturbing him in the middle of the night, spoke in a voice both fatigued and solemn: “I have something important to tell you.”

Li Rong snapped awake instantly, his gaze turning sharp. “Go ahead.”

“Suhe Biotech has submitted their listing documents and is awaiting approval from the securities commission. The results should be out soon. Once the quiet period ends, they’ll hold a press conference to launch their research on a curative treatment for bacterial progeria syndrome. Investors will flock to them, and Suhe Biotech’s stock price will undoubtedly soar.”

Li Rong’s gaze turned cold. “A curative treatment will certainly drive the market.”

Just like the anticipation surrounding Luyinxu back then.

Cen Xiao sneered. “Looks like Suhe Biotech is on its way to becoming a hero in the eyes of the public.”

But based on the recordings provided by Du Mingli, he doubted their intentions to genuinely develop a curative drug. It seemed more like a ploy to inflate stock prices.

After all, drug development is a lengthy process. By the time results emerge, with no deliberate manipulation, the public would quietly accept the failure. After all, they’ve already been desensitized by Luyinxu’s “cautionary tale.”

Zhai Ning’s tone grew heavier, with a tinge of reluctance: “Li Rong, you need to be prepared. Suhe Biotech has designated Jiajia Central Hospital as the site for human trials. Zheng Zhupan plans to name the new drug Suyinxu.”

Luyinxu, Suyinxu.

Zheng Zhupan wasn’t content with simply destroying Li Qingli and Gu Nong’s reputations. He wanted to twist the knife further, using their downfall to his advantage.

Under the guise of sanctity and innovation, Zheng Zhupan intended to bury someone else’s groundbreaking work, repackaged as his own, deep within the annals of history.

The hospital corridor groaned under the weight of the night wind. The sound of the gale carried through the phone, mingled with the metallic scent of rain, making Zhai Ning’s voice seem as though it was emanating from the abyss.

Time seemed to freeze. Silence engulfed everything, swallowing the emotions in the air.

Li Rong’s lashes trembled, and the surrounding darkness seemed to grow denser. He appeared as though he wanted to say something, but just as his lips moved, a sudden warm sensation rose in his throat. The sharp taste of iron spilled from the corners of his mouth.

Surprised, he frowned and looked down at his palm as he wiped his lips.

It was covered in blood.

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