The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 51

Lin Zhixia did not care for superficial pleasures that merely skimmed the surface.

She preferred the kind of joy that dwelled in the depths,
A melody rippling through the cochlea, a line of text soaking into the retina, a scene blooming across the senses.

These sensations would first strike at the soul, then slowly take root along the textures and pathways of the body, ultimately stirring every cell into delight.

Such pleasure was interwoven with the very blood in her veins. Even if she never revisited it again in her lifetime, the feelings it once evoked lingered on, embraced by her lifeblood, never to dissolve.

Until an unexpected moment when she heard a gust of wind, glimpsed a passing cloud, brushed a fallen leaf, or met someone all the dormant sensations within her would awaken once more.

Lin Zhixia liked Yan Huaiqing.

There was no need to ask when, why, or what she liked about her. Because she realized that the feeling of liking her had long since merged with her very essence.

Yan Huaiqing’s presence awakened her and with her, all the beauty and joy she had accumulated over the years:
The fireflies she saw at five, the ocean tides she heard at ten, the love poems she read at fifteen, the moonlight she bathed in at twenty. The moment she realized she liked Yan Huaiqing, all of it transformed into surging emotions flowing through her body.

Whether it was fate or destiny
In any case, that was how it was.

Lying in bed, she listened as all the tremors of reunion roared through her veins.

But what about Yan Huaiqing?

Did she like her too?

Would she ever like her?

The way Yan Huaiqing looked at her never wavered, as if she could see right through her in an instant. Yet Yan Huaiqing herself seemed shrouded in mist no matter how hard Lin Zhixia tried, she couldn’t see her clearly.

Her speech always carried a peculiar pause neither rushed nor slow, maintaining a comfortable sense of boundaries, yet revealing a faint, elusive indulgence within those limits.

She would also initiate physical contact, but always stopped just short her fingertips retreating before their warmth could truly reach the skin, leaving behind only a faintly heated space in the air.

And she had kissed her.

Yes, she had kissed her!

Why?

If you simply liked someone, you might kiss them like a close friend or a pet.

But if you secretly loved someone, you wouldn’t dare.

The slightest hint of improper thoughts would make anyone cautious.

Yet Yan Huaiqing had kissed her.

That was thought-provoking.

Could it be, like how Su Wangyue kissed all her colleagues, that it was so effortless and natural precisely because there were no hidden intentions?

That would be just terrible.

But Lin Zhixia was still Lin Zhixia she could reason it out. A secret crush was, after all, a one-person show, directed and performed by oneself, with no real connection to the other person.

Besides, she didn’t have a tiny mole in her eyebrow, so surely her path in love wouldn’t be too rocky.

The curtains weren’t fully drawn, casting a silver line of light on the floor. As the moonlight shifted and the sun rose in the east, that silver line gradually climbed up to her ankle, turning golden.

Dawn had arrived.

Lin Zhixia woke up neither early nor late. After washing up, she pushed open her door. Zhao Jinchu was watering the plants, and Director Lin was doing stretching exercises.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice slow and slightly hoarse.

“Breakfast is on the table. Eat quickly and clean up after yourself,” Director Lin said, turning to look at her.

Lin Zhixia shuffled lazily toward the dining table. “Aren’t either of you going to work today?”

“Your mom is resting, and I have a class this afternoon.” Zhao Jinchu put away the water bottle and headed toward the kitchen. “Is Miss Lin still going to work later?”

“Not working, but I have something to do today I need to go out.” Lin Zhixia quickly ate a few steamed dumplings and drank half a glass of milk.

Zhao Jinchu poked her head out from the kitchen. “Going to see her?”

“Yes, I’m going to see her. Happy now? Are you done yet?” Lin Zhixia swallowed the last sip of milk and went to the kitchen to wash her cup.

“Don’t go empty-handed,” Director Lin reminded from the side.

“I know, I’ll stop by the flower shop later to buy a bouquet,” Lin Zhixia replied.

“We Chinese don’t usually bring flowers when visiting patients something more practical would be better.” Zhao Jinchu was in the kitchen ladling soup.

An oversized thermal flask was filled with milky-white bone broth. The aroma was so rich it could make one dizzy with delight.

“What’s this?” Lin Zhixia asked, swallowing her saliva.

“For you to repay a favor. Step back don’t drool into it.” Zhao Jinchu sealed the lid, packed it up, and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Auntie.” Lin Zhixia hugged Zhao Jinchu and gave her a kiss. Afterward, she glanced at the pot and swallowed again. “Can I have a bowl first?”

“None for you. The rest is for your mom her back has been hurting all night, so she needs the calcium.” Zhao Jinchu covered the pot and nudged her out. “Leave the cup here. I’ll wash it later. Hurry up and go repay your favor.”

