The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 180

When Zhang Zhaohe learned that Chang Li and the others were planning to restart the Luyinxu reproduction experiment within a week, he tried to intervene. However, this time, Chang Li uncharacteristically stood her ground and insisted on moving forward as soon as possible.

Yan Youzhong and Li Yongshi also expressed their support for Chang Li’s decision.

Left with no choice, Zhang Zhaohe feigned concern and asked, “Why the rush? Didn’t we say before that we’d take our time to discuss it thoroughly?”

Jiang Weide’s explanation was vague and dismissive, which immediately set off Zhang Zhaohe’s alarm bells.

Chang Li glanced at the group chat. At least half of the High Tower Group members were online at that moment, meaning there were countless people who could see Zhang Zhaohe’s messages.

Having seen through Zhang Zhaohe’s true nature, Chang Li had entirely escaped from the trap of “acting for the good of the Li family.” Now, none of Zhang Zhaohe’s manipulative words could sway her judgment.

Still, she couldn’t risk openly breaking ties with Zhang Zhaohe, so she simply shifted the blame onto Hu Yuming: “The Blue Pivot Fourth District sent Li Rong an invitation. If Li Rong agrees to join them and work on Luyinxu, Hu Yuming has promised to provide him with everything he needs. Back then, it was Blue Pivot that extended a helping hand to the Li family, not us, and that already makes me feel guilty enough. If we lose to Blue Pivot this time, it will be indefensible.”

Zhang Zhaohe, who had already heard this from Jiang Weide, remarked, “Oh, so Hu Yuming wants to take a slice of the pie too.”

In truth, Chang Li’s approach was reasonable, but Zhang Zhaohe still couldn’t shake his unease.

Chang Li’s comment, however, caught the attention of other members of the group: “What do you mean by saying Blue Pivot helped the Li family, not us?”

“When did Blue Pivot ever help?”

Seeing someone raise the question, Chang Li was secretly pleased. She had phrased her words this way to encourage others to start piecing together the inconsistencies in Zhang Zhaohe’s past narratives.

Unfortunately, despite the long pause, Zhang Zhaohe didn’t respond, and no one else pursued the issue further. Chang Li felt a pang of disappointment.

After a while, Yan Youzhong privately messaged Chang Li: “Professor Chang, we were closer to Professors Li and Gu, so our empathy for them is stronger. But High Tower Group has expanded so quickly—not everyone shares the same sentiments toward them.”

This single statement, harsh as it was, jolted Chang Li into even greater clarity.

He was right. High Tower Group had grown too rapidly. Many of its members had never even spoken to Li Qingli or Gu Nong.

The reasons for joining High Tower Group were varied. Some came because they felt stifled and overlooked at the Hongsuo Research Institute and hoped to find a new path; others, having encountered similar struggles to Professors Li and Gu, sought camaraderie; and some were merely moved by Zhang Zhaohe’s grand rhetoric and joined in a moment of impulsive idealism. Their sympathy for the Li family was limited and distant, and Li Rong’s personal struggles were even more irrelevant to them.

This explained why these individuals showed little interest in probing into the apparent contradictions.

They found it troublesome and didn’t want to stir up conflict.

Without fully exposing Zhang Zhaohe’s façade and dragging his misdeeds into the open, these people would never be convinced.

After all, it had been Zhang Zhaohe who originally brought them together. People are naturally hesitant to overturn things they once believed in.

Fortunately, under Jiang Weide’s leadership, the Luyinxu reproduction project was officially launched, and the assistants who had previously worked with Professors Li and Gu were summoned back to the team.

Meanwhile, the obstruction Zhang Zhaohe had long warned of—the Hongsuo Research Institute’s interference—never materialized. The most significant disruptions they encountered were Zhang Zhaohe’s own doubts and Hu Yuming’s invitation letter.

On top of that, Zhu Yan fell ill.

It seems that the tumultuous changes during this period forced Zhu Yan to leave the tranquil, scenic sanatorium to handle the chaotic affairs of the Hongsuo Research Institute. This left him deeply worried and unable to sleep, and his health deteriorated rapidly.

