The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 29

Kuai Yue Yuzhou was a well-known media outlet in Yuzhou. However, a deeper investigation revealed that it wasn’t officially affiliated with any state-owned news agencies. Instead, it belonged to a company called Fengguang Culture.

This Fengguang Culture was funded and established by Liu Tanzhi. Under its umbrella were not just Kuai Yue Yuzhou but also Lang Tao Xiao Sha, Tan Hua Shu, and several other media accounts, big and small. Each of these outlets claimed to be mainstream media supported by the authorities, yet none of their names could be found on official government websites.

Ordinarily, no one would bother verifying the credentials of such minor outlets. What was odd, however, was that they had been falsely waving the flag of officialdom for five or six years without ever being ordered to rectify it.

A search of these accounts’ published content revealed their close ties to the numerous accusations against Li Qingli and Gu Nong.

In fact, the rumor that “Li Qingli lives in a mansion and drives luxury cars” originated from Lang Tao Xiao Sha.

The accompanying photo of the “mansion” showed only a small corner of a house, with no clear view of the full property. The “luxury car” was actually an exhibit at an automobile museum near the Hongsuo Research Institute—a vintage model produced by a globally renowned car manufacturer over a century ago.

This car, celebrated for its iconic design, was displayed in the museum’s most prominent position. It was this very model that catapulted the brand to global fame as a symbol of status and prestige. Li Qingli, who admired it during his visit, took a photo beside it. The information placard, clearly visible behind him, explicitly stated: “Not for Sale.”

Anyone familiar with the museum or the brand would know that it was impossible for Li Qingli to own this car.

Yet, the power of rumors is immeasurable. No one cared about the authenticity of the images. Since the moment Li Qingli and Gu Nong’s alleged guilt and subsequent suicides hit the headlines, every scrap of sensationalism became fodder to cement their reputations as hypocrites.

Li Qingli suspected of academic misconduct, his “reputable scientist” persona collapses

Li Qingli’s complicated personal life: Who is this woman?

Insider reveals that under Gu Nong, students couldn’t graduate without bribery

Li family medical company exposed for quality issues, facing mass hospital returns

Li Qingli’s new drug “Lu Yin Xu” halted by authorities during Phase I trials for unknown reasons

…

Some of these rumors were ones Li Rong hadn’t even seen before.

Not all these stories came from Fengguang Culture, but the company played a significant role in fueling the spread of misinformation.

Every media account under its wing boasted “official endorsements” and years of cultivated credibility with large followings. Even the relatively smaller Kuai Yue Yuzhou was impactful enough for its interviews to be played in the cafeteria at A University.

Jian Fu, having read through all the news articles, inhaled sharply. He was so shaken he forgot about the hotpot entirely.

Looking between his phone and Li Rong’s expressionless face, Jian Fu sighed, “They’re ruthless. Was this premeditated or just for clout?”

In any public controversy, countless media outlets swoop in like vultures, fabricating lies, stoking emotions, and profiting amid the chaos before retreating to await their next opportunity.

This phenomenon wasn’t new to them and certainly wouldn’t be the last time they’d see it.

Li Rong kept scrolling through photos on his phone, his gaze lowered, lips pressed tight. He stayed silent the entire time.

The server came by seven or eight times to refill the broth. Steam billowed from the pot, and its contents bubbled away, yet the slices of beef and tofu in Li Rong’s bowl had long gone cold.

Cen Xiao calmly said, “If the only connection is that the funder is an ordinary employee at A University, it’s likely just a ploy for clout and traffic.”

After all, an employee had no real link to Li Qingli or Gu Nong, nor any personal grievances. It was just another profit-driven, morally dubious act.

But learning that her husband was Li Qingli’s colleague made the situation far more delicate.

Jian Fu swallowed hard, feeling an indescribable heaviness after piecing it all together. Frowning, he asked, “Is this Li Baishou even that famous? I’ve never heard of him. Even if he held a grudge against Li Qingli, would he really kick him while he’s down like this?”

There were even a few rumors Jian Fu had initially believed himself.

If he hadn’t found the sources of the news—especially the photo of the “luxury car” and his familiarity with the museum—he wouldn’t have realized how absurd it all was. This revelation made him question the validity of every other rumor.

But when the events first unfolded, it had been nearly impossible to discern truth from fiction. Even the museum’s 500-yuan entrance fee had deterred most ordinary people, and those who had visited and remembered that car were even fewer.

Li Rong exhaled slowly, put down his phone, and after a pause, finally spoke seriously: “Li Baishou isn’t famous now. I only know he’s one of my dad’s colleagues.”

But later, Li Baishou, who stole Li Qingli’s research results, became very famous.

If the timeline remained unchanged, there were fewer than six months before Li Baishou would present his fraudulent hypothesis and rise to fame.

Jian Fu looked at Li Rong, then glanced at Cen Xiao, feeling increasingly frustrated.

“D*mn it, you two are so calm while I’m over here seething. Am I the only one who can’t handle this?”

