Although Cen Xiao didn’t explicitly say anything before leaving, from his expression, Li Rong knew that Cui Mingyang’s ambition of becoming class monitor had completely fallen apart.
Satisfied, Li Rong smiled faintly and stepped over Cui Mingyang on his way back to class.
In his previous life, he had been cold and aloof, often suffering for it. Stubbornly refusing to yield, he ended up scarred and filled with regret.
Now, he realized that pride was far less important than achieving his goals.
In this world, the least significant thing is the dignity of the downtrodden.
Cui Mingyang didn’t return for the second class.
Li Rong didn’t care. He entered the classroom, ignoring the noisy chatter around him, and rested his head on the desk, closing his eyes.
Eventually, someone couldn’t resist approaching him. In a soft voice, they asked, “Class Monitor, have you sorted out everything at home?”
Li Rong lazily lifted his gaze. He vaguely remembered this classmate’s name was Lin Zhen. With no significant family background, he was admitted as a talent in singing but had rarely interacted with him.
In his high school days, Li Rong had exclusively mingled with the offspring of Hongsuo, often maintaining a distant, unapproachable demeanor. Now, however, he greeted Lin Zhen with a warm smile and a gentle tone: “More or less. Thanks for asking.”
His smile was so tender that Lin Zhen froze for a moment, staring dumbly at him.
It was a widely acknowledged fact that Li Rong was handsome—a fact he never denied himself.
If not for his good looks, Cen Xiao wouldn’t have rebelled against his parents to have a relationship with him.
“Uh… no problem, no problem! By the way, do you need this week’s review materials? I can make a copy for you.”
Lin Zhen shyly scratched his head, his cheeks slightly flushed, though he wasn’t sure why they felt hot.
In class, he was one of the most inconspicuous students, never seen as important by anyone. The only reason he had come to ask Li Rong was because some of the Hongsuo second-generation rich kids who wanted to stir up trouble had pushed him into it. He didn’t dare refuse those classmates, so he had no choice but to grit his teeth and go through with it.
He thought Li Rong wouldn’t even bother to acknowledge him. To his surprise, Li Rong smiled so beautifully that a trace of gratitude welled up in Lin Zhen’s heart.
Li Rong spoke gently, pointing at his highly esteemed desk mate: “No need, I’ll just ask Cen Xiao.”
“Cen… Brother Cen?”
Lin Zhen thought either he was hearing things or Li Rong had lost his mind.
Leaving aside the conflicting relationship between the Honsuo and Blue Pivot United Commerce Association, when had anyone ever heard of the top-ranked student asking the last-ranked one for study materials?
Cen Xiao, who had been leisurely wiping his fingers with a wet wipe, paused his movements, glancing sidelong at Li Rong.
Li Rong, acting unusually, gave him a sweet smile. Cen Xiao noticed it but didn’t react much.
But that one sentence…
Cen Xiao tossed the wet wipe aside, turned slightly, and raised his gaze with some interest. “You’re asking me for study materials?”
Li Rong turned his head to meet Cen Xiao’s deep, unreadable black eyes. “You have them.”
His words weren’t a question but a statement.
If Li Rong didn’t remember Cen Xiao’s top-tier college entrance exam scores, or know that he had passed the united commerce association’s recruitment exam at just twenty years old, along with his meticulous mind and near-perfect façade, he might’ve believed the common assumption that Cen Xiao was just a carefree underachiever.
Cen Xiao looked into Li Rong’s captivating almond-shaped eyes, full of expression, but instead of answering directly, he countered with a meaningful question: “Does the class monitor need to study?”
Li Rong blinked, casually tucking the stray strands of hair behind his ear. His smile was fragile and innocent: “Not really.”
Cen Xiao didn’t say anything more, only tilted his chin slightly and let his gaze drop, scanning Li Rong with a bold, unrestrained look.
In the eyes of someone who should have been utterly broken, Cen Xiao saw a flickering vitality, vibrant, strange, beautiful, and impossibly alluring.
Seeing there was no room for him to speak, Lin Zhen awkwardly rubbed his nose and sensibly slipped away.
The chatter from the back rows grew louder.
“Is Li Rong acting a bit strange? Who’s ever seen him smile like that?”
“Hah, he probably knows he has no backing anymore and is starting to form alliances.”
