The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 36

It was raining. Then the sun came out.

Lin Zhixia was someone who could keep her composure. The clearer she was about what she needed to do, the more calmly she held herself.

She didn’t ask Yan Huaiqing about her stance, nor did she inquire how she would handle the situation. After all, a person’s actions speak louder than their words.

In an industry dominated by male roles, some chose to simply change a character’s gender, but Yan Huaiqing opted to mentor more students than anyone else. Wherever she went, whatever she did, she brought her students along, giving them more opportunities to be seen.

Audiences preferred young male leads, and while some catered to market demands, Yan Huaiqing consistently explored themes centered on strong female protagonists and ensemble casts. She aimed to create more memorable female roles that could be passed down through generations.

During meetings, Dean Han deliberately avoided her gaze and refused to engage with her. It wasn’t hard to infer that, behind the scenes, she had challenged this authoritative leader. Her stance wasn’t voiced at the conference table, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one.

Lin Zhixia didn’t want to sacrifice herself, nor was she willing to sacrifice the characters in her book. But she also didn’t want Yan Huaiqing to step in and shield her from the fallout.

After a week of leisurely travel, they arrived in Nan City on Wednesday. The group chat soon buzzed with the results of the fourth script discussion meeting. Lin Zhixia knew Editor Sun’s call would likely come the next day.

The following morning, in the courtyard of a guesthouse in Nan City, Lin Zhixia lay beneath a flower trellis, basking in the sun, occasionally lifting her gaze to the lake beyond.

Both the blooming flowers and the shimmering waves reminded her of Yan Huaiqing. Every time she thought of her, these fleeting two months felt like a sudden spark of inspiration while writing a book.

Wasn’t that how it went?

Some people entered your life like a flash of insight lighting up your mind, stirring boundless emotions within you.

But when you tried to build a profound story around that spark, you realized it was impossible to grasp it could only drift away, becoming a fragment of a plot with no beginning or end, or perhaps a ridiculous, discarded draft.

Yet, there would always be moments when you’d think of it again, wanting to pick up the pen and continue, only to find yourself at a loss.

Lin Zhixia decided to crumple that page, toss it aside, and start anew.

At half past ten in the morning, Editor Sun’s call finally came. Her words were tactful as she relayed information Lin Zhixia already knew, then asked for her opinion.

Lin Zhixia didn’t beat around the bush. She stated firmly that she would not concede an inch and requested that Editor Sun temporarily suspend the collaboration on her behalf. If this led to any breach of contract, she would bear all consequences and compensation herself.

Editor Sun was taken aback both by her decision and her uncompromising demeanor. But this was Lin Zhixia, so she didn’t press further or ask any more questions.

After hanging up, Lin Zhixia sent her another message.

Three hours later, the script group chat erupted into chaos.

Editor Sun had directly posted a statement in the collaboration group, clearly stating that the agency and the author firmly opposed gender-swapping the characters and would not yield. Citing the theater company’s disrespect toward women and female characters as the reason, she recommended temporarily halting the collaboration.

Lin Zhixia had made the first move.

When Yan Huaiqing taught her calligraphy, she had also taught her that only by occupying the moral high ground could one avoid being refuted.

For an all-female theater troupe whose audience was predominantly women, disrespecting women and female characters meant losing its very foundation.

That was the high ground.

As a minor author, Lin Zhixia might be isolated and vulnerable, but she had the backing of a major publisher. Though her fanbase wasn’t large, a book with millions of sales still carried some influence.

She wasn’t alone in this.

Moreover, the incident involving He Zhe had stirred up waves of public opinion online, and the lingering heat of the discourse hadn’t yet subsided. At this point, the institute undoubtedly wanted to avoid escalating the situation further.

She could leverage this momentum.

Besides, any sensible person would know how to weigh internal discord against external conflicts.

By making the first move, she could also keep Yan Huaiqing out of it for now.

Even if the contract was unfavorable to her, even if she ultimately lost, at least she had stood her ground.

What mattered was that she still had an ace up her sleeve she wouldn’t lose.

Lin Zhixia turned off her phone and quietly waited for the situation to unfold.

Yan Huaiqing still hadn’t reached out to her proactively. He only posted a single update on his social media that evening:

“It’s raining.”

The accompanying photo was a view from his office window a dense forest stretching into the distance, layers of trees overlapping, with threads of rain seeping through the shades of gray and deep green. It had a serene and pristine atmosphere, like an early summer rain.

Lin Zhixia studied the photo carefully, a slight smile playing on her lips. She didn’t like the post, but she saved the picture.

After a moment’s thought, she also posted an update:

“Sunbathing.”

The photo she attached was one she had taken that morning a vibrant, sun-drenched field of flowers. Posting it now felt deliberately bold.

She waited quietly for a while but didn’t hear from Yan Huaiqing. Instead, an old friend gave her a like and left a comment, followed by a video call.

“What’s going on? What’s going on? What’s going on?”

“What are you two even doing?”

“I was only abroad for a fashion shoot, and by the time I’m back, it feels like the whole world has fast-forwarded?”

Jiang Jing’s chat style was unmistakably consistent. No matter how many times she changed her profile picture in a day, one sentence from her was enough to identify her.

“Nothing’s going on. I’m the one who’s curious why are you so worked up?” Lin Zhixia feigned ignorance.

“Nothing?? ‘It’s raining.’ ‘Sunbathing.’ And you call that nothing?”

“I’ve already heard all about your glorious deeds from Sister Xiaohua.”

“And you still say nothing’s going on.”

Jiang Jing’s tone was expressive, her facial reactions animated. She recited the two social media posts with a mix of sarcasm and mockery, exceeding the effect Lin Zhixia had hoped for.

Yan Huaiqing would probably make some connections if he saw them too.

