The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 10

This woman was truly unsettling.

Lin Zhixia had piqued Yan Huaiqing’s curiosity.

In the underground parking garage of Jiangnanli, Yan Huaiqing parked her car and pressed the elevator button. While waiting for the elevator to descend, she took out her phone and opened the document Lin Zhixia had sent her.

When I Look at Her · Yue Opera Lin Zhixia’s Ramblings.pdf

The document’s name was long, resembling a fan letter. Yan Huaiqing let out a soft, lingering smile.

“Xiaoman, Zhixia,” she murmured to herself, then tapped to open it.

The document spanned twenty-one pages, neatly formatted with clear and aesthetically pleasing layouts. Scrolling further, she found illustrations interspersed throughout.

Yan Huaiqing’s playful smile faded into seriousness. Just as the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, she blinked, closed her phone, and stepped inside.

Back home, she turned on only the ambient lights embedded in the walls. The furniture around her appeared as faint outlines, hazy and blurred, as if washed in ink.

Stage lights were far too dazzling; at home, she preferred to immerse herself in dimness.

After setting down her bag and keys, she headed straight to the walk-in closet, changed into simple loungewear, washed her hands, poured a cup of tea, and then made her way to the study.

She booted up her computer, transferred the document, and began reading it carefully.

Though the document was titled “Ramblings,” its content was vivid and even somewhat sophisticated in its phrasing.

It began with an introduction detailing Lin Zhixia’s understanding of Yue Opera. In just a few concise sentences, she summarized her thoughts and impressions before and after watching the performances.

It was direct and perceptive.

There was no screaming, no pandering, no flattery, and no empty praises.

Yan Huaiqing was amazed by Lin Zhixia’s remarkable command of language. Squinting slightly, she scrolled down with her mouse.

The following sections delved into Lin Zhixia’s interpretation of the operas. She displayed keen insight, analyzing the stories and characters with both depth and completeness.

What struck Yan Huaiqing the most was the final part. Rather than mere suggestions, it read like a vision for Yue Opera the section Lin Zhixia had labeled as “ramblings.”

The text expansively detailed her ideas and aspirations for Yue Opera, covering aspects such as story themes, stage design, and costumes. Her writing was evocative, pulling readers into the scene, and her concepts were undeniably bold.

Yan Huaiqing sat in silence before the computer for a long time, the teacup beside her gently steaming. She pondered the content of Lin Zhixia’s document, as well as the person behind it.

Unaware that someone was contemplating her, Lin Zhixia lay bored on her sofa, scrolling through her phone.

A beep sounded from the kitchen the milk was warmed.

As she lazily rose to her feet, her phone buzzed with a message from Li Meng. She quickly opened the chat window.

“Lin, I just asked. The interested organization is the Jiang Provincial Yue Opera Theater. The collaboration would involve opera adaptation, and they plan to apply for the National XXX Support Project to promote traditional opera culture.”

“Let me send you a screenshot of their email first the original one. The editor-in-chief said she’ll forward it to you.”

A few screenshots soon appeared on her phone.

“For more details, if you’re interested, our editor-in-chief said she’ll contact the theater tomorrow.”

“She also mentioned that the other party is very sincere. After you turned them down, their director personally called to follow up.”

Li Meng’s messages leaped into Lin Zhixia’s eyes like darting fish, stirring ripples in her pupils.

She tapped twice to open the image, zoomed in, and confirmed that the signature indeed belonged to the Jiang Provincial Yue Opera Theater, complete with a red seal.

The troupe leader? Could it be that Yan Huaiqing himself had made the call?

“This is just too unbelievable,” she exclaimed, plopping down onto the sofa.

After double-checking, she turned off her phone, closed her eyes, spread her arms, and leaned back into the sofa, embracing fate with open arms.

Her mind went momentarily blank, her heart thumping loudly. When she opened her eyes again, she picked up her phone and sent a message to Li Meng.

“Agree to the collaboration. I entrust your agency with full authority to handle it. Li Meng, you’ll be my agent.”

As for why she had suddenly decided to collaborate?

There was no reason.

Because at that time, she hadn’t yet realized that Yan Huaiqing was the only reason.

Before Li Meng could reply, she typed another message: “Don’t disclose the author’s information for now.”

“Agree to collaborate? For real?”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“You’re really going to collaborate?”

“Me as your agent? Am I seeing this right, Lin! Teacher Lin, are you sure?”

“You haven’t been coerced, have you?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Me as your agent? You think that highly of me?”

“This sudden fortune has fallen into my lap?”

“Lin? Say something, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”

Li Meng usually seemed so quiet and composed was it all an act?

“Youth so impatient,” Lin Zhixia mused aloud to the empty room as she watched the flood of messages pour in, then went to drink some milk.

After finishing her milk, she went to her study, pulled “Many Layers of Mountains” from the bookshelf, and flipped through it aimlessly, unable to focus on anything.

She examined the cover was it appealing? Was the binding aesthetically pleasing? Was the pen name catchy? Then she opened her phone to search for book reviews and author evaluations.

There were some negative reviews, but most were positive.

