The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 67

The long street led to a nondescript, aged residential area in City A. The neighborhood had no enclosing walls, merely rudimentary iron railings marking its perimeter.

The area consisted of just four buildings, their architecture reminiscent of a style from four decades ago. The faded red paint on the walls had peeled away in places, replaced by a dull, grimy residue.

Each unit had square-paned windows, coated in layers of dust accumulated over years of neglect. The grime obscured any view inside, making curtains unnecessary. Some windows bore cracks, their fractures filled with dirt, yet no one seemed bothered enough to replace them.

The asphalt path winding into the neighborhood was uneven and cracked, its fissures snaking from the battered entry gate to the unit entrances, plastered with colorful, peeling advertisements.

Illegally constructed extensions abounded. On the ground floor, most units had been converted into small shops—fruit stalls, vegetable stands, and vendors selling roasted flatbreads, soy milk, and steamed buns.

With the sudden onset of warm weather, mosquitoes were emerging. A few sluggish flies buzzed around the fruits on display. The air was thick with a sour stench mingling with the faint sweetness of the produce, rising from puddles of unknown liquid pooling around the shops.

In stark contrast, the area around City A University was lined with recently built school-District residences, upscale apartments, and two bustling shopping malls, home to countless luxury brands.

This old neighborhood felt jarringly out of place amidst such modern surroundings. Its only redeeming features were its location within the school District and its convenient transportation links.

On Saturday morning, the shopkeepers had already lifted their shutters, filling the neighborhood with the aroma of food and the warmth of steam, which clung to the already dark walls in a misty haze.

Xu Tanghui, with one arm dangling limply by her side, struggled to pick out scraps of cardboard and plastic bottles still containing traces of liquid from a garbage bin, stuffing them into a fertilizer-labeled burlap sack.

Barely half-full, the sack was already taking a toll on her aging body. Straightening up, she leaned back as far as she could, hands pressed against her lower back, and gave it a firm rub.

But her movement inadvertently strained the torn muscle in her left arm. Xu Tanghui winced, raising her left shoulder slightly and waiting for the pain to subside before resuming.

She glanced at the contents of the sack. It wasn’t worth much. Sighing softly, she brushed her slightly curly short hair out of her face and sniffled.

Of course, she had cried during this time. But she understood too well—tears solved nothing. Crying couldn’t bring her any help.

Vulnerability and grievances were for herself alone. Strangers wouldn’t spare her even a passing glance.

Still, she didn’t regret her choices.

Her life had been centered stubbornly on one thing, and she had never considered giving up. People might see her as obstinate, even crazy, but she didn’t care. She lived for herself, not for others.

Even if she were to go through the same ordeal as a decade ago, she wouldn’t be defeated.

What was another round of hardship? She had grown numb to being hurt.

But Li Rong was different. He had a bright future ahead, grand dreams to pursue, and a determination to seek the truth. She couldn’t allow herself to drag him down.

She was willing to exhaust her remaining strength, doing what little she could for Professor Li, a gesture of her devotion.

She didn’t want Li Rong to seek her out or blame himself. This was as much as she could help. She could only hope that in the future, if Li Rong faced hardships again, there would be others like her who would extend a helping hand.

As her thoughts wandered, Xu Tanghui’s eyes grew warm once more. She took a deep breath, willing the tears back.

“Sister Hui, your hand still isn’t healed. You should stop working. I’ve got some used water bottles and cardboard at home—I’ll bring them to your door,” a woman called out.

Xu Tanghui quickly blinked back her tears, rubbing her reddened nose with a still-clean part of her hand before turning toward the voice with a gentle smile. “Heading out to set up your stall?”

The woman balanced her bicycle on one pedal, her young daughter perched on the back seat, fiddling with the springs beneath. The little girl swung back and forth, giggling at her game.

The woman’s bike basket had been enlarged and was crammed with items—phone cases, earphones, screen protectors, keychains, and other small goods.

She gave Xu Tanghui a quick look, immediately sensing she had been crying. Remembering the chaos of last month’s events, the woman sighed.

“Your arm… you really should have that security guard compensate you. Flipping over your stall and hitting you—who does that?”

Xu Tanghui waved her hand, her tone good-natured. “He didn’t push me on purpose. I just lost my footing and tripped over a wheel.”

The woman felt sorry for Xu Tanghui but was at a loss to help, shaking her head and sighing repeatedly, her face clouded with worry.

“If you ask me, you shouldn’t be so hung up on that decade-old mess. Sell this school-district apartment, take the money, and move back home to live peacefully. If you’d gone back earlier, you and your husband might not have divorced. You could’ve had kids in school by now. What’s worth all this trouble?”

Xu Tanghui lowered her gaze, her dirt-streaked fingers twitching slightly. She smiled shyly, steering the conversation away. “How’s your place selling?”

If she had been willing to leave, she would have left long ago.

The reason she stayed was because of the unresolved burden in her heart.

Hearing the question, the woman’s expression grew heavier, and she shook her head solemnly. “There’ve been a few interested buyers, but they’re all offering low prices. I didn’t accept. Sure, this neighborhood has its issues, but who knows? Maybe they’ll redevelop it in a few years—it still has potential.”

The little girl, too young to understand her mother’s worries, swung herself back on the bike seat and gave Xu Tanghui a sweet, radiant smile.

Xu Tanghui lifted her injured but clean left hand, stiffly waving at the little girl, and then asked the woman, “Do you still have enough medicine… for her?”

The woman hesitated for a moment and then gave a bitter smile. “Not much left. If I had enough, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to sell this house.”

