The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 22

The duty of returning the paper ball to Yang Fenfang ultimately fell on Li Rong.

Because Yang Fenfang felt guilty toward him, his tantrum seemed entirely justified.

As expected, when Yang Fenfang received the crumpled ball, her expression was one of pure confusion, and when she unfolded it, she was utterly speechless.

Yet, as she stared at Li Rong’s candid face, the words she wanted to say stayed trapped in her throat.

She smoothed the wrinkled paper with a resigned sigh, glancing at the principal’s messy signature at the bottom. Knowing how fond he was of leaving his mark on official documents, Yang Fenfang carefully tucked the notice into her teaching materials, hoping the weight would flatten it out.

Li Rong smiled. “Teacher, I’ll head back now.”

Just as he turned to leave, Yang Fenfang grabbed his arm.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her lips trembled, the words hesitating on the edge before retreating.

In the end, she could only rub her palms together nervously while holding onto his arm.

Li Rong looked up and said gently, “Teacher, if you have something to say, just say it.”

Yang Fenfang sighed deeply instead.

Li Rong was a child who inspired both admiration and pity.

Dealing with his affairs over the past few months had tested her conscience—not just as a teacher or an elder, but as a human being.

She had once admired Li Rong greatly. He was intelligent, outstanding, disciplined, from a good family, and undeniably good-looking. In every way, he seemed like a child blessed by the heavens to enjoy all the world’s beauty.

As his homeroom teacher, she had even interacted with Li Qingli and Gu Nong several times. Toward these two scientists, she felt both reverence and trust.

Li Qingli and Gu Nong were the kindest, most compassionate, and gentle intellectuals Yang Fenfang had ever met. She once took pride in being able to converse with them so closely.

When the scandal first broke, the internet was flooded with accusations, each one detailed and d*mning, as though every claim was indisputably true. Yet the two people who were condemned so harshly online were utterly different from the Li Qingli and Gu Nong she knew and had interacted with.

Perhaps human nature is complex, and she couldn’t say for certain what Li Qingli and Gu Nong might have done in private. But based on her limited personal experience, she didn’t believe the rumors, even without evidence.

Still, she felt powerless. She couldn’t speak up for Li Qingli and Gu Nong, let alone openly side with Li Rong.

She was just a small part of society. When everyone pointed fingers at Li Qingli and Gu Nong, the best she could do was remain silent to avoid standing out.

But every time she asked Li Rong to give something up, it felt like a piece of her conscience was being carved away. She even began to doubt her own qualifications as a teacher.

“I noticed you’ve been getting closer to Cen Xiao recently.”

Yang Fenfang lowered her voice. She hadn’t wanted to bring this up, but if she didn’t, she feared she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Li Rong didn’t react immediately.

Initially, he had deliberately gotten close to Cen Xiao purely out of a desire to use him.

His past life experience had taught him that, while Cen Xiao’s methods of winning him over were deplorable and their relationship had once filled him with hatred, Cen Xiao had always been infatuated with his looks and body.

Deeper emotional connection? Perhaps not. But superficial attraction was enough for Li Rong to achieve his goals.

However, Cen Xiao was slightly different now.

Li Rong could still sense that Cen Xiao liked his face as much as ever, but his actions had become more restrained and reserved.

Perhaps Cen Xiao had yet to achieve the power he desired, so he couldn’t act as recklessly as before.

People’s hearts are made of flesh, after all. Though Li Rong hadn’t forgotten the things that made him hate Cen Xiao, he couldn’t entirely ignore the good things either.

He was simply curious about why Yang Fenfang had suddenly brought this up.

Yang Fenfang struggled internally. On the one hand, she knew she shouldn’t reveal a student’s secrets. On the other, she feared the last member of the Li family might blindly stumble into disaster.

“Li Rong, I hope you can live a peaceful, quiet, and simple life in the future. At the very least, you should keep your distance from Blue Pivot.”