His body could no longer endure such a demanding workload. Years ago, his limited experience in the laboratory and inadequate protective measures caused considerable harm to his health. Now that he’s older, these issues are surfacing one by one.

Lying in the hospital, Zhu Yan was visited daily by a steady stream of people offering their sympathies. Yet, he could see through the poorly concealed indifference on their faces.

They all believed it was inevitable that he would retire soon, and Jiang Weide would become the next director of the Hongsuo Research Institute.

People are realistic—once you lose power, no one looks at you the same way.

Zhu Yan was reluctant to accept this reality and even more unwilling to step down as director of the Hongsuo Research Institute. Seeing the various faces visiting him each day brought him no joy.

Over a week had passed since he was hospitalized, but his condition showed no signs of improvement.

The people at the institute seemed to sense that change was on the horizon. Recently, more and more individuals were seen lingering near Jiang Weide’s office.

Not all plans go as hoped. Zhang Zhaohe had previously affected Jiang Weide’s reputation with the publication of a hypothesis, but the matter didn’t gain enough traction. Now, Li Rong was growing closer to Jiang Weide, almost exhibiting a teacher-student camaraderie. Consequently, everyone silently decided to bury the old grievances.

After publicly falling out with Cen Xiao in front of Chang Li and others, Li Rong had no choice but to move out of the apartment.

When Song He heard about this, he leapt out of bed like a carp, staying up late into the night to clean his place thoroughly.

For some reason, after learning that Li Rong was the son of Li Qingli and Gu Nong and that he intended to recreate Luyinxu with the help of the Hongsuo Research Institute, Song He began to view him differently.

It was as though he wasn’t looking at a peer, but at a towering mountain or a vast ocean—majestic, untouchable.

On Li Rong’s first day back, he surveyed his surroundings and was quite satisfied with the cleanliness. He then asked, “Want to intern in my lab?”

Song He froze for a moment. Realizing what Li Rong meant, he nodded frantically. “Really? Can I? Yes, yes, yes—I’d love to!”

Song He was well aware of the value of this project. Even as an assistant, it would greatly enhance his resume.

He even felt a bit grateful for fate. If it weren’t for being assigned to the same dormitory as Li Rong, he would never have had this opportunity.

Joining the lab as well was Ji Xiaochuan, who was practically Li Rong’s right-hand person—a well-known fact.

Li Rong also emailed He Changfeng, but there was no reply. Whether or not he would join was up to him.

Li Rong directly applied to the school for a one-year leave of absence, suspending all academic courses.

The school respected his decision and approved it.

Before officially starting work, Li Rong reviewed the document Jiang Weide had written for him overnight.

Suddenly, he understood why Jiang Weide had agreed to let him initiate GT201 in his previous life.

The document outlined precautions that Jiang Weide had once warned him about, urging him to avoid certain pitfalls. 

However, compared to the annotated version from his previous life, this document was rougher and less detailed. Since Luyinxu had been destroyed, Jiang Weide hadn’t had time to cross-reference everything.

Still, Li Rong was certain that Jiang Weide’s intent was to restore the glory his parents never achieved and bestow it all upon him.

His mentor had toiled painstakingly for years. Perhaps he discovered something that forced him to take an alternative path, using GT201 as a cover to recreate Luyinxu through Li Rong’s efforts.

Of course, GT201 was slightly different from Luyinxu. By the time Li Rong took over, six years had passed. The biochemical field had advanced significantly during that time, bringing numerous technical innovations.

In other words, GT201 was an upgraded version of Luyinxu.

On the first sunny Monday in May, the laboratory officially began operations.

Just like in his previous life, Li Rong donned a white coat, leaving early and returning late each day, shuttling between his dormitory and the lab.

The lab assistants quickly noticed that Li Rong didn’t behave like a novice stepping into the lab for the first time. He wasn’t overly cautious or worried about making mistakes or breaking rules. Instead, he was proficient, decisive, and meticulous, personally drafting almost every step of the plan.

When he worked, Li Rong was methodical, with a calm and composed demeanor. He spoke and acted bluntly, showing no excessive politeness despite his young age.

In external communications, Li Rong held nothing back. He accepted interviews nearly every three days, informing the public about the experiment’s progress and the challenges they were facing.

