The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 41

Lin Zhixia flew back a day later and was picked up by a car arranged by Lin Che straight from the airport to her office.

“Come, let me hug my little wolf cub.”

Before the words fully settled, she was enveloped in a familiar embrace solid and comforting.

Since childhood, being hugged by her aunt was one of Lin Zhixia’s favorite things. Especially when she was little, she loved the feeling of being cradled sideways in her aunt’s arms, which gave her an inexplicable sense of security and belonging.

Even as she grew older, she still cherished those hugs, though the sideways cradle was no longer possible now it was just an embrace.

Sometimes, however, when the setting was inappropriate or there were outsiders around, she’d feel as if she were still a child, which was a bit embarrassing.

“Oh my, still as fragrant and soft as when you were little. If I’d known you’d grow up like this, I’d have had one of my own,” Lin Che teased, her clear Beijing accent laced with affection, enough to spoil someone rotten. She had just been transferred to Ancheng.

“Secretary Lin, please mind your position. This is the office,” Lin Zhixia murmured, her cheeks flushing slightly as she caught sight of Secretary Chen standing nearby with a smile and a young official who looked utterly stunned.

Outwardly, Lin Che came across as cool and composed. Years of navigating officialdom had tempered her with a dignified authority, yet she only showed a hint of softness when it came to Lin Zhixia.

Instead of letting go, she rested her chin near Lin Zhixia’s ear and ruffled her hair. “So what if it’s the office? It’s lunch break can’t I hug my own kid?”

“Auntie,” Lin Zhixia whispered, squirming slightly, “I’m not a child anymore. You can’t just hug me like this as soon as we meet, regardless of the situation.”

“Worried about saving face?”

Lin Che released her, eyes twinkling with amusement, and launched into her usual childhood reminiscence: “Have you forgotten how much you loved being held by me when you were little? How many times did you sit eagerly in the corner of the conference room, waiting for me to finish my meeting so I could carry you home? And now you’re worried about face?”

“Auntie, you’ve been telling that story for ten years. Repeating it makes you sound old,” Lin Zhixia retorted, lowering her head to straighten her aunt’s shirt collar before gently adjusting the small Party emblem pinned to her jacket.

She’d been doing it since she was little it came naturally.

Grandma often hinted metaphorically that with her around, Che’s Party emblem would never sit crooked.

“Alright, I won’t bring that up again,” Lin Che said, gesturing for the others to leave before moving to the sofa and beckoning Lin Zhixia over. “I heard our little wolf cub has been acting on her own again out there?”

Feeling guilty, Lin Zhixia chuckled softly. “Not acting on my own it was just a small, unexpected incident.”

Lin Che raised an eyebrow, her sharp gaze seeming to see right through her. “Oh? Go on, spin your tale. Let’s see if your storytelling has improved.”

“I’m not spinning anything it really was an unexpected event,” Lin Zhixia insisted, sidling up to her.

Just then, Secretary Chen came in with tea. Lin Che’s eyes swept over them, and she asked in a low, stern voice, “What kind of unexpected event would make you bold enough to remotely command my secretary? Aren’t you getting a bit too daring?”

“Your phone was unreachable,” Lin Zhixia mumbled in defense.

Secretary Chen set down the teacup and covered for her. “It’s fine, Secretary Lin. I happened to be free we just had a meal together. It was nothing.”

“You’re spoiling her.” Lin Che turned her gaze to Lin Zhixia once more, her eyes suddenly sharp. “Explain yourself. Last time it was for your senior, who is it for this time?”

“No one,” Lin Zhixia raised her hand as if to swear. “This time, it’s purely for myself.”

“Cut that out.” Lin Che swatted her hand down.

“You don’t believe me even when I tell you.” Lin Zhixia rubbed her hand, feigning pitifulness.

Lin Che glanced toward the door Secretary Chen had already left. Squinting slightly as she recalled, she said, “I remember Secretary Chen mentioned it was someone from the Provincial Yue Opera Theater, What was her name again.”

As she spoke, she stood up and walked toward the intercom phone on the desk. “I’ll call her back to ask.”

“No need, no need.” Lin Zhixia rushed over in a flash, pressing down on the phone in her hand. “No need to call her. I’ll talk, alright?”

Lin Che remained silent, waiting for her explanation.

“It’s Yan Huaiqing, the head of the theater’s first troupe. My book is being adapted into an opera by their troupe, and there was a minor issue with the adaptation.” Lin Zhixia downplayed the matter, summarizing it briefly.

It was more or less the same as what Secretary Chen had reported.

A flicker passed through Lin Che’s eyes as she scrutinized her with keen insight. “Do you have feelings for her?”

“Don’t say things like that.” Lin Zhixia shrank back defensively. “I don’t.”

“Really?” Lin Che took a step closer, studying her.

“Really.” Lin Zhixia grew uneasy under her gaze, her eyes darting away.

“Got a photo? Let me see.” Lin Che shifted the topic, taking a roundabout approach.

“Why do you want to see a photo?” Lin Zhixia suddenly grew wary.

“I want to see what she looks like.” Leaning against the desk, Lin Che watched her with a slightly appraising look.

Seeing Lin Zhixia hesitate and remain guarded, she made a move to reach for the phone again.

“Fine, I’ll show you.” Reluctantly, Lin Zhixia pulled out her phone, opened the previously saved photo, and handed it to her.

“Hmm, very beautiful.” Lin Che praised as she looked at the screen.

Lin Zhixia pressed her lips together, smiling, happier than if she had been the one complimented.

“You really don’t like her?” Lin Che glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, not waiting for an answer before adding, “If you don’t like her, I do.”

“What do you mean?” Lin Zhixia’s smile vanished as she snatched her phone back, clutching it to her chest.

