The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 41

Li Rong froze.

Time seemed to stretch, the flow of sound and visuals around him slowing by half a beat.

It was as if he had been sealed in a vacuum, silently watching time flow before his eyes. At some point, something had shifted, imperceptibly yet profoundly.

He had not expected Cen Xiao to say such words, leaving him wholly unprepared for the “shift” they brought.

He knew the warmth spreading across his face and the chaos in his heart would betray emotions he hadn’t yet fully deciphered.

At least in this moment, he felt a yearning toward Cen Xiao—a desire, fervent and intimate, like that between lovers.

This was troubling.

Li Rong wanted to suppress the thought; now wasn’t the time to entertain such things.

But not all emotions can be subdued. His mind seemed to short-circuit, neurons firing uncontrollably, stimulating the occipital lobe. He couldn’t stop the flood of impulses: the urge to pull Cen Xiao close by the neck, to kiss him, to trace the strength of his muscles, to both possess and be possessed.

He wasn’t sure if Cen Xiao understood the gravity of his own words, but to Li Rong—who had lived through his previous life—it felt like a promise of immeasurable weight.

In the upheaval of their reality, to trust him, to trust his parents, to gamble their future and lives on such precarious ground—could such a monumental decision really come from an eighteen-year-old in the throes of passion?

Li Rong didn’t dare to dwell on certain suspicions because if they were true, then Cen Xiao…

For now, it was enough to know Cen Xiao was beside him and that he liked Cen Xiao—a lot.

The movie played on, noisy as ever. On-screen, a rotund panda awkwardly climbed a tree, laughing at its non-climbing companions below. But the branch couldn’t bear its weight and, after a wobble, snapped with a crack. The panda froze, flailed its limbs, then let out a wail before tumbling down with a cloud of dust and leaves.

Lin Zhen and Jian Fu burst into laughter at its antics.

Li Rong laughed too.

His gaze dropped slightly, settling on Cen Xiao’s lips. His throat bobbed as his tongue swept slowly across his lips.

“If Lin Zhen and the others weren’t here, I’d kiss you right now,” he murmured.

As he spoke, he raised a hand, pressing it onto Cen Xiao’s shoulder, squeezing twice before slowly sliding upward. His palm brushed over Cen Xiao’s warm neck, his forefinger stopping at Cen Xiao’s lips, lightly grazing them.

Cen Xiao’s lips were warm, soft against his fingertip, stirring memories of kisses that had once covered his body.

Cen Xiao took a deep breath, grasped Li Rong’s hand, and pulled his finger away. In a low, warning tone, he said, “If we cross the line, it won’t end with just a kiss.”

Li Rong didn’t pull back. Instead, his palm tightened around Cen Xiao’s thumb, his voice soft as he chuckled. “Ah… then we’d better find somewhere private.”

Though the cinema was dim, it wasn’t private. This was a birthday surprise Lin Zhen had carefully planned—someone was undoubtedly monitoring from backstage, ready to bring out the cake at the appointed time.

Cen Xiao clearly realized this too, so he promptly withdrew his hand.

Sure enough, just as Li Rong had anticipated, the moment the movie ended, Lin Zhen and Jian Fu turned around with knowing smiles. The credits vanished from the screen, replaced by the words “Happy Birthday, class monitor!”

The text, enhanced with special effects, sparkled and scrolled across the screen as the birthday song began to play. The atmosphere in the theater reached its peak.

The emergency exit doors swung open, letting in the cool hallway breeze. A staff member carefully wheeled in an elaborately decorated birthday cake.

The cake had candles shaped like the number “18,” their tiny flames flickering gently. The vibrant orange glow cast a soft halo of light on the deep red carpet.

Lin Zhen and Jian Fu immediately stood and began clapping. “Happy birthday, class monitor!”

“Woo! Happy birthday, Panda!”

Lin Zhen clapped the hardest, his enthusiasm radiating through his youthful face, which seemed to glow under the warm light.

