The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 182

Li Rong stepped onto the podium, microphone in hand, looking down at the packed lecture hall.

He moved the microphone aside slightly and sighed softly.

Seeing the scene before him brought a wave of emotion.

The podium at A University was once so familiar to him. After joining Hongsuo Research Institute, he frequently returned to teach students in the same field.

Now, it had been two years since he last stood in this spot.

What used to be second nature now felt somewhat unfamiliar.

He lightly rubbed the microphone, moving his lips slightly as he struggled to recall a proper opening line.

Thankfully, his expression remained consistently calm and composed, so the students below didn’t notice his internal hesitation.

Lowering his gaze, Li Rong smiled faintly.

When he smiled, his eyes curved, bright and clear like spring water, radiating warmth brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows. The cold, distant air about him vanished instantly, replaced by an endearing warmth.

“Never did I think I’d have another chance to stand before you all so openly, to explain Luyinxu to you.”

After saying this, he lowered the microphone slightly.

Those were his genuine feelings.

He was walking a path with an uncertain future. Along the way, he didn’t know if the outcome would be a joyful resolution or a catastrophic failure.

Fortunately, he was intelligent, hardworking, and blessed with some luck, which allowed him to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The room was completely silent; hundreds of people sat without uttering a sound.

At that moment, any words of comfort felt inadequate. The deaths of Li Qingli and Gu Nong were irreversible, and the harm they endured could never be erased—despite Li Rong showing no complaints.

Li Rong’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, pushing his emotions aside. He picked up a piece of chalk and said, “Let’s address what everyone is most concerned about. The Luyinxu reconstruction project is already halfway complete. My lab…”

Although it had been two years since he stood on the podium, he quickly adapted. Within minutes, he transitioned from initial awkwardness to a poised and natural state.

He didn’t delve too deeply into advanced topics, nor had he prepared a PowerPoint presentation. Instead, he sketched a simple outline on the blackboard and explained the experimental progress and the treatment mechanism of Luyinxu in an accessible manner.

Among the audience were many media reporters and students from other disciplines. While they might not fully grasp the technicalities, they only needed to know whether the experiment was progressing smoothly.

The crowded room made it warm despite the air conditioning. Sweat trickled down Li Rong’s neck, glistening faintly in the sunlight as it slipped into his collar.

His shirt clung tightly to his back, soaked with sweat, yet he didn’t dare unbutton a single button.

Speaking so much left his voice slightly hoarse, forcing him to pause occasionally to clear his throat.

But there was no denying his charisma. When he spoke about his area of expertise, he exuded confidence and grace, his gestures full of assurance, his eyes sparkling with vigor.

For him, being the center of attention wasn’t a burden—he thrived on expressing himself.

After the lecture, Li Rong unscrewed a bottle of mineral water and took a few sips.

He glanced briefly at the live-streaming camera in the back of the lecture hall. Lowering his gaze, he took a deep breath and said: “The night my parents… passed, they told me they still believed in the majority’s rationality. They believed there were good-hearted people who could see the truth and would help us. They never shirked responsibility for the harm caused to partners or the families of volunteers and were determined to make amends. That’s why I don’t understand why they suddenly lost their will to live. After all, their dreams were unfinished, and bacterial progeria hadn’t been eradicated… Maybe this question will never have an answer. But their lives will continue alongside Luyinxu. That’s the greatest significance of what I do.”

Li Rong finished speaking, nodded slightly, handed the microphone to the staff, and silently left the lecture hall, leaving behind an audience filled with mixed emotions and sighs.

His speech spread rapidly across A University’s social media circles via the internet.

By midday, the video had already reached the Hongsuo Research Institute.

Chang Li played the video and handed it to Yan Youzhong. “Professor Yan, is this what Professors Li and Gu said before their deaths?”

Yan Youzhong was silent for a long time before letting out a cold laugh. “That’s not how Zhang Zhaohe described it.”

Chang Li gritted her teeth, already aware of the discrepancy but still furious upon seeing it with her own eyes. “What did he say, then?”

Li Yongshi chimed in, “He said that Professors Li and Gu were overwhelmed with guilt, believing they deserved the blame. They supposedly became deeply pessimistic and wanted to take responsibility for everything, avoiding further trouble for anyone.”

Chang Li retorted, “But Li Rong was the last person to be with them. He said they never gave up hope.”

Li Yongshi sighed. “Exactly. They wanted to take responsibility, but they didn’t intend to escape by choosing death.”