Lin Zhixia chuckled without addressing it directly. “Youthful recklessness, overestimating myself, I suppose. What, are you here to mock me too?”

“No! I admire you. You dare to be angry and speak up I genuinely admire that about you.”

“But you really are reckless. That was Dean Han, you know. I don’t even dare to look her in the eye, and yet you confronted her directly during the meeting. You’ve got guts.” Jiang Jing raised an eyebrow at her.

“Deputy dean. Deputy,” Lin Zhixia emphasized, then turned her teasing toward Jiang Jing. “You should eat more chicken hearts or duck hearts lately.”

“Why?” Jiang Jing’s mouth moved faster than her brain.

“If your kidneys are weak, nourish them. If your heart is weak, nourish it. One moment you don’t dare to look this person in the eye, the next you don’t dare to look that person in the eye just how weak is your heart? Don’t you think you need to nourish it?”

“You daring to mock me? You really are bold.”

“You’re the one who insisted on asking. I just obliged.” Lin Zhixia slid open the floor-to-ceiling window and sat on the balcony recliner as she chatted with her.

The night breeze was gentle, more comfortable than the daytime air. Unconsciously, she relaxed completely.

Jiang Jing observed her for a moment, then asked in a tone that was both concerned and probing, “Where are you right now? Alone? I heard from Xiaohua that you were ignored during the meeting and haven’t been to work since.”

“You’re not really so thin-skinned that you’d take it to heart and just quit, are you?”

“The theater and the institute are actually separate entities, so you don’t need to take it too personally. Director Yan definitely isn’t blaming you. Even though she didn’t stand up for you on the spot, it’s understandable as a leader, she can’t afford to openly clash with others…”

Lin Zhixia interrupted her, “Sometimes having too vivid an imagination isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

Jiang Jing was momentarily speechless. After a moment’s thought, she rolled her eyes and retorted, “You ungrateful thing! I’m just concerned about you, and you respond with sarcasm.”

Then, shifting gears, she began chattering nonstop again.

“But what are you actually planning to do? Are you going back to work?”

“Sister Xiaohua is really on your side. She’s been worried since you disappeared, but she’s too afraid to message you says her boss won’t allow it.”

“So, what really happened? Did you have a fight with Director Yan?”

“You even subtly called her out in your social media posts.”

“She has it tough too, you know. As the head of the troupe, she has to handle pressure from higher-ups, manage the actors’ schedules, and consider the audience, market, and reputation. After all, we’re in an era where box office reigns supreme.”

See? When everyone avoids addressing an issue head-on and instead approaches it from different angles and perspectives, it’s a sign that the issue itself is problematic.

If something doesn’t need changing, no justification is necessary it stands on its own, open and honorable.

But if it does need changing, a thousand excuses must be found because it’s shady, underhanded, and can’t withstand direct scrutiny, requiring endless justifications to cover it up.

Even someone as straightforward as Jiang Jing didn’t confront the issue directly.

She’s a fan of Yan Huaiqing’s work and considers herself Lin Zhixia’s friend. She knows right from wrong, but she came to mediate, not to solve the problem.

She isn’t wrong she represents the majority.

The author and the characters feel distant to them, much like the countless cases that go viral online. They know the problems exist and are unjust, but as long as they aren’t directly affected, they remain deaf to the cries from afar.

They are often guided to adopt a broad perspective, to stand on neutral ground, or to join the loudest voices on the safe shore, waving their flags.

What they don’t see is that both sides are a living hell. The shore is crowded, and sooner or later, they’ll fall into the abyss.

For those standing at the pinnacle of the big picture, soothing people’s discontent and resentment is more important than solving the actual problem.

Jiang Jing kept talking incessantly, but Lin Zhixia only focused on the key points she wanted to hear.

Yan Huaiqing hadn’t messaged her and had forbidden Xiao Hua from doing so.

That was the crucial part.

But why?

Did she not want her to return?

Or was she convinced that Lin Zhixia would come back no matter what?

Perhaps she simply didn’t care whether she returned or not.

Or maybe she had some plan she was keeping from her.

Her thoughts were scattered by the night breeze, drifting in all directions so much so that even Jiang Jing noticed.

“What are you thinking about? What’s on your mind? Are you even listening to me?”

“And there’s important news I bet you haven’t heard. Want to know?”

Jiang Jing raised her voice a few notches to get her attention.

“What news?” Lin Zhixia pulled her thoughts back and looked at Jiang Jing on the screen.

The other woman pursed her lips, shot her a glare, then her eyes sparkled with gossipy excitement.

“Xiaohua said the author shares your viewpoint in fact, they’re even more intense than you are.”

“They’ve already had the client issue a statement saying they’re terminating the collaboration. They called out the institute for disrespecting women and female characters, accusing them of lacking sincerity in cooperation basically, they’ve put the institute in a tight spot.”

“Right now, the institute is caught between a rock and a hard place they might have to compromise.”

“Is that so?” Lin Zhixia found it hard to believe the institute would give in so easily and asked with curiosity, “Tell me more.”

“I heard the institute has already prepared documents to apply for special subsidies. The project can’t just be abruptly terminated, but with the author being so unyielding, the institute doesn’t want to back down outright either.”

“The most critical issue is that statement it escalated the situation from the very beginning, taking the moral high ground. If it had been posted online directly, it would’ve blown up long ago.”

“So, you should go back now. Whether you stir things up or showcase your skills, you’ll definitely help Teacher Yan pull off a brilliant comeback together.”

Jiang Jing was not only imaginative but also blindly optimistic and prone to unrealistic expectations.

Chatting with her was mainly a way to relax and unwind.

Lin Zhixia was quite happy to do so and asked about Yan Huaiqing.