Director Lin watched the two walk out and thought for a moment. “Do you need to bring your private doctor friend along for the visit? I can have a student accompany you for support.”

This…

Lin Zhixia was speechless. Carrying the soup flask, she went over and took her mother’s hand. “Mom, you should cut back on those dramatic CEO web novels they’re affecting your scalpel skills.”

“Go on, go on.” Director Lin’s back was sore, and she didn’t feel like talking anymore.

Lin Zhixia’s car had been splattered with paint and was at the 4S shop for repairs, so she was driving Yan Huaiqing’s other car.

After placing the soup in the car, she unconsciously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, feeling quite nervous.

Fortunately, she had already arranged to refine the script plan together last night, so this wasn’t an unannounced visit.

She went home first to change clothes, then stopped by a flower shop to buy a bouquet of peonies before driving to Yan Huaiqing’s home.

“Ms. Yan, I’m downstairs. Is it convenient for me to come up?”

She sent the same inquiry message as when Yan Huaiqing had visited her home. Then, her heart began to flutter like a swing.

After five or six swings, her phone buzzed: “Sure, come on up.”

Lin Zhixia took a deep breath, got out of the car, picked up the peonies, carried the soup flask and her laptop bag, and unconsciously cleared her throat before heading toward the elevator.

Her heart rose with the elevator, and she could even hear the blood pulsing in her eardrums.

She didn’t know why she was so nervous.

A few seconds later, the door opened.

Yan Huaiqing was leaning against the doorway waiting for her, her shirt sleeves casually rolled up to her elbows, revealing well-defined forearms. Her gaze fell on the peonies in Lin Zhixia’s arms, and she raised an eyebrow, a hint of laughter in her voice. “So formal?”

Lin Zhixia’s ears warmed, and she instinctively held the flowers tighter. “The last bouquet got splattered with paint, so I wanted to replace it.”

Before she could finish, Yan Huaiqing reached out to take the flowers, her fingertips brushing lightly against the back of Lin Zhixia’s hand like a faint electric shock.

Lin Zhixia’s breath hitched.

So this is the complex flavor of a secret crush a single glance, a fleeting touch, every rustle of grass or cry of a crane feels like an omen, words left unspoken only make the hidden feelings more obvious.

It’s actually quite thrilling.

“Thank you.” Yan Huaiqing lowered her gaze to the flowers. Pale pink petals dotted with droplets of water, so reminiscent of the subtle hints lingering at the corner of someone’s eyes.

“Are you sure you’re here to discuss the script?” She looked up at her again.

Lin Zhixia’s heart skipped a beat, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the handle of the soup container. “What else would it be?”

The corners of Yan Huaiqing’s lips curved slightly as she stepped aside. “Come in. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

Lin Zhixia forced herself to stay composed as she stepped inside and changed her shoes, feeling even more restrained than the first time she’d visited.

And it made sense.

Once you realize you like someone, every time you appear before them, you’re no longer the same person you were before. Every word, every action takes on a special meaning.

And everything about Lin Zhixia’s demeanor seemed to suggest she was here to confess.

Yan Huaiqing noticed the difference in her almost instantly, thinking she must have been scolded by her mother and was just being unusually reserved.

“What delicious thing did you bring?” she asked, trying to be considerate of her mood, her voice noticeably softer.

Lin Zhixia’s heart burst like a tiny firework. She lifted the soup container and answered honestly, “Bone broth. Auntie Zhao made it. She’s a fan of your work too. When she heard you were injured, she specially prepared it.”

She didn’t dare mention anything about repaying a favor or inviting her home for a meal.

“Oh ” Yan Huaiqing rarely saw her so docile and shy, and suddenly felt an urge to tease her. She deliberately stepped closer, her fingertips lightly hooking the handle of the soup container. “So it wasn’t made by Teacher Lin herself.”

Lin Zhixia, startled by her sudden proximity, took half a step back and bumped her head against the entryway cabinet with a dull thud.

“Next time… Next time, I’ll make it myself,” she mumbled, her ears burning, her voice almost hiding.

Yan Huaiqing suppressed a laugh and reached out to ruffle her hair. “Have you tried the soup yet?”

Lin Zhixia felt awkward and swallowed. “No, I just smelled it.”

“Then leave the bag here and help me get bowls from the kitchen. We’ll have some together.” Yan Huaiqing watched her head into the kitchen first, thinking she seemed oddly out of sorts.

After finishing the soup, they moved to the study to work.

Yan Huaiqing disliked harsh light, so the curtains were drawn. A few scattered lamps cast soft, overlapping halos of light across the room, like moonlight.

Two laptops lay open, screens pressed close together like an intimate couple ambiguous, yet also like comrades standing back-to-back reassuring.

