The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 46

If you choose to spy, you must have the courage to face what you see.

In this world, those who love you to extremes and those who hate you to extremes might very well be the same people.

The depth of their past love is matched only by the intensity of their present hatred.

They never possessed the courage to face reality, instead obsessing over the illusions they meticulously crafted. The moment you deviate from the perfect script in their minds, all their affection instantly transforms into poisoned arrows, aimed straight at you.

Their reasons for attacking you sound righteous they claim to have seen your true nature.

Yet, what they call your “true nature” is merely another version of you, born of their wild conjectures.

If they loved wrongly, they must repay it with doubled hatred.

Moreover, in the world of opera, the distance between performers and fans is incredibly small. The stage and the audience are separated by only a few steps. Every performance is a vivid portrayal by the actors, and what the fans witness is their most vibrant flesh and blood.

Thus, their love is purer, and their hatred more extreme.

Among Yan Huaiqing’s fans, there exists a small group of such individuals. They once adored her with madness, but now, they despise her with equal fervor.

They trample on her when she is down and meticulously tarnish her reputation when she shines.

In their efforts to destroy her, they spare no expense.

Lin Zhixia’s fingers swiftly scrolled across her phone screen, searching through various apps until she finally found crucial information on a forum.

An account named “Why Isn’t Yan Huaiqing Dead Yet” had posted two hours ago:

Text: “You wanted to blow up the stage? Then blow it up. See you tonight.”

The accompanying image showed four hands, each holding a bottle of red paint. Most striking was the white band tied around each of their wrists, with the words “Yan Huaiqing · Die” written in a blood-red color.

The vivid red struck Lin Zhixia like a dizzying blow, and her heart sank heavily.

“Stop looking.”

A hand with distinct knuckles covered her phone screen. Snow-white water sleeves brushed against her wrist, carrying the faint scent of fabric.

Lin Zhixia looked up and met Yan Huaiqing’s calm, placid eyes. Her tone was as casual as if she were discussing the weather. “It’s an old trick. They pull this every now and then. No need to take it seriously.”

“But,” Lin Zhixia tightened her grip on her phone, her voice strained, “Yan Laoshi, I heard your car was actually splashed with paint before?”

Yan Huaiqing raised a hand to adjust her sleeve. “That was many years ago. It was fans venting their anger on behalf of my senior sister, not this group. Besides, security checks have been added at the entrance. Nothing was found, so it’s most likely another prank.”

“But what if”

“There is no ‘what if.’”

Yan Huaiqing suddenly took her hand and gently pressed her fingertips, locking the phone screen for her.

“The show is what matters most.”

She stood quietly, the lights of the dressing room casting fragmented reflections in her eyes, like sudden sparks igniting on a snowy plain.

Footsteps echoed from outside as supporting actors began gathering by the stage, waiting for their cues.

“The show is about to start.”

Yan Huaiqing glanced toward the door. “As for you, why not wait for me in the dressing room?”

Lin Zhixia, still uneasy, instinctively grabbed her water sleeve. “Yan Laoshi, you say it’s nothing, so why did you hint earlier that I shouldn’t go to the audience seats?”

“You’re different from others,” Yan Huaiqing turned back to look at her.

“How am I different?” Lin Zhixia still held onto the sleeve, refusing to let go.

“If something really happens, other audience members would first try to protect themselves. But you?” Yan Huaiqing raised an eyebrow at her.

“I would definitely…” rush out to stop them.

Lin Zhixia pressed her lips together, swallowing the rest of her words. “I’m still worried.”

“I can tell. You’re so concerned you’re flustered that’s exactly why I didn’t want you to know.” She tugged lightly at her water sleeves, signaling for Lin Zhixia to let go.

“Then I’ll do the same as yesterday and watch you from the wings.” Lin Zhixia still didn’t release her grip, holding onto the water sleeves as if to follow her.

Yan Huaiqing chuckled, glanced at her chest, and asked with feigned seriousness, “There are rules backstage no unauthorized personnel. Do you have a work pass?”

“I…” Lin Zhixia looked down at herself. She’d been so upset earlier about being teased that she’d rushed out and forgotten it.

“Then there’s nothing to be done.” Yan Huaiqing gave her an apologetic smile.

“What’s with the two of you still acting out a scene? I’ve been waiting forever how nauseating.” Su Wangyue leaned halfway through the doorway to look at Yan Huaiqing. “To avoid disturbing you, I even cleared out to another dressing room. And here you are, still finding time to tease Sister Lin.”

“Good evening, Teacher Su.”

“Wishing Teacher Su a smooth performance.”

“Teacher Su, your eye makeup is so beautifully done today you’re sure to captivate the entire audience.”

Uncharacteristically, Lin Zhixia showered Su Wangyue with a stream of compliments.

“Oh? So Sister Lin has two faces now. You usually only talk to your beloved Teacher Yan what’s going on today? Your words are so sweet.”

Lin Zhixia smiled at her but hadn’t yet spoken when Su Wangyue stepped closer, leaning in to scrutinize her. “Flattery without cause out with it. What sinister plot are you scheming?”

Again, before anyone could respond, she suddenly flicked her long sleeves and costume.

The robe embroidered with subtle patterns traced an arc through the air, while the kingfisher feathers adorning her headdress shimmered coldly under the lights.

She planted one foot on a stool, struck a cool pose, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “You haven’t fallen for me, have you?”

*Tch *

Yan Huaiqing turned her face away, unable to watch.

“Teacher Su is so cool you really look responsible and charming.” Lin Zhixia stifled a laugh as she applauded and flattered, though her gaze drifted from Su Wangyue’s face down to her sleeves.

Wide and thick.

