The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 189

The following spring, as the river waters warmed and the ice and snow melted, the last patient suffering from bacterial progeria was discharged, fully recovered. This catastrophe, which had torn countless families apart, finally came to an end.

To restore trust in both Blue Pivot and Hongsuo after this absurd crisis, the government approved, Blue Pivot funded, and Hongsuo provided materials to transform the old Li family estate into a memorial museum.

The rooms were painstakingly restored to resemble the daily life of Li Qingli and Gu Nong as closely as possible. Paintings, furniture, and other items that had been auctioned off by the court were reclaimed, often at great cost, and returned to their original places.

The restoration team paid meticulous attention to detail—even the imperfections of the furniture and the chips in the tiles were faithfully recreated.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, and for a moment, it seemed as if nothing had changed.

Li Rong did not participate in the restoration and had never once visited the site after its completion.

This place carried immense significance for Blue Pivot, Hongsuo, and for anyone who shared the collective grief and anger over what had happened. Yet, for him, it meant nothing at all.

The only things he cared about were the two people who would never return.

At the same time, Li Rong had become the most troublesome student since the founding of A University.

He was capable of recreating Luyinxu, he was the leader of the High Tower Group, and his research skills were acknowledged by top scholars. However, he did not even possess a college degree.

The university leadership held three consecutive meetings and finally decided that Li Rong would resume his student status but with complete freedom—free to attend classes and take exams as he pleased. All he needed to do was wait out the time and graduate with a formal diploma.

Many members of the High Tower Group found this absurd. Li Rong’s abilities clearly surpassed that of an average university student—he even outperformed many associate professors. They argued that it was unfair to demand that he go through formalities simply because of his age and lack of a degree.

Several people suggested to Jiang Weide that Li Rong should directly join Hongsuo Research Institute.

The president of A University had no choice but to approach Jiang Weide for coordination, lamenting endlessly about his troubles, leaving Jiang Weide with a splitting headache.

After multiple rounds of negotiation, they ultimately respected the university’s decision.

The result, while somewhat ridiculous, was acceptable to all parties involved.

In fact, Li Rong was quite happy with this arrangement. In both of his lives, he had never experienced a carefree college life. In his previous life, he had devoted himself to research; in this one, he had focused on scheming and planning. Now that everything had settled, he wanted to take things a little easier.

Who wouldn’t want to be a simple, carefree “rice bug” with nothing to worry about?

But fate seemed determined to keep him moving.

Li Rong sat in a lounge chair, holding a cup of milk tea, watching a simulated match of A University’s version of “Who’s Still Standing”. Both sides were drenched in sweat over questions that weren’t particularly difficult, and the score was neck-and-neck. Li Rong couldn’t help but frown repeatedly.

He had been invited to serve as an advisor because A University’s team would soon represent the school in the National College Student Competition.

Technically, as a student of A University, Li Rong could have competed himself. However, a coalition of over a dozen universities unanimously opposed his participation and ruthlessly revoked his eligibility.

Before arriving to guide the team, Li Rong had envisioned a pleasant experience—bonding with his peers, feeling the youthful energy, tenacity, and optimism of university life.

However, after observing a few simulated matches, Li Rong quickly lost his patience.

It wasn’t that the team’s overall ability was poor. Rather, from his perspective, their progress was far too slow, and their efficiency was dismally low.

Even ordering takeout required an hour-long debate, with everyone chiming in. When something didn’t go their way, they wore their dissatisfaction plainly on their faces.

A University was indeed full of privileged geniuses, and many had lofty attitudes, refusing to listen to others. Yet, to Li Rong—who was accustomed to dealing with the prodigies at Hongsuo Research Institute—the foundation of their pride seemed far too fragile, unable to withstand even the slightest challenge.

In short, he didn’t understand why time should be wasted on meaningless things, like debating whether having milk tea every day is healthy.

He actually liked milk tea quite a bit.

While he was musing, Jiang Weide called, saying he planned to involve him in a new project for Hongsuo and wanted to discuss it in person.

The moment Li Rong heard the words “new project,” his attention was immediately piqued.

It was at that moment that clarity dawned on him—there was no point in resisting anymore. He was clearly destined for a lifetime of high-stress work and pressure; being an ordinary university student just wasn’t in the cards for him.

Li Rong stood up, took a deep breath, and flashed a faint, indifferent smile at the young students. “Not bad. You guys don’t seem to need much guidance. I’m busy, so I won’t be coming anymore.”

The student council president quickly ran over, anxious. “Li… Li Rong, please don’t say that! Everyone really needs you.”

Technically, based on age, she should call him “junior,” but Li Rong had clearly transcended such academic conventions, and everyone was used to addressing him by name.

Li Rong replied calmly, “I’ve got work in the lab to focus on.”