Li Rong raised an eyebrow.

“Isn’t it good that Cen Xiao and I are getting along?”

If Yang Fenfang knew that, in his past life, he and Cen Xiao hadn’t gotten entangled until after college, and even then, their relationship was a secret known to only a few, she probably wouldn’t be advising him to stay away from Blue Pivot now.

Yang Fenfang gave him a look like one reserved for naive children and gently shook her head.

“You two have been in the same class for two years. When have you ever gotten along? Why has that suddenly changed now? Think about it.”

She had laid it out plainly. Li Rong was smart enough to grasp her meaning.

At first, when Cen Xiao refused to step down as class monitor, Yang Fenfang hadn’t thought much of it.

But after Li Rong fell ill, Cen Xiao’s behavior had raised her suspicions.

Why would Cen Xiao, of all people, take Li Rong to the hospital? She didn’t buy the excuse of “classmate camaraderie” for a second.

Yet Li Rong acted as though he hadn’t understood a word she’d said, blinking innocently.

“We sit together now, so we naturally talk more, and our relationship has improved.”

Yang Fenfang clenched her teeth. She’d already said this much and couldn’t backtrack now.

“As your homeroom teacher, I hear things. Cen Xiao wants to apply for the Ninth District. Think about that.”

This time, Li Rong was genuinely taken aback.

Since his rebirth, not a single thing had deviated from his predictions and plans—until now.

What Yang Fenfang had just told him was the only event that had veered far off its original course.

The Ninth District of Blue Pivot was a place that both the Hongsuo Research Institute and Blue Pivot Joint Chamber of Commerce found immensely troubling.

Though it was nominally under the United Commerce Association’s jurisdiction, it was effectively independent and had no overt interactions with other districts.

The people there… could only be described as peculiar. Li Rong had never encountered such a group of highly disciplined, almost emotionless individuals who operated with machine-like precision.

Even he knew little about the Ninth District’s selection process, internal management, or operations. 

All he knew was that its functional department, known externally as the Ghost Eye Group, was a Damocles sword hanging over everyone’s heads.

The Ninth District’s admission guidelines were public: there was no upper age limit for applicants, only a minimum of eighteen years old. Anyone could apply, and passing the examination granted them entry. However, formal acceptance required submitting a “pledge of loyalty.”

Yang Fenfang likely believed that Cen Xiao’s willingness to help Li Rong stemmed from a desire to extract more hidden truths about Li Qingli and Gu Nong to use as his pledge.

Li Rong didn’t think Cen Xiao would use him, though. Even in his past life, Cen Xiao’s presence had spared him a great deal of trouble.

He had to admit that the Song family’s strategy—building connections in both Hongsuo and Blue Pivot—was astute, smoothing the way for many matters.

Cen Xiao could have passed the recruitment exam for District Three in his sophomore year.

In District Three, he had thrived and, within a few years, nearly ousted Cen Qing from power.

Had Cen Xiao always intended to aim for the Ninth District during high school?

Still…

If Cen Xiao truly entered the Ninth District… Li Rong’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and his gaze lowered as his pupils contracted.

Perhaps it could bring him even greater benefits.

As he left Yang Fenfang’s office, the light streaming through the atrium had shifted.

Cen Xiao’s impatience was evident as he frowned slightly and glanced at his watch.

“What took you so long?”

Standing at the doorway, Li Rong tilted his head and quietly observed him for a few seconds. Before Cen Xiao could grow suspicious, Li Rong broke into a smile, feigning surprise.

“Been waiting for me this whole time?”

Cen Xiao never brought up certain topics, and Li Rong never asked. Even if he did, he wouldn’t get a truthful answer.

Still, Cen Xiao sensed something unusual from the way Li Rong was looking at him and asked in a low voice, “What did Yang Fenfang say to you?”

Li Rong shrugged, letting out a deliberately helpless sigh. “She advised me not to act impulsively, to think carefully about giving up this opportunity. She said I could get in on my own anyway.”