“Cut the act. Did you really think I wouldn’t see through it?” Su Wangyue smoothed her sleeves and shot her a sidelong glance. “You just want me to block the paint for your dear Teacher Yan, don’t you? Was all that fawning really necessary?”

“I wasn’t!” Lin Zhixia flushed with embarrassment and stole a glance to the side.

This time, Yan Huaiqing didn’t come to her rescue. Instead, she watched with a peculiar smile in her eyes.

Between the stage and the audience lay the orchestra pit it would be difficult for paint to splatter that far. Everyone was more concerned about whether an accident might cause panic and a stampede among the audience.

Yet here she was, single-mindedly focused on how to block paint.

She really was going to great lengths.

“My partner of course I’ll protect her.” Su Wangyue glanced between the two, her gaze finally settling on Lin Zhixia.

With a sudden sweep of her arm, she flung her sleeve high, propped her chin on one hand, and said with utmost seriousness, “But I think, Sister Lin, you should remain aloof and elegant reserved yet proud. Don’t learn these vulgar, sycophantic tricks. I don’t like them.”

Once someone starts lecturing, they’re truly beyond hope.

She seemed so greasy.

Lin Zhixia took an awkward half-step back.

Yan Huaiqing, meanwhile, turned to grab her own work pass, then took Lin Zhixia by the wrist and headed toward the stage.

“You heartless pair not even waiting for me.”

“Hey, hey, hey.”

At 7:30 in the evening, the play began as usual.

None of the actors showed any unusual emotions, and even the staff went about their work normally, as if they had long grown accustomed to such threats.

When the first beat echoed from the orchestra pit, everyone instantly snapped into focus, as though that post had never appeared.

The first act passed without incident.

The second act proceeded smoothly as well.

The third act ended with thunderous applause.

Even as the curtain call concluded, no audience members showed any extreme reactions.

It seemed it had truly been a false alarm.

Lin Zhixia’s tense heart gradually eased amid the busyness of everyone around her.

But then, the unexpected happened.

At 11:30 p.m., after the audience had dispersed and the actors had gradually returned home, the two of them finally stepped out of the theater.

Lin Zhixia remained highly vigilant, almost guarding Yan Huaiqing all the way to the parking lot. But just as they reached the car, several figures clad entirely in black suddenly emerged from both sides, trapping them between two vehicles.

“Yan Huaiqing, drop dead.”

Overlapping curses erupted repeatedly, and crimson bottles were hurled at them one after another.

Lin Zhixia noticed that the bottles were unsealed. The paint arced overhead in a crimson curve, hurtling toward them.

Instinctively, she lunged forward, trying to shield Yan Huaiqing, and by chance, dodged the first bottle.

The glass bottle shattered on the ground with a piercing crash, thick red paint exploding across the concrete like a shocking pool of blood. The pungent smell of paint instantly flooded their senses, overwhelming them.

“Ms. Yan, keep your head down. I’ll cover you,” Lin Zhixia’s voice trembled as she gripped Yan Huaiqing’s shoulder tightly with one hand and shielded her head with the other.

“It’s fine,” Yan Huaiqing’s voice was unexpectedly calm.

She lifted the bouquet of flowers and placed it on the car roof. After a quick glance around, she hooked her arm around Lin Zhixia’s waist and lifted her effortlessly into the air.

Taking two steps forward to avoid the shattered glass on the ground, she spun in place, pressing Lin Zhixia against the car door and shielding her with her own body.

During this, two more bottles exploded behind them.

Fortunately, they managed to dodge them.

But there were four in total.

“Ms. Yan, you should take cover first. You have another performance tomorrow you can’t get hurt.”

Lin Zhixia struggled to shield Yan Huaiqing, but her body was held too tightly to move. She could only wrap her arms protectively over Yan Huaiqing’s head.

“Don’t move,” Yan Huaiqing continued to shield her with her body while attempting to open the car door.

Thud,

A dull impact sounded, followed by Yan Huaiqing’s muffled groan.

Then came the sound of a glass bottle shattering on the ground.

Lin Zhixia felt a chill on the back of her hand, splattered with a sticky liquid. When she looked again, Yan Huaiqing’s neck and clothes were stained a deep crimson, making it impossible to tell if she was bleeding.

“Yan Huaiqing, drop dead!” Amid the venomous curses, the shadowy figures scattered and fled.

There truly was a chasm between “hearing about” and “experiencing” something firsthand.

Lin Zhixia had never encountered such a sudden, terrifying event before she was utterly shaken.

“Ms. Yan, where did it hit you?” Her voice trembled, nearly breaking into a sob, her eyes reddening.

“Are you hurt on the head? Your neck? Or your back?”

“Are you cut anywhere?”

She instinctively wanted to touch the areas she had asked about but hesitated, afraid of finding wounds.

In her panic, as her arm brushed against Yan Huaiqing’s shoulder, she noticed Yan Huaiqing wince slightly. Lin Zhixia’s own brow furrowed in shared pain and concern.

“Is it your shoulder?”

“Did it hit your shoulder?”

“Can you still move?”

“Let’s go to the hospital.”

“I’ll take you. I’ll drive.”

As she spoke, she reached for her car keys.

“Xiaxia, I’m fine.”

Yan Huaiqing patted her gently and pressed down on her wrist, his voice soft yet firm.

“The impact wasn’t heavy. I can still move, and there are no cuts. Let’s deal with the paint first, then go to the hospital later.”

He held her gaze until she calmed down.

“Then, let me wipe it for you.” Lin Zhixia’s hand hovered over his shoulder, still hesitant to touch him.

“No rush.”

Yan Huaiqing rested his chin on her shoulder, his warm breath brushing against her.

“Let me lean on you for a while.”