The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 45

Though Du Mingli was significantly older than Li Rong, he was still in his prime.

At thirty-four years old, with no gray hair or excess weight, Du Mingli had a robust, well-maintained physique.

Faced with Li Rong’s unfiltered taunt, he showed no anger. Instead, his gaze softened, taking on the patience of an elder accustomed to dealing with naive, idealistic youths.

Retracting his hand without the slightest awkwardness, Du Mingli replied warmly, “When you’re struggling, you should focus on yourself; when you’re thriving, you should help others. Even if I’m older, I still want to contribute to society.”

His tone was calm and unwavering, his eyes open and sincere, unfazed by anyone’s scrutiny.

Behind him, Tang He’s assistant couldn’t help but let out a low gasp of admiration, his eyes glowing with envy. Realizing he was the only one making noise in the lounge, the assistant quickly clamped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

He had simply never encountered someone who openly proclaimed such lofty ideals.

Locking eyes with Du Mingli, Li Rong scrutinized him sharply for a few seconds, only to find that he was being genuine.

Currently, every District Nine candidate came from distinct backgrounds. While some appeared to have no connections on the surface, a little digging often revealed ties to Blue Pivot or Hongsuo within five degrees of separation.

This wasn’t deliberate but a natural outcome of District Nine’s stringent selection criteria, which filtered out families unable to afford the exorbitant training costs.

Having spent years in the financial world, Du Mingli must have discovered some inequitable dealings. Perhaps his distrust of these self-policing mechanisms had driven his desire to personally join District Nine and see for himself.

If this were his true motivation, Li Rong could begrudgingly acknowledge it as admirable. After all, Li Qingli had once expressed a similar sentiment.

But Cen Xiao merely snorted lightly, clearly unimpressed by Du Mingli’s words.

He didn’t even deign to properly look at Du Mingli, as though he had been dragged here against his will and found the entire interaction beneath his notice.

Du Mingli glanced at Cen Xiao, puzzled for a moment, before smiling good-naturedly. “I suppose it does sound a bit idealistic. You can treat it as idle talk if you like.”

He didn’t expect to have his ideals understood by these second-generation heirs.

Li Rong turned his head toward Cen Xiao.

Du Mingli indeed had a knack for being likable—at least, no one who met him would find him unpleasant.

Li Rong knew Du Mingli’s depths, his shrewdness, and his smooth, steady ways. Yet none of that was incompatible with a genuine idealism.

Even Li Rong himself found his wariness easing slightly.

But Cen Xiao? He wasn’t buying any of it.

It wasn’t just distrust; it was outright contempt—complete and total disdain for Du Mingli’s ability and character.

Li Rong raised an eyebrow slightly, a lazy smile curling his lips. “Well, you’ve got a point. After all, isn’t everyone who joins District Nine here to contribute to society?”

Clearly biased against entitled brats, Du Mingli was momentarily taken aback by Li Rong’s words. But he quickly adopted a look of self-reflection. “You’re right. Despite our differences in age, background, and experiences, at least our goals are aligned.”

Li Rong feigned nonchalance, curling his lips as if unwilling to be grouped with the likes of Du Mingli.

“You said you want to buy our training sessions?”

Finally steering the conversation back on track, Du Mingli glanced at Cen Xiao from the corner of his eye. It was clear he seldom encountered someone who displayed such overt dislike toward him upon their first meeting, especially without any apparent reason.

Du Mingli nodded and turned his attention back to Li Rong, who at least seemed approachable. “Yes. I came across this training center a bit late, and the owner’s schedule is already fully booked by other candidates. So, I have no choice but to see if someone with more sessions booked might be willing to give one up.”

Li Rong casually wiped the faint sheen of sweat from his palm, a sly smile curling his lips. “Well, that’s different. We barely get a breather on weekends.” Subtly emphasizing the demand for their sessions, he looked up, his eyes brimming with unhidden greed. “So, how much are you offering?”

Du Mingli chuckled, gesturing toward the sofa. “Let’s sit down to talk.”