Because of this, his fame began to spread. Thanks to his striking appearance and youthful advantage, he was already beginning to overshadow his parents.

The overwhelming scale of this high-profile restoration project inevitably unsettled some people.

Zhang Zhaohe, whose scientific capabilities paled in comparison to Li Rong and other professors, struggled to discern whether Li Rong could truly succeed in recreating Luyinxu given the current trajectory.

Finally, he couldn’t resist calling Chang Li out for a private conversation.

Zhang Zhaohe knew the personalities of every member of the High Tower Group. Chang Li, being relatively emotional and simple-minded, was easier to influence.

Leaning on his well-worn cane, Zhang Zhaohe gave a slight, benign smile, his eyelids fluttering slightly. “Seeing how busy you all are, I almost feel bad disturbing you, but I can’t help worrying and wanted to ask how things are going.”

Chang Li glanced at Zhang Zhaohe, adjusted her glasses, and sighed lightly. “Time is tight—it’s been years since I’ve been this busy—but everything is on track.”

Zhang Zhaohe nodded. “I’ve noticed you’ve been spending the most time in the lab and have put aside all your other projects. Are you the one guiding the direction for Luyinxu now? How’s Li Rong doing? I was worried he might struggle to adapt—this is his first time, after all…”

Chang Li frowned and interrupted Zhang Zhaohe. “That’s not right. Luyinxu is led by Li Rong. We’re just assisting him. And no, he hasn’t struggled to adapt—he’s doing exceptionally well. I don’t even know how to describe his talent and brilliance.”

Zhang Zhaohe froze for a moment. “You’re saying Luyinxu is led by Li Rong?”

Almost unconsciously, he took out a pen from his pocket, rubbing it repeatedly in his palm. But strangely, this time, it no longer brought him the usual sense of reassurance.

Perhaps it was because Zhu Yan was now old and bedridden, no longer a threat to him. Or perhaps it was because Li Rong was now beyond his control.

Chang Li smiled. “Why does your face look so pale? Shouldn’t you feel relieved to see how capable Li Rong is?”

Zhang Zhaohe tightened his grip on the pen, his cheekbones more pronounced as he strained the sagging skin on his face. “I’m just… very surprised.”

Chang Li’s smile deepened. “Everyone is surprised.”

Zhang Zhaohe said, “Well, that puts my mind at ease. Carry on with your work—I’ll wait for the good results.”

With that, he slightly hunched his back, steadied himself on his cane, and walked out of the lab step by step. His thin, hunched silhouette stretched long and thin under the light, casting a faint, flickering shadow on the ground like clawing ghostly hands.

Chang Li watched Zhang Zhaohe’s figure until he completely disappeared from view.

She admitted to herself that she was sometimes too emotional.

Perhaps there had been no need to tell Zhang Zhaohe how exceptional Li Rong was. But she couldn’t help it.

She was filled with too much anger at having been deceived. Yet seeing others in the High Tower Group still in the dark, she also felt powerless.

Sure enough, as soon as Zhang Zhaohe left, the High Tower Group began to stir.

Some members, who trusted Zhang Zhaohe implicitly, would unwittingly act as his accomplices, upholding his views as if that was the most important thing they had learned after joining the group.

“I’m not trying to rain on anyone’s parade, but don’t you think Li Rong is a little too high-profile right now? Isn’t that a bit risky?”

“I’ve seen him give interviews all the time—does he even have his mind on research?”

“I’m not blaming the kid or anything. Fame and praise can be tempting, and it’s easy to lose oneself in them.”

“Honestly, I feel a bit uneasy. I mean, wasn’t it the same kind of hype back then…?”

“So, Professor Chang, Professor Yan, Professor Li, what’s the current progress on the project?”

“Just as the team leader said, keeping a low profile and making quiet progress might be the best approach. His current flamboyant style reminds me a bit of Blue Pivot.”

“Well, he was close to Blue Pivot before, so it’s only natural that he’s been influenced. He’ll gradually change.”