She deliberately picked out a few critical comments and read them aloud they did make some valid points.

Truth be told, she had grown much more indifferent to reviews lately.

When her first book was published, she wasn’t even eighteen. Back then, she took every negative comment to heart, scrutinizing them, memorizing them, tossing and turning over them at night, and even summarizing them to discuss with her editor.

Near the end of her eighteenth year, she published her second book, “Many Layers of Mountains.” Because it sold exceptionally well, the larger readership naturally brought more criticism.

It was during that year that she gradually learned to take it all in stride addressing valid critiques and disregarding the rest without letting them consume her.

After that, she spent three and a half years writing “Four Seas,” which went on to win several literary awards.

And now, there was her latest book, “Hearing the Silent,” which she was currently revising. Though its journey from conception to revision had been fraught with challenges, she still prayed that when this story finally met its readers, it would remain true to its original form.

Lin Zhixia didn’t know why she was suddenly reflecting on her relatively short writing career. It certainly wasn’t because her book was being adapted.

After all, the publishing house had received numerous letters of intent for the film and television adaptation of “Many Layers of Mountains.” Editor-in-Chief Sun had even called her several times about it, but she had always declined.

Her refusal wasn’t due to issues like copyright fees, nor was it out of some lofty desire to protect her work. She simply had no concept of it.

Once she turned down an offer, she’d go about her life as usual, forgetting about it by the next day. So yes, she truly had no concept of it.

As for why she was so excited now? Perhaps it was because of Yan Huaiqing.

She didn’t know anyone from the film company, so the idea of adaptation felt abstract and distant.

But Yan Huaiqing was different they had already met three times! Though they weren’t exactly familiar, she was someone Lin Zhixia had encountered in real life.

Moreover, Yan Huaiqing was unlike anyone else she was a truly unique individual.

If she were the one adapting Lin Zhixia’s book, it was only natural to feel excited, wasn’t it?

“This woman is truly unsettling.”

Her phone had gone quiet. Lin Zhixia read Li Meng’s message again and replied, “Yes, all of the above.”

Without waiting for a response, she went to take a shower.

As the water cascaded over her, she pondered

Should she let Li Meng and the publishing house approach Yan Huaiqing first, then make a dazzling appearance herself after the contract was signed, surprising her?

Or should she arrange to meet Yan Huaiqing as a mysterious figure, perhaps over tea, and then reveal her identity for a sophisticated, business-like discussion?

Alternatively, she could remain in the shadows, quietly observing, and only disclose her identity when the new play premiered, just to see how Yan Huaiqing would react.

Or perhaps she could drop hints bit by bit, letting Yan Huaiqing slowly piece things together until she discovered Lin Zhixia was the author that would surely be thrilling.

The more Lin Zhixia thought about it, the more excited she became.

While washing her hair, the hot water from the showerhead poured over her, jolting her mind back to clarity.

What if Yan Huaiqing’s interest was merely a preliminary discussion, and after further deliberation, the collaboration fell through? Wouldn’t that make her seem presumptuous?

What if Yan Huaiqing wasn’t actually thrilled to discover she was the author? After all, they weren’t particularly close.

Besides, Yan Huaiqing probably didn’t care for show-offs. It was better to stay low-key.

It felt like an endlessly long shower her hands were even starting to wrinkle from the water.

And the creases in her palms clearly declared one thing: she was far too invested in Yan Huaiqing.

Lin Zhixia rubbed her palms, searching for reasons to justify her preoccupation.

She had always harbored a deep fascination and curiosity for the various beauties described in books. From a very young age, she would vividly imagine their appearances and voices in her mind.

And Yan Huaiqing had brought all of that to life.

The first time she saw her was on stage, playing Du Liniang in the opera. With just her costume and a single line, she drew Lin Zhixia into the world of The Peony Pavilion, materializing the Du Liniang she had envisioned in her mind.

In reality, Yan Huaiqing also embodied Lin Zhixia’s imagination of beauty. She possessed both the elegant, reserved demeanor of a classical beauty and the confident, independent aura of a modern professional.

When she laughed or spoke, she was subtle and graceful; when she worked, she was meticulous and focused. Her voice was clear and warm, with a gentle tone that subtly conveyed authority.

What captivated Lin Zhixia the most was the aura of detachment surrounding her.

She was right there, yet it felt as though no matter how close you tried to get, you could never truly reach her. This sense of inaccessibility created a unique mystique about her.

It wasn’t that she was hiding something for you to uncover everything was right there, in her gestures, in the pauses of her speech. Yet, you couldn’t quite see or hear clearly, leaving you to imagine and yearn for more.

Lin Zhixia recalled a word enchantment.

All of Yan Huaiqing’s qualities combined had an enchanting effect.

She was clearly a disciplined and restrained person, yet she captivated others effortlessly, without even trying.

But Lin Zhixia didn’t resist this temptation at all. In fact, she even wanted to get closer.

Humming a tune, she dried her hair and, before going to bed, went to the study to fetch The Layers of Mountains, placing it by her pillow to fall asleep with it.

Isn’t it the most natural thing for the young to be impatient?