“Exactly. All our parents told us to keep our distance from him. The Blue Pivot people like Cen Xiao look down on him even more. At this point, he’s just clutching at straws.”
The shrill sound of the class bell pierced through the classroom, silencing the discussions.
The physics teacher stormed in with a pile of assignments, his expression severe. “The results on yesterday’s test were abysmal! If you don’t improve by the first mock exam, forget about getting into A University—just prepare to repeat the year!”
The physics teacher stood at the podium, scanning the class until his gaze landed on Li Rong, who had returned.
Startled, the physics teacher lowered his voice. “I didn’t bring extra copies of the test. Cen Xiao, you’ll share yours with Li Rong.”
Cen Xiao didn’t object.
The class representative quickly distributed the test papers. When Li Rong glanced at Cen Xiao’s paper, he noticed it was mostly blank, save for the multiple-choice questions.
Li Rong chuckled softly to himself. This could come in handy later—something to tease him about.
The physics teacher emphasized, “This test is a collection of top-tier past high school exam questions. As I go over them, take notes on anything you don’t understand. I’ll be checking.”
Li Rong rested his left hand over his stomach, letting his right hand lay open on the desk, his head pillowed on top. He looked up at Cen Xiao. “I’m going to take a nap. Call me if anything comes up.”
Cen Xiao glanced at him briefly, then pressed his finger against the tender inner part of Li Rong’s left arm. “Get up. You’re correcting this.”
Li Rong sighed. “I’m really not feeling well.”
Half true and half exaggerated, his tone carried a hint of dramatization, but his body genuinely hadn’t fully recovered.
Raised in luxury by his parents and later by Cen Xiao, Li Rong’s delicate health left his stomach in a precarious state. It would take months to stabilize.
Cen Xiao smirked.
His fingers pressed further, brushing lightly against the warm fabric of Li Rong’s school uniform with a commanding undertone.
“Class monitor, can’t you see I’m bullying a classmate?”
Though spoken as a joke, Li Rong caught a glimpse of the future Cen Xiao in that moment—eyes obscured by an impenetrable fog, concealing his thoughts even in a smile.
Obsessive types really are consistent to the end.
Li Rong raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem angry. He lazily straightened up, grabbing his pen and turning to look at Cen Xiao. A faint smile played in his eyes. “Even bullies should choose wisely. Watch out for vengeful, ruthless little villains.”
As he spoke, he twirled the pen between his fingers, its tip aimed teasingly at Cen Xiao’s chest.
Cen Xiao caught the pen and pulled it from Li Rong’s fingers, flicking the button on the pen’s back with his index finger. The click echoed crisply.
“And yet, those same villains better watch out for me.”
Li Rong grinned, spreading his hands. “If you don’t give me the pen, how can I write?”
Cen Xiao felt the warmth lingering on the pen’s surface before placing it back into Li Rong’s palm, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of his hand in the process.
Li Rong flinched at the ticklish sensation, quickly clenching his fist.
Li Rong didn’t really remember much about what he learned in high school. Or rather, he had learned so much later on that he no longer bothered distinguishing which concepts were from high school and which were acquired later.
It had been a long time since he sat below a podium listening to someone else lecture. Most of the time, others were the ones taking notes from him.
Gripping his pen, he pulled over Cen Xiao’s test paper.
The material the teacher was covering was far too basic for him—of course, the same applied to Cen Xiao.
Cen Xiao insisted on having him correct the paper. If it was meant to bully him, it was also a way to test him: probing for the reason behind his change in demeanor, gauging how much the upheaval in his family had truly affected him.
But Li Rong didn’t care.
He briefly noted the key points for solving each problem on the paper, regardless of whether Cen Xiao had answered correctly or intentionally made mistakes.
Cen Xiao lowered his gaze, watching.
Li Rong’s hands were delicate and slender, without any excess flesh. When he gripped the pen, his bony knuckles turned slightly white, the skin tight over the joints. The movement of his hand revealed faint lines in the soft flesh between the bones.
There were still needle marks on the back of his hand, small red dots surrounded by bluish bruises. The nurse’s technique probably wasn’t great, as the bruising was extensive.
It was evident his health wasn’t good; he hadn’t fully recovered.
And yet, he could still easily bring down the physically robust Cui Mingyang in one move.