Jian Fu thought that if his own parents had been the targets and he had accidentally discovered the culprits behind such slander, he’d have gone ballistic, possibly even resorting to violence. It would be all or nothing—fish dead, net broken. He wouldn’t care about his own survival.

Li Rong asked, “Have you read Malice?”

Jian Fu pouted, then shook his head. “Books? I don’t like reading. They just make me sleepy.”

Cen Xiao lifted his eyelids and exchanged a glance with Li Rong, his tone indifferent. “Jealousy can be terrifying. Who wouldn’t envy Li Qingli?”

Li Rong heard this and gave a bitter smile.

In his eyes, his father was far from perfect.

Li Qingli was tone-deaf. He couldn’t even tell, yet he loved singing. In his younger days, he even dreamed of becoming a music composer. The melodies he wrote were bafflingly awful, but Gu Nong always humored him, clapping warmly and laughing after every attempt.

Gu Nong, in fact, was a seasoned musical theater enthusiast with impeccable taste. If she hadn’t continually encouraged him, Li Rong believed he could’ve avoided hearing many of his father’s peculiar songs.

Li Qingli was also particularly sentimental, like an unscathed child untouched by reality.

He’d tear up watching family reunion shows, quietly wipe away tears after seeing disasters, and sigh deeply at stories of people unable to afford medical care, secretly donating large sums behind Gu Nong’s back. He was so easily moved.

By comparison, Li Rong considered himself cold-hearted. He could never empathize with the world like his father, nor could he unconditionally support someone like his mother.

There would never be anyone like his parents again.

Li Rong was still lost in his memories when he suddenly felt warmth on his lips. Coming back to his senses, he lowered his gaze and saw Cen Xiao holding a spoonful of freshly cooked sweet potato near his mouth.

Li Rong hesitated, his eyelids trembling, then reached up to lightly grasp Cen Xiao’s wrist and took the warm slice into his mouth.

The sweet potato was soft and sweet, with a slight tang from the tomato broth. It had been a long time since he’d had sweet potato, and he found it particularly flavorful.

“When did you cook this?”

“Just now,” Cen Xiao replied, his gaze fixed on Li Rong’s flushed lips. Despite such a small piece of sweet potato, Li Rong still ate elegantly, holding his hand and eating slowly.

Jian Fu’s chopsticks almost fell into the hot pot.

He stared at his brother feeding Li Rong, sensing that something felt off. Yet the action seemed so natural and unpretentious that he doubted his own overthinking.

After Li Rong finished eating, he released Cen Xiao’s wrist and licked his lips. “It’s quite tasty.”

Cen Xiao raised a brow. “Really? Let me try.”

He picked another slice from the pot, added some broth, and brought the spoon to his mouth, eating it nonchalantly.

It was the same spoon Li Rong had just touched with his lips.

Jian Fu scratched his ear awkwardly, then turned to look out the window, mumbling, “So, what’s your plan? Even if you go after this guy, it’s hard to drag Li Baishou down. After all, he and his wife are technically separate entities.”

Li Rong chuckled lightly. “No rush.”

Cen Xiao added, “It’s not just about jealousy.”

Jian Fu looked more puzzled. “Are you two talking in code? It’s obvious the guy’s at fault. Just sue him for defamation and send a complaint to the head of Hongsuo Research Institute. Maybe you can clear your parents’ names.”

Cen Xiao shot Jian Fu a sidelong glance. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s figured this out? That others wouldn’t know?”

Jian Fu was momentarily stumped, suddenly realizing his own information came from District One. Surely others who handled it must’ve also linked it to Li Baishou.

He mumbled, “People in District One must know too.”

Li Rong always thought of Cen Xiao as unfathomable, but even he was surprised by his foresight.

So Cen Xiao had already deduced that the obstacles weren’t limited to Li Baishou.

Having lived through his previous life for six years, Li Rong gradually realized that despite the obvious flaws in the case, no one at Hongsuo Research Institute ever brought it up again. Even Blue Pivot didn’t use it as leverage to threaten Hongsuo, leading him to suspect that no one wanted his parents’ case to resurface.

On this matter, Hongsuo and Blue Pivot had reached an unprecedented tacit agreement.

Li Baishou alone wouldn’t have had that kind of power. Not even ten of him could rival the importance of Li Qingli and Gu Nong to the institute.

A waiter approached their table, politely informing them, “Dear guests, do you need to add anything? Our kitchen is closing in five minutes.”

Jian Fu glanced at the time and exclaimed, “What? It’s already ten o’clock!”

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed while reading the news.

Cen Xiao replied, “No, we’re done. We’ll finish up and leave.”

The waiter nodded and walked away.

The hotpot, though delicious, remained mostly untouched due to the heavy atmosphere brought on by Jian Fu’s news. Half of their dishes were left, so Cen Xiao arranged for them to be packed and handed the leftovers to Jian Fu.

After all, Jian Fu still cooked at home, while Li Rong and Cen Xiao were regulars in the takeout scene.

Cen Xiao first dropped Li Rong off at his building. As Li Rong was about to get out of the car, Cen Xiao asked, “Do you want to stay in a hotel?”

After all, there had been a violent incident at his home, which might feel ominous.