Li Rong wasted no time, pulling Cen Xiao by the arm and taking the central spot on the sofa. The seat he claimed was exactly where Du Mingli had been sitting, the slight creases in the cushion still visible.

Du Mingli’s eyes flickered but betrayed no emotion. He calmly walked to the water dispenser, grabbed two paper cups, and began filling them with water. 

“The base price for one of the owner’s sessions is twenty thousand. What amount are you thinking? I need to know if it’s within my means. If it’s too much, I simply can’t afford it.”

Li Rong named an outrageous price: “One hundred thousand. How about that?”

Under extreme circumstances, a person’s true nature often reveals itself. 

As the water flow stopped abruptly, Du Mingli paused for a few seconds before sighing, his tone honest. “That’s a bit too steep. Forty thousand I can manage.”

Li Rong’s expression darkened. “Plenty of people can pay forty thousand. Why should we sell it to you?”

Du Mingli considered this briefly, then nodded. “True. But to be upfront, though I’m employed and have a seemingly impressive income, I don’t have much disposable cash right now. I’ve invested in a charity project—supporting ten restaurants for individuals with disabilities under my angel fund. All my working capital is tied up, and the project hasn’t started making a profit yet.”

Li Rong raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying you’re… an all-around good guy?”

Du Mingli carried the two cups of water over to them and explained, “Not exactly. I also hope the restaurants will be profitable. Only through sustainable business practices can real help be provided to these people. Relying solely on subsidies isn’t a long-term solution.”

As he handed over the cups, Li Rong froze for a moment, recalling how Li Qingli had similarly emphasized sustainability when sponsoring special education schools in the past. He had hired excellent teachers to train the children in handicrafts like paper cutting and decorations that could be sold, ensuring the children would eventually be self-reliant and no longer dependent on external funding.

Cen Xiao, however, didn’t take the offered cup. His subtle disdain caught Du Mingli off guard, who hadn’t noticed Li Rong failing to grip his own cup securely. As the paper cup slipped, hot water spilled onto Li Rong’s leg.

A sharp hiss escaped Li Rong as he quickly stood up.

Cen Xiao immediately shoved Du Mingli aside and grabbed tissues from the table to dab at the wet spot on Li Rong’s pants. His voice was tense. “Are you burned?”

Du Mingli snapped out of his daze, repeatedly apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hold it steady. Are you alright? If you’re hurt, I’ll cover any treatment costs.”

Li Rong placed his hand lightly on the back of Cen Xiao’s, patting it twice before taking the tissues to handle the situation himself. 

It’s fine.

The weather was cold, and his clothing thick. By the time the water soaked through to his skin, it wasn’t scalding anymore. 

Moreover, when the cup had spilled, some water had splashed onto his hand, and he realized it wasn’t boiling—maybe only around 50°C. It wouldn’t cause burns.

Du Mingli had deliberately added cool water.

Li Rong didn’t believe such a coincidence was accidental. Du Mingli likely wanted to test his and Cen Xiao’s relationship, and Cen Xiao’s reaction had given him exactly what he was looking for.

Li Rong wiped his pants slowly, his mind racing with thoughts. 

If Du Mingli succeeded in entering the Ninth District, sooner or later, their identities would be exposed. Should their relationship remain hidden from him?

For now, though, Du Mingli seemed to view them merely as candidates vying for spots in the Ninth District, with no malicious intent. 

And his project to establish a nationwide chain of disability-friendly restaurants wasn’t a lie—Li Rong had heard about it in his past life. 

It had earned Du Mingli considerable acclaim.

Still, Du Mingli’s earnestness in wanting to purchase a session and his candid explanation of his financial situation—despite its slight undertone of moral persuasion—were evident.

Cen Xiao steadied Li Rong by the waist. “I’ll take you to the washroom. There’s a hand dryer inside.”

Li Rong raised a brow, sensing the hand lightly pressed against his waist. Cen Xiao didn’t seem to care if their relationship was exposed to Du Mingli.

