The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 5

After evening self-study, Li Rong bought a bowl of red bean congee at the night market.

He didn’t actually like congee, but his stomach couldn’t handle anything else right now. It would take at least three or four days before he could eat some hot dishes.

Carrying the congee, he stood by the roadside waiting for the bus.

It had been a long time since he last took a bus. In his previous life, Ceng Xiao had arranged for him to live near the Hongsuo headquarters, so his days were monotonous and uneventful—either he was utterly engrossed in the lab or, once home, satisfying physiological needs with Ceng Xiao. The days passed quickly that way.

The bus had no available seats, and with so many red lights in the city, it stopped and started constantly. Several times, Li Rong almost threw up onboard, fidgeting uncomfortably the whole way.

Finally, he made it home after a grueling journey. The moment he got off the bus, he clung to a nearby utility pole and retched for nearly ten minutes.

His stomach cramped painfully, but at least the fish soup from lunch had mostly been absorbed, leaving him with just enough strength to carry on.

He wiped his mouth, leaned against the pole, took a deep breath of fresh air, and gently touched his flat, soft abdomen that rose and fell with his breathing.

To rebuild the beautiful muscles he had in his previous life would take time. For now, he had technique but no strength, leaving him too passive when dealing with others.

Suppressing the urge to vomit, Li Rong continued walking. Passing by rows of small villas, he was almost at his doorstep when he saw a short woman in a blue blouse and black trousers. She was with a few children, picking up stones to throw at his house’s windows.

The smooth pebbles arced through the air and struck the glass with a sharp, jarring sound.

The first stone didn’t break the glass, but the woman grew furious, as if deeply humiliated. Enraged, she tore off one of her muddy rain boots, swung her arm wide, and hurled it with all her strength.

Bang!

The window cracked into fine, smooth white fissures, like a newly woven spiderweb radiating outward from an indented center, unstoppable.

The mud-covered rain boot, having fulfilled its mission, rolled proudly onto the lawn like a triumphant victor.

As she smashed the glass, the woman cursed loudly, “Heartless! Wicked! You deserved to die! Your whole family should die!”

The scrawny children with her stood in front, laughing as they threw stones at the windows. They echoed her shouts: “Your whole family should die! B*stard!”

Unfortunately, their aim was poor. The scattered stones hit the window frames with dull, drumming thuds, failing to break through.

This villa community was managed with fairly strict security—after all, the property fees were high. Even if his parents were truly despicable, the guards would still do their jobs and keep random troublemakers out. That meant this woman and the children must have sneaked in by climbing the walls.

All social rules and conventions are designed to guard against gentlemen, not scoundrels.

Li Rong stood still, quietly watching.

He didn’t even feel the urge to intervene or argue. He had already run through the likely outcomes in his mind.

Emotional justice would inevitably override factual justice, and trying to get someone consumed by rage to admit they were misled by public opinion and the media would only require using equally irrational means.

He finally remembered this day vividly—it was when the public opinion against his family reached its peak. The news of his parents’ deaths had been leaked by someone within the hospital staff.

No one ever found out who leaked it, or perhaps the leak itself had been part of someone’s calculated plan.

Li Rong took out his phone and dialed the police.

“Hello, my name is Li Rong. I live at… Someone is smashing the glass outside my house. Please come quickly to handle it.”

After making the call, Li Rong casually found a wooden chair, sat down, and opened his food container. He began sipping his congee while watching the scene unfold.

The evening breeze was chilly, dissipating the rising steam from the congee. He carefully scooped a spoonful, testing the temperature before taking a cautious sip.

The red bean congee wasn’t sweet. The beans had been cooked until soft and mushy, sliding down his throat with a slight stickiness.

The woman and children had picked up all the stones they could find nearby and finally managed to shatter two glass windows. Shards of glass fell onto the lawn, resembling an overturned iron.

One of the children picked up a shard of glass and smashed it further on the cobblestone path, but in the process accidentally cut his hand. With a loud wail, he began to cry.

The woman hurriedly grabbed his hand to inspect it. Seeing a dirty palm with a fresh cut, she angrily spat several times at the house before quickly pulling the child away.

By the time Li Rong finished his congee, he had waited for a good while longer before the police finally arrived.

Then came the standard procedures: inspecting the scene, reviewing surveillance footage, and taking statements. It was confirmed that only the windows were damaged, and nothing was stolen. The police visibly relaxed.

This address, and this family, had already become infamous online.

No one was immune to the influence of collective will—it crept in subtly, shaping perceptions quietly.

This family was bad, and this was simply retribution.

“It’s too dark, and the surveillance footage isn’t very clear. Since nothing was stolen, just wait for now. We’ll let you know if there’s any news,” the officer said.

Li Rong cooperated and completed his statement, adding lightly, “You don’t need to update me. This house belongs to the government and is about to go up for judicial auction. Whether you find the culprits or how much compensation they owe will probably have to be explained to the court.”