Jian Fu kept glancing at Cen Xiao, signaling for him to join the celebration. But though Cen Xiao cleared his throat and made an effort, he couldn’t muster the carefree exuberance of Jian Fu. After a brief moment of deliberation, he decisively gave up trying to join the excitement.

Li Rong couldn’t hold back a chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

He had to admit—he liked this sense of ceremony. Once, he had thought such gestures were clichéd and corny. But now, as someone at the center of it, he realized the importance wasn’t in the form but in the people participating.

In his past life, he had wrapped himself in isolation, with no such earnest and enthusiastic friends around him.

Enthusiasm was good. Innocence was good.

If it weren’t for circumstances beyond his control, who wouldn’t want to remain innocent forever?

“Thank you for doing all this for me,” Li Rong said, resting a hand on Cen Xiao’s shoulder as he stood. For once, his lips were tightly pressed in uncharacteristic shyness. His bright, almond-shaped eyes were filled with clarity, his cheeks tinged with a flush of excitement and surprise.

He glanced at the birthday cake, his lips curving upward as he lowered his head to brush back a strand of hair from his forehead.

The movement of his head made his hair sway, catching the light from the screen and sending faint shadows across his face. For a moment, his expression was one of rare coyness.

This time, Cen Xiao couldn’t help but feel the urge to clap. Li Rong’s delighted, bashful demeanor was so lifelike it was hard to believe he wasn’t completely surprised by the sequence of events.

Lin Zhen and Jian Fu were clearly thrilled.

Jian Fu hummed smugly. “Didn’t see this coming, did you? I booked the cinema, picked the cake, and reserved the movie. Nobody else was here because I rented the whole place out!”

Lin Zhen suddenly remembered something, patted Jian Fu on the shoulder, and darted out of his seat. He dashed to the back row, carefully cradling a painting as he returned.

“We saw this painting while out shopping and thought it was stunning, so we decided to give it to you as a birthday gift. Oh, and the frame? Jian Fu paid to have it mounted. I picked the painting myself. I hope it inspires you to keep a bright heart like this piece,” Lin Zhen said with a grin.

It was a vibrant oil painting with intertwining shades of blue and orange, depicting the shimmering surface of the sea. Rich light cut through the mist rising from the ocean, and a dolphin leaped gracefully out of the water, its silhouette reflecting against a distant, majestic island.

The painting carried an auspicious title—”The Day Dawn Breaks.”

Li Rong tilted his head to examine it under the dim theater light, murmuring appreciatively, “You’ve got a good eye for art. It’s not every day someone stumbles upon a piece this valuable.”

Lin Zhen, not well-versed in art, was delighted by the praise. His hands fidgeted, and his eyes sparkled. “Really? Is it that valuable? Honestly, I just picked the one that felt right. I’m not exactly an expert or anything…”

Li Rong, however, kept a straight face as he explained, “I know this artist. They don’t produce many works each year, but their pieces always appreciate in value. Have you heard of NFTs? One of their paintings, as a non-fungible token on the blockchain, has already shot up to ten million. Even my father is a fan of their work. Thank you—this is truly an unexpected gift.”

Lin Zhen was stunned into silence. He had no clue about the artist’s fame or the painting’s value. All he knew was that his gut instinct had paid off. He flushed with excitement, waving his hands in embarrassed modesty. “As long as you like it, that’s all that matters!”

Cen Xiao raised an eyebrow and gave Li Rong a pointed look. “Really?”

NFTs were still a relatively niche concept, and even online information about them was sparse. How did Li Rong know so much?

Li Rong responded with a mischievous smile.

Jian Fu, meanwhile, had not forgotten about Cen Xiao. Seeing that Lin Zhen had already given his gift and that Li Rong was clearly thrilled, Jian Fu loudly cleared his throat, trying to salvage the situation for his older brother.

“My brother didn’t forget your birthday gift! You don’t know how strict his dad is—he’s got all his accounts monitored. Every cent he spends is scrutinized. Honestly, it took my dad helping out behind the scenes to make it happen, but his dad…”

Li Rong chuckled, cutting off Jian Fu’s rambling. “He already gave me his gift.”