“But he’s not just representing himself anymore. Now, he’s also representing Professor Li and Professor Gu. If he makes any misstep, won’t that…”

Chang Li knew full well that this wave of sentiment within the High Tower Group was orchestrated by Zhang Zhaohe, but Zhang Zhaohe had conveniently disappeared from view.

The thought made her feel sick. If she hadn’t learned the truth earlier, she might have been one of those naively criticizing Li Rong.

Chang Li said firmly, “Everyone, rest assured. The project is progressing very smoothly, and Li Rong is extremely competent. The results will be out soon.”

Yan Youzhong interjected, “Let me just say, when did craving applause and recognition become exclusive to Blue Pivot? If we’re doing good work, don’t we deserve applause too?”

Li Yongshi added, “Honestly, people, stop scaring yourselves for no reason. Li Rong hasn’t even made a mistake yet, and you’re already speculating about what might happen if he does. Planning ahead doesn’t mean imagining problems that don’t exist.”

Jiang Weide finally spoke, “I check in regularly; there’s no need to worry.”

Jiang Weide’s voice carried enough weight to suppress the dissatisfaction toward Li Rong.

But Jiang Weide also understood that the current situation was dangerous. Zhang Zhaohe had been subtly stirring the pot, inciting the High Tower Group to develop a bias against Li Rong and criticize his behavior.

Even if Li Rong succeeded in the future and his research skills were acknowledged, his character and conduct might still be called into question.

This group, once united under Li Qingli and Gu Nong’s leadership, had now become the harshest critics of Li Rong, generating more negativity than even the Hongsuo Institute and Blue Pivot.

Zhang Zhaohe’s move was a cunning one. He was effectively cutting off Li Rong’s path to integrating into the High Tower Group.

Still, there was a silver lining: Blue Pivot’s persistent meddling with the project group.

Ironically, the enemy’s harassment was the one thing capable of uniting the High Tower Group. Seeing Li Rong bear the brunt of Blue Pivot’s mental pressure prevented anyone from continuing to voice criticisms.

Cen Xiao from the Ninth District was particularly useful in this regard. Every time he appeared, everyone in the lab harbored a simmering resentment.

Cen Xiao would nitpick and make seemingly official recommendations for improvements, all under the pretense of professionalism. In reality, his goal was to provoke Li Rong into frustration, hoping to force him into agreeing to create the Luyinxu for Blue Pivot.

This time, Cen Xiao arrived with an impressive entourage of seven or eight people.

He gave Geng An a meaningful glance, and Geng An, along with Yu Fuyan, began collecting samples from several spots in the lab.

Li Rong, dressed in a pristine white lab coat, hands tucked in his pockets, and wearing anti-radiation glasses, fixed his icy gaze on Cen Xiao. 

He had to pause his work to deal with the Ninth District’s surprise inspection.

Song He felt his scalp tingle. “What are they up to this time? Can’t they give it a rest?”

Cen Xiao gave a faintly contemptuous smile. “Don’t be nervous. We’re just checking the cleanliness levels. Surely, Teacher Li wouldn’t fail at something as basic as this, right?”

While Geng An and Yu Fuyan collected samples, Cen Xiao strolled leisurely over to Li Rong, openly scrutinizing his attire. He then reached out as if to remove Li Rong’s glasses.

Li Rong tilted his head slightly, evading the gesture with an air of indifference. He gave Cen Xiao a cold glance and said flatly, “Have your people hurry up. We still have work to do.”

Cen Xiao’s hand paused mid-air before withdrawing awkwardly. Smirking, he replied, “I knew Teacher Li wouldn’t be afraid of inspections. But as I walked through the hallway, I caught a whiff of grilled sausage. Even though it’s the hallway, it’s still close to the lab environment. Teacher Li should manage such things better—getting sick would be unfortunate.”

Behind Li Rong, Ji Xiaochuan stuck out her tongue discreetly.

She had to admit, Cen Xiao’s performance was impeccable. If she didn’t already know this was a ploy, she might have been trembling in fear.

Still, she couldn’t break character. Lowering her head briefly, she then glanced up, feigning a panicked expression as she anxiously looked at Li Rong, unsure of how he would respond to Cen Xiao’s sudden provocation.

