The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 17

Lin Zhixia felt utterly outmatched by Yan Huaiqing, inwardly scoffing at herself in frustration.

The Breeze Teahouse stood with three sides facing the lake, its structure half-hidden on the mountainside. The moment one stepped into the courtyard, the aroma of tea intertwined with the melodies of a pipa wafted through the air.

Inside the classically styled teahouse, the first floor was arranged with scattered seating, while the second floor housed private rooms. The owner had thoughtfully reserved a lakeside spot on the upper level, allowing guests to either sit by the window and take in the scenic lake and mountains or recline on the rocking chairs inside while enjoying the storytelling and ballad singing performances from below.

It was pure bliss.

So much so that Lin Zhixia found herself yearning to be a part of Yan Huaiqing’s life.

“Wow, the sunlight is so lovely today,” Lin Zhixia remarked, leaning against the wooden doorframe.

“Indeed.”

Yan Huaiqing stood quietly by the opposite side of the window, tilting her head to push aside the dangling bead curtain as she gazed at the lake. Sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, casting dappled, gentle rays across her face. She looked like a figure from an ancient painting ethereal and aloof, as if detached from the mortal world.

“A beauty rolls up the bead curtain. Yan Laoshi, you’re stunning, especially when the light shines through. So beautiful I hardly dare look at you.”

Lin Zhixia rested her hands on the windowsill, her tone soft and her gaze tender, like the tentative antennae of a snail, ready to retract at any moment.

Yan Huaiqing didn’t respond, merely curling the corners of her lips into a faint smile, her eyes and expression conveying gratitude for the compliment but also a gentle warning against flattery.

So she really didn’t appreciate straightforward praise. Having confirmed this, Lin Zhixia suppressed a smile and lowered her gaze.

Unlike the Longjing tea they had during their meal, Yan Huaiqing had chosen black tea this time. The server meticulously prepared the tea before discreetly withdrawing.

The two reclined in their rocking chairs, eyes closed as they listened to several segments of the storytelling performance from downstairs. After a while, Lin Zhixia broke the silence. “Yan Laoshi, do you come here often for tea?”

“Not often. The last time was during the opening, when I came to show support. I’ve been busy since.” Yan Huaiqing’s voice carried a more relaxed tone.

Lin Zhixia felt a secret thrill, realizing that Yan Huaiqing had never shared such leisurely moments with anyone else not even Jiang Jing or Su Wangyue.

“Professor Zhao mentioned that you’ve been writing since graduation,” Yan Huaiqing said slowly, opening her eyes and turning to look at her.

Unaware of Yan Huaiqing’s gaze, Lin Zhixia kept her eyes closed, a playful smile on her lips. “Yes. While you’ve been busy, I’ve been quite idle. I’ve actually been thinking about finding a job.”

A flicker of interest crossed Yan Huaiqing’s brow. “The suggestions you sent me last time were excellent. My theater only started operating last year, and we’re constantly hiring. If you’re interested, I’d like to invite you to join as a scriptwriter or take on other writing-related roles.”

This,

Was the dinner invitation actually a job interview? The turn of events completely defied all of Lin Zhixia’s expectations.

“Is this the real reason you invited me to dinner?” She sat up abruptly, causing the rocking chair to tilt upright.

“Not entirely. I didn’t mention it during the meal because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. Even now, there’s no need to feel burdened. Whether you want to join or not is entirely up to you.”

Yan Huaiqing also sat up slowly. Her smile and tone always had a calming effect, and Lin Zhixia’s tense posture relaxed slightly. After a moment of thought, she spoke.

“Yan Laoshi, as you know, I’ve only attended a few opera performances and know nothing about theater. If you’re considering hiring an amateur like me just based on one suggestion, the risk seems quite high.”

“Hmm.” Yan Huaiqing nodded in agreement, then sighed and remarked with a hint of immodesty, “But I think you’ve underestimated my ability to assess risks, as well as my judgment in choosing people.”

Her faint gaze drifted briefly, disappearing before one could fully grasp it.

Lin Zhixia sensed the subtle shift vanishing in the air and exchanged a knowing smile with her. She lowered her head to reflect on herself before asking, “So, I’ve been chosen by Teacher Yan?”

Yan Huaiqing picked up the teapot and walked over to the tea table by the window, taking a seat as she offered an explanation.