Gazing at this scene, Lin Zhixia felt incredibly happy. Unconsciously, she pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes, smiling secretly.

Yan Huaiqing, wearing glasses, glanced at her, puzzled. She tapped her fingers lightly on the desk twice, a soft “tap-tap” to remind her to focus.

Lin Zhixia abruptly looked up, her breath catching.

Yan Huaiqing had already shifted into work mode, sitting upright and composed behind the desk. Half bathed in the soft glow of the floor lamp, her presence was overwhelmingly commanding

The crisp collar of her shirt was slightly open, revealing a slender, pale neck. Her hair was casually tied up, a few stray strands framing her porcelain-like face with a restrained elegance.

Her sleeves were rolled halfway up, the lines of her forearms as if sketched with a charcoal pencil. Her slender fingers rested lightly on the documents, the knuckles reflecting the cool white light of the screen.

She was like a spring stream steeped in moonlight clear, cool, and profoundly serene.

The finishing touch was the frameless glasses perched on her high nose bridge, the lenses occasionally flashing with a sharp glint that honed the untouchable aura of asceticism about her into something even more piercing.

Who was she trying to bewilder like this?

Was it really necessary to dress so formally just for working from home? And wearing glasses too!

Could it be… because she was coming over, she’d deliberately.

Lin Zhixia held her breath, her fingers nervously tapping the teacup beside her.

“Would you like some coffee? Or another drink?” Yan Huaiqing glanced at her hand.

“No, no need. The tea it smells lovely.” Lin Zhixia stared at her, dazed.

“Well then, any other questions?” Yan Huaiqing blinked at her.

Lin Zhixia was a peculiar person. She disliked evasion and guesswork, preferring to take the initiative to uncover things. So, she often couldn’t resist asking, expressing

“Working from home, Teacher Yan why are you wearing a shirt?”

Yan Huaiqing looked down at herself, adjusted her glasses, and replied, “My shoulders ache. Wearing a shirt means I don’t have to lift my arms.”

“Oh.”

That made sense. It definitely wasn’t to seduce her.

“Then, Teacher Yan, are you nearsighted?” Lin Zhixia was already drowning in the simple gesture of her pushing up her glasses.

“No, I’m not.” Yan Huaiqing lowered her gaze, thought for a moment, and explained, “Stage lights are too harsh; they strain my eyes. So, my eyes are sensitive to light.”

“Oh.”

So, not to seduce her either.

Lin Zhixia felt a pang of disappointment.

“Any more questions?” Yan Huaiqing narrowed her eyes slightly, unable to read her.

Lin Zhixia couldn’t read herself either.

So, she suddenly wanted to test herself test her own feelings, and test the person she was drawn to.

“Teacher Yan, you look really good in glasses.”

“Oh?” Yan Huaiqing tilted her head slightly, unaccustomed to such direct praise.

“Yes, very refined, mysterious, and ascetic it makes people want to.”

“Want to what?”

Want to push her down.

Or be pushed down by her.

Lin Zhixia’s face flushed, and she didn’t dare say it aloud.

Under Yan Huaiqing’s tranquil gaze, she was already stirred up by her own imagination.

People with vivid imaginations often end up arousing themselves like this.

“Xia Xia,”

Yan Huaiqing suddenly tapped the table lightly with her knuckles, her gaze enveloping Lin Zhixia like water, “Writers usually prefer to work independently, don’t they? My presence might distract you, right?”

“No, not at all, really, it doesn’t.” Lin Zhixia unconsciously repeated herself when she was being evasive.

“Are you sure?” Yan Huaiqing withdrew her hand, propped her chin, and looked at her, unconvinced.

“Sure.” Lin Zhixia’s eyes darted, and she added, “It’s just that… Teacher Yan reminds me of Su Yi.”

“Who’s Su Yi?” Yan Huaiqing frowned slightly, growing more confused.

“Su Yi isn’t a person; it’s a character archetype.” Lin Zhixia hurriedly explained.

“You think I live my life like a programmed routine?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what do you mean?” Yan Huaiqing pressed her lips together, waiting for an answer.

“It means you have a strong presence, very ascetic, with a hint of an ‘S’ attribute. If you offend her, you’ll get disciplined; if you break the rules, you’ll be corrected. For example, you have to sit up straight when writing, can’t speak in riddles, can’t leave a drop in your soup, and must stay focused when working together, but it’s all done just right, like guidance.”

Yan Huaiqing clenched her hand, then relaxed it, slowly removing her glasses.

The motion inexplicably brought to mind a swordsman sheathing his blade.

When she lifted her gaze again, her eyes shimmered with a dangerous glint that Lin Zhixia couldn’t decipher

“Then guess what am I going to control you about now?”