The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 47

Liu Tanzhi, now 34 years old, has a slender figure and attractive features.

After graduating from the Foreign Languages Department of A University at 22, she didn’t qualify for postgraduate studies in her field and chose instead to stay at the university as a student affairs officer.

After just one year of work, she became involved with Li Baishou, who was then an associate professor in the Biochemistry Institute. They married five months into their relationship.

With Li Baishou’s support, Liu Tanzhi rose through the ranks faster than her peers who also stayed at the university. She transferred from the Academic Affairs Office to the International Department and later from the International Department to the Environmental Management Program under the Biochemistry Institute, eventually becoming the Director of Academic Affairs.

This career path was somewhat unusual. The International Department at A University was known to be a prestigious and comfortable position. The work mainly involved managing student exchanges and study abroad applications, all within the office, with little need for outside engagement. Although opportunities for promotion were limited, it shouldn’t have been an issue for Liu Tanzhi.

By contrast, the position of Academic Affairs Director involved dealing with numerous administrative issues and disputes. It was far more demanding than the leisurely pace of the International Department, where she could relax with tea while helping students print materials or answer queries.

At the time, many speculated that Liu Tanzhi moved to the Biochemistry Institute to be closer to her husband, who was deeply immersed in his research projects and rarely came home.

Liu Tanzhi neither confirmed nor denied these rumors. At work, she was diligent and low-profile.

The capital used to register those media accounts was a bit of a stretch for Liu Tanzhi and Li Baishou at the time unless they had some gray income.

Now, however, those media accounts had started generating profits. Occasionally, they engaged in product promotions, with fees ranging from 3,000 to 10,000 yuan per post.

Combined, the revenue had become substantial. By all accounts, Liu Tanzhi could have resigned from A University to focus on managing these accounts and living comfortably.

Over the phone, Jian Fu whispered, “This is all I could find out for now, and that’s only because the previous media incident drew some attention from District One. Otherwise, someone as minor as her wouldn’t even have a file.”

Cen Xiao asked, “Whose account did you use to check?”

Jian Fu replied, “Just a technician from District One. It’s all connected on the internal network. But yeah, the monitoring’s strict these days. If I weren’t specially recruited and sort of interning, he wouldn’t have shown me anything.”

Cen Xiao was silent for a moment before saying, “The internal network may be interconnected, but access permissions are not the same.”

A regular technician in District One would at most be able to pull up basic personal information. If Blue Pivot’s District One suspected that the media accounts behind Liu Tanzhi were tied to a Hongsuo background, they wouldn’t just record superficial details.

Unless more comprehensive information was restricted by higher-level permissions, requiring a higher-ranking account to access it.

Jian Fu said, “You’ve got a point, but I can’t easily bring this up to my parents. You know how they always prioritize the bigger picture.”

To his parents, the peace and stability of District One were paramount. Whatever Li Rong wanted to investigate or what Li Qingli had to do with it was none of their concern.

If Jian Fu insisted on wading into this mess, his parents would undoubtedly become an obstacle.

Meanwhile, Ji Xiaochuan sat hunched over the table, her upper body leaning against its edge. One arm rested underneath the table while the other held chopsticks, picking up a single peanut. She blinked and hesitantly asked, “Is my mom’s employer… a bad person?”

Li Rong, who had been silent after listening to Jian Fu’s report, finally lifted his gaze and asked, “You mentioned that Li Baishou and Liu Tanzhi don’t allow anyone into certain rooms except the kitchen?”

Ji Xiaochuan furrowed her brow, trying to recall.

Her mother rarely shared anything personal after work, always coming home exhausted and irritable. Any information Ji Xiaochuan gleaned came from the occasional outburst during her mother’s moments of frustration.

“There was one time,” Ji Xiaochuan began haltingly, “when my mom was cooking at their house, and a pipe in one of the rooms… burst. Water started leaking under the door. Neither the professor nor his wife… were home. My mom was worried something important might get ruined, so she called a plumber she knew and also called… his wife.