“You might not be aware, but the assistant director of our last play used to direct stage dramas, and one of the movement coordinators in the troupe studied modern dance. Before they joined, they were just as clueless about theater as you described. Now, not only do they understand it, but they’re also excelling in their roles. Do you know why?”

“Why?” Lin Zhixia rose and walked over to sit opposite her.

“Because the understanding and perception of beauty are universal,” Yan Huaiqing said, fiddling with the teapot.

“That’s true.” Lin Zhixia nodded, gazing at her profile.

“So, are you in?” Yan Huaiqing turned and casually refilled her teacup.

Looking at the tea before her, Lin Zhixia suddenly recalled Jiang Jing’s mention of “boarding a pirate ship,” feeling a sense of destiny in the moment.

She chuckled softly, then theatrically picked up her cup as if accepting an invitation. “I’ve already shared a meal and tea with you how could I possibly refuse? Besides, job opportunities are so precious these days. I should be the one treating you, Teacher Yan.”

“Can I take that as your agreement?” Yan Huaiqing held her teacup, a subtle glimmer in her eyes.

“I really like you, Teacher Yan.”

Lin Zhixia blurted it out without thinking, then quickly corrected herself, feeling it was too forward. “Oh, I mean, I really enjoy watching you perform, and I love seeing how you all work backstage. I used to watch Jiang Jing collaborate with your team often, and I’ve always envied her for that.”

“It’s just.”

All those overwhelming online labels for leaders in reality, they’re just real people.

Spending every day together, if it doesn’t spark affection, it breeds resentment. Isn’t that how the stories always go?

She cleared her throat and continued, “They say no one stays sane at work. I’m used to being free I’m not sure if I can handle…” the relationship with you.

“No need to feel pressured. The theater is mine, so you don’t have to keep regular office hours. Like Jiang Jing, you’ll have freedom.”

“And no contract either?”

“Not having a contract would be illegal.”

“Oh, so not having fixed hours is that a privilege?”

Yan Huaiqing smiled, lowering her eyes. “Yes~” she drew out the word.

Lin Zhixia’s hesitation was genuine, but so was its brevity. Around Yan Huaiqing, she always found it easy to let her guard down.

“Well then,”

Thinking of the upcoming form of address, she felt a surge of excitement, pausing briefly before asking, “When do I start work, Boss Yan?”

After being called by the same title a hundred times, any change carries an invasive edge. Yan Huaiqing’s ears tingled faintly at the shift.

“After the March tour ends, we’ll begin preparations for the new play. Your suggestions on lyrics, costumes, and stage design show unique insight you can contribute to those areas then.”

Her tone was gentle, yet it nearly made Lin Zhixia jump from her chair.

The new play she mentioned was likely Several Layers of Mountains, whose adaptation progress Editor Sun had previously mentioned to her.

Shifting her gaze to the still gently swaying rocking chair, Lin Zhixia’s emotions surged as she debated whether this was the right moment to come clean.

“What do you think?” Yan Huaiqing’s eyes searched hers, as if probing for something.

“Such a major project I feel truly honored.” Lin Zhixia wasn’t sure where she found the nerve to say that.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered at the corner of Yan Huaiqing’s lips. “You’re familiar with it?”

“Oh, I heard from my aunt that rehearsing a new production for the theater troupe requires a lot of manpower, resources, and funding, so I assumed it must be a significant undertaking.” Lin Zhixia’s reply was polished and appropriate.

“Hmm.”

A response that mirrored her earlier “Oh.”

Setting down her teacup, Yan Huaiqing spoke with measured grace, “This is the first major production by our institute that genuinely targets a younger audience. We’ve taken it very seriously holding numerous meetings in preparation. Moreover, the creative team is quite young, with most members born after 1995. You’ll fit right in without any generational gap.”

When discussing work, her voice carried a slightly deeper tone, and even with a smile, there was an undeniable air of authority.

Once again, Lin Zhixia hesitated about revealing her true identity. But having concealed it for so long, the words were difficult to utter.

After a moment’s thought, she opted for earnest pleasantries instead: “Then I’m truly fortunate. Thank you, Teacher Yan, for giving me this opportunity.” It was also her way of expressing gratitude for Yan Huaiqing’s commitment to Layers of Mountains.

Yan Huaiqing drew a soft breath, her brow furrowing slightly. “Actually, this play is an adaptation of a novel. We originally intended to invite the author to collaborate, but she declined.”

