The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 20

The person in his arms felt all too real, and Cen Xiao instinctively tensed.

Li Rong’s back pressed lightly against his arm, exerting just enough pressure—not too much to be uncomfortable but not so little as to suggest he might pull away.

All Cen Xiao had to do was tighten his grip, and he could easily wrap his arm around Li Rong’s slender waist.

The tailored suit fit Li Rong’s frame perfectly, accentuating the graceful lines of his waist. No matter the angle, it was an elegant, captivating sight.

Li Rong didn’t wear cologne, but he carried a faint, distinctive scent—a mix of freshly brewed tea and ripe fruit, like the fragrant burst that fills a room as soon as the door opens. When Cen Xiao leaned in close, he could catch it emanating from Li Rong’s neck and the veins of his exposed wrist.

Li Rong’s smiling face brimmed with charm, and with just a few lighthearted remarks, he had thrown everyone into a state of deep discomfort and embarrassment.

The room seemed trapped under an invisible moral net, leaving no one unscathed.

The irony was that the very people who had called him shameless and immoral now looked horrified, as though they had never anticipated he might actually act the way they accused him of.

Mother Song’s narrow, dark-red eyebrows shot up as lines furrowed her overly smooth forehead. The veins at her temples throbbed, and her blood pressure surged, leaving her lightheaded and dizzy.

Mother Song’s voice sharpened as she pointed at Li Rong. “This is not the place for your nonsense!”

She had worked painstakingly to build connections with Xiao Muran, not to have Cen Xiao witness Li Rong’s outbursts.

Her plans had seemed foolproof: severing the past between Song Yuanyuan and Li Rong in front of friends and family, and even offering opportunities for Song Yuanyuan to get closer to Cen Xiao.

But everything had unraveled. This grand, elegant birthday banquet was now like a strawberry cake spoiled by a fly—impossible to swallow, yet hard to spit out.

Song Yuanyuan quickly chimed in, adopting a pitiful expression as she looked at Li Rong. She murmured timidly, “Ah Rong, don’t be like this. Don’t speak of yourself that way. I know you’re angry with me.”

Ever since seeing the unspoken tension between Li Rong and Cen Xiao in the elite class, Song Yuanyuan had been convinced both men harbored feelings for her.

She had prepared herself for Li Rong’s anger, his rage, even for him to have a physical altercation with Cen Xiao.

But this? Li Rong wasn’t fighting Cen Xiao. He was planning to date him?

Li Rong lifted his eyes to glance at Song Yuanyuan briefly before looking away. He sighed deeply, his tone carrying the weariness of someone disillusioned. “I used to be proud and hot-tempered, but after the blows I’ve endured this past month, I’ve had an epiphany. I’ve decided to become a salted fish. Boss Cen, are you interested?”

Based on his experiences from his previous life, Cen Xiao would be more than eager to whisk him away without a second thought.

But… Haha.

This Cen Xiao didn’t even have his own home yet.

Mother Song: “…”

Her blood pressure soared to 170 as she felt faint from sheer anger.

What irked her most was that Cen Xiao hadn’t rejected Li Rong outright.

Cen Xiao appeared entirely unbothered by Li Rong’s suggestion. Instead, a faint smile played on his lips, and his gaze deepened. Keeping his arms around Li Rong, he subtly tightened his hold, drawing him even closer. “If you’re serious about liking men, I might consider it.”

His tone was unhurried, his gaze unflinching, as though coming out was of no concern to him; he simply wanted an honest answer.

Li Rong felt a surge of familiar possessiveness—a strong, unmistakable force that reminded him of the night of their university graduation.

He tightened his lips and turned to meet Cen Xiao’s eyes.

The two maintained an intimate posture, their faces close, eyes locked.

Yet in their gazes, there was no trace of affection or longing.

Cen Xiao’s eyes were predatory, his intent increasingly blatant in Li Rong’s silence.

Li Rong, for his part, gritted his teeth, his eyelids trembling faintly, casting a deep crease in his expression.

Do you truly like him?

Li Rong didn’t know himself.

Sure, Cen Xiao was obsessive and unhinged, but he was also attractive and wealthy. Most importantly, he would one day gain access to advanced privileges in Blue Pivot.

This wasn’t the first time he had tangled with Cen Xiao. Familiar with the routine, Li Rong knew how to turn the situation to his advantage, so why not go along with it?

At this point in his life, he wasn’t about to let emotions or impulses dictate his actions. Whether he liked someone or not was a question he didn’t even bother to explore.