When Li Rong was fighting, his aura was intimidating. But Cen Xiao hadn’t missed the bead of sweat sliding down from Li Rong’s neck into the collar of his shirt.
Like a fragile glass doll—strong on the outside but hollow within.
By noon, when classes ended, Li Rong had already filled an entire test paper for Cen Xiao.
His handwriting, trained under Li Qingli’s strict supervision, was elegant and upright—a pleasure to look at. In contrast, Cen Xiao’s scrawls on the same paper paled in comparison.
Later, Li Rong learned that Cen Xiao could write in five completely different styles of handwriting, switching effortlessly when he didn’t want his writing recognized.
Quite abnormal.
To deal with this, Li Rong had idly memorized all five of Cen Xiao’s handwriting styles.
“Brother Xiao, let’s go eat,” Jian Fu said, pulling over the chair in front of Cen Xiao’s desk. Swinging his long legs over it, he sat backward and rested his elbows on the desk.
Jian Fu was a childhood friend of Cen Xiao, their parents both high-ranking officials in the United Commerce Association. Growing up together, he was the kind of person who looked down on the haughty researchers from Hongsuo.
In class, he had always disliked Li Rong the most, as if Li Rong were a 3D-printed model of what he imagined a Hongsuo scholar to be—intelligent, top of the class, aloof, and seemingly belonging to another species.
Jian Fu glanced at Li Rong. While he didn’t gloat over Li Rong’s family misfortune, he felt no sympathy either. In fact, he was curious to see what Li Rong looked like in decline.
Watching someone fall from grace was a universal pleasure.
Li Rong set down his pen, revealing a red mark on the inside of his middle finger from gripping it.
Then, clutching his stomach, he flopped weakly onto the desk.
Just as Cen Xiao was about to leave with Jian Fu, Li Rong called out feebly, “Cen Xiao.”
Cen Xiao froze mid-step.
Li Rong looked a bit pitiful, mumbling, “I helped you fill out an entire test paper. Get someone to bring me a jade fish soup. No oil, less salt.”
A High’s administration was strict; food from outside was generally not allowed in. But if anyone could make it happen, it was Cen Xiao.
Jian Fu thought he must have misheard. Without hesitation, he retorted, “Dream on. Jade fish soup? We’re just having boxed lunches! And anyway, do you think we’re close enough to bring you food?”
The jade fish soup from Furong Pavilion cost over 800 a bowl, something even they rarely ate.
Li Rong ignored Jian Fu and simply gazed at Cen Xiao. His eyelids drooped, deep creases forming where his lashes touched his skin. “My stomach hurts…”
He frowned, resting his chin on the desk as if enduring great pain.
Jian Fu laughed. “If your stomach hurts, go to the infirmary. What does that have to do with—”
“Order him a jade fish soup,” Cen Xiao interrupted calmly. “Tell them it’s for me. If anyone has a problem, they can take it up with Old Cen.”
Jian Fu: “???”
Cen Xiao glanced at Jian Fu. “Go order it. I need to have a word with him.”
Jian Fu: “…”
Realizing Cen Xiao wasn’t joking, Jian Fu reluctantly went to make the call.
Cen Xiao leaned over Li Rong, smirking. “Am I just your sugar daddy now?”
“Yep,” Li Rong answered matter-of-factly, nodding with a straight face.
Honest to a fault.
Cen Xiao had a good idea of why Li Rong had so willingly solved his physics problems—it was premeditated compensation.
But he didn’t mind Li Rong’s little games; in fact, he found the flash of triumph in Li Rong’s expression when he succeeded rather amusing.
Jian Fu, ever efficient, ordered two scallop and shrimp fried rice meals for himself and Cen Xiao along with the soup.
Half an hour later, the food arrived, and he brought it back to their classroom.
The room was nearly empty, leaving only the three of them.
When Jian Fu returned, the windows were shut tight, and the air conditioning was off.
Sweat dripped down Jian Fu’s forehead. “Is the power out? It’s so hot. Let’s turn on the AC.”
As he grumbled, he set the meals down—Jade Fish Soup for Li Rong, fried rice for himself and Cen Xiao.
Cen Xiao gestured towards Li Rong, who was fiddling with the plastic wrap. “He can’t be exposed to cold air. Bear with it.”
Jian Fu muttered under his breath, “….The guy left normal, came back a giant panda.”
