The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 35

Cen Xiao eventually steered the car out of the congested alley and onto a quieter road, pulling up in front of a government office building.

Li Rong, not wanting to risk dripping sauce on his clothes, refused to eat in the car. Once parked, he opened the door, hunched over, and methodically unwrapped the food to take a bite.

The weather wasn’t warm, and eating outside like this wasn’t ideal, but hunger left him no choice.

Cen Xiao, holding his own bun nearby, watched silently. He wasn’t fond of such flour-based snacks, especially without chili. 

But seeing Li Rong eat with such relish, he suddenly felt a flicker of appetite.

Quietly, he unwrapped his bun and took a bite.

How much must one care about another to change even their eating habits for them?

In early November, Li Rong wandered through A University’s fountain plaza again, this time wearing a blue scarf.

The weather hadn’t turned fully cold yet, and the plaza remained bustling with people walking their dogs, enjoying the collegiate atmosphere.

A tour guide with a small loudspeaker on their waist was explaining to a group of elderly tourists and young families with children.

“This way, everyone. We’re standing in the renowned A University, a prestigious institution with a history spanning over a century…”

“You’ll have 30 minutes to take pictures. Please be mindful not to disrupt student activities.”

Coincidentally, a book exchange event was happening on the plaza today. Stalls stretched from the dining hall entrance to the fountain, and students browsed through the selections, swapping books they brought for those they liked.

Li Rong remembered attending such an event in elementary school, accompanied by Gu Nong.

Back then, he brought an old, heavily annotated children’s edition of Zizhi Tongjian. After visiting seven different stalls, he ended up trading it for a pristine first-edition set of Penguin Classics.

The difference in the two books’ value was worlds apart. He proudly carried the set to Li Qingli’s office, placed it on the desk, and raised his chin, showing off his achievement.

Even Li Qingli couldn’t help but marvel. While it wasn’t uncommon for people to find valuable collectible books at such events, it usually took a whole day of searching and haggling with vendors.

No one had ever managed to exchange for something so valuable in just one morning.

Carefully flipping through a few pages, Li Qingli confirmed the books were genuine first editions, exceptionally well-preserved, and brought from overseas at a steep original price.

When Li Rong went downstairs to buy fresh orange juice, Li Qingli couldn’t help but ask Gu Nong, “Did you secretly buy these, knowing I’d like them?”

Gu Nong smiled mysteriously and shook her head. “Not at all. Your son traded for them all by himself. He spotted that set early on, asked the vendor what books they liked, then went around other stalls finding trades. Step by step, he worked his way to it, finally using The Three Hundred Tang Poems for the final exchange.”

Li Qingli ran a hand over the book’s cover and sighed, “The set is so valuable. Someone must have had their eye on it. I can’t imagine why the vendor waited the whole morning for him. Was the vendor one of your students?”

Gu Nong, amused by his rare perplexity, replied cheerfully, “Not one of mine or yours. The vendor’s from the Social Sciences Academy and usually takes classes at the south campus. We’ve never even met them. Guess why they traded with him?”

Li Qingli frowned in deep thought, then earnestly asked, “Was my son just lucky?”

Gu Nong laughed heartily, reached out to ruffle his face, and said, “The young woman told me she’d have traded for The Three Hundred Tang Poems from the start. She just wanted to tease him a bit, making him run around for fun. No other reason—she simply thought he was cute.”

At that time, Li Rong hadn’t grown into his features yet. His cheeks were round, his budding almond-shaped eyes were bright and large, and his face turned rosy in the crisp autumn wind—a picture of delicate beauty.

Li Qingli: “…”

This reasoning was hard to grasp. He had genuinely thought his son had mastered some advanced psychological tactics.

Gu Nong said, “You know, I’m quite pleased. At least it shows our son’s default settings aren’t bad.”

At the office door, sipping orange juice and eavesdropping, Li Rong wasn’t particularly happy.

He had always thought his achievement was the result of wisdom and hard work, only to find out it was due to his looks.

Watching the noisy crowd and recalling the youthful faces that had become blurry over time, he couldn’t help but curve his eyes in a soft smile.

Time truly is the most powerful filter. What he once considered the most frustrating moment in his life now seemed beautiful in every frame when he looked back on it.

He turned his face, adjusted his emotions, and stepped toward a familiar stall.

The cart was still piled high with scarves, hats, and gloves. The auntie had even put on one of her handmade hats to shield herself from the northern wind. She stretched her hands and feet while turning her back to the gusts.

A small speaker hanging on the side of the car replaced her voice, repeatedly announcing, “Scarves, gloves, hats—practical and affordable!”

Li Rong smiled gently and called, “Auntie.”

“My last name is Xu. You can call me Xu Tanghui,” she replied, spotting him. She immediately rubbed her hands together, pulling a phone from inside her thick cotton coat. Removing a glove, she tapped the screen and showed him a photo. “The email wouldn’t download, so I took a picture of it. It’s the review feedback—you can rest easy now.”

A University is a key contributor to many international journals. Manuscripts sent through the university’s dedicated email system, accessed via its private intranet, are given priority for review. However, A University places great emphasis on confidentiality. To prevent research leaks, contributors must log in with faculty account credentials to send or receive emails from the dedicated system.

