The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 70

Cen Xiao’s hand tightened, and with a slight turn, he pulled Li Rong into his arms.

Li Rong pressed against his chest, lips twitching as he suppressed a laugh. They were so close now that Li Rong felt one of them only had to move forward an inch to kiss the other’s lips.

Cen Xiao’s eyes darkened, his fingers brushing over the gaps between Li Rong’s fingers as he murmured in a voice only they could hear, “Are you assuming I won’t do anything?”

Li Rong met his gaze, his teeth lightly grazing his lower lip before he spoke mischievously after a brief silence. “No, I’m giving you permission to do something.”

Cen Xiao’s gaze lingered on Li Rong’s flushed lips as he struggled to suppress the urge in his chest.

He wasn’t sure what Li Rong’s definition of “permission” entailed. He feared that crossing any line might shatter the delicate fantasy they shared.

Restraint flickered in Cen Xiao’s eyes before his gaze softened. Eventually, he raised his hand and gently traced Li Rong’s lip line. “Understood.”

Li Rong blinked, momentarily stunned.

He’d thought Cen Xiao might steal a kiss when he least expected it or at least react with some impulsive desire.

But no—Cen Xiao was more restrained than he’d anticipated, turning what was clearly a flirtation into an act of tenderness.

Before he could say anything, both their phones buzzed.

To facilitate communication, they hadn’t muted the notifications in their small group chat. As soon as someone said something, their phones chimed in tandem.

As usual, it was Jian Fu who had the most to say.

[Jian Fu: Hey, hey, hey, comrades, I’ve set up Aunt Hui’s online store!]

[Lin Zhen: Uh… Jian Fu wants me to model. I’ve never done a photoshoot before. Not sure if I’ll be any good.]

[Jian Fu: You’re going to be a future celebrity. You have to learn how to present products, got it?]

[Lin Zhen: Class monitor]

[Jian Fu: Tsk, why do you keep asking Li Rong? Just tell me, isn’t my idea brilliant? Every online store needs models—it’s called visual branding, okay?]

[Lin Zhen: Fine…]

[Ji Xiaochuan: I’ll handle the photography!]

[Jian Fu: Focus on the scarf and hat! Stop taking so many pictures of his face…]

[Ji Xiaochuan: You don’t get it—faces are the key. It’s called eye-catching appeal. Look at all the celebrities people follow; their photos are just like this.]

[Jian Fu: Uh… but does he really need to show that much neck?]

[Ji Xiaochuan: Lin Zhen’s collarbone looks great! Showing it off is a selling point. Don’t believe me? Ask the two of them.]

[Lin Zhen: Class rep… save me!]

The atmosphere between Li Rong and Cen Xiao, already disrupted, was now completely derailed. They each glanced at their phones, scrolled through the long, meaningless chatter, and finally, in unison, silenced notifications from the group chat.

Three days later, under A University’s relentless prodding, the police finally found someone resembling Cen Xiao’s description.

The suspect was named Huang Baikang, a 30-year-old drifter who had previously served time for theft the year before. Since his release, he had worked washing cars and had no further criminal record.

The composite sketch matched his appearance, but it wasn’t definitive proof.

However, just as the police were planning to take Li Rong and Cen Xiao to identify him, Huang Baikang voluntarily turned himself in.

Dressed in a grimy tank top, his skin was rough and peeling from a winter of harsh winds. He looked haggard and worn, his drooping eyes and upward-slanted pupils giving off an unintentional air of menace.

Yet, Huang Baikang rubbed his coarse hands together, hunched over, and offered an ingratiating smile to the police and the department head.

When he spoke, his teeth showed the dark stains of years of smoking, and his cracked lips were pale.

“It’s me. What’s written here is about me.”

He pulled a crumpled missing-persons flyer from his pocket, torn from a utility pole. It lacked a photo and merely described the incident, ending with a bold, prominently displayed reward of ten thousand yuan.

The department head: “…”

Snatching the flyer, the department head scanned it, his brow furrowing as his breathing grew heavy.

Sure enough, just as that spoiled student had said, offering money worked faster than the police ever could.

The flyer had been his last-ditch effort under immense pressure from above. With no better options, he’d tried everything he could think of.

The department head growled, “You…”

But Huang Baikang’s eyes widened, and he impatiently asked, “Who’s paying the money?”

A police officer snorted coldly. “You’re still thinking about the reward? Do you realize this counts as breaking and entering, blackmail, and extortion? If you hadn’t come forward today, you’d have lost your chance to turn yourself in.”

Panicking, Huang Baikang took two steps back. “I-I-I didn’t do anything! I just wanted some compensation for my trouble! How was I supposed to know those kids were so rich they’d just hand me the money? How is that extortion? Bring them here; I want to confront them!”

The police officer’s words were more for intimidation. Someone like Huang Baikang was no more than a petty rogue, adept at stirring up minor trouble but incapable of causing real harm. Cornering him too much might provoke retaliation against the two students, which was the last thing anyone wanted.

Besides, the students hadn’t even intended to file a report. If not for A University’s insistence, this matter would’ve been long forgotten.

