The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 83

A University had eight dining halls, the closest to the dormitory area being Cunyuan. The prices there were relatively high, catering primarily to the nearby faculty and their families.

After all, during normal lunch and dinner times, most students would be near the academic buildings or the library.

Walking through A University’s campus again, Li Rong gazed at the ancient trees lining the roads, the posters promoting student entrepreneurial projects, and the bustling clubs rehearsing for the freshmen’s evening gala. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of surrealism.

It was as if returning to high school this past year had been a beautiful and peaceful dream—one that made up for all his regrets and brought new vitality to his stagnant life.

Jian Fu, unable to stay idle, wandered around the streets, circling Li Rong, Cen Xiao, and Ji Xiaochuan.

“Hey, don’t you think it feels a bit strange? Like someone’s missing,” Jian Fu remarked, smacking his lips as if savoring the thought.

He couldn’t quite put his feelings into words. Back in high school, they had always been five. Even though Lin Zhen had gone from being cautious and sensitive to frequently rolling his eyes at him, he had still grown used to having him around.

Lin Zhen had allowed him to sling his arm over his shoulders, allowed him to sneak up behind him and bear-hug him, and willingly gone indoor skiing with him, falling seven or eight times without getting upset. Where else in the world could you find such a great friend?

It wasn’t that Cen Xiao wasn’t good company, but he was far more mature, and his interests often didn’t align with Jian Fu’s.

Ji Xiaochuan nodded thoughtfully, a touch of melancholy in her voice. “Yeah, I kind of… miss Lin Zhen. I wonder how he’s doing at the film academy. He’s probably meeting… loads of beautiful female classmates.”

Over the summer, Ji Xiaochuan had slimmed down significantly and changed her hairstyle, revealing a smooth forehead. She had also swapped her heavy, black-framed glasses for lighter, silver-rimmed ones.

Her nearsightedness wasn’t severe, and although she needed glasses for the blackboard in high school, she could manage without them on the street.

Her eyes were quite pretty—classic almond-shaped eyes, round and full of youthful innocence.

Without her thick bangs and timid demeanor, Ji Xiaochuan could even be considered a beauty. Of course, her makeover owed much to Lin Zhen’s increasingly refined sense of fashion.

Jian Fu wasn’t too pleased with her remark. “So what if there are beauties? He didn’t go to film school to date them.”

Ji Xiaochuan blinked. “I didn’t say… he’d date anyone. The film academy has… scriptwriting and directing majors too, lots of talented girls there. Lin Zhen’s kind of… gentle vibe should attract senior girls.”

“No way. He said he wanted to hold massive concerts one day. If he dates, he’ll never become famous.” Jian Fu’s mood worsened the more he thought about it.

The idea of Lin Zhen dating, spending all his time with a girlfriend—eating together, attending classes together, leaving no time for their group—irritated Jian Fu so much that he lost his appetite.

Ji Xiaochuan added, “But as a singer… dating isn’t a problem, right? It’s only idols who can’t.”

Jian Fu replied, “…Whatever. He said he wouldn’t date.”

Lin Zhen had indeed promised him.

That day, Jian Fu had dragged Lin Zhen to go skiing. After his sixth tumble down the slope, Lin Zhen finally lost patience, sat on the ground, and refused to continue.

Lin Zhen had originally planned to learn properly and even set aside money for a professional coach.

But Jian Fu had insisted he could teach him and wouldn’t let him hire a coach.

Two hours later, Lin Zhen realized Jian Fu couldn’t teach at all.

Jian Fu would always show off how good he was at skiing in front of Lin Zhen, drawing Lin’s attention while making him lose his balance and tumble down the slope.

Jian Fu: “Get up and ski already.”

Lin Zhen, annoyed, replied, “You ski your own, don’t bother me.”

Jian Fu teased, “Tsk, skiing’s great for impressing girls, you know. Someday, when you…”

He meant that skiing would be a useful skill for Lin Zhen, especially as a future celebrity—it could charm fans.

But Lin Zhen misunderstood. He looked up suddenly, stared at Jian Fu for a few seconds, and said quietly, “I’m not planning on getting a girlfriend yet.”

Jian Fu raised his brows slightly, feeling an inexplicable joy. He didn’t bother clarifying the misunderstanding and just smirked: “Oh, so you’re not looking for a girlfriend, huh.”

…

The more Jian Fu thought about it, the more he felt a strange emptiness inside.

He convinced himself it was just his strong sense of team spirit. It wouldn’t feel right if anyone was missing from their little group.

Li Rong glanced at him and said, “It’s a twenty-minute cab ride from A University to the Film Academy. If you miss Lin Zhen so much, why not go see him? Soak up some artistic vibes while you’re at it.”

Jian Fu immediately retorted, “Who says I miss him? And anyway, what’s so great about the Film Academy? It’s not even half the size of A University and only has a 60-year history.”

Li Rong pulled two yogurt sticks from his pocket, handed one to Ji Xiaochuan, and unwrapped the other. Biting into it, he said meaningfully, “Hmm, nothing much to see at the Film Academy, yet you know its size and history by heart?”

Among their group, only Ji Xiaochuan shared Li Rong’s love for sugary treats. Jian Fu found this brand too sweet, Lin Zhen avoided high-sugar foods to maintain his figure, and Cen Xiao simply didn’t like sweets.

However, while Cen Xiao didn’t like sweets, he had a particular fondness for their taste on Jian Fu’s lips. When they kissed, Cen Xiao seemed to enjoy the sweetness after all.