“When his wife found out, she… yelled at my mom over the phone. Even though my mom and the plumber couldn’t even get the door open, his wife accused her of invading her privacy. She said she wanted to fire my mom and even threatened… to sue her.

“In the end, my mom apologized just to keep her job… but when she came home, she…”

Ji Xiaochuan stopped mid-sentence, chewing the peanut silently.

What happened afterward was self-evident.

Her mother, trying to prevent further damage and help her employers, ended up being insulted and threatened instead of being thanked.

Anyone would feel anger and frustration in such a situation. But for the sake of a good salary, they would have to swallow their pride and endure it. And that pent-up resentment would often be vented on someone weaker—someone unable to resist or escape, like a child.

Li Rong sighed inwardly.

He had once believed that his parents, Li Qingli and Gu Nong, represented the norm for what parents should be. But as he encountered more people, he realized that not all parents were like his own.

There had to be something significant in Liu Tanzhi’s restricted room that she didn’t want anyone to see.

But whether it had anything to do with his parents’ situation remained uncertain.

Li Rong asked again, “So Li Baishou and his wife don’t get along and often argue?”

Ji Xiaochuan replied, “I just remember my mom saying they’re… separated. They don’t… share a room. She said they’ll… probably get divorced. Oh, the professor rarely… comes home. His wife, though, is there every day. My mom mainly cooks for… her. She’s really into health… and won’t eat outside food.”

Li Rong thought back to his previous life.

Research was a tough and tedious field. Gossip about colleagues often served as a way to relieve stress—stories about who was dating whom, divorces, affairs, or secret indulgences.

Although Li Rong didn’t enjoy such chatter, being in that environment meant he couldn’t completely avoid picking up bits of it.

At the time, Li Baishou already had some standing at Hongsuo Research Institute. Despite frequent criticisms of his academic abilities, there had been no gossip about his personal life.

Liu Tanzhi was like an invisible person—unremarkable, never standing out—seemingly the woman who silently supported Li Baishou from behind, content to remain in the Environmental Science Department, all for the sake of her husband’s career.

At least as far as Li Rong had heard, there was no indication that Li Baishou and his wife had a bad relationship, let alone that they were divorced.

Much like the findings from Jian Fu’s investigation, Liu Tanzhi was inconceivably low-profile.

Logically speaking, having a husband who was a professor at the prestigious Hongsuo Research Institute should elevate her status far above her peers. Yet Liu Tanzhi neither flaunted nor showcased it; she seemed eager to disappear entirely from the public eye.

However, beneath this low-profile exterior, Liu Tanzhi managed several media accounts, controlling a segment of the online discourse. These accounts not only occasionally promoted unverified products but also sensationalized hot topics and spread rumors.

Cen Xiao poured a cup of warm tea and handed it to Li Rong.

The clear tea released a soothing fragrance as wisps of steam curled upward.

“If not for the information we got from Ji Xiaochuan, our reasoning might’ve gone astray.”

Li Rong lowered his eyes, holding the tea cup in his hands, warming his fingertips.

True enough.

Whether it was the findings from District One’s investigation or his impressions from his past life, it was easy to assume that Liu Tanzhi and Li Baishou acted as a unit. Anything Liu Tanzhi did to harm Li Qingli would naturally be viewed as paving the way for Li Baishou.

Li Rong said, “Liu Tanzhi invested in Fengguang Media under her own name, running those media accounts. Whether it’s promoting dubious products or manipulating public opinion to achieve her goals, she’s unafraid of being discovered. After all, with Li Baishou under the spotlight, he serves as her perfect cover. It’s even possible that she’s intentionally steering others to suspect him instead.”

Cen Xiao picked up a piece of marinated tofu, dipped it in spiced salt, and brought it to Li Rong’s lips.

Li Rong was so absorbed in thoughts about matters related to Li Baishou that his body reacted instinctively.

With his hands occupied by the tea cup, he leaned forward and obediently bit into the tofu, chewing twice before swallowing.