Li Rong shook his head. “I’m too tired to bother.”

Jian Fu sighed in agreement. “Same here. I’m dead tired. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

Li Rong turned back with a smile, casually reminding him, “I’m moving dorms tomorrow. Be there, won’t you?”

Jian Fu: “…”

At 11 p.m., the streets were silent. The shadows of trees cast intricate patterns on the ground, like a forest of brambles with sharp gray-black thorns.

Cen Xiao parked the car in the garage and walked into his house.

As he entered, he was greeted by the sight of the housekeeper chasing a blue-golden chinchilla up and down the stairs.

Recently pampered by Xiao Muran, the cat’s fur shone with vitality, and its eyes gleamed like jewels. Its aristocratic demeanor was befitting of its pedigree.

The cat stretched its peach-shaped blue eyes lazily, letting out a soft whimper before leaping nimbly onto the stair railing.

The housekeeper sighed. “Little ancestor, stop running around.”

Perched on the railing, Little Wu sat upright with its front paws together and craned its neck to look at Cen Xiao, its tail swaying languidly.

Cen Xiao extended his hand from the stairs and lightly pressed the cat’s forehead. Little Wu squinted its eyes and shrank its neck but didn’t run away. Instead, it opened its eyes again and tilted its head to study Cen Xiao.

It really was starting to resemble someone more and more.

The housekeeper hurriedly vented her frustrations to Cen Xiao. “Ever since Madam left, it hasn’t eaten a thing. No matter how I chase it to feed it, it won’t eat. I can’t catch it, and it’s not close to me. Usually, only Madam can hold it.”

It was only then that Cen Xiao noticed Xiao Muran wasn’t home. However, the light in the study on the second floor was unexpectedly on.

“Where’s my mom gone?” he asked.

The housekeeper quickly replied, “She said there’s a very popular band performing a concert in a neighboring city. Madam went to see it.”

Cen Xiao nodded.

For years, apart from throwing herself into work, his mother’s only passion had been attending concerts.

So, his father had come home today because his mother wasn’t around.

Glancing at the hungry cat, Cen Xiao walked over to the snack box, pulled out a bag of sauced small fish, tore it open, and returned to the stairs to feed it to the cat.

Little Wu squinted at him, its white whiskers twitching. After a moment, it lazily opened its mouth and carefully took the snack.

The housekeeper was astonished. “It actually didn’t avoid you!”

Watching the cat turn its back to him, arch its soft spine, and lower its head to eat the fish one bite at a time, Cen Xiao replied indifferently, “If you’re good to it, it’ll be good to you.”

The housekeeper didn’t argue, though she felt she was already pretty good to the cat.

Just as Cen Xiao was about to return to his room, the door to the study opened. Cen Qing stood at the threshold, frowning. “Why are you getting home so late?”

Cen Xiao let out a faint scoff. “Are you only starting to worry about my late-night returns now that I’m almost an adult?”

The muscles on Cen Qing’s face twitched as he found himself momentarily speechless.

Cen Xiao, free of childish tantrums, stood upright with one hand in his pocket. “Is there something you need?”

Cen Qing took a deep breath, casting a glance at the cat that had been running around the house all day. Finally, he asked pointedly, “Your antics with Li Rong are the talk of the entire business association. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from the Li family?”

Cen Xiao smirked, his tone nonchalant. “Maybe you should say that to my mom first?”

Cen Qing fell silent again.

If he had been able to make Xiao Muran distance herself from the Lis, their family wouldn’t be in this situation.

Cen Xiao glanced down at his fingers, now sticky with sauce, and said politely, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going to my room.”

Seeing his indifferent attitude, Cen Qing suddenly raised his voice. “What exactly is your stance on Li Rong? Do you hate him or want to help him?”

Cen Xiao paused, lifting his eyes slowly to stare at Cen Qing with interest. “I’m curious too. What’s your stance on Li Qingli? Are you on his side or against him?”

Cen Qing swallowed, his slightly drooping eyelids twitching, but he didn’t answer.

Cen Xiao was like an impenetrable wall—calm, steady, and inscrutable.

Cen Qing could no longer read his son’s true intentions.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. You’ll understand the balance of power and necessity when you’re more mature. Since you’ve agreed to take the District Nine exam, remember that it’s far harder than District Three’s. With your college entrance exams coming up, you won’t have time. Start with an internship in District Three during your first year of college. I’ve arranged special training for you, aiming for you to pass District Nine’s exam by your sophomore year.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Cen Xiao dismissed the carefully planned arrangement without hesitation. “Yang Fenfang probably didn’t inform you—I’ve already applied for a student certificate from A High and mailed it to the District Nine recruitment team.”

District Nine exams had no age restriction. Anyone over eighteen could apply.

Cen Qing frowned. “Are you joking? A high school graduate taking the District Nine exam? Do you think it’s a game? Do you know how many students from A University fail each year, or how many seasoned District Eight employees are rejected? If District Nine were so easy to enter, the Ghost Eye group wouldn’t be such a headache.”

Cen Xiao smirked and replied lightly, “For me, it is a game.”