Jian Fu looked completely confused, just as he had in their past life when this scenario had played out before.

Li Rong remembered how, in his previous life, Song Yuanyuan had been deeply upset after catching him in Cen Xiao’s apartment, disheveled and barely dressed. She had run home to complain to her mother, who, in turn, informed Xiao Muran.

Xiao Muran had reacted violently, demanding that Cen Xiao and Li Rong end their relationship immediately.

Li Rong could understand the sentiment. The Cen family would naturally want to steer clear of the tangled mess that followed him wherever he went. Xiao Muran likely found it hard to accept his son being entangled with another man as well.

That was when Li Rong learned how poor Cen Xiao’s relationship with his parents truly was.

Li Rong had accidentally overheard Cen Xiao on the phone in his study. The call ended with Cen Xiao saying, flatly and emotionlessly, “He’s just pretty. I’m only playing around.”

At the time, Li Rong had calmly popped a wedge of orange into his mouth.

When Cen Xiao turned and saw him standing there, he hesitated as if wanting to explain, but ultimately said nothing.

Later, Jian Fu had come to him, awkwardly trying to smooth things over with roundabout hints:

“Hey, you get what a temporary compromise is, right? And how sometimes saying things outright can turn a shield into a knife? I’m just saying, this situation is complicated. If you know, you know. If you don’t, just think carefully about it. Don’t make my brother’s life harder over a couple of out-of-context words, okay? You get what I’m saying, right? You should understand.”

But Li Rong had simply flipped through a student’s homework, calmly correcting a few sentences with a pen, and replied indifferently, “I don’t care.”

Now, in the dim theater, candles flickered, and the rich scent of frosting filled the air.

Lin Zhen slapped his thigh. “I almost forgot—class monitor, time to blow out the candles and make a wish!”

Jian Fu, however, was still stuck on the previous topic, curiosity eating away at him.

“My brother already gave you something? When? He said he didn’t buy anything. I didn’t see him bring anything, either!”

He leaned over the seat, craning his neck to peek at Li Rong’s side, but there was nothing there.

“What did my brother give you?”

Pushing Cen Xiao toward the candles, Li Rong followed Lin Zhen’s instructions, but not before giving Jian Fu a sly smile. “Guess.”

Jian Fu clutched his head in frustration. “You’re impossible!”

He knew that if Li Rong didn’t want to tell him, he’d never find out.

Lin Zhen helped the staff wheel the cake to the center. Carefully shielding the candle flames, he urged, “Quick, make a wish! My mom says wishes made on your 18th birthday are the most powerful—they’re sure to come true!”

Li Rong gazed at the sweating, colorful candles, puffed his cheeks, and gave an experimental blow.

The flames flickered briefly before flaring back up.

Grinning, he closed his laughter-filled eyes, laced his fingers together, and bowed his head in quiet contemplation for a few seconds.

Finally, he leaned forward, gripping the cart for balance, took a deep breath, and blew out the candles in one go.

The theater lights came on instantly.

Jian Fu squinted against the sudden brightness but immediately began pestering Li Rong. “What did you wish for? Tell me!”

Lin Zhen started to remind him that saying wishes out loud would make them ineffective, but Li Rong beat him to it.

“I wished… for the cake to taste good,” he said straightforwardly.

Jian Fu: “…”

Cen Xiao calmly pulled the candles from the cake. “That’s enough. He doesn’t believe in these things anyway.”

Even on his 18th birthday, Li Rong wouldn’t allow himself to pin his hopes on divine intervention. No wish, no matter how special the occasion, could replace his determination to shape his own fate.

He was always supremely clear-headed.

Li Rong crossed his arms and turned his gaze to Cen Xiao, his eyes lingering briefly on the left side of Cen Xiao’s ribs, but he said nothing.

—I hope the you who chooses to stand by my side will live well.

That, truly, was his wish.