The student council president hesitated, her eyes showing some disappointment, but she forced a smile. “I see. Then in the future, we’ll have to invite you… and your lab team to let us visit and see the results!”

“Aren’t you a history major?” Li Rong raised an eyebrow slightly and explained, “The Hongsuo Research Institute’s lab isn’t accessible to outsiders.”

The student council president: “…”

She forced a laugh. “Haha, just joking! Anyway, since you live on campus, I guess we’ll see each other around.”

This time, Li Rong didn’t bother correcting her.

In truth, he didn’t live on campus; he stayed with Cen Xiao.

However, given Cen Xiao’s role as the Ghost-Eye team leader and Li Rong’s position as the High-Tower team leader, their relationship was somewhat sensitive.

In other words, it couldn’t be made public for now.

So, Cen Xiao had moved out of the bustling apartment district and into a private, well-secured villa.

Although it was a bit far from the city, the 45-minute daily commute by car was still manageable.

Li Rong and Cen Xiao made a point of not commuting together, maintaining the façade of being two parallel lines that never intersected. Rumors of their strained relationship continued to circulate in the grapevine.

After leaving the activity center, Li Rong headed straight for the Hongsuo Research Institute.

Jiang Weide had just finished a meeting and was stretching his back and legs in his office. Hearing a knock on the door, he called out, “Come in.”

Li Rong entered, and upon seeing him, Jiang Weide dropped the façade of the research institute’s director and kept twisting his sore waist. “Come here, come here, your hands are strong. Give me a massage.”

Li Rong walked over and pressed down on Jiang Weide’s waist with one hand, expertly finding the pressure points. “You need more exercise; massages won’t help.”

Jiang Weide sighed. “I’m busy! Where would I find the time to be like those folks in the park, practicing tai chi or dancing in the square? It’s enviable, but not realistic.”

Li Rong chuckled softly, looking up at his mentor. “Do you really envy them?”

Jiang Weide used to put up a serious front, feeling that as a mentor he needed to shoulder everything alone. But after realizing Li Rong was far sharper and more perceptive than he’d imagined, he’d long since stopped pretending.

Jiang Weide shot him a glance. “You know I’m just making conversation. Of course I’d rather be in the lab. It feels like everything I do there has meaning, and every second of life isn’t wasted.”

Li Rong’s gaze lowered slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he agreed with Jiang Weide. “Why are you still in this office?”

It had been a year since Jiang Weide became director, but he still hadn’t moved out of his old office. Zhu Yan’s former office was twice the size.

Jiang Weide frowned and shook his head slowly. “I think the feng shui in Zhu Yan’s office is bad. Look at him—running around all those years and ending up like that. He was healthy one moment, then suddenly deteriorated and died mysteriously.”

Li Rong paused his hand movements, speechless. “You’re a scientist. Do you really believe in that?”

Jiang Weide waved dismissively. “Just something to believe in casually. It’s mainly your mentor’s wife. She’s so into traditional Chinese medicine and nutritional therapy that it’s getting super mystical.”

Li Rong blinked. “Do you believe people can reborn?”

Jiang Weide gave him a side-eye, looking exasperated. “You’re even more ridiculous than I am. Aren’t you supposed to be a modern young man?”

Li Rong chuckled lightly and nodded. “Oh.”

Suddenly, Jiang Weide seemed to remember something and perked up. He patted Li Rong’s hand. “You’re at the right age now. I noticed you get along well with Professor Hao’s daughter, Hao Xue. Any interest in taking it further?”

Li Rong looked utterly confused. “Who?”

Jiang Weide’s face fell as he took a deep breath. “Hao Xue!”

Li Rong: “I don’t know her.”

Jiang Weide grew anxious. “How could you not know her? Professor Hao said you’re very close to his daughter. You personally coached their competition team, and she even bought you milk tea. You only drink the milk tea she gives you!”

Li Rong: “…Is it possible that I just really like sweet drinks?”

Jiang Weide: “The girl clearly likes you. Why don’t you consider starting a relationship?”

Li Rong gave a wry smile. So that’s what was going on.

He’d always assumed the milk tea was a collective effort by the student council, never realizing it was a personal gesture from the head of the Academic Department.

It wasn’t that he was oblivious to romantic feelings, but he was already 27 this year. For girls significantly younger than him, he didn’t even entertain the thought.

Besides, he was far too busy to spend time deciphering the thoughts of people unrelated to his work.

Li Rong replied firmly, “No way. I already like someone.”

Jiang Weide looked skeptical. “Since when do you have someone you like? You’re either busy exonerating people or doing research. Where do you even find the time for romance?”

Li Rong responded seriously, “Efficient living—nothing gets delayed.”

Jiang Weide was half-convinced. “Really?”