Ji Xiaochuan, meanwhile, scooped up a piece of crispy sausage from the hot pot, ate it with a big spoonful of rice, and furtively observed that Li Rong hadn’t touched his own chopsticks even once.

Satisfied that Li Rong had eaten the tofu, Cen Xiao continued, “Li Baishou is flawed, and people like that make ideal scapegoats. You’ve heard of the McDonald triad?”

Li Rong chuckled lightly. “The homicidal triad—an old psychological theory about crime.”

Ji Xiaochuan, utterly confused, didn’t dare interrupt their conversation.

Noticing her bewilderment, Li Rong elaborated further: “The triad identifies bed-wetting, arson, and animal cruelty as common traits among murderers. Although later studies showed the theory is far from conclusive…”

He stopped himself, realizing he was veering off-topic. Now wasn’t the time for a lecture.

Cen Xiao redirected the conversation. “If Li Baishou has flaw A, and flaw A is widely condemned, then when bad incident B comes to light, the public will, without evidence, quickly believe that the person with flaw A must also be responsible for B.”

Li Rong knew all too well that Li Baishou’s biggest flaw was stealing Li Qingli’s research.

Though others were unaware, Liu Tanzhi undoubtedly knew.

If one day Liu Tanzhi’s true motives were about to be exposed, she could easily reveal what Li Baishou had done to Li Qingli and shift all blame onto him.

For years, Li Baishou had enjoyed success, never imagining that one day he might follow in Li Qingli’s footsteps: slandered, denounced, ostracized, and abandoned by the career he loved.

He might argue that he only wanted to surpass Li Qingli, never intending harm.

But no one would believe him. No charitable donations, years of teaching, helpful experiments, or even acts of kindness, like tossing a ten-yuan bill to a starving beggar, could absolve his guilt.

Of course, this was all predicated on Liu Tanzhi and Li Baishou genuinely being estranged.

Cen Xiao placed a tender, sauce-coated piece of broccoli on a spoon, blew on it to cool it, and held it out to Li Rong.

Having grown accustomed to this feeding arrangement, Li Rong reflexively accepted the broccoli without hesitation.

Ji Xiaochuan drank a big gulp of lemon water.

From the moment the dishes arrived, she had eaten the most by far. Cen Xiao hadn’t touched a single bite, but Li Rong…

Li Rong might not have lifted his chopsticks, but he certainly wouldn’t go hungry.

Cen Xiao, seeing Li Rong finish the broccoli, nonchalantly picked up a piece of carrot—his least favorite vegetable.

The carrot had been simmered with beef, and the meat’s aroma largely masked the carrot’s taste.

Cen Xiao handed the spoon over, casually mentioning, “At the end of December, there’s an upper-class networking event in A City. To maintain appearances, the top brass from both Hongsuo and Blue Pivot will attend. Even if Liu Tanzhi wants to stay low-key, she’ll have to show up with Li Baishou. We can gather a lot of intel before they realize anything.”

Hearing this, Li Rong couldn’t help but recall the past.

Though conflicts between the Hongsuo Institute and the Commerce association were constant, there were always those eager to restore their original cooperative relationship.

In pursuit of this lofty ideal, intermediaries had organized countless events under the banner of mutual learning, fostering communication, and strengthening friendships.

But lofty ideals often crumbled before tangible interests. The gap between Blue Pivot and Hongsuo had widened irreparably, and the visionaries who once founded them now laid beneath the soil.

“I don’t qualify to attend. You… pfft!”

Li Rong had absentmindedly taken a bite of the carrot that Cen Xiao had snuck onto the spoon. At first, the broth-soaked exterior was pleasant, but as soon as he bit down, the carrot’s distinct flavor surged forth, triggering an involuntary gag reflex.

He grimaced, grabbed a napkin, spit the carrot out, and tossed it into the trash.

Li Rong snapped out of his reverie, rinsing his mouth with the slightly cool tea. He shot Cen Xiao an indignant glare. “Trying to trick me into eating carrots? No way!”