Xu Tanghui tried to console her. “Maybe in a couple of years, it will be covered by insurance. Things will get better then.”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve looked into the news and even asked doctors. The development cost of Jiaketing is too high. The pharmaceutical company will need at least ten years to recover their investment. It won’t be covered before then. Now… there are still seven years to go. What can we do? The child needs it, and who knows if we can hold on until the price drops?”

About ten years ago, a bacterial premature aging syndrome had suddenly erupted across the country. The disease only affected children under six with weak immune systems. It was said to be caused by a bacteria capable of disrupting genes, leading to continuous hypothyroidism and irreversible aging in the patients.

The woman’s daughter was diagnosed with this disease. One day, she noticed her daughter’s skin becoming abnormally dehydrated, lacking the smoothness of a typical child’s. She rushed her to the hospital, and the diagnosis of bacterial premature aging syndrome was confirmed on the same day.

Currently, only one specific treatment existed—Jiaketing, developed by Suhe Biotech over seven years with a billion-yuan investment. 

The drug effectively suppressed premature aging, with one pill a week keeping patients as healthy as normal individuals. However, it could only manage the condition, not cure it, meaning patients needed to take it for life. Once the medication was stopped, aging would resume.

Due to its high development cost, Jiaketing was priced steeply, and not everyone could afford it. Over the years, numerous news reports had surfaced about children with the disease being abandoned. It wasn’t always because parents were heartless—sometimes, sending their children to welfare homes meant they might still have a chance to access the medication. Keeping them at home often led to despair.

The little girl had round, shiny black eyes, plump rosy lips, and a smile that was utterly adorable.

She took a big breath, puffed out her cheeks, and then, tilting her head back, blew forcefully at a little insect. The insect fled in a panic, making her giggle uncontrollably.

The woman sighed helplessly. “If only that Luyinxu wasn’t a scam. I really thought it was a miracle drug back then, but…”

Xu Tanghui’s ears pricked up at the mention of Lü Yinxu. She looked up sharply. “You mean the drug Professor Li developed?”

The woman sneered. “You’re probably the only one still calling him ‘Professor Li.’ When I heard his interview back then, I genuinely believed a cure had been developed. He sounded so confident, even guaranteeing it would be affordable for most people. Do you know how cruel it is to give people hope and then crush it?”

Xu Tanghui opened her mouth, wanting to defend Li Qingli, but as a friend, she understood the woman’s feelings.

Li Qingli had shown her kindness, and she was willing to trust and understand him. But she couldn’t expect everyone to feel the same.

The little girl, growing impatient, pressed her face against her mother’s back and rubbed vigorously, shouting, “Mommy, are we going or not?”

The woman glanced at the time. It was about time to head to the market. On weekends, there were more people at the plaza, so she might earn a bit more.

Mounting her bicycle, she pressed down on the bundle of goods in the basket and rested one foot on the pedal. “Sister Hui, I’m heading off now. Oh, by the way, a student came by a few days ago saying he knew you well and asked where you lived. He seemed decent, not like someone with ill intentions, so I told him.”

Xu Tanghui blinked, puzzled. “What student?”

The woman thought for a moment, unsure how to describe him, when the little girl piped up enthusiastically, “A handsome big brother! Long hair, big eyes.” She gestured to her neck, indicating what she thought counted as “long hair.”

Xu Tanghui’s expression shifted slightly.

The woman rode off, turning a corner, but she still waved back with one hand. “See you tonight, Sister Hui!”

Xu Tanghui stood there under the sun, clutching a bag of fertilizer. The dazzling sunlight made her eyes sting, and sweat dripped down her temples. Among the cries of street vendors, she suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure—Li Rong.

It was Li Rong’s first time in a neighborhood like this.

He walked with unflinching composure over piles of broken bricks and stepped over puddles of yellow-green stagnant water that reeked. Ignoring the hawkers’ shouts, he strode along the cracked asphalt road, brushing past the untrimmed willow branches that jutted out haphazardly, heading straight for Xu Tanghui.

Standing before her, his light-colored robe swayed gently in the breeze. Strands of his soft hair were tucked behind his ears, and his clear, bright eyes carried a calm, confident smile.

“Aunt Hui.” 

Xu Tanghui felt a pang in her chest, a dull ache rising in her throat. She chided him, equal parts anxious and angry, “What are you doing here, child?”

Li Rong’s gaze lowered to her swollen, reddened left hand. A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

“Did they do this to you?”

Xu Tanghui immediately hid her left hand behind her back, on the verge of tears. “Don’t worry about it. Auntie’s fine. It’s over now. They don’t have any evidence—they can’t do anything to me!”

“Can’t they?” Li Rong frowned, the folds of his brows deepening, anger smoldering in his clear eyes. “They wronged you, didn’t they? Then this isn’t over.”

Xu Tanghui fell silent. Warm tears slid down her wrinkled cheeks, past her dry, flushed face, and onto the dirt-covered ground littered with leaves.

Her reputation was what she valued most. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have kept running her stall at A University for over ten years.

Now, she had lost that reputation again. This time, she had prepared herself to give it up—for Li Rong’s sake.

She could endure being wronged, expelled from A University, and losing the only support she had relied on for a decade. Over the past month, she had steeled herself and made peace with it.

But now, Li Rong was telling her this wasn’t over, just because she had been wronged.

Li Rong stepped forward, gently wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. Then he took her rough, mud-stained right hand and said softly, “You won’t have to wait another ten years. We’ll strike back now.”