Jian Fu froze, stumbling over his words: “I… I mean, I’ve lived in A City for years… And, uh, I once…”

Cen Xiao shook his head and said to Jian Fu, “Enough, you’re not going to win this one.”

Jian Fu: “…”

He gave up. Sure, he’d specifically looked up the Film Academy, but so what? He was just curious.

Cunyuan’s restaurant had four floors, each offering a different type of cuisine. By now, the place was packed with students.

Ji Xiaochuan glanced around and asked, “So… which floor are we going to?”

Li Rong: “Second floor.”

Cen Xiao: “Second floor.”

Jian Fu: “Why???”

He was startled by their synchronicity—neither had even stopped to think!

Ji Xiaochuan was equally surprised. “Did you guys read up on the cafeteria reviews beforehand?”

The Village Garden’s floors had distinct reputations:

The first floor served heavy, greasy, salty dishes. The best-selling item there was bottled water.

The third floor had small, expensive portions with inconsistent quality, and it was self-service with notoriously rude staff.

The fourth floor offered hotpot, but it couldn’t compare to restaurants outside. The environment was mediocre, with big round tables mostly used for group gatherings.

The second floor, however, was the hidden gem. The chefs were hired from outside restaurants, their skills top-notch, and the prices surprisingly affordable.

Li Rong nonchalantly said, “I like the number two.”

Cen Xiao smirked and played along: “Don’t you guys read food review blogs?”

Jian Fu shook his head. “Never.”

Ji Xiaochuan added, “Me neither.”

Cen Xiao concluded, “Well, the second floor’s the best.”

Trusting the instincts of their group’s two key figures, they headed straight for the second floor.

Though it was crowded, they managed to find an empty table.

As Jian Fu looked up, he noticed a massive sign at the first stall on the floor.

“Look at that Boiling Fish stall. The promo picture looks pretty tempting. Should we try it?”

Ji Xiaochuan hesitated. “I…”

Li Rong: “No.”

Cen Xiao: “Nope.”

Jian Fu was dumbfounded. “???”

He couldn’t understand.

Li Rong hadn’t expected to end up speaking in unison with Cen Xiao so many times, which made them seem oddly synchronized.

Clearing his throat, Li Rong explained, “I’m just not in the mood for fish.”

Cen Xiao added, “That stall’s usually empty. It’s probably not good.”

In truth, the fish wasn’t bad, but the scales were often poorly cleaned, a flaw that had drawn endless complaints from students.

Li Rong suggested, “Let’s each get what we want. You guys go grab your food; I’ll watch the table.” Then, naturally, he tugged on Cen Xiao’s sleeve. “I want shrimp wontons.”

Without hesitation, Ji Xiaochuan and Jian Fu left their belongings and went off to find food.

Cen Xiao stood up, gently patted Li Rong’s back, and headed straight to the stall selling wontons.

Li Rong, bored, waited at the table, scrolling through his phone.

After arriving on campus, a welcoming teacher had added them to the freshman group chat for the biochemistry department. The group’s announcement section included introductions for each class’s advisor.

The descriptions were, of course, full of praise, but Li Rong knew better than to take them at face value.

He absentmindedly refreshed the announcements repeatedly, his gaze fixed on the name Zhang Zhaohe.

If not for seeing him at his parents’ funeral, Li Rong might never have paid this person any attention.

How could someone lack ambition so much that they’d fail to achieve even an associate professor title after decades?

At A University, the competition among teachers was fierce. Those hired to teach often held overseas doctoral degrees, making them top-tier talents. Who would willingly play second fiddle in a place full of elite peers?

In such an environment, stagnation meant falling behind. Zhang Zhaohe’s reputation for mediocrity was well-known, not only among students who complained about him behind his back but likely also among colleagues who couldn’t resist derision during idle chatter.

The psychological pressure from such an environment wasn’t something the average person could endure.

“Hey classmate, what’s your major?”

A sweet female voice suddenly interrupted Li Rong’s thoughts.

Putting his phone down, he looked up.

Standing before him was a well-dressed girl whose perfume wafted in with her presence.

Li Rong didn’t mind the scent of perfume, but the mix of it with the aroma of food wasn’t exactly pleasant.

After a brief pause, he replied, “Biochemistry.”

The girl nervously clenched her fingers, her face already flushed before she even spoke. “What a coincidence! I’m in biochemistry too. Can we exchange contacts?”

Li Rong: “…”

In his previous life, he would have coldly refused without the slightest guilt.

But now, perhaps because the darker corners of his heart had lightened, he wasn’t as detached.

Although adding a fellow student as a contact seemed natural, he knew she was trying to flirt.

Just then, Cen Xiao returned with the shrimp wontons, along with a cup of sago dessert for Li Rong.

From afar, Cen Xiao noticed the girl standing by Li Rong’s table, her gaze filled with anticipation.

The girl was quite pretty and likely confident, as evidenced by her boldness in asking for Li Rong’s contact information.

Yet, Cen Xiao could feel a surge of possessiveness welling up inside him. He disliked anyone coveting Li Rong.

Such a beautiful, vibrant, and resilient treasure—he needed Li Rong to belong solely to him.

This possessiveness had defined his actions in their previous life, but now he worked hard to suppress these unruly thoughts.

He wasn’t a good person, but he needed to act like one.

Cen Xiao lowered his eyes and calmly walked toward Li Rong, maintaining his composure.

He had to give Li Rong complete freedom, that’s because Li Rong liked that.

Li Rong hadn’t noticed Cen Xiao approaching amidst the cafeteria’s noise.

Before Cen Xiao could say a word, he heard Li Rong, with a smile, gently tell the girl, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.”