This explanation was flawless because it was exactly the kind of thing Yang Fenfang, a nagging and somewhat tedious person, would say. After years as a homeroom teacher, she loved having heart-to-heart talks and preaching universal values and survival strategies in society.

Cen Xiao accepted the explanation for now. He withdrew his gaze, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and turned to head back to the classroom.

Li Rong chuckled softly, a hint of smugness in his tone. “Still trying to say you weren’t waiting for me.”

When Li Rong was pleased with himself, he couldn’t help but press his lips together slightly, holding a puff of air in his mouth. His eyes curved as he glanced sideways, mischievous and bright, making him seem particularly vivid and alive.

Cen Xiao pretended not to hear him.

Lately, many things had exceeded his expectations—his attitude toward Li Rong, his blatant favoritism toward him.

Cen Xiao was a meticulous person who disliked deviating from what he could control.

He knew he should keep his distance from Li Rong, at least in the eyes of others, until he had built enough power.

But Li Rong was completely unmanageable.

And he…

Li Rong quickened his pace, catching up with Cen Xiao. “Have you ever tried the school cafeteria food? Wanna give it a shot at lunch? Otherwise, wouldn’t high school life be incomplete?”

In both his past and current life, Li Rong had never eaten at A High’s cafeteria. Gu Nong was extremely particular about health and nutrition, banning him from eating anything overly greasy or salty. His meals were meticulously prepared by Gu Nong herself.

In her spare time, Gu Nong had earned certifications as a Level 1 Chef, Nutritionist, Tea Specialist, and even a Massage Therapist…

Li Rong thought his mother might have an obsession with earning certificates, as she seemed more thrilled by each new one than when she won the Galen Prize.

To this, Li Qingli would always say, Everyone should have hobbies outside of work.

Cen Xiao glanced at him and bluntly shattered the illusion: “You’re the only one who hasn’t. We’re not that spoiled.”

He knew perfectly well what Li Rong’s life had been like before his family’s downfall. The Li family’s driver had always delivered meal boxes to the school on time, and they were impeccably prepared, with the food arranged like works of art, both beautiful and appetizing.

He often saw Li Rong sitting in the rooftop pantry by the window, calmly laying a napkin over his lap, straightening his back, and eating slowly and gracefully.

As for him, neither Cen Qing nor Xiao Muran had likely ever set foot in A High’s cafeteria.

Li Rong studied Cen Xiao’s expression and realized he’d been a bit presumptuous.

He had assumed that, given Cen Xiao’s background, he too had never eaten the cafeteria’s greasy fare.

But he recalled Jian Fu once mentioning that they couldn’t bear to splurge on something like jade fish soup and only ate simple boxed meals for lunch.

In truth, he didn’t fully understand Cen Xiao either.

“Ugh, so cold. I forgot my hand warmer,” Li Rong muttered as he sidled closer to Cen Xiao. As their shoulders brushed, he naturally slipped his hand into Cen Xiao’s pocket.

Instantly, his hand was enveloped in warmth.

Caught off guard, Cen Xiao stopped in his tracks. His hand in the pocket didn’t move.

Li Rong’s fingers were icy, so cold that it felt like his veins were filled with frost. The moment Li Rong’s hand entered, it seemed to sap most of the warmth from the pocket.

No one had ever dared to treat Cen Xiao like a walking heater before.

Li Rong, however, looked entirely natural, letting out a contented sigh. “So warm. Keep my hand warm for me.”

The hallway was empty during class, and the sunlight streaming through the atrium fell straight to the ground floor. On either side, the corridors were filled with a chilly breeze.

There was still some distance to the classroom—too far to completely warm Li Rong’s fingers.

But Cen Xiao didn’t reject the gesture. After taking a couple of steps, his eyelids twitched slightly. He turned his hand over and clasped Li Rong’s fingers in his palm.