The Night is Called Gentle - Chapter 55

Wednesday was spent having fun with Jiang Jing, Thursday involved a half-day meeting, and Friday arrived faster than expected.

Without a prearranged meeting spot, Lin Zhixia went to the theater office early.

She deliberately wore her newly bought shirt a light blue, like the sky after rain.

Unfortunately, the rain hadn’t stopped yet.

She had lost count of how many times she’d twisted the bracelet in her hand, but the wall clock still hadn’t passed twelve. Just as Lin Zhixia was lost in thought, the doorknob clicked, and Yan Huaiqing appeared ahead of schedule.

From a distance of two or three meters, their eyes met simultaneously, and the air seemed to grow warmer.

“Professor Yan, didn’t you say you’d be back in the afternoon?” Lin Zhixia sprang up excitedly, unable to believe her eyes as she checked the time again.

“Professor Lin, have you been waiting long?” His real voice was ten thousand times more pleasant than over the phone.

“Not at all, I was working.” Lin Zhixia stepped closer, catching a faint scent of rain on him.

Yan Huaiqing, however, smiled amidst the gentle fragrance of grass and trees that drifted toward him. “Working so diligently even when the boss isn’t around seems I’ve stumbled upon a treasure.”

“You flatter me, Professor Yan.” Having been distracted all morning, she hardly deserved such praise. Suddenly remembering something, she looked up and asked, “By the way, are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, much improved. But at my age, I can’t handle too much strain I need to take it easy.” Yan Huaiqing tilted his head, resting a hand on the table as he gazed at the faint shadows under her eyes. “You, on the other hand, seem to have heavy dark circles.”

Lin Zhixia instinctively touched the corner of her eye. “Not really.” It wasn’t as if she’d lost sleep thinking about him.

Yan Huaiqing chuckled. “I reviewed the meeting notes from yesterday. The script revisions are excellent. Has my little assistant been working hard?”

“Actually, I have to thank Jiang Jing. The day before yesterday, she invited me to an immersive performance. I noticed their stage sets and props are far more intricate and elaborate than ours, but because their design is so ingenious, every segment flows smoothly and impressively. It inspired me, so the writing went smoothly I didn’t stay up late.” Lin Zhixia spoke modestly, her smile gentle and refined.

It was the same demeanor she had when they first met.

And she had said “ours.”

The smile in Yan Huaiqing’s eyes deepened slightly. After listening quietly, he blinked and said in a disappointed tone, “Such a great performance, why didn’t she invite me to go along?”

“She.”

She had considered it.

“Probably didn’t dare,” Lin Zhixia ventured, trying to explain on Jiang Jing’s behalf.

Yan Huaiqing looked at her with a soft, reproachful expression. “She didn’t dare, and you didn’t either?”

Lin Zhixia: “…”

It seemed she truly hadn’t dared, and she’d instinctively felt he wouldn’t appear in such a setting.

Seeing her resemble a timid quail, Yan Huaiqing’s eyes curved gently, his tone softening. “Really didn’t dare?”

Lin Zhixia always found courage in his gentleness. Lifting her lashes, she made a promise: “Then next time, I we’ll invite you to go together.”

“Deal.” Yan Huaiqing gave a faint smile.

Lin Zhixia remembered he’d mentioned bringing a gift and glanced down at his empty hands before hurriedly looking up again. “Professor Yan, how is your shoulder recovering?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I can lift it see?” Following his words, he raised his hand and patted her shoulder.

Lin Zhixia felt an urge to melt into his embrace along his arm but held back, afraid of hurting him. Instead, she changed the subject. “Professor Yan, you just got back why not go home and rest first?”

“I came to pick you up.” Yan Huaiqing still wore that knowing smile.

She seemed to have known she’d be waiting, which was why she’d specifically come early and made a detour to the office.

Lin Zhixia felt her ears grow warm. “Pick me up for what?”

“Naturally for something important. Do you have any files to save? Go shut down your computer.” Yan Huaiqing watched her leisurely.

