The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 61

When the last class ended, Li Rong whisked Cen Xiao away from Lin Zhen and Jian Fu and brought him to a Vietnamese restaurant.

The decor was charming. Upstairs, there were small private booths with hanging curtains, each accommodating up to four people. Inside was a wooden long table with swing chairs. A dim yellow light hung above the table, casting a gentle, cozy glow that made the room feel slightly dark when viewed from the outside.

On the table sat a small succulent plant in a pot. Before the food arrived, the waiter brought over a bottle of cucumber lemon water.

Cen Xiao ran his fingers over the table, verifying that it had been thoroughly cleaned before pulling out a wet wipe to clean his hands.

“Why Vietnamese food?” he asked.

He had assumed that if Li Rong was intent on celebrating his birthday, he would’ve chosen something he liked, such as Sichuan cuisine or hot pot. 

Vietnamese food was relatively niche, with only a few well-known restaurants in A City.

Li Rong leaned back against his swing chair, one foot pressed against the table’s edge. He gave a slight push, causing the swing to creak as it swayed gently.

The restaurant seemed to have been around for a while, and the swings weren’t particularly sturdy. Though Li Rong wasn’t heavy, the chair still made faint groaning noises.

Li Rong chuckled confidently, “Of course, because I like light dishes like this.”

Cen Xiao rested his arms on the table, his gaze calm and steady as he watched Li Rong.

Li Rong was dressed in a long white coat with the buttons undone, revealing a plain T-shirt underneath. At first glance, the coat resembled a lab coat worn by researchers.

Cen Xiao’s eyes traveled upward to Li Rong’s neck, pausing for a moment on his prominent Adam’s apple before curving his lips into a faint smile. “It’s my birthday, yet you’re not holding back.”

Not that it bothered him—he was long accustomed to accommodating Li Rong’s preferences. Besides, Li Rong’s choices were indeed healthier than his own.

In fact, Cen Xiao enjoyed Li Rong’s unapologetic attitude. It made the person in front of him feel alive, vibrant, and utterly unrestrained.

Li Rong smiled silently, leisurely swaying on the swing. His soft hair swayed with his movements, his arm resting on the back of the chair as his fingers idly tapped.

Before long, the server brought their dishes to the table.

It was a plate of vibrantly colored, elegantly presented spring rolls. Traditional spring rolls are prepared by the diners themselves: the wrapper is softened with water, then filled with fresh shrimp, herbs, and vegetables before being dipped in sauce.

Cen Xiao stared at the spring roll wrappers in front of him, momentarily lost in thought.

Li Rong suddenly steadied the swing with a push, his gaze flickering as he looked at Cen Xiao. “I don’t think I’ve said happy birthday to you yet.”

Cen Xiao’s Adam’s apple tightened, and his palms grew slightly clammy.

The word “birthday” rarely appeared in his life. As a child, he didn’t even know people celebrated birthdays. When he grew older and saw others having birthday parties, he asked Cen Qing and Xiao Muran why he didn’t have one.

His question was like a lit fuse, igniting Xiao Muran’s long-repressed anger.

Instead of answering him, she started arguing with Cen Qing.

Being intellectuals, they only used words to fight. Yet, even so, it left a deep, unpleasant impression on Cen Xiao.

He stood aside, quietly watching his parents’ furious argument, feeling the oppressive atmosphere that was all too familiar in the vast villa.

No one mentioned that it was his birthday—it wasn’t something worth celebrating in the first place.

After a prolonged quarrel filled with shouting and insults, both stormed off to their respective rooms, slamming the doors. Neither emerged for the rest of the day.

Cen Xiao believed he matured quickly and recognized the reality of his family early on.

Just once was enough for him to understand that celebrating his birthday was unnecessary. Only children whose births were eagerly anticipated by their parents could truly enjoy the happiness of a birthday.

But no matter how mature someone is, it’s hard to escape the shadows cast by their original family. Cen Xiao was no exception.

Every year on this day, he would instinctively feel restless, disgusted, and suffocated, as if reliving those familiar scenes—ears filled with incessant arguments, cries, and the sound of objects breaking.

The dim living room, the cold kitchen, the dripping faucet—all the tiny details enveloped him like a heavy stone pressing on his chest.

He merely had to endure the day in silence. By the next, Xiao Muran and Cen Qing would return to normal, resuming their roles as the high-ranking chair of the business association and the erudite historian.

Eventually, he came to understand that his very existence was what they resented.

Suppressing the agitation in his heart, Cen Xiao maintained his composure in front of Li Rong.

He poured himself a glass of cucumber lemon water with ice, taking two large gulps.

The chill traveled down his esophagus to his stomach, seemingly dousing some of his negative emotions. It had been a long time since he felt so repressed. Even so, he forced a smile. “Thank you for remembering.”

Li Rong prided himself on his sharp perception. He was too clever, easily seeing through anyone’s facade—yet for some reason, he could never quite read Cen Xiao.

Just like in their past life, during those two years, he missed so many of Cen Xiao’s genuine emotions.

Or perhaps he saw them but chose not to believe.

Li Rong pressed his lips together lightly, his gaze lowering. He dipped a lotus leaf in water, letting it moisten the gossamer-thin spring roll wrapper.

Once the wrapper softened, he carefully filled it with the stuffing and rolled it up.

Through the delicate, translucent wrapper, the vibrant colors of the filling were visible. Dipped in the golden-yellow sauce, it looked irresistibly appetizing.

It was something he would have liked.

That night, why hadn’t he noticed? The spring rolls Cen Xiao brought back were ones he would have liked.

He hadn’t been forcing him to celebrate his birthday. He had believed his excuse about working late, knowing his stomach problems could flare up and fearing he’d go hungry. So he had thoughtfully brought him a late-night snack.

Spring rolls were perfect—they wouldn’t lose their flavor even after sitting for a while.

It didn’t matter when he came back; Cen Xiao would be there waiting at the dining table.

Even in a drunken haze, he could still consider his needs so thoroughly.

The night he had tried so hard to avoid held such precious meaning.

Li Rong suddenly stood up, stepping out from between the chair slats and walking over to Cen Xiao.

He placed his right hand on the table and his left on the back of Cen Xiao’s chair, speaking softly. “These are spring rolls, that’s a small yellow light, and the night is dark. The streetlights are dim, and the shop isn’t in a busy area, so there are few people around.”

Just like that night.

Li Rong paused, his eyelids trembling twice, his Adam’s apple gently bobbing.

“Today is your birthday. I’ll spend it with you.”

With that, he pressed a hand on Cen Xiao’s shoulder, knelt on one knee on the swing, leaned forward, and captured Cen Xiao’s lips.

It felt as if he were transported back to that night, when he hadn’t rejected the drunken Cen Xiao and had spent a belated yet joyful birthday with him.

A cool breeze stirred the soft curtains, and the quiet light stretched their entwined shadows across the floor.

As Li Rong’s gentle breaths brushed against him, Cen Xiao’s muscles tensed, and his palms grew hot and damp.

Li Rong’s kiss was delicate and tender, yet not clumsy. He lightly traced the outline of Cen Xiao’s lips, teasing and savoring, controlling the rhythm of their breaths.

The tips of their eyelashes and strands of their hair intertwined, occasionally lifted by the warm breeze. Under the glow of the small yellow light, their fragmented shadows danced and shimmered.

The swing chair creaked under the weight of both of them, swaying lightly. Li Rong lost his balance and had no choice but to lean all his weight onto Cen Xiao’s shoulders, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck.

“Kiss me.” Li Rong closed his eyes, pressed his forehead against Cen Xiao’s, and impatiently commanded.