The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 23

Li Rong hadn’t expected Cen Xiao to hold his hand.

Holding hands could sometimes signify something far deeper and more complex than sharing a bed. It was a feeling that defied explanation but strayed far from mere physical desire.

In their past life, they had skipped over all the tender, ambiguous stages—no silent, mutual hand-holding, no willing embraces.

Li Rong had agreed to their unconventional relationship purely because Cen Xiao could help him enter Hongsuo.

And entering Hongsuo was non-negotiable for him.

He had spent four years in college, published several first-author papers, and passed Hongsuo Research Institute’s entrance exam with the highest score. But due to his parents’ scandal, his eligibility was revoked.

Others could contest the publicized list, file appeals, seek media assistance, and demand a fair explanation from Hongsuo. But he couldn’t.

For him, the admissions office had unanimously rejected his application.

No media or public would support the son of Li Qingli and Gu Nong. They wouldn’t question Hongsuo’s decision—they would applaud it, wishing for him to carry his parents’ infamy and bear all the malice in the world.

With no alternatives, he had turned to Cen Xiao, handing over the reins of his fate.

Under pressure from Blue Pivot, it was eventually discovered that his disqualification had been orchestrated by another candidate’s family. The official reasons stated in Hongsuo’s email were mere pretense, masking private interests.

That candidate’s family never expected the disgraced and ostracized Li Rong to still have ties to the United Commerce Association.

In the end, the candidate lost everything—money, reputation—and gave Blue Pivot leverage over Hongsuo. The admissions office underwent a complete overhaul, with several senior staff dismissed.

Cen Xiao earned considerable credit for this, boosting his prestige in District Three.

Back then, things were very different from now.

Now, they were like two reckless kids, sneaking in moments of intimacy in the school building of a place that strictly prohibited relationships.

Such behavior was entirely unlike Li Rong’s usual demeanor and went against Cen Xiao’s typically obsessive nature.

Yet Li Rong didn’t find it unpleasant. Contradictions and reasonability often existed on a thin line. At the very least, Cen Xiao’s hand was genuinely warm.

When they reached the classroom door, though, Li Rong quickly pulled his hand away, shoving it into his pocket as if nothing had happened.

Cen Xiao, sharing an unspoken understanding, gave no reaction either.

Li Rong pushed open the back door of the classroom and walked to his seat quietly. Cen Xiao followed a meter or so behind, his expression neutral.

The sight of them entering one after the other drew the entire class’s attention. Even the physics teacher couldn’t help but follow their movements with his gaze.

As soon as Li Rong returned to his seat, he lazily slouched over his desk. The physics teacher, knowing he had just aced the exam, didn’t bother to reprimand him. Clearing his throat, he resumed the lecture.

While the top-ranked student lazed like a slacker, the one at the bottom of the class picked up a test paper, pretending to study.

Leaning back against his chair, Cen Xiao pressed the paper neatly against the edge of his desk, feigning focus. In reality, his mind replayed the walk down the hallway over and over.

Li Rong’s hand was cold but soft, clearly untouched by physical labor—a product of a pampered upbringing. It was nothing like his own, where thin calluses from handling firearms lined his thumb and palm.

When he tightened his grip, Li Rong didn’t resist. That lack of resistance made the short walk feel oddly unique. The air seemed to slow and soften, and though he wasn’t one for introspection, Cen Xiao found himself savoring those fleeting moments.

It was a wholly unfamiliar experience, an unexpected delight born from chaos, deviation, transgression, and coincidence—something entirely outside the bounds of his planned trajectory.

Jian Fu hunched over, stealing a glance at Cen Xiao. Seeing how intently Cen Xiao was staring at the paper, Jian Fu grinned, then turned away. He snapped his fingers behind his back, hoping the teacher wouldn’t notice.

The physics teacher spun around sharply, eyebrows raised as he scanned the classroom. “Who’s messing around?”

Jian Fu shrank into himself, nearly burying his face in his paper, saying nothing.

No one in the class was bold enough to snitch on Jian Fu, not even the students from the Hongsuo side—they weren’t ones to stir up trouble needlessly.

When the teacher couldn’t pinpoint the culprit, he shot a glare across the room before turning back to the blackboard to continue writing out solutions.

Cen Xiao, hearing the commotion, snapped out of his thoughts. He glanced forward, then picked up his phone to check the private message Jian Fu had sent him.