The officer said, “Listen up. Be honest and cooperate, and based on your behavior, we’ll decide how to handle this.”

Swallowing hard, Huang Baikang rubbed his hands against his filthy pants. The tension in his neck caused a pale streak to stand out against his skin. “What do you want me to confess?”

The officer glanced at the department head, signaling him to ask what he needed to know.

Taking a deep breath, the department head looked around to ensure no one else was nearby before speaking. “Did you give Li Qingli’s son a manuscript?”

Huang Baikang looked utterly baffled and asked defensively, “Who’s Li Qingli?”

The department head coughed. “…The house you broke into that night.”

Still clueless, Huang Baikang asked, “What’s a manuscript?”

Grinding his teeth, the department head suppressed his anger. “The file folder—the thing you delivered. It contained a manuscript!”

Huang Baikang leaned nonchalantly against the wall and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what it was. I just delivered the thing. Didn’t even open it. I felt it up—it wasn’t money, that’s all I know.”

The department head had already guessed that Huang Baikang was just a delivery guy. The police had shown him Huang’s record earlier: he only had a primary school education.

Even if given ten years, Huang couldn’t have helped Li Rong write that thesis.

The department head pressed on. “Who gave you that manuscript? What did they say? What was their purpose?”

Huang Baikang eyed the department head warily, then glanced at the police officer before muttering, “Who are you, man? Where are those two kids?”

The officer said, “This is a representative from A University. The thing you delivered is related to their school. Be honest and tell us everything you know.”

Seeing his reward slipping away and annoyed by the department head’s superior demeanor, Huang Baikang lost enthusiasm.

“Heh, how would I know who it was? Someone near the detention center hired me. They gave me a few hundred yuan to secretly deliver the thing to a villa. I’d just gotten out and was broke, so I agreed.”

The department head tensed as the shadow of a potential mastermind began to take shape. “You remember this person, right?”

Huang Baikang chuckled cynically. “Nope.”

The police officer’s brow furrowed. “Don’t play games. Cooperate honestly!”

Looking aggrieved, Huang Baikang slapped his thighs dramatically. “I swear, I don’t remember! The guy wore a mask and a hat—clearly didn’t want to be recognized. I wasn’t curious enough to ask.”

The department head frowned even deeper.

This person clearly took every precaution to remain anonymous, even when delegating tasks.

What connection did they have to A University and the Hongsuo Research Institute?

And why were they orchestrating such covert actions?

“Was that manuscript taken from the sealed investigation files?”

Officer: “Where did you meet him? Let me confirm.”

Huang Baikang lazily swung his neck and slouched past the department head, reluctantly following the officer to a computer. His face scrunched up in thought, and he mumbled, “Hmm… near the detention center, in one of those old urban villages. What’s it called… Kangnang Alley?”

That part of the city was underdeveloped, with limited surveillance—a clear indication that the other party had prepared carefully, intentionally concealing their movements.

Retrieving footage from several months ago in Kangnang Alley would take time, and even after the laborious process, there was no guarantee it would prove criminal activity.

If A University hadn’t insisted, the police would’ve dropped the matter long ago.

Officer: “Do you remember any distinct features about him that would make it easier for us to spot him in the surveillance?”

Huang tilted his head, furrowed his brows, and strained to recall. After much effort, he still offered nothing useful.

The department head, unable to hide his disdain, impatiently said, “I can offer you some compensation. Now, speak.”

Huang Baikang caught the subtle scorn in the man’s expression. He was all too familiar with such a look—an air of superiority that oozed from every pore, even when no words were spoken.

Huang Baikang wasn’t a good person by any measure, and he didn’t care much about helping those two students. Yet, unlike this department head, the students hadn’t looked at him with such contempt.

Between cold intimidation and blatant disdain, the latter repulsed him more.

Straightening his slightly hunched back, Huang Baikang smirked, lifted his chin, and said, “Let me think… That guy was wearing a black trench coat with the collar turned up, all bundled up real tight. He was pretty heavy, must’ve weighed at least 170 pounds. Not very tall—half a head shorter than me. He was mostly covered, but I did see some gray hair. He’s probably not young; judging by his voice, I’d say maybe 40 or 50?

“Oh, and he had a slight southern accent. I’m not sure where exactly, but he seemed refined, like someone educated.”

The officer glanced at the department head, who remained silent.

Huang Baikang’s description wasn’t particularly unique. At A University alone, there were plenty of professors who matched the profile, not to mention those at the Hongsuo Research Institute.

Still, the information could narrow the pool of suspects, lightening the workload for subsequent investigations.

The department head had only recently learned that Li Rong had been offered direct admission to A University. If the person behind this was connected to A University, they would inevitably cross paths with Li Rong.

The principal had emphasized the sensitivity of the Li Qingli case. Every piece of information related to it had to be handled with the utmost care.

A University had to play the dual role of a neutral observer and the balancing weight on the scale, ensuring no one used the institution to stir up chaos.

Huang Baikang shrugged, then repeated something Cen Xiao had instructed him to say: “I didn’t see his face, but I’ll never forget his eyes. If I see him again, I’ll recognize him.”