Li Rong, with an entirely straight face, said, “Yes, really. Moreover, the person I like has a bad temper, gets jealous easily, and is very possessive. If they find out someone’s trying to introduce me to a girlfriend, they’ll definitely be upset.”

Jiang Weide wanted to retort, You’ve got some peculiar taste, but held back.

“Fine, whatever, it’s none of my business. It’s just Professor Hao—maybe he heard something from his daughter—he really thinks the two of you could work out. He even mentioned it at today’s quarterly meeting with Blue Pivot. I’ll casually bring it up next time.”

Li Rong’s expression grew serious. “Where did he say this?”

Jiang Weide replied, “At the Hongsuo-Blue Pivot quarterly cooperation meeting. Don’t worry, it’s all upper management. Your possessive little girlfriend won’t hear about it.”

Li Rong: “…”

He was well aware of how quickly gossip spread within Blue Pivot, especially if it involved Hongsuo.

It wouldn’t be long before Cen Xiao caught wind of it.

Considering he’d already had one incident involving Song Yuanyuan, adding another would be incredibly troublesome.

Not to mention, he had indeed accepted the milk tea someone gave him.

At the Ghost-Eye Group Office in District Nine, Cen Xiao glanced down at the document in his hands before shifting his gaze to his father, who was wearing a sour expression.

Finally, Cen Xiao set the document aside and said coolly, “Chairman Cen, you don’t seriously think the Ghost-Eye Group belongs to the Cen family, do you?”

Cen Qing sat on the sofa, a cup of premium Puer tea brewed by Geng An beside him. He had taken only one sip before setting it aside, untouched.

During the wait for his son to approve the paperwork, Cen Qing’s face was full of impatience, as though it were Cen Xiao waiting on him instead of the other way around.

Cen Qing let out a cold laugh. “Please, I’m not that presumptuous. The Cen family tradition has always been trying to hold onto everything and ending up with nothing.”

Cen Xiao: “?”

He maintained his usual distant attitude toward his father—not too close, not too distant. That was just how they interacted.

But today, Cen Qing seemed unusually resentful, speaking with a sense of grievance and hidden meaning.

Seeing Cen Xiao frown, clearly not understanding but also uninterested in listening, Cen Qing finally began to lose his composure.

“Heh.”

Cen Qing signaled to Xu Feng, who had been standing quietly to the side.

There were some things Cen Qing would never say outright, but bottling them up wasn’t his style either.

Xu Feng immediately stepped forward with a smile and explained, “Here’s the thing. At today’s quarterly meeting, a professor from Hongsuo mentioned that the High Tower team leader, Li Rong, is an exceptional young talent. The professor said his daughter and Li Rong have a mutual understanding, often drinking milk tea together and such. He’s very pleased and feels he doesn’t need to worry about his daughter’s future anymore. Chairman Cen might be concerned about how busy you are with Ghost-Eye Group affairs and that you’d have to deal with this on top of it.”

Cen Xiao raised an eyebrow, sharply catching the key phrase: “Mutual understanding?”

Xu Feng smiled. “I’m not exaggerating; that’s exactly what was said.”

Cen Qing sneered, “All that effort for nothing.”

When Cen Qing first realized Cen Xiao’s feelings for Li Rong, he was deeply resistant.

The anger had rushed to his head, and he had been tempted to oppose Cen Xiao outright.

But rationality ultimately prevailed. No matter how he felt, there was no denying that Li Qingli and Gu Nong had been wrongfully accused. Clearing their names was the right thing to do and made him feel somewhat at ease.

What truly nagged at him was Xiao Muran’s lingering affection for Li Qingli, which had caused an undercurrent of estrangement in their family. The bitterness of it was something only he truly understood.

And perhaps because of this, he could even comprehend Cen Xiao’s infatuation with Li Rong.

After all, Xiao Muran had passed on her preference for Li Qingli’s type—gentle and elegant, with finely crafted features. Cen Xiao was her biological son, after all.

But Cen Xiao’s attachment to Li Rong had gone so far.

So far that he would risk everything for him, standing against everyone, even overturning the balance of power between District Nine, Blue Pivot, and Hongsuo.

Cen Qing’s resentment was born of disappointment.

His son, cold and distant by nature, had fallen so incomprehensibly for Li Rong.

And falling in love was one thing, but now that everything was resolved, Li Rong was even being introduced to other women. Did they take the Cen family for fools?

“That’s it?” Cen Xiao really wanted to roll his eyes, but as the head of the Ghost-Eye Group, he restrained himself.

Cen Qing’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you don’t mind?”

Surely, his son wouldn’t stoop so low as to cling to someone who entertained others!

Cen Xiao chuckled coldly. “You don’t know Li Rong like I do. What kind of reaction are you expecting from me?”

Cen Qing: “…”

He was about to lose it.

Xu Feng quietly chimed in, “The Chairman is only concerned about you.”