Chang Li gripped her phone tightly, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “Perhaps this will wake up a few people in the High Tower Group.”

Yan Youzhong replied, “Let’s hope so.”

He had never imagined himself entangled in such a ludicrous web of deception. All of them, unbelievably, had once placed their faith in someone as academically unremarkable as Zhang Zhaohe.

That day, the High Tower Group was eerily silent. No one commented on Li Rong’s speech.

However, everyone understood the situation. Li Rong’s account directly contradicted Zhang Zhaohe’s version, but no one dared to speak up or take a side.

Chang Li couldn’t hold back and finally said, “Did you all see Li Rong’s speech today? He’s genuinely outstanding.”

What she really wanted to highlight was the part where Li Rong mentioned his parents.

Someone tentatively agreed, “Yeah, he really is exceptional.”

“Indeed, he has a promising future ahead of him.”

“I haven’t had the chance to watch it yet; I’ve been busy all day.”

“What speech are you talking about?”

…

Chang Li rolled her eyes in frustration, pointing to her phone. “Who are they trying to fool? This video has gone viral in every circle; I don’t believe they haven’t seen it!”

Yan Youzhong chuckled bitterly. “You’re oversimplifying it. Zhang Zhaohe has already established authority within the High Tower Group. Overthrowing him now isn’t easy. To do so would mean admitting that everyone in this 20,000-strong group was fooled.”

Li Yongshi added, “No one wants to acknowledge they’ve been deceived. But at the same time, they can’t refute what Li Rong said, so they’re pretending not to notice. Honestly, I was the same at first—I didn’t want to admit Zhang Zhaohe was like this, nor did I want to admit my own gullibility. But truth is truth; eventually, everyone will see it for what it is.”

Chang Li said, “Don’t we still have Professor Jiang? He’s about to become the director of the Hongsuo Research Institute.”

Yan Youzhong sighed. “That’s why Zhang Zhaohe has been marginalizing Professor Jiang. He hasn’t succeeded completely, but if Jiang Weide openly opposes Zhang Zhaohe, both the Hongsuo Research Institute and the High Tower Group would fall into chaos.”

Chang Li fumed, “So nothing works! This is infuriating!”

Li Yongshi calmly replied, “For now, we just need to focus on doing our jobs well. It’s impossible to fool everyone all the time.”

In the afternoon, Li Rong arrived at the lab but didn’t get a chance to speak to Chang Li and the others before being summoned to Jiang Weide’s office.

Jiang Weide, who had already begun handling the responsibilities of acting director, was swamped with work and hadn’t been paying much attention to Li Rong recently.

However, today he had to make time.

When Li Rong entered, Jiang Weide made sure to lock the door securely.

Sitting on the sofa, Li Rong grabbed a nearby throw pillow and smiled innocently. “What’s going on, Teacher? Why the secrecy?”

Jiang Weide took a deep breath, his expression solemn. “I need to ask you seriously: on the day your parents passed, did they really say those words to you?”

After watching Li Rong’s speech, Jiang Weide had been deeply unsettled.

He had never wanted to believe that Li Qingli and Gu Nong would end their lives so resolutely.

They had always been such optimistic, kind-hearted people.

But he also understood the weight of the horrific slander and abuse they endured. No one could bear that indefinitely—not even the healthiest of individuals.

Humans are emotional creatures, susceptible to despair. Reaching the breaking point and succumbing to hopelessness often takes only an instant.

Perhaps if they had lasted just one more second, hope might have returned, but it had been too late.

Such cases were all too common, and Jiang Weide couldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility that Li Qingli and Gu Nong had been among them.

Even Jiang Weide himself wasn’t sure he could have survived in such a suffocating and high-pressure environment.

Li Rong paused, then lifted his gaze. The movements of his hands, which had been fiddling with the pillow, stilled. His smile deepened as he looked straight at Jiang Weide but said nothing.

Jiang Weide, palms sweating, repeated the question nervously, “They didn’t willingly give up on life, did they?”

Li Rong shook his head, chuckled softly, and replied nonchalantly, “Professor, you can believe whatever answer you prefer.”

“You—!” Jiang Weide, growing anxious, was almost angry, but he realized that Li Rong would never reveal the truth. With a resigned sigh, he warned, “You’d better be careful. Playing with fire… can burn you.”

He understood that Li Rong was shaking the very foundations of Zhang Zhaohe’s authority within the High Tower Group. If those foundations crumbled, Zhang Zhaohe’s power would collapse entirely.