Besides, recklessly giving away one’s feelings was far too foolish.

Even Cen Xiao’s feelings for him weren’t merely about simple affection. The delicate balance between them was maintained by mutual interests. 

Both carried too many secrets and were far too skilled at concealing them. The game of unearthing each other’s truths while guarding their own was a sport that clever people like them relished. 

Li Rong was the first to avoid Cen Xiao’s gaze. His tongue lightly swept over his dry lips, moistening them. Then, with a gentle, enigmatic smile, he said, “What counts as liking someone? How about I kiss you and find out?”

The moment Li Rong said the word kiss, Mother Song’s cheek muscles twitched slightly. The sagging skin near her cheekbones was pulled into shallow wrinkles. 

Cen Xiao’s lips parted slightly as though to speak. 

Li Rong instinctively perked up, eager to catch whatever he was about to say. 

But before anything could be said, Mother Song was overcome by an inexplicable wave of panic. She couldn’t deny that today, Li Rong exuded a striking radiance that made him stand out from the crowd. 

Having spent years navigating social circles of fame and fortune, Mother Song had a sharper eye than most. 

She had watched Li Rong grow up. While always exquisitely good-looking, his cold demeanor made him unapproachable and unlikable, leaving him with few romantic prospects. 

For the first time, though, she noticed how every smile and glance from Li Rong carried a depth shaped by time. Even as a man, he was captivating enough to ensnare hearts. 

She abruptly interrupted Cen Xiao. “Little Cen, don’t play along with his nonsense. He’s just using you to spite our Yuanyuan!” 

Cen Xiao laughed and turned to her with a sharp retort. “Oh? You spent a month playing mahjong with my mom and helping her with cards—wasn’t that just to use my family to establish connections with Blue Pivot?” 

Mother Song’s eyes widened, speechless at his blunt accusation. 

Truths like these weren’t meant to be exposed so openly, especially not in front of all the influential people from Hongsuo gathered here. 

Mother Song could feel the gazes shifting away from Li Rong and landing on her. Those eyes brimmed with suspicion and disdain. The Song family had initially risen to prominence by leaning on Li Qingli, so most of their connections were with people from Hongsuo. 

Members of the Hongsuo Institute were typically proud and had a particular disdain for Blue Pivot’s Eighth District. Mother Song had invited Cen Xiao under the guise of being Song Yuanyuan’s classmate. Now, with her motives laid bare by Cen Xiao himself, she found herself on a metaphorical pyre, unable to climb down. 

A murmur rippled through the crowd. 

“Who is this Cen Xiao? Wasn’t he supposed to be Yuanyuan’s classmate?” 

“You don’t know? He’s Cen Qing’s son from Blue Pivtor’s Third District. And from what I’ve heard, he and Yuanyuan aren’t even in the same class.”

“Hah, so they’re ditching Hongsuo connections to cozy up to Blue Pivot’s big shots now?”

“I thought this was supposed to be a straightforward birthday party. Coming here with ulterior motives leaves a bad taste.”

….

The longstanding animosity between Hongsuo and Blue Pivot was enough to make this crowd immediately forget about mocking Li Rong.

In the end, a sense of loyalty to one’s side trumped any so-called sense of justice.

Mother Song’s lips turned pale, her panic visibly growing.

“Everyone, don’t misunderstand. Yuanyuan has always had feelings for Cen Xiao. As her mother, I just wanted to create an opportunity for her.”

With that, she gave Song Yuanyuan a little shove.

Song Yuanyuan stumbled forward, glancing back at her mother nervously.

She was completely lost—this scenario hadn’t been rehearsed, and she had no idea how to respond.

“Y-Yes… I’ve always liked Cen Xiao. I was planning to confess to him at the party.”

Li Rong smiled lightly, his tone laced with amusement. “You’ve always liked Cen Xiao? Then why did you say you wanted to celebrate your birthday with me?”

Song Yuanyuan was left speechless, utterly cornered.

Cen Xiao likes me, doesn’t he? So why did he say he wanted to give things with Li Rong a try?

And Li Rong, wasn’t he supposed to be hung up on me? Why has he suddenly turned so cold?

“Heh, what an interesting evening,” someone in the crowd remarked. “Pity it’s getting late. I think I’ll be heading home.”

“My kid is waiting for me to practice golf; I’ll be leaving too.”

“People shouldn’t try to be too clever. It usually backfires.”

“The most important thing? Don’t take us for fools.”

“Let’s go; my driver’s been waiting for ages.”