[Jian Fu: Want to go out for lunch? Someone just sent my dad a freshly caught bluefin tuna. They say it’s super tender.]

Cen Xiao’s gaze flicked briefly to Li Rong’s thin profile. After a moment’s pause, he typed a response with one hand.

[Cen Xiao: Eating at the cafeteria.]

[Jian Fu: ??? Do you even know what bluefin tuna is? It’s the crazy expensive, super tender kind that costs thousands per kilogram. We’re lucky to eat it once or twice a year.]

Though both Jian Fu and Cen Xiao came from affluent families, life at the top wasn’t always indulgent. The higher their parents’ positions in the United Commerce Association, the more cautious they had to be—one misstep could attract the wolves of District Nine.

In comparison, the Song family, as pure merchants, lived far more comfortably.

[Cen Xiao: The cafeteria is fine.]

[Jian Fu: Are you talking about the cafeteria we eat at twice a day? The one that hangs steamed watermelon eggs as its signature dish? The nationally ranked cafeteria at A High that strictly enforces clean plates and scolds you for leaving a single cucumber shred?]

[Cen Xiao: Yes.]

[Jian Fu: QAQ You’re ruthless.]

Li Rong lifted his eyelids and lazily asked, “What are you talking about with Jian Fu?”

“Nothing,” Cen Xiao replied.

Yawning, Li Rong murmured, “Our school supposedly has five cafeterias. I heard they’re nationally ranked—must be pretty good.”

Cen Xiao chuckled softly but didn’t shatter his illusion.

When lunch break came, before Li Rong could stand, Lin Zhen approached with a notebook of incorrect answers.

With Cen Xiao nearby, Lin Zhen spoke to Li Rong cautiously. He wasn’t sure why, but as an art student, his sensitivity made him feel that Cen Xiao disliked seeing him get too close to Li Rong.

Lin Zhen placed the notebook on Li Rong’s desk corner, nervously biting his lip. Bending slightly, he pointed at the notes with a finger. “Class monitor, can you explain this step to me?”

Li Rong glanced at the notebook.

“Didn’t the teacher just go over this?”

Lin Zhen’s cheeks flushed immediately. The teacher had just explained it—twice, in fact. Afterward, the teacher had even asked if everyone understood, but the class remained silent. Lin Zhen hadn’t dared to speak up, afraid of wasting everyone’s time.

But how had Li Rong, who had been dozing off, even known the teacher had explained it?

Leaning forward, Li Rong propped his left hand on the desk while his right hand held a pen. He tapped on Lin Zhen’s notebook. “I’ll write it down.”

Lin Zhen swallowed nervously, about to agree, but Li Rong had already started. It seemed his words weren’t a request but merely a casual notification.

“The rod rotates at a low angular velocity and collides with point B, so… Another scenario: if the angular velocity is high, they collide after one full rotation. Here’s how…”

He redrew the diagrams and explained the two cases in detail. Worried that Lin Zhen still wouldn’t grasp the underlying physics, he even wrote out a problem-solving framework for this type of question.

Having taught university students before, Li Rong found sharing knowledge relatively easy. He understood that talent varied, and some people struggled not because they weren’t diligent but because they lacked aptitude.

His notes sprawled messily across the page, circling the problem in every direction, complete with sketches and annotations. Yet his handwriting remained graceful and elegant, neat despite its scattered layout.

Li Rong held his pen lightly, gripping it near the top, so his strokes barely left indentations on the paper. Lin Zhen thought the casual elegance of his writing, paired with its faint pressure, was strikingly beautiful.

“No need to overthink it—just memorize it. My handwriting is a bit messy, so organize it later on your own.”

Li Rong put down the pen and casually capped it with one hand.

Jian Fu had been sitting astride the chair in the front row for ages. He waved his hand slowly in front of Cen Xiao’s face, fingers splayed. “Bro, what are you waiting for? If we don’t go soon, all the good food in the cafeteria will be gone.”

Truthfully, Jian Fu still wanted to eat that tuna, but his dad had promised to save him some since the fish was quite large.

Cen Xiao leisurely took a sip of water, his expression unruffled. “Waiting for Teacher Li to enlighten his student.”

Jian Fu widened his eyes. “Oh-ho, are we eating with him? Wait a minute, the great panda isn’t dining on premium bamboo this winter but plans to break bread with the commoners?”

Li Rong smiled faintly. “In the dead of winter, life tends to be a bit austere.”