Li Rong narrowed his eyes slightly, then turned his head away and said coolly, “Strange, I didn’t smell anything. Perhaps Team Leader Cen is mistaken.”

Without concrete evidence, he wouldn’t allow himself to be trapped by their verbal games.

Cen Xiao nodded with interest. “Is that so? Well then, Teacher Li, carry on with your work. We’ll be back again.”

As he spoke, he reached out and lightly pinched Li Rong’s collar, as if intending to assert dominance. But at the last moment, he abandoned the aggressive move, merely letting his fingers glide along the pristine fabric, straightening it slightly. He patted Li Rong’s chest twice before signaling to Geng An, “Let’s go.”

Li Rong’s throat tightened throughout the encounter, and only after Cen Xiao withdrew his hand did he finally exhale deeply.

Once Cen Xiao left, the lab erupted in indignation.

“What the h*ll! Using the Ninth District’s name to settle personal scores!”

“Exactly! He’s just looking for trouble. Well, we’ll make sure he doesn’t succeed. We’ll finish this project quickly and flawlessly!”

“Right! Let Blue Pivot see the results they can’t touch. That’ll kill them with frustration!”

“Honestly, I can’t coexist with those people from Blue Pivot!”

“Sigh… Possessing a rare talent truly invites trouble. Poor Li Rong, he has it the hardest.”

“Yeah, the pressure on him is immense.”

…

Song He approached cautiously, studying Li Rong’s expression. After hesitating for a moment, he asked, “Uh… Is there really no way to resolve the tension between you and them? These constant inspections are unbearable. What if something really goes wrong?”

At that moment, Ji Xiaochuan displayed an uncharacteristic resolve, straightening her neck. “Wha—what are we afraid of! Anyway, I’m definitely not… not eating grilled sausages anymore!”

Li Rong gave Ji Xiaochuan a helpless smile and then gently reassured, “We’ll deal with whatever comes our way. Just take it one step at a time.”

As he spoke, he absently adjusted his collar before returning to the lab bench to resume his work.

Cen Xiao left the lab with Geng An and Yu Fuyan in tow. Geng An glanced down at the samples in his bag and asked, “Captain, should I find a place to throw these away?”

Cen Xiao replied, “Throw them away? No, test them properly.”

Yu Fuyan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Huh? We’re really testing them? What if Deputy Leader Li gets angry?”

Cen Xiao sighed, slightly exasperated. “This isn’t just for show. Strict inspections are good for him. What if there’s a real risk?”

Yu Fuyan suddenly understood and nodded hurriedly. “Oh, oh, got it!”

The team leader was clearly looking out for the deputy leader, patching up any potential issues before they became problems.

***

Late at night, the world had grown quiet. Li Rong finally wrapped up his day’s work.

The clock had already ticked past 3 a.m. Standing by the roadside, he found himself surrounded by silence under a star-speckled sky. He lifted his gaze, inhaling deeply the misty air, before swiftly turning and heading in another direction.

A parked car by the roadside was coated in dew. He reached out and touched it, his palm coming away damp.

Pulling the car door open, he slipped inside quickly, immediately enveloped by the warmth inside.

“You’re out this late again,” Cen Xiao chided gently.

Li Rong wasted no time. He boldly climbed onto Cen Xiao’s lap, straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck. “Are you tired?”

Cen Xiao chuckled, his tone soft and indulgent. “How could I be tired when we haven’t seen each other for days?”

Li Rong leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss, his movements languid yet deliberate. Pressing himself closer, he murmured, “You were surprisingly restrained today. Why’s that?”

Cen Xiao rested his hands on Li Rong’s waist, squeezing playfully as his breathing grew heavier. “You looked too stunning today. I was afraid I’d lose control.”

Li Rong blinked, his tongue darting out to tease his damp lips. “Oh, I almost forgot—you like uniforms, don’t you? Should I wear one for you next time?”

Cen Xiao’s hand slid down along Li Rong’s spine, his touch lingering. “You did it on purpose today, didn’t you? Even wearing glasses.”

Li Rong laughed openly, his crescent-shaped eyes full of mischief. “Of course. I wanted to tease you.”