Li Rong stood lazily, rubbed his bloodshot eyes, and muttered, “Got it.”

Jiang Weide frowned. “Don’t let your youth make you careless about your health. Did you stay up all night in the lab again? Don’t you know that many chronic illnesses are affecting younger people these days?”

“Uh…” Li Rong blinked guiltily. “I’ll head back to the lab now.”

Jiang Weide stopped him, concerned. “Wait. Didn’t you say last time that you liked my wife’s vegetable pancakes? If you really enjoy them, I can bring you one every morning—it’s no trouble.”

Li Rong smiled as he spoke, without hesitation, grabbing Professor Jiang Weide’s sleeve and swaying it playfully like a child. “Don’t just give me vegetables—I’m still growing! Add some meat for me.”

Jiang Weide snorted. “…You sure have a lot of requests.”

After Li Rong left, yawning and looking relaxed, Jiang Weide unconsciously glanced at his sleeve. 

The memory of Li Rong shaking it with that endearing gesture gave him an odd sense of familiarity, as if they had known each other for years. The action felt so natural, so warm, so effortlessly intimate.

Though reluctant to admit it, Jiang Weide found himself oddly charmed by Li Rong’s playful behavior and request for food.

***

Two months passed in the blink of an eye.

By July, the city of A was sweltering, like being inside an oven. 

This year, the heat had arrived unusually early. The sun beat down mercilessly, baking the asphalt until it emitted a harsh, tar-like smell. Meanwhile, the air conditioning in the laboratory worked nonstop.

Li Rong removed his anti-radiation glasses and handed a research paper to Jiang Weide.

“As of today, the reengineering of the Luyinxu compound has been fully completed. Once the production line is activated, we can begin Phase I trials.”

Chang Li and the others had meticulously reviewed the experimental process countless times to ensure there were no errors, but they didn’t dare announce the results publicly before Jiang Weide conducted his own review.

Putting on his reading glasses, Jiang Weide carefully studied the paper Li Rong had written. Hours later, he hurried into the lab to inspect the uncompressed powdered compound that Li Rong had synthesized.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Jiang Weide let out a sharp intake of breath.

Chang Li’s heart leapt. “Professor Jiang, is there a problem?”

Jiang Weide furrowed his brows. After a moment, he nodded slowly, then shook his head. “Theoretically, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just… it doesn’t entirely match the Luyinxu data I remember seeing.”

Chang Li froze. “That can’t be. Didn’t Li Rong memorize everything perfectly?”

Li Rong smiled modestly. “Most of it’s the same. I just incorporated a few of my own ideas.”

He made it sound humble, but everyone present knew that making meaningful innovations in a complex experiment like this required exceptional academic expertise and research capabilities. 

For an average researcher, understanding the original experiment alone would be challenging, let alone improving it.

Jiang Weide instantly grew serious. “This T-cell activation technique is unprecedented. Is it aimed at reducing neurotoxicity and minimizing the release of inflammatory cytokines?”

Li Rong nodded. “Exactly. Theoretically, it should work.”

In truth, he wasn’t just theorizing—it would work. Cen Xiao had already told him: in the previous timeline, GT201’s Phase I trial had succeeded.

Gripping Li Rong’s arm with excitement, Jiang Weide’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Yes! I also believe this activation technique is feasible! This method will indeed make the risks associated with Luyinxu significantly lower.”

Only then did Chang Li let out a long sigh of relief. “You scared me to death.”

Meanwhile, Yan Youzhong leaned close to whisper in Li Yongshi’s ear, “Did you hear that? This part was Li Rong’s own innovation.”

Li Yongshi sighed quietly. “I heard it.”

Yan Youzhong added, “We’ve been underestimating him—by a lot.”

Li Yongshi nodded. “It’s unbelievable. Twenty years old—just twenty years old. Incredible.”

Walking around the lab in high spirits, Jiang Weide declared, “I think we’re ready to begin Phase I trials! Chang Li, quickly share this great news with the High Tower Group. Li Rong, you can also make a public announcement. Everything you’ve accomplished in these two months is extraordinary!”

Li Rong, however, appeared far calmer than Jiang Weide. With his hands tucked casually in the pockets of his lab coat, he chuckled softly. “Professor, I’d like you to be the corresponding author for the GT201 paper.”

Jiang Weide froze, waving his hands hurriedly. “No, no, no! This is your achievement. I didn’t contribute much. I can’t take credit for it.”

But Li Rong’s expression was serious. “Professor, you deserve it.”