“She looks.” Lin Che deliberately drew out her words, “not much younger than me.”

“Nonsense! She’s fifteen years younger! Fifteen!” Lin Zhixia’s voice rose in pitch.

Seeing her flustered, Lin Che paused thoughtfully before saying slowly, “An age gap is a good thing. And,” she raised a hand to her chin, speaking with certainty, “I think she’d prefer someone like me.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Lin Zhixia stared at her in disbelief.

“Am I wrong? I have power, influence, status, and position. I can give her everything she wants. Why wouldn’t she like me?” A slight smile played on Lin Che’s lips as she gestured to herself, exuding composure and an undercurrent of control.

Indeed, power is the best tonic for a woman.

Born with grace and aging slowly, she commanded authority just by standing there.

“You you’re abusing your power. Be careful or you’ll be disciplined.” Unable to refute her words, Lin Zhixia could only challenge her position.

“At most, it’s a matter of conduct.” Lin Che responded lightly.

“You.” Lin Zhixia was completely outmatched, left speechless for a moment. She lowered her head and straightened the telephone on the desk.

“What, you’ve taken a liking to it again?” Lin Che examined her, hooking a finger under her chin to lift it. “Even if you do, it’s no use. What do you have to compete with me?”

Whether it was a joke or serious, the words struck a sore spot for Lin Zhixia.

She turned her chin away with a “hmph,” walked toward the sofa, and said nothing more.

She was angry.

Lin Che watched her pout but wasn’t in a hurry to console her. Instead, she casually made her way to the sofa, took a few sips of tea, and asked in a light tone, “Who are you angry at?”

“No one.” Lin Zhixia was angry at herself, her voice muffled. “You’re right. I can’t compete with you.”

“Good that you know it.” Lin Che set down her teacup, stretched by the window, and said unhurriedly, “But don’t worry. At my age, I wouldn’t stoop to competing with you.”

“What do you take people for? Competing when you feel like it, backing off when you don’t.” Lin Zhixia sounded listless.

“You know I’m not talking about people.”

Lin Che suddenly grew serious, turning to look at her and cutting straight to the point: “Just because I won’t compete with you doesn’t mean others won’t. Have you ever considered what will you use to defend what you want to protect?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Lin Zhixia lowered her head in thought.

“So?” Lin Che’s eyes glinted as she posed the soul-searching question: “Have you figured out which path you’ll take from now on?”

Lin Zhixia sat for a while longer before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Lin Che hadn’t expected to actually scare her off. She had even hoped to keep her for lunch.

“To find my own path,” Lin Zhixia said, already heading for the door.

“To her?” Lin Che asked with a deep, knowing smile.

Lin Zhixia glanced back at her. “None of your business.”

Lin Che sighed helplessly and let her go.

The drive from the municipal committee to the theater was long longer than any previous trip.

The driver, understanding the mood, remained silent the entire way. Lin Zhixia sat in the back seat, rolling down the window and lost in thought.

It had been a while since she last returned, and the temperature in Ancheng had risen noticeably. The warm breeze gently stirred her thoughts, unfurling them like petals, layer by layer.

Lin Che was right. On her own, Lin Zhixia truly couldn’t defend much, nor could she ease Yan Huaiqing’s worries.

The book would be revised, the play would premiere she really did need to choose her own path.

To the theater.

Yan Huaiqing had a performance that evening, and she had to be there to support her.

But first, she needed to go home.

She wanted to refresh her mood and meet her with a clear, cheerful spirit.

By four in the afternoon, the theater was already filling with audience members.

For the first time, Lin Zhixia used her employee pass to enter backstage directly through the staff entrance.

Yan Huaiqing was in the middle of applying her makeup.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Sister Lin! Long time no see.”

Su Wangyue, whose angle in the mirror allowed her to see the door, turned around first to greet her.

“Long time no see, Teacher Su. Good afternoon.” Lin Zhixia responded politely. Noticing Yan Huaiqing looking back at her, she offered a slight, restrained smile. “Hello, Teacher Yan.”

Yan Huaiqing had known she was returning today but hadn’t expected her to come. Surprise flickered in her eyes, and she smiled faintly.

“What, Teacher Yan, it’s not ‘long time no see’ for you?” Su Wangyue drawled teasingly.

Sensing the unusual tension between them, she quipped further, “You vanished for over ten days, and she disappeared for a whole day the day before yesterday. Come to think of it, she wasn’t off having a secret rendezvous with you, was she?”

Eloping. Running away together. Secret rendezvous.

Su Wangyue’s choice of words was so exquisitely sharp that no one else in the entire theater could match her.

Lin Zhixia’s ears flushed bright red.

“Xia Xia, come here.” Yan Huaiqing pulled over a nearby stool, gesturing for her to sit.

“Xia Xia, calling her so sweetly, are you two really having a secret rendezvous?” Su Wangyue picked up a brush to outline her eyebrows, occasionally glancing at the two of them.

Lin Zhixia was still too young and inexperienced; with every mention of “secret rendezvous,” her cheeks gradually flushed red.

Yan Huaiqing watched her flustered expression in the mirror and casually handed her an eyebrow pencil. “Help me with my makeup.”

Lin Zhixia didn’t know how to apply stage makeup, but she reached out like a little puppet and took the eyebrow pencil. “Where should I draw?”

“The eyebrows.” Yan Huaiqing leaned in closer, lowering her face toward her.

“Eyes and brows like a painting” this must be what that phrase meant.

But her eyebrows were already perfectly done.

Lin Zhixia held the pencil, unsure where to start.

Her heart was still pounding.

“You can’t tell the symmetry in the mirror. Just make slight adjustments along the shape of my brows.”

Yan Huaiqing glanced at her, then lowered her lashes, her gaze falling squarely on Lin Zhixia’s chest.