The officer: “…..” His relaxed demeanor suddenly vanished.

After returning home, Li Rong cleaned up the glass shards and flopped onto the bed like a salted fish.

He needed to find another place to live because soon, he would start receiving “gifts” from all over the country to celebrate his family’s ruin.

[Song Yuanyuan: Li Rong, I heard you went back to school today. Why didn’t you come find me?]

The news of his return to school had finally reached Song Yuanyuan.

Li Rong stared at the message from his girlfriend, feeling a mix of emotions.

He and Song Yuanyuan had known each other for a long time. Their families had been close, and the adults had jokingly set up a childhood betrothal. It was natural for them to end up together.

This kind of relationship relied more on the novelty of young love than genuine affection for each other.

Wanting to experience romance, and having someone suitable nearby, they had naturally started dating.

It ended in a mess, though.

[Li Rong: Do you want to see me?]

[Song Yuanyuan: …I’m just glad you’re okay. I’ve been worried these days, but you know my mom—she’s extremely timid and scared of trouble.]

Li Rong wanted to reply, you’re the same way.

[Li Rong: It’s fine.]

[Song Yuanyuan: I’m about to turn eighteen. Remember how we celebrated my birthday together last year?]

[Li Rong: Mm.]

Song Yuanyuan was actually a year older than him. Gu Nong had pushed him to start school early to keep up with her friend’s children.

[Song Yuanyuan: Will you come to my coming-of-age ceremony? My mom wants you to be there.]

[Li Rong: Sure.]

Song Yuanyuan’s mother inviting him wasn’t out of concern but rather to publicly and formally sever ties with the Li family.

To make the break appear decisive and resolute, humiliation and targeting him would undoubtedly be part of the package.

Li Rong’s phone buzzed again. He looked down.

[Song Yuanyuan: Cen Xiao, have you chosen a dance partner yet?]

[Message retracted.]

[Song Yuanyuan: …Sent that by mistake.]

Li Rong couldn’t help but laugh at Song Yuanyuan’s stupidity.

Switching between conversations with two people, she should have been more careful not to send the wrong message.

Otherwise, he’d be forced to acknowledge that his girlfriend was currently flirting with his future long-term bedmate.

Still, the dog in gentleman’s clothing had actually added Song Yuanyuan and was chatting with her?

How could the messy entanglement between the three of them lack the subplot of him and Cen Xiao?

Li Rong decisively found the silent and reserved “Blue Golden Chinchilla” avatar in the class group chat and clicked “Add Friend.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three consecutive, fluid gunshots rang out. On the target, three bullet holes clustered tightly within the small central circle of ten rings.

Three different guns, three targets, and each shot landed squarely in the center.

Cen Xiao set down the slightly warm rifle, removed his safety glasses with one hand, and pulled out his earplugs. His gaze rested on the results of his shooting, which were considered exceptional by most standards, yet his expression remained indifferent.

The coach couldn’t help but praise him: “That’s professional-level shooting right there. I envy kids like you with a natural talent for this stuff. Bet you’ve got plenty of girls swooning over you, huh?”

“This is just average,” Cen Xiao replied flatly. “It’s nothing compared to professionals.”

The coach chuckled. “Well, I wasn’t much of a student either, which is why I ended up as a shooting coach. This job pays well, you know. You could give it a shot in the future.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“If you don’t want to do it, then why are you practicing?”

Cen Xiao didn’t bother to continue the small talk. He returned the gun, grabbed his phone, and glanced at the screen.

[Song Yuanyuan: Hi! I heard from my mom that you’ll be at my coming-of-age party.]
[Song Yuanyuan: We haven’t really spoken before, but I used to see you often when I went looking for Li Rong.]
[Song Yuanyuan: Cen Xiao, have you picked your dance partner yet?]

Underneath her rambling messages was another notification:

[Li Rong from A High’s Experimental Class Group has requested to add you as a friend.]

Li Rong’s profile picture was a snowflake magnified under a microscope. Its shape was indescribable yet symmetrical and beautiful, a marvel of nature—pristine, translucent, and seemingly unattainable.

They say no two snowflakes are alike.

Ignoring Song Yuanyuan, Cen Xiao studied Li Rong’s friend request. His dark eyes grew deeper as his thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before pressing “Accept.”

A message arrived almost immediately.

[Li Rong: Song Yuanyuan asked you to be her dance partner.]

Once again, it wasn’t phrased as a question.

Li Rong rarely used interrogative sentences. When he believed something, he saw no need to waste time dancing around with uncertainty.

Cen Xiao saw the message but didn’t reply right away.

Setting his phone aside, he walked to the storage locker, retrieved his jacket, and threw it over his shoulders. When he returned and picked up the phone again, Li Rong had sent another message in the meantime:

[Li Rong: Don’t agree to it.]

Then came a retraction notification.

[Li Rong: Cen Cen, Xiao Xiao, dear desk mate, please don’t say yes~]

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