The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 95

“You’ve seen it, Aunt Hui?” Li Rong and Cen Xiao both looked surprised.

Both of them, one a former youngest research group leader at the Hongsuo Research Institute, the other the actual ruler of District Three’s Blue Pivot United Commerce Association, had no memory of the emblem Zhang Zhaohe exposed.

Li Rong had assumed that the emblem’s significance laid beyond their current spheres of influence. Yet Xu Tanghui claimed to have encountered it.

Her only distinguishing trait compared to them was her long tenure at A University.

In her early years managing the school laboratory, Xu Tanghui had been falsely accused and dismissed. Since then, she had been running a stall at the square. Thanks to Li Qingli’s help, she gained access to A University’s library and computer lab—places that weren’t particularly restricted.

Had they gotten it wrong?

Jian Fu speculated, “Could it be something she saw in the library?”

Lin Zhen added, “If it’s the library, it’ll be tough to pinpoint. Isn’t A University’s library famously vast?”

Xu Tanghui hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. “Give me some time to think it over. It’s been too long; I need to sort it out.”

Li Rong reassured her, “Alright, no rush. Take your time.”

This wasn’t an urgent matter. Since Zhang Zhaohe seemed intent on letting him find out, sooner or later, he’d come forward with the truth.

But if they waited for Zhang Zhaohe to speak up, they might lose their advantage.

Li Rong tapped the table and turned to Jian Fu. “When you have time, look into a guy named Song He—he’s another one of my roommates.”

Jian Fu raised an eyebrow. “What are we investigating? Don’t tell me both of your roommates are tied to this?”

Li Rong smirked. “He’s probably just a minor player, but I hate the feeling of being watched.”

Jian Fu shrugged. “Alright.”

By now, he was so practiced at bypassing permissions in the system that the staff in District One hardly batted an eye anymore.

With the serious matters discussed, the conversation lightened.

Ji Xiaochuan leaned back, rubbing her stomach and letting out a satisfied burp. “Eating with you guys… always makes me… gain weight. You barely… touch your food.”

Lin Zhen, careful about his figure, had been controlling his diet for so long that he naturally ate less. Jian Fu wasn’t focused on the food, though Ji Xiaochuan never understood why he always jumped in to follow Lin Zhen’s lead.

Li Rong and Cen Xiao had been engrossed in their discussion and barely used their chopsticks, while Xu Tanghui, used to simple home-cooked meals, found the upscale restaurant’s dishes a bit overwhelming.

Xu Tanghui chuckled as she poured Ji Xiaochuan a glass of lemon water. “Being able to eat is a blessing. When you’re young, you should eat well. By the time you reach my age, you might not have the appetite.”

Ji Xiaochuan cradled the water glass, took a sip, and gave a sheepish smile. “Maybe I’m just… making up for lost time. After my little brother was born… all the good food went to him.”

Talking about her family, Ji Xiaochuan’s expression was calm now.

These days, she was helping Aunt Hui run an online shop, and Aunt Hui’s life was no longer as bleak and stagnant as before. Besides making gloves, scarves, and hats, she had started creating crocheted dolls, toys, and handmade trinkets—little accessories loved by young girls. With Lin Zhen’s help promoting them, sales had been fantastic.

Ji Xiaochuan had become financially independent through these efforts and no longer had to humble herself to ask her family for money.

Xu Tanghui spoke seriously, “Your family handled that poorly. Even among siblings, it’s unfair to give everything to the younger one.”

Ji Xiaochuan shrugged. “Expecting my parents… to understand child psychology or educational theory is… wishful thinking. They’re too set in their ways to change.”

Li Rong asked, “Have they tried to contact you recently?”

Ji Xiaochuan tugged at her hair, pouting. “They did… but I didn’t meet them.”

Li Rong advised, “Don’t let them distract you. Focus on your studies. If anything troubles you, tell Cen Xiao or me, and we’ll take care of it.”

Ji Xiaochuan finished her sweet mint lemonade and licked her lips. “Got… got it.”

Lin Zhen nudged the mischievous Jian Fu aside and looked at Li Rong. “Oh, by the way, class monitor, our scriptwriting teacher mentioned Professor Li during class. He said he believes Professor Li was wronged. He had visited the Automotive Museum and said that sometimes one piece of shaky evidence can cast doubt on all the information. He even said that this case might become great material for a reality-based adaptation in the future.”

Li Rong’s face held a faint smile, his tone gentle. “Well, let’s hope when the truth comes to light, someone will be willing to adapt it.”

He calmly picked up a piece of boiled white radish and chewed it slowly.

The radish, no longer hot, carried a slightly greasy taste mixed with curry.

Under the table, Cen Xiao clasped Li Rong’s cold left hand tightly.

His thumb gently caressed the back of Li Rong’s hand, soothing his subdued emotions.

Li Rong remained motionless for a few seconds, then finally tightened his grip on Cen Xiao’s hand.

In those few seconds, he thought he could process, endure, and digest everything on his own.

But in the end, he relented—having someone to rely on wasn’t so bad.

Cen Xiao understood his feelings.

To others, this might seem like a fascinating story ripe for adaptation, but for Li Rong, it was his entire life.

He couldn’t demand universal empathy, nor could he expect those who uncovered the truth to raise their voices for him.

He had never harbored high expectations of humanity, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a sting in his heart over these small matters.

Art often endures by being exquisitely tragic and profoundly painful.

But the wounds his parents bore were real. Good people shouldn’t have to endure such suffering.

***

After lunch, everyone went back to their respective schools. The smile Li Rong had worn finally faded.

In front of Cen Xiao, he dropped his guard. The scorching sunlight drained his energy, leaving him a bit wilted.

Li Rong checked the time and asked, “You have class this afternoon, right?”

Cen Xiao replied, “Yeah.”

Li Rong murmured, “I have class too.”

It was a lecture on Introduction to Biochemistry by Professor Zhang Zhaohe—a foundational course in their major.

Cen Xiao suggested matter-of-factly, “Skip it.”

Li Rong lifted his eyes, puzzled. “What did you say?”

Cen Xiao said matter-of-factly, “After lunch, isn’t it natural to take a nap? Come home with me.”

Li Rong stood still, blinking. “Are you serious?”

Cen Xiao: “Completely.”

Li Rong’s lips moved as if he wanted to argue, but in the end, he didn’t.

The two hailed a cab and returned to Cen Xiao’s apartment.

This apartment was much larger than the one Li Rong used to rent. It had an incredibly comfortable bedroom, a custom-made extra-wide, extra-long bed, and pillows stuffed with herbs for a soothing, sleep-enhancing effect.

As Li Rong took off his jacket, his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the clock on the wall. “You’re okay skipping class?”

Cen Xiao turned his face toward him, lifted the blanket, and gently pushed Li Rong down into the bed, tucking him in.

“It doesn’t matter.”

The apartment’s central air conditioning kept the temperature perfect—not too hot—making it incredibly cozy to nap under the blanket. Thick curtains blocked out every trace of sunlight, leaving the room in a peaceful dimness.

Li Rong poked his head out from the blanket, glancing at Cen Xiao with a soft laugh. “What’s gotten into you today?”

They rarely spent time like this. Even in their previous lives, they always seemed to have too much to do, never pausing for even a moment, let alone skipping responsibilities to come home and nap.

Cen Xiao laid down beside him, wrapping an arm tightly around Li Rong, bundling him—blanket and all—into his embrace. In a low voice, he said, “You need to allow yourself to feel low sometimes, and then let me keep you warm.”