Before leaving, Li Rong turned back, his tone indifferent. “We’re not selling the session.”

Du Mingli, having clearly upset Li Rong, didn’t push further. He continued apologizing sincerely. “I’m really sorry about the mishap. If you’re injured, please let me know.”

After they left, Du Mingli’s warm smile gradually faded. His fingers tightened around the flimsy paper cup, crushing it in his grip as his gaze lingered on Li Rong’s retreating figure.

The washroom was empty.

With the gloomy weather and rain, few people came to train, especially this early in the morning. Only Cen Xiao, who preferred to avoid crowds, would choose such a time.

Li Rong closed the door behind them and shrugged. “It wasn’t hot at all. He mixed in cold water.”

Aside from the discomfort of his damp pants clinging to his skin, Li Rong wasn’t hurt and didn’t feel the need to hold a grudge against Du Mingli for the incident.

Cen Xiao, however, gazed at him with a peculiar expression and asked, “Why are you suddenly so interested in him?”

This was Li Rong’s first time meeting Tang He, and logically, Tang He’s words shouldn’t have warranted much attention. Yet, Li Rong insisted on meeting the man personally. 

The verbal sparring in the lounge earlier was primarily exploratory—a surprising amount of focus for someone whose name Li Rong hadn’t even known.

The restroom was filled with a refreshing lemon-mint scent. The air conditioning hummed softly, dispersing warmth into the room. A layer of mist clung to the glass windows, slightly blurring the outside view.

Li Rong thought to himself: naturally, it was to meet the future leader of the Ghost Eye Group before he stepped into the whirlpool of power.

But he innocently blinked and replied, “He’s your competitor. Of course, I’d be a little curious. Know your enemy, and you’ll be invincible.”

Before Cen Xiao could respond, Li Rong quickly countered, “I’m more curious, though. Why do you look down on him? You’ve never even met him before.”

Li Rong crossed his arms and casually tapped his fingers, patiently awaiting Cen Xiao’s answer.

From this meeting with Du Mingli, Li Rong could see that he was a shrewd but fundamentally good person—ambitious, determined to clean up chaos, and driven by both a compassionate heart and a calm, magnanimous demeanor. 

If it weren’t for the unresolved matter involving Han Jiang weighing on his mind, Li Rong wouldn’t have been so resistant to engaging with him.

Cen Xiao’s apparent disdain for Du Mingli seemed rather unwarranted. He wasn’t the type to underestimate others unless he was convinced that Du Mingli was a hypocrite with limited ability. 

Li Rong was genuinely curious about his reasoning.

Cen Xiao reached out to brush Li Rong’s now-dry hair, his tone seemingly nonchalant. “The most despicable people in the world aren’t outright villains but those who play the part of the righteous, waving the banner of justice while making innocent people pay the price and suffer to achieve their idealistic goals.”

Li Rong tilted his head slightly, his cheek brushing against Cen Xiao’s hand in a familiar gesture. Then, with sharp eyes, he asked, “Do you think he’s that kind of person?”

Cen Xiao chuckled softly, retracting his hand but letting his fingertips lightly graze Li Rong’s earlobe as he withdrew. “Maybe it’s just that I don’t like the way he looks at you. Perhaps I’m biased.”

Li Rong knew this was just an excuse, but he decided to accept it as a jealous remark.

Li Rong glanced around briefly before curling his lips into a smile and saying, “You’re really not shy about exposing our relationship, especially with how you reacted to that cup of hot water. I thought you could tell from the barely steaming paper cup that he didn’t actually intend to burn me.”

Cen Xiao countered, “What if?”

Li Rong: “What?”

Cen Xiao’s gaze deepened. “If you had something absolutely critical at home, even if you remembered locking the door, you’d still glance back before leaving.”

Li Rong was momentarily stunned, a subtle softness spreading in his heart.

Even though that cup of water didn’t seem hot, just the thought that there was even a one-in-ten-thousand chance it might burn him made it impossible not to check again.

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