The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 9

As Cen Xiao prepared to leave, Xiao Muran was already asleep. Little Wu jumped out of its cat bed and silently approached him, its tail held high. The bright blue eyes stared at him with an unfriendly glint as it let out a sharp “meow,” as if accusing Cen Xiao of being the intruder when it had forced its way into the household just a week earlier.

Cen Xiao glanced down at the cat before taking a bag of saucy dried fish snacks from a transparent snack box in the living room.

The moment Little Wu saw the bag, its tail lowered, and it raised its head in an elegant yet impatient posture, even its meow turning soft and coquettish.

Cen Xiao tore the bag open and tossed it to the cat, watching it gleefully clutch the snack. He couldn’t resist murmuring, “You must share some bloodline with him.”

Little Wu, now occupied with its dried fish, ignored Cen Xiao entirely, leaping onto the sofa with the snack in its mouth.

Cen Xiao didn’t care how Xiao Muran would react to the mess on the couch the next day. After all, Xiao Muran would never blame the cat.

Li Rong laid sprawled on his bed like a salted fish, wrapped in a blanket, eyes closed for over half an hour. Then, suddenly, he opened them.

Would Cen Xiao know where he lived?

In his previous life, there had been a birthday when Cen Xiao, unusually cheerful, said he wanted to give him a gift.

Proud and stubborn, Li Rong had clung to his dignity, refusing to take Cen Xiao’s money or gifts, insisting they remain purely physical partners, without stepping into the unbearable realm of being someone’s possession.

But for some reason, Cen Xiao had been insistent that day.

Li Rong had almost fought him over it, but the gap in their physical strength left him no choice but to relent.

Cen Xiao made him lead the way to this house, which had been sold and resold several times by then and was up for sale again.

Years had passed, and though the house looked quite different, Cen Xiao bought it, had it renovated, and handed the keys to Li Rong.

“If you don’t want to see me, you can hide out here,” Cen Xiao had said. “For the sake of Li Qingli and Gu Nong, I won’t disturb you.”

Their relationship had been so strained, but those words had stirred something in Li Rong.

To him, the house meant little. What mattered were the people who were long gone, not an empty structure. But since Cen Xiao had gone out of his way, Li Rong had taken the keys.

True to his word, Cen Xiao had never set foot in the house.

Which meant the current Cen Xiao probably didn’t know the address. And he hadn’t even asked.

Li Rong sighed, lazily grabbing his nearly dead phone, intending to send the address.

But before he could hit “send,” the doorbell rang.

His fingers paused mid-typing.

Frowning, Li Rong climbed out of his warm blanket, descended the stairs, and shivered as the first-floor draft raised goosebumps on his skin.

He approached the door, bent slightly, and peeked through the peephole.

Cen Xiao stood outside.

Li Rong tilted his head slightly, pondering for a moment before opening the door.

This must be Cen Xiao’s first visit to his home.

Li Rong was dressed in oversized silk pajamas, arms folded, hands tucked into his sleeves, looking thin and aloof.

When Cen Xiao glanced up, he was met with Li Rong’s gaze—a bright, piercing stare, as if it could unravel all hidden secrets.

“What?” Cen Xiao asked, narrowing his eyes with a calm and unbothered expression, unaffected by Li Rong’s scrutiny.

“It’s nothing,” Li Rong replied, the icy demeanor on his face vanishing in an instant. He lazily curved his lips into a faint smile and, without a hint of hesitation, pressed the delete key. Hidden beneath the oversized sleeves of his pajamas, his fingers swiftly erased the half-typed address.

Before Li Rong could even invite him in, Cen Xiao sidestepped him and walked straight into the house.

Li Rong’s villa wasn’t large—Li Qingli and Gu Nong were never ones for extravagance. The ground floor only housed a living room, a study, and a small kitchen.

Cen Xiao’s gaze swept across the first floor briefly and landed on the dinner table, where the remnants of a cold meal were laid out.

Li Rong hadn’t eaten much. After being interrupted by Li Baishou, he had only managed three shrimp, one egg roll, and a few bites of fish belly.

Under the gentle glow of the room’s lighting, the two ugly, shattered holes in the glass windows were hard to miss. Through the dark gaps, the chilly night wind swept in, accompanied by insects drawn to the light.

Even before stepping inside, Cen Xiao had noticed the traces outside—the faint red paint smears still visible on the front door and the fragments of funeral wreaths scattered in the corners.

It was clear Li Rong hadn’t been having a peaceful time lately.

Without a word, Cen Xiao withdrew his gaze and found a spot on the sofa to sit. He looked up at Li Rong and asked bluntly, “Why were you looking for me?”

Li Rong put on an innocent expression and plopped himself onto the armrest of the sofa beside Cen Xiao. “Helping you cram for the exam, of course. Trying to earn some extra cash. I’m pretty broke right now.”

The leather sofa dipped slightly under his weight, causing the armrest to shift inward and brushing against Cen Xiao’s arm.

“I don’t need tutoring, and I couldn’t care less about the mock exam results,” Cen Xiao replied flatly.

“Come on, how can you say no to one-on-one tutoring from the top student?” Li Rong teased, leaning closer.

As he did, a faint, soft scent of shower gel wafted over.

The two were sitting very close—close enough to feel each other’s presence. 