…

The clumsy explanations from Mother Song and Song Yuanyuan weren’t enough to convince anyone. Many of the Hongsuo-affiliated guests hadn’t been aware of Cen Xiao’s identity, but once it was pointed out, they immediately saw through Mother Song’s intentions.

No one likes to be betrayed by their own, especially when their relationship with the Song family was purely transactional, devoid of genuine loyalty.

It became evident that Li Rong had orchestrated this spectacle to disgust the Song family. Although his mention of relying on the Cen family was embarrassing, it reflected poorly on Li Qingli and Gu Nong—not on them.

More and more guests began to take the opportunity to leave. Mother Song tried to hold on to one or two, but others slipped away, and soon half the hall was empty.

Li Rong surveyed the scene, satisfied with the unraveling of the once-lively banquet. Gently patting Cen Xiao’s hand to signal him to release his grip, he stood up and approached Song Yuanyuan.

Song Yuanyuan kept her head bowed, teeth clenched, unable to meet Li Rong’s gaze.

Li Rong lowered his eyes, quietly observing the girl he had grown up with.

No matter how beautiful their shared childhood had been, a single turning point could render it meaningless.

Li Rong spoke slowly and deliberately, “As of today, we are officially done.”

Song Yuanyuan bit her lip, her eyes reddening.

When Li Rong said those words, there wasn’t even a trace of affection in his voice.

I was the one who betrayed him first, but why does it feel like I’m the one being abandoned?

Mother Song’s face twisted in rage, her muscles trembling as she pointed at Li Rong. “Li Rong!” 

Li Rong snorted lightly, ignoring her. Turning back, he raised his chin at Cen Xiao. “I’m leaving. Are you coming, Boss Cen?”

The autumn night was cold, heavy with frost and mist.

The air felt damp, and even the asphalt seemed slick, as if freshly painted in ink. The few insects that usually circled the streetlights had all but disappeared.

Li Rong tightened his formal jacket, buttoning it all the way to the top, but the chill of the night still bit through, leaving him shivering as soon as he stepped outside.

The outfit, for all its elegance, offered little warmth. In moments, the heat from his body had been entirely stolen away by the wind.

Li Rong sniffled irritably. As they say online, if you want to look stylish, you can’t care about staying warm.

Just then, he heard the sound of tires on asphalt approaching from behind.

The car stopped in front of him, and the left door opened. Cen Xiao leaned casually against the back seat, his voice low and calm. “Get in.”

Li Rong glanced up and met his gaze.

Those eyes were dark and clear, sparkling with a sharp intensity—just like a blue-golden chinchilla eyeing a piece of fish.

Without hesitation, Li Rong climbed into the car, shutting the door firmly behind him. As the warmth of the vehicle enveloped him, his body couldn’t help but shiver from the stark contrast.

Cen Xiao immediately noticed the chill radiating off him.

“Turn up the heat,” he instructed the driver.

Warm air filled the cabin, and Li Rong felt as if even his lashes were coated in mist.

He covered his mouth and coughed lightly a few times before leaning heavily against the backrest, exhausted.

The suburban road was poorly lit, the dim streetlights casting faint pools of light that barely illuminated the ground.

Inside the car, it was just as dark, the lack of light creating an intimate, enclosed atmosphere, as though every word spoken within would remain sealed away forever.

Li Rong tilted his head to study Cen Xiao’s profile.

In the shadows, he couldn’t see Cen Xiao’s eyes, but he exuded an air of dominance, his presence pressing Li Rong for answers without uttering a word.

—–Really like men? Then I might consider it.

From the past to the present, he had never, ever told Cen Xiao that he liked him.

Li Rong blinked, his breathing shallow. Reaching out with a cold finger, he lightly poked Cen Xiao’s shoulder, offering a different answer.

“Cen Xiao, if there’s only one piece of foie gras left at the table, I’d leave it for you.”

Cen Xiao turned to look at him, his gaze deep and inscrutable.

A car passed by on the opposite side, its headlights piercing through the darkness and flooding the interior of their car with blinding light.

In that fleeting moment, Cen Xiao thought he saw something in Li Rong’s eyes—something honest, unguarded, and utterly sincere.

“That’s something I could only wish for,” Cen Xiao said in a deep voice. After a brief pause, he added, “That’s my answer.”

Li Rong understood—it was in response to his earlier question, “How about I kiss you?”

With a faint smile in his eyes, he turned slightly as the headlights of a passing car momentarily lit up the interior before plunging it back into darkness. In a low murmur, he said, “Expired.”

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