Additionally, downloading and sharing emails requires joint approval from the Honguo Research Institute and A University’s administrative office.

The reviewers gave high praise to the manuscript Li Rong submitted. While there were only minor details to revise, some questions required detailed answers. Judging by their tone, once addressed, the paper was essentially guaranteed to pass and be scheduled for publication.

Li Rong let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Aunt Hui. Has anyone noticed you?”

Xu Tanghui shook her head with a smile. “I’ve been buying things here for ten years and going to the library regularly. The old staff have all received my gloves as gifts, and they’re used to seeing me around. They don’t even stop me anymore. Besides, no one is paying attention to Teacher Li’s account now.”

After all, who would suspect that a deceased person could still be submitting papers?

Li Rong nodded. “Thank you for your trouble. I’ll come back after I finish writing.”

“Wait a moment,” Xu Tanghui called out, rummaging through her dark blue waist bag. She pulled out a beautifully embroidered talisman and pressed it into Li Rong’s hands. “You told me that Teacher Li’s password—1117—is your birthday, right? It’s just a few days away. I didn’t know what to get you, so I made you this talisman and had it blessed at the temple. No matter what happens in the future, you must live well.”

Li Rong’s fingers brushed over the fine embroidery of the talisman, his eyelashes trembling slightly as a surge of bittersweet emotion welled up in his chest.

“I… had forgotten.”

He once thought birthdays were deeply meaningful. Gu Nong would bake him a cake personally, and Li Qingli would take him out for photos.

He had an entire album documenting every year of his life from birth to age 17. That album was forever frozen at 17. Since then, he no longer anticipated his birthdays—

***

Cen Xiao pressed the blade against the burly man’s artery. The man held his breath, his pupils constricting. After a tense pause, he suddenly raised his right arm to counterattack. But before he could act, Cen Xiao pushed the blade another inch inward and deftly snatched a blue slip of paper from the man’s pocket with his left hand.

Realizing he had lost the slip, the man immediately relaxed, raising his hands to signal surrender.

Cen Xiao withdrew the blade, stepped back, and flicked his wrist to fold the knife closed, tucking it into his palm.

The burly man, sweating profusely, grabbed a towel from the corner and roughly wiped the sweat from his neck. He laughed, “Hiding a blade, huh? Playing dirty.”

Cen Xiao casually folded the blue slip of paper and tossed it into the trash bin below the platform, smirking. “Didn’t you hide something too? I just drew my blade faster.”

The man was a training coach for Blue Pivot’s District 9 entrance exams. Over the years, he had helped more than 20 students pass the grueling tests. Almost everyone aspiring to join District 9 came to him for pre-exam evaluations.

If he deemed someone unqualified, they were typically advised to start preparing for the next year’s exam.

The coach unscrewed a bottle of water, guzzled it down, and let out a long sigh. “You’re right. District 9’s motto is all about achieving the goal by any means necessary. Candidates with too strong a moral compass often lose out. It seems President Cen has taught you well.”

Cen Xiao didn’t refute this. He accepted his outer coat from a staff member, placed the unsharpened knife deliberately on the ground, and walked toward the shower room.

The coach plopped onto the ground, panting heavily, and shouted at Cen Xiao’s retreating figure, “Hey, don’t you want to get those injuries looked at?”

Cen Xiao replied flatly, “Take care of yourself first.”

The coach clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath, “Young, but really knows how to endure pain.”

Once Cen Xiao left the training hall and closed the door, the coach’s casual demeanor disappeared. He motioned for his assistant and whispered instructions into their ear.

***

Cen Xiao entered the shower room and began removing his training gear. Even this simple action caused him to break out in a cold sweat from the pain.

He glanced at the large mirror, which reflected the injuries covering his body.

The left side of his ribcage was already bruised from a heavy kick. Even breathing brought a persistent, dull ache.

Enduring the pain, he pressed gently on his ribs one by one. Fortunately, he had dodged in time. Otherwise, a hospital visit would have been inevitable.

In addition to the rib injury, his back bore numerous bruises from falls, and his left forearm had a scrape from the edge of the stage.

He turned on the hot water, letting it wash away the sweat and sting his tender wounds.

Afterward, Cen Xiao dressed, paid, and left the training ground.

Moments later, a physical analysis report from the session arrived in Cen Qing’s office.

Cen Qing waved his hand, signaling the secretary to leave, and unfolded the freshly printed report.

He read through it carefully, frowning deeply, confusion evident in his eyes.

The final assessment in the report concluded:

Fully qualified, with physical fitness scores surpassing 99% of candidates in the past decade.

Cen Qing murmured to himself, “How is that possible?”

He hadn’t yet arranged for professional training for Cen Xiao or familiarized him with the operational styles of the United Commerce’s various divisions.

If the evaluation was entirely accurate, and Cen Xiao’s academic performance was also exceptional, it meant he could potentially become the captain of a team under Ghost Eye in District Nine, ranking first among candidates.