Li Rong’s hair, now long enough to graze his nape, curled slightly at the ends. His pale neck peeked out from beneath the silky black strands, the skin almost luminous under the light.

Out of habit, Li Rong sat with his back straight, even while casually perched on the armrest, one leg swinging lazily. Through the thin silk of his pajamas, the outline of his lean frame and even his spine were faintly visible. But at least, he looked healthier than a week ago—his complexion rosier, and his meals more substantial.

Cen Xiao knew that if he simply raised his arm, he could encircle Li Rong’s waist.

And Li Rong knew it too.

But Cen Xiao neither moved nor pushed Li Rong away. 

Instead, the two lingered in this close proximity, breathing in the faint traces of each other’s scent, making idle chatter.

Finally, Cen Xiao could no longer tolerate the subtle tension in the air. He made a move to stand. “If you’re not going to say anything, I’m leaving.”

“Hey!” Li Rong suddenly reached out and grabbed Cen Xiao’s forearm.

His fingers, long and slender from years of piano practice, were delicately shaped, the nails neatly trimmed. Even the pale knuckles looked pleasing to the eye.

“There’s some shrimp on the table that’s really good. Want to try—”

“I don’t like seafood,” Cen Xiao interrupted, his gaze fixed on the hand gripping his arm, the look in his eyes deep and unreadable.

“But it’s really good. Just… a bit cold and fishy now.” Li Rong’s eyes drifted longingly toward the table before settling on the shattered windows.

The shards of glass still littered the floor, untouched. Li Rong hadn’t cleaned them up. He hadn’t received any updates from the police yet, and there was no telling when—or if—the intruder might return.

Cen Xiao followed his gaze briefly, then pulled his arm free and stood.

He walked over to the table, picked up the shrimp and fish, and carried them into the kitchen.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that the microwave had been smashed—likely from the rough handling during an earlier search. The microwave had fallen on the induction cooker, breaking it as well. Other than a small oven, none of the appliances were functional.

Li Rong wasn’t completely helpless in daily life. If he could reheat the food himself, he would have already done it. There was no need to goad Cen Xiao into helping.

Cen Xiao put down the food without a word. His patience had its limits, and this wasn’t the type of problem he liked to solve.

He took a simpler approach: ordering fresh food.

“What a waste. I don’t have that much money,” Li Rong said, looking regretfully at the leftovers decisively discarded by Ceng Xiao.

Ceng Xiao raised an eyebrow—there was no way he could miss the hint in Li Rong’s words.

“You want to borrow money? Sure, on one condition,” Ceng Xiao said.

Li Rong: “?”

Li Rong looked into Ceng Xiao’s eyes, taking in the uncompromising expression on his face. Finally, he let out a self-mocking smile.

“Alright, I don’t really have a choice, do I? Whatever you say, I’ll agree to it. Don’t you think that question was completely unnecessary?” Li Rong muttered as he crossed his arms, his casual demeanor making it seem like he was just checking boxes to get to the shrimp.

The more fearless Li Rong acted, the louder the alarms rang in Ceng Xiao’s mind.

Li Rong’s nonchalant attitude had a reckless edge, and it wasn’t a sign of a healthy mindset.

“I’ll tell you the condition later,” Ceng Xiao finally said.

Li Rong nodded quickly. “Got it.”

Ceng Xiao could tell that what Li Rong “got” and what he had in mind were entirely different things, but he didn’t bother correcting him.

Letting Li Rong misunderstand this way wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“My window,” Li Rong added, now that things were laid bare. He didn’t bother hiding his thoughts.

“Find someone to replace it yourself.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Li Rong said seriously.

After a few seconds of silence, Ceng Xiao said in an even tone, “It won’t happen again. No one will bother you anymore.”

How he would ensure that, he didn’t elaborate on, and Li Rong didn’t ask.

“Alright,” Li Rong replied with a nod, his expression relaxing.

Li Rong had some understanding of the methods and influence behind Blue Pivot, but he didn’t know everything—nor did he want to know about the darker, less respectable parts.

It was interesting, though, that Ceng Xiao would make such a promise, considering that as far as Li Rong knew, Ceng Xiao wasn’t even officially part of Blue Pivot yet.

Soon, the freshly boiled prawns arrived, and as the lid was lifted, a cloud of steam rose into the air.

Li Rong wrapped himself in his jacket and returned to the dining table, sitting down and lowering his gaze as he calmly began peeling shrimp.

The prawns were still hot. After peeling one, his fingertips turned red from the heat, and the broth dripped along his fingers into the creases of his hand, glistening under the light.

Li Rong held the shrimp by its tail, dipped it into the sauce, and before the sauce could drip, he quickly stuffed it into Ceng Xiao’s mouth.

Caught off guard, Ceng Xiao instinctively bit down, the surprise flashing across his face for a moment.

Li Rong glanced at him, then lowered his eyes again and continued peeling shrimp. In a calm, casual tone, he said, “See? If you treat me well, I’ll treat you well too.”

His voice was soft, almost like a murmur, but it carried a rare sincerity and warmth.

Ceng Xiao didn’t like seafood, but Li Rong was right—the shrimp was delicious.

Author’s note:

 Ceng Xiao: I don’t like seafood…

 Me: Your wife is being sweet for once. Eat it, even if it makes you cry!