Jian Fu’s mouth twisted in dismay. Dead of winter? Li Rong drinks jade fish soup, while Cen Xiao and I eat fried rice.

Lin Zhen suddenly realized that Li Rong, Cen Xiao, and Jian Fu were all waiting for him!

A wave of surprise and fluster washed over him. “I’ve kept you from eating! You should go. I’ll stay back and review this.”

Lin Zhen clutched his notebook and was about to sneak away when Li Rong suddenly called out to him, his tone unexpectedly serious.

“Lin Zhen.” Li Rong’s smile faded, replaced with a calm but commanding aura in his icy eyes. “If you don’t understand something in the future, just ask the teacher directly. Don’t worry about people causing you trouble behind your back—you’re one of us.”

Lin Zhen froze, gripping the notebook tightly. His fingernails pressed into the leather cover, leaving faint imprints.

“One of… you?”

He repeated the words softly, a strange sense of gratitude swelling within him. In the two years since being specially recruited to A High, Lin Zhen had never felt a sense of belonging to this class.

He’d always thought he just had to endure three years, after which he’d never cross paths with these people again.

For the first time, someone had claimed him as one of their own.

Jian Fu banged on the desk in mock protest. “Hey, Li Rong, when did I end up on your side? We’re from Blue Pivot, and you’re from Hongsuo. Sure, they kicked you out, but don’t forget our old grudges.”

Li Rong smirked. “Cen Xiao and I are on the same side. You want out?”

Jian Fu: “…” Screw you.

Cen Xiao tapped his finger on the desk. “Let’s eat.”

And just like that, Lin Zhen found himself swept into the cafeteria squad, not entirely sure how it happened.

He’d never imagined that going to the cafeteria could feel like a ceremonious event.

Jian Fu picked the priciest of the five cafeterias. Known for its good flavors, this one was outsourced to A City restaurants as a promotional venture. They offered a small selection of dishes at reduced prices compared to their regular menu. The savings were considered a marketing cost for the restaurants.

At the cafeteria entrance, Cen Xiao paused slightly. Without looking directly at Li Rong, he said in a low voice, “The cafeteria is crowded.”

The implication was clear: their group eating together in public would signal something—something risky and fraught with potential repercussions.

He’d always tried to avoid such scenarios. Despite careful planning, one misstep could unravel all his efforts. Yet, he didn’t stop Li Rong from doing as he pleased.

The comment was cryptic, almost like an idle observation.

But Li Rong seemed to understand. He smiled nonchalantly. “Ah, then so be it.”

Jian Fu muttered like he was solving a reading comprehension question. “What the h*ll are you two talking about? Hey, did you get it?” He poked Lin Zhen’s shoulder.

Lin Zhen straightened up abruptly and shook his head quickly. “I don’t understand.”

Jian Fu scoffed, looking Lin Zhen up and down. “You don’t understand, but you had that pensive look like you did. I thought I was the only one lost here. D*mn.”

Lin Zhen mumbled softly, “I don’t need to understand. I trust the class monitor.”

Jian Fu rolled his eyes, withdrawing his gaze. Even in Li Rong’s current state, he still had loyal followers. Amazing.

“Trust? This isn’t about trust. Cafeterias are just crowded places.”

As soon as they entered the cafeteria, all eyes turned toward them.

“Look, look! Cen Xiao and Li Rong are eating together.”

“What’s going on today? Are Hongsuo and Blue Pivot merging?”

“Li Rong doesn’t represent Hongsuo anymore, right? He’s been excluded by that group in his class. Rumor has it he switched sides to Cen Xiao ages ago.”

“Since when? I never heard of it. Weren’t they on bad terms before?”

“I heard they stirred up trouble at Song Yuanyuan’s coming-of-age party. Not sure about the details, but the Song family was embarrassed enough to suppress the news.”

…

Although the buzz around Li Qingli and Gu Nong had faded, Li Rong’s sensitive status still drew attention. He didn’t wander around aimlessly. Instead, he looked at the cafeteria’s posted menu from afar, tugged Cen Xiao’s arm gently, and gestured with a slight tilt of his chin. “Get me stir-fried rice noodles and a steamed egg custard.”

Lin Zhen immediately stood up, fumbling for his meal card. “I’ll go, I’ll go! You all sit and relax.”

Cen Xiao frowned, giving him a frosty glance. “Did I say you could?”

Lin Zhen froze in confusion. “???”

Jian Fu’s lips twitched. “Bro…”