Li Rong, unbothered, smiled warmly. “Pandas aren’t afraid of drafts.”
“…” Jian Fu’s mouth twitched.
Li Rong opened the box, catching a whiff of the fragrant fish soup. The chef was skilled—no oil, no greasiness, yet the soup smelled fresh and savory.
Li Rong lowered his gaze, scooping the soup slowly, taking measured sips.
He always ate deliberately. If he didn’t have enough time, he’d rather skip the meal than rush.
Cen Xiao didn’t eat much of his own fried rice, instead watching as Li Rong carefully sipped his soup for what felt like ages.
It was only when Li Rong ate that his lips regained a healthy, rosy hue. He seemed entirely focused, blowing on each spoonful to cool it before drinking, clearly mindful of his stomach.
Jian Fu, on the other hand, found the quiet meal incredibly awkward.
He had never eaten in such silence and tried to stir up a conversation. “So, what did Old Yang want with you earlier?”
Li Rong paused mid-sip, his ears perking up slightly while pretending not to listen.
Cen Xiao noticed, amused. Deliberately vague, he replied, “You’ll find out later.”
Jian Fu clicked his tongue, unsatisfied. “Oh, by the way, Song Yuanyuan from the class next door is throwing an 18th birthday party—a coming-of-age ball. Are you going…”
He trailed off, realizing Li Rong was still there. Technically, Song Yuanyuan was still Li Rong’s girlfriend.
“Ahem, I mean, the class monitor’s girlfriend is having a birthday,” Jian Fu said awkwardly, sneaking a glance at Li Rong.
Ever since the incident with Li Rong’s family, everyone assumed that Song Yuanyuan had broken up with him.
The Song family, being merchants, were adept at weighing risks and gains. There was no way they would stay tied to the Li family. Even if Song Yuanyuan were deeply in love with Li Rong, her family would force a separation.
Still, saying it outright felt distasteful, so Jian Fu stuck to the term “girlfriend.”
Li Rong murmured softly, “My girlfriend, huh.”
He didn’t harbor much resentment toward Song Yuanyuan. It was human nature to seek safety and avoid danger. If even his own uncle could sever ties without hesitation, how could he expect anything more from a girlfriend?
Cen Xiao toyed with his chopsticks, picking out a shrimp and popping it into his mouth. “Her mother called mine personally.”
“Ooh…” Jian Fu gave Cen Xiao a knowing look.
In families like theirs, every move was calculated. That Song Yuanyuan’s mother reached out to Cen Xiao’s mother was a clear message.
With someone of Cen Xiao’s stature, countless families sought connections. Some within Blue Pivot, others in Hongsuo, all wanted to bridge the divide and establish ties.
It made sense for the Song family to try, given that both kids were about to graduate and head to A University.
The only awkward part was Li Rong’s presence. If something did spark between Cen Xiao and Song Yuanyuan, it would mean Cen Xiao had “stolen” Li Rong’s girlfriend.
By definition, they’d become rivals in love.
Jian Fu couldn’t help but glance at Li Rong.
Li Rong met his gaze. “Are you waiting for me to be heartbroken and fight Cen Xiao to the death?”
“Hahaha, don’t joke about that,” Jian Fu laughed dryly, trying to ease the tension.
Li Rong could tell Jian Fu was hoping for some melodramatic love triangle, but Jian Fu didn’t know their future held something far more twisted.
The sheer absurdity of it would rank as A High’s top scandal.
Cen Xiao shot Jian Fu a cold look, warning him, “I’m not interested in Song Yuanyuan.”
Jian Fu quipped, “Then who are you interested in?”
In his mind, Li Rong silently replied, Me.
Jian Fu sighed to himself, “Well, considering Uncle Cen and Aunt Xiao… Your family’s situation probably makes you think relationships are pointless.”
“Eat,” Cen Xiao cut him off, mercilessly shutting down the conversation.
Li Rong verbally expressed his sincere gratitude to Cen Xiao for the fish soup.
After drinking a large bowl, he felt warm and comfortable in his stomach.
During the self-study class in the afternoon, Cui Mingyang was escorted into the room by Yang Fenfang herself.
Cui Mingyang’s lips were swollen almost two centimeters high, bruised and purplish, smeared with white medicinal powder, making him look comically like a clown performing in a circus.