Her words came slowly, tinged with a hint of regret. “There was nothing we could do we couldn’t reach her.”

This was the Yan Huaiqing who sat deep in thought, her delicate brows knitted in concern.

Sigh… Maybe I should just come clean. But having carried the pretense this far, shedding the disguise now felt nearly impossible.

Lin Zhixia’s heart churned with turmoil, yet she maintained a sweet, composed smile. “Which novel is it? I wonder if I’ve read it.”

“Layers of Mountains, by the author Zhi Luo.” Each syllable, each intonation, sent a tremor through Lin Zhixia’s heart.

Yan Huaiqing’s gaze remained fixed on Lin Zhixia’s eyes, searching. “Have you read it?”

“I have a copy at home. I’ll make sure to read it carefully when I return.” Lin Zhixia averted her gaze, looking past the beaded curtain toward the lake.

“Hmm.” Yan Huaiqing quietly poured more tea and sipped it.

Lin Zhixia’s heart felt like the tea leaves swirling in her cup restless and unsettled.

She was hesitating, but also thinking.

Perhaps stepping away from her identity as the author to participate in this project would allow her to view her own work more objectively and rationally. That might not be such a bad thing.

Yet, something about it felt wrong.

After a while longer of sipping tea, Yan Huaiqing lifted her cup and looked at her. “The backyard here connects to a bamboo forest halfway up the mountain. Would you like to take a walk?”

This!

When she felt lazy after a meal and didn’t want to move, Yan Huaiqing had brought her to listen to music and drink tea.

When she mentioned wanting to find a job, Yan Huaiqing smoothly introduced the recruitment opportunity.

Now, after sitting for half the afternoon and starting to feel restless, Yan Huaiqing was inviting her for a walk.

Lin Zhixia felt as though she was being “downwardly compatible” by Yan Huaiqing.

This sense of being masterfully guided controlled, even was both dangerous and intoxicating. Dangerous because she feared she couldn’t escape Yan Huaiqing’s influence, yet she was captivated by the comfort it brought.

How weak-willed of me.

Scolding herself inwardly with a sharp “Hmph!”, she softened her voice to offer praise: “Teacher Yan, you’re truly thoughtful.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” Yan Huaiqing’s smile was perfectly poised as she picked up her phone and bag, gesturing for Lin Zhixia to follow her out. “So, when working with me, there’s no need to overthink things.”

Lin Zhixia felt as if a tiny wooden mallet were tapping rhythmically against her heart.

After several spring rains in recent days, the bamboo grove and mountain grasses had taken on a fuzzy, tender green hue. It felt as though taking a deep breath while walking through them would dissolve one’s entire being into this sea of green.

“Professor Yan, do you feel it too?” Lin Zhixia bounded up several steps, stretched her arms, and took a deep breath before voicing the sensation within her: “This tingling inside, like something is sprouting.”

Yan Huaiqing also tilted her head back for a deliberate breath, nodding in agreement. “Do all writers share this kind of synesthetic superpower?”

“Aren’t actors gifted too? And you possess even more extraordinary abilities.” Lin Zhixia turned to look at her.

“You’ve seen my performances, but what about the books you’ve written? Care to share?” Yan Huaiqing met her gaze.

Lin Zhixia flushed slightly, then had a sudden inspiration and mimicked Yan Huaiqing’s tone: “Professor Yan can try guessing my writing style.”

“My guess is you prefer keeping your identity private.” Yan Huaiqing’s eyes drifted toward a small white flower hidden deep within the bamboo grove.

“Not exactly. When I was in school, living on campus, everyone in my class and department teachers and classmates were all familiar faces. That’s why I didn’t want to reveal my identity. Now that I live in a corner of the city where I don’t even know my next-door neighbor, it matters less.”

Lin Zhixia spoke while climbing the steps one by one.

Yan Huaiqing pondered briefly before turning to her with a searching gaze. “Tell me, if I were to personally extend an invitation, would the author be willing to participate in this project?”

The author!

Lin Zhixia’s blood rushed instantly to her heart, each pulse carrying tremors that bloomed like flowers along her veins.

She looked into Yan Huaiqing’s eyes meeting hers.

Three times today she had sought her out with this very gaze!

“You already know, don’t you?” she ventured.

“I’m not sure if this is intrusive, but yes, I’ve figured it out,” Yan Huaiqing replied cautiously.