Cen Qing’s expression darkened as he fed the evaluation report into the shredder.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Cen Xiao seemed even more eager to enter District Nine than he was.

***

Wednesday.

The experimental class had just finished an impromptu chemistry quiz. Early in the morning, the classroom was already filled with groans and sighs.

“Oh, I’m so sleepy. I almost nodded off halfway through answering.”

“This test was way too hard—completely beyond the scope of the college entrance exam.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just a pop quiz. I’m taking a nap now.”

“I actually think I did okay; it didn’t feel as hard as before.”

“Ah…you’ve been getting tutoring from the class monitor, right?”

…

Lin Zhen, pretending to fetch water, stopped by Jian Fu’s desk.

He asked discreetly, “The day after tomorrow is the class monitor’s birthday. What are you and… Cen Xiao planning to get him? Can I join in?”

Jian Fu looked baffled. “What birthday? How do you know that?”

Lin Zhen paused. 

As expected, there was no relying on Jian Fu to consider such details—it wasn’t his style.

Lin Zhen explained, “The middle four digits of our student ID numbers are our birthdays. The class monitor’s is 1117, Cen Xiao’s is 0412, and yours is 0607.”

Jian Fu’s mouth fell open in surprise. “You remembered that?”

Lin Zhen sighed and shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Jian Fu was still in disbelief. “You even remembered my birthday?”

He assumed Lin Zhen was closest to Li Rong and only cared about him because Li Rong had always been the one helping Lin Zhen.

Moreover, for his own birthdays, his family would book a hotel and throw him a party, inviting everyone he was close with. He would send out group notifications in advance, as none of his friends would remember each other’s birthdays without being told—it was just how things worked among them.

Lin Zhen nodded earnestly and said, “Friends should remember these things. I’ve already added it to my phone. I was planning to go to the pedestrian street during evening self-study today, but I’m not sure what the class monitor likes.”

Jian Fu found it rather amusing. Remembering someone’s birthday early, going out shopping specifically to prepare a surprise—wasn’t this the sort of thing girls usually did?

Or maybe artistic types were just different?

Jian Fu said, “Neither my brother nor I have a clue. How about you buy something for us too while you’re at it?”

“…Why don’t you go and pick something yourself?” Lin Zhen replied, clutching his cup and preparing to leave. He really shouldn’t have come to discuss this topic with Jian Fu.

Jian Fu quickly grabbed the zipper of Lin Zhen’s school jacket. As Lin Zhen was about to take a step, the zipper suddenly slid down with a snap, and the wide collar slipped off his shoulder.

Lin Zhen: “…”

If Jian Fu pulled any harder, he’d take the jacket clean off.

Resigned, Lin Zhen stepped back, shrugged his shoulders, and adjusted his clothing. “What is it now?”

Jian Fu grinned eagerly. “I’ll go with you. I didn’t want to attend evening self-study anyway.”

Unable to argue, Lin Zhen muttered under his breath, “I’m going to buy a gift, but you just want to skip class.”

***

That day, Li Rong was in a good mood, though it had nothing to do with his upcoming birthday.

He had stayed up all night revising his paper according to the feedback. This time, it was essentially good to go.

Resting his chin on his hand, Li Rong watched Lin Zhen and Jian Fu’s sneaky retreating figures and murmured, “When did Jian Fu get so close to Lin Zhen? They said they wouldn’t eat with us tonight.”

“Who knows?” Cen Xiao replied, his eyes lowering to glance at the chemistry test paper in front of him. He folded it casually and stuffed it into his desk drawer.

On the paper was a perfect score, personally marked by Yang Fenfang.

Since the last exam had placed him in the top ten of the grade, Cen Xiao no longer needed to hide his academic abilities. Most importantly, he had become Li Rong’s star pupil for earning extra cash. It wouldn’t do to ruin his reputation before Li Rong made a fortune.

Li Rong reached out to pat Cen Xiao’s arm. “Let’s go eat—”

Before he could finish, he clearly felt Cen Xiao’s muscles tense, his arm shrinking back slightly. The sudden clench of his teeth made his jaw tighten noticeably.

Li Rong frowned sharply, scanning Cen Xiao up and down. He withdrew his hand cautiously and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Cen Xiao moved his forearm slightly and said nonchalantly, “Nothing, just static electricity.”

Li Rong didn’t respond immediately. After a moment, he nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm, winter can be annoying that way.”

He didn’t press further, but it was obvious—Cen Xiao was injured.

The force of his pat wasn’t heavy, yet Cen Xiao’s reaction revealed significant pain. The injury must have been severe.

Last week, he’d been fine. How did he sustain such a serious injury over the weekend?

Who would dare attack the son of the Blue Pivot District 3 leader? And who could actually hurt him?

Li Rong’s mind recalled Yang Fenfang’s words:

“As the homeroom teacher, I know a bit. Cen Xiao wants to apply for District 9. Think about it.”

At the time, Li Rong had thought that Cen Xiao entering District 9 would certainly benefit him.

He was sure Cen Xiao knew this too.

But now, recalling those words, Li Rong’s first reaction was that the pre-exam training must have been grueling for Cen Xiao.