The classmates couldn’t hold back and started laughing one after another. Cui Mingyang’s face flushed red as he cast a furious glare in Li Rong’s direction.
Yang Fenfang tapped on the blackboard and said, “Quiet down, what’s so funny? Don’t you have homework to do?”
Although the laughter stopped, the curious glances at Cui Mingyang didn’t cease.
“What’s up with Cui Mingyang? Did he hurt his face?”
“No idea. Must be some karmic justice. Wasn’t he gunning to be class monitor?”
“Does Li Rong know about this? Tsk tsk.”
Yang Fenfang waved her hand, signaling Cui Mingyang to return to his seat, then gave Li Rong a meaningful look.
Li Rong’s face was the picture of innocence—pale, sickly, delicate, and refined. Even the faint smile hanging at the corner of his lips exuded an inexplicable air of goodwill. But Yang Fenfang’s intuition told her that Li Rong, having returned this time, was far more enigmatic than before.
Taking a deep breath, Yang Fenfang announced, “I have something to tell you all.”
“It’s happening! The announcement about the new class monitor!”
“Cui Mingyang has been dreaming of this day!”
“They’re definitely not letting Li Rong continue. We all saw this coming.”
Yang Fenfang said, “Next week’s mock exam will closely resemble the college entrance exam. I hope everyone takes it seriously and participates fully. That’s all, continue your self-study.”
She then pulled up a chair and began reading a book at the podium.
The class waited for a long time, but Cui Mingyang never got the moment they had all anticipated. Clearly, Yang Fenfang had no intention of announcing any change.
Cui Mingyang kept his head down in his test papers, his face dark, and said nothing.
Li Rong and Cen Xiao were the only ones unfazed by the situation.
Cen Xiao glanced at his pale, innocent-looking deskmate, his expression scrutinizing. “Satisfied?”
“Mm-hmm.” Li Rong smiled contentedly, nodding his head a few times with rapid enthusiasm.
It had a touch of that “fanning the flames for amusement” vibe.
At this point, Cen Xiao was surprisingly easy to handle.
Li Rong, however, didn’t last until evening self-study. As soon as class ended, he left school.
No sooner had he walked out the door than Jian Fu hurried over to his seat.
“Brother Xiao, don’t you think the class monitor is acting weird? The more I think about it, the stranger it feels. Sitting with us to eat? And smiling like that? So…” Jian Fu bared his teeth, scratching his head as he searched for the right word. After a long pause, he smacked his lips together, admitting defeat. “Just… smiling so sweetly, you know?”
Cen Xiao only looked up when Jian Fu said the word sweet. The image of Li Rong’s feigned innocent smile flickered in his mind. Li Rong, when he wanted to smile, would first press his lips together, holding back. But his eyes would curve more and more until he couldn’t restrain it anymore, finally parting his lips slightly to reveal a hint of his teeth.
“Whether it’s sweet or not has nothing to do with you.”
Jian Fu felt like Cen Xiao had missed his point. “It’s not about me, but with his family in that situation, how can he still smile like that? I heard my dad say that the Hongsuo organization is dumping all the blame on Li Qingli to save themselves.”
Cen Xiao’s gaze darkened slightly, his thumb brushing against the tip of his pen, leaving faint scratches across his fingerprint.
“That has even less to do with you.”
Jian Fu sighed. “I know I shouldn’t talk about stuff like this. Still, we should keep our distance from Li Rong. My mom warned me ages ago to steer clear of him—no need to risk getting dragged into a mess.”
Cen Xiao said nothing, so Jian Fu kept rambling. “But here’s the weird part—wasn’t Yang Fenfang going to replace Li Rong? Cui Mingyang has already been doing the class monitor’s work for two days. Why was there no movement on that today?”
Cen Xiao replied, “Someone objected.”
Jian Fu laughed incredulously. “What? Who the h*ll objected? And who would object that matters?”
Cen Xiao glanced at him, his expression calm. “Me.”
Jian Fu froze. “…Did you even listen to the part where I said we should stay away from him?”
Cen Xiao paused his movements, his gaze drifting to Li Rong’s now-occupied desk. “You stay away from him. And stop thinking about whether he’s sweet or not.”
![The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth]](https://i2.wp.com/lazygirltranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/4322s.jpg?resize=151,215 "The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth]")