Cen Xiao signed off on the District Three documents, handed them to Xu Feng, and replied indifferently, “No need.”

Cen Qing stormed out in frustration. Walking through the halls of the District Nine building, he couldn’t help but vent to Xu Feng. “I used to read about You Wang of Zhou in history and wonder how someone so stupid could sit on the throne. Now I get it. History truly is educational. A fool can not only be emperor but also head of the Ghost-Eye Group.”

Xu Feng laughed awkwardly. “Chairman, do you really think Cen Xiao is being taken advantage of emotionally?”

Cen Qing fumed, “It’s not far off! He can’t even bring this relationship into the open, and there are still people coveting Li Rong!”

Xu Feng cautiously added, “Actually, the Madam and the Xiao family have introduced plenty of matches for Cen Xiao, too. She just doesn’t tell you. Being the head of the Ghost-Eye Group is a huge draw. Plenty of families are eyeing him for their daughters.”

Cen Qing glanced at Xu Feng and gradually calmed down. After a moment, he couldn’t help but ask, “What if they each fell for someone else? Could we just pretend this never happened?”

Xu Feng was silent for a while before replying regretfully, “Chairman, I don’t believe feelings are unchanging, but their experience is too unique. After living through something so intense, everyone else will pale in comparison. To them, only each other is irreplaceable.”

After Cen Qing left, Cen Xiao glanced at his computer desktop, where a large white-tailed cat stared back at him. He couldn’t help but smile.

Although he couldn’t yet replace the cat’s photo with a real one of Li Rong, he could still see those familiar, aloof eyes through the cat’s blue irises.

This sort of thing didn’t bother him in the slightest. After all, Li Rong wasn’t someone who gave just anyone a second glance.

Work had been busy with the start of spring, and Cen Xiao worked overtime until past nine. By the time he drove back to his small villa, the sky was pitch black.

The night lacked moonlight, and the neighborhood’s lush greenery completely obscured the streetlights.

Through the gaps in the leaves, he could faintly make out a light in the villa’s bedroom. It wasn’t bright enough for reading or working.

He immediately had a thought: Li Rong must be back, but he wasn’t working.

Parking the car, Cen Xiao went straight upstairs from the garage.

The living room was quiet. He draped his coat over a chair, loosened the top button of his shirt, and ascended the wooden staircase.

“Baby,” he called out softly. He could have been heard, but there was no response.

Cen Xiao raised an eyebrow.

At the bedroom door, he pushed it open, only to be met with Li Rong throwing himself into his arms.

Cen Xiao instinctively tightened his embrace, realizing he was experiencing a rare moment of being on the receiving end of affection.

The person in his arms smelled fresh and fragrant, as though freshly showered. His hair was blown dry, and he wore an aloe-scented body wash that was cool and light.

Most notably, Li Rong was dressed in a lab coat.

The soft white fabric, with pale buttons, revealed a generous expanse of skin at the open collar.

This, apparently, was his treat for the evening.

Li Rong hooked his arms around Cen Xiao’s neck, lifting his eyes to study his expression with those clear, peach-blossom eyes. “Any messy rumors in Blue Pivot today?”

Cen Xiao knew Li Rong was gauging his reaction to decide whether he needed to soothe him or not.

The gesture was endearing, reminiscent of a baby assessing their surroundings to determine whether to cry or stay calm.

So Cen Xiao remained composed, his hand lightly resting on Li Rong’s back without wandering.

Meeting his gaze, Cen Xiao’s tone was even. “The rumor about Leader Li and a girl drinking milk tea together?”

Li Rong scrunched his nose, his eyelashes fluttering before he switched to an innocent expression. “You don’t believe it, do you? I just like sweet drinks. I don’t even know who bought it.”

His fingers idly toyed with Cen Xiao’s collar, the motion and his pitiful gaze clearly an attempt to please.

Cen Xiao suppressed a smile, amused that such an absurd rumor had brought him this unexpected delight.

Li Rong might have suspected Cen Xiao was pretending, but his uncertainty—and how much he cared—prompted him to yield first.

In this world, Cen Xiao was the only person Li Rong would willingly compromise for.

Thankfully, Cen Xiao didn’t plan to drag out his teasing.

“You love sweet drinks. I’ll buy them for you from now on.”

Cen Xiao lightly pinched the fabric of Li Rong’s lab coat. It was thin and clearly not one of his usual ones—a flimsy new purchase, obviously.

Through the delicate material, Cen Xiao could feel the warm, tangible presence of Li Rong’s body underneath.

His hand lingered, stroking the fabric teasingly, before leaning in to press a kiss on those aloe-scented lips. His voice lowered as he feigned reprimand, “Team Leader Li, wearing nothing under your lab coat—do you always conduct experiments like this?”