She never spelled out surprises the more she left unsaid, the more it drove one wild with imagination.

“Alright.” Though Lin Zhixia turned away calmly, her demeanor was likely full of tells.

Under Yan Huaiqing’s gaze, she saved her files, shut down the computer, and walked toward her. Despite her serene smile, her fluttering eyelashes betrayed her.

She avoided meeting her eyes directly.

As they walked downstairs, Yan Huaiqing remained silent. Lin Zhixia deliberately lagged half a step behind to observe her.

It had been a week since they last met. Her hair seemed to have grown longer. Would it reach her waist? Something to look forward to.

Only when they reached the car did Lin Zhixia remember she hadn’t returned the car keys. “Oh, by the way, Professor Yan, my car is fixed now. Your keys are in my car let me go get them for you.”

“No rush.” Yan Huaiqing pressed the remote in her hand. “Let’s take this one for now.”

“Oh, then I’ll drive. Your arm needs a few more days to recover.” Lin Zhixia tried to move toward the driver’s side.

But Yan Huaiqing stepped forward, blocking the car door as she looked at her. “The roads are slippery in the rain, and it’s a long drive. Are you sure you want to drive, Professor Lin?”

“Aren’t we going home? It’s not that far, is it?” For the first time, Lin Zhixia detected a hint of distrust in her eyes, and her smile nearly froze on her face.

Yan Huaiqing smiled faintly. “I drove all the way back from Shaocheng. My shoulder is fine. Get in.”

“Alright.” Lin Zhixia puffed her cheeks slightly and obediently circled to the passenger side.

The rainy season brought showers that varied in intensity, and droplets meandered down the window like transparent streams. Gazing at the blurred scenery outside, Lin Zhixia grew puzzled this wasn’t the way to Yan Huaiqing’s home.

She stole a glance at the driver from the corner of her eye, then checked the rearview mirror and the intersections they’d passed.

“What’s wrong? Just one wrong turn and you’re already on guard?” Yan Huaiqing suddenly spoke, her voice tinged with amusement.

Lin Zhixia’s cheeks flushed, but she turned to face her anyway. “Where are you taking me, Professor Yan?”

“To my home.” Yan Huaiqing signaled and turned onto the overpass. “If you’re tired, you can nap. It’ll take almost an hour.”

As if she could possibly sleep.

Still, Lin Zhixia adjusted her seat lower from this angle, she could just see Yan Huaiqing’s profile.

“How many hours did it take to drive back from Shaocheng? Are you tired, Professor Yan?” She made casual conversation.

Yan Huaiqing glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “Drove slowly in the rain about two hours. But I’ve been resting well lately, so I don’t feel tired.”

“Sounds exhausting.” Lin Zhixia watched the rain and guessed, “So, are we going to another home of yours, Professor Yan?”

“Correct.”

A curve lifted the corner of Yan Huaiqing’s lips. For some reason, she liked hearing Lin Zhixia say “we,” with its faint Beijing accent and amusing intonation.

Lin Zhixia breathed in the damp air and asked in a soft, moist whisper, “Have you ever taken anyone else there, Professor Yan?”

She’d asked questions in this format too many times before, and she didn’t take it seriously herself. Suppressing a smile, she slowly closed her eyes.

Yan Huaiqing’s smile faltered at the corners of her lips, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the steering wheel. She had never brought anyone to her grandmother’s old house before had never even mentioned it.

Yet now, she was taking her there so naturally.

When she glanced at the rearview mirror discreetly, she saw the white kyara incense held between the other’s fingers also left to her by her grandmother before she passed away.

And she had given it away without hesitation.

Outside the window, the rain grew denser. As “Eternal Joy” played from the car speakers, Yan Huaiqing’s thoughts tangled for a moment.

She didn’t answer her.

Lin Zhixia didn’t press further. Counting the rhythm of her breathing, she gradually grew drowsy.

These past few days had drained her both mentally and physically; she was truly exhausted.

In her haze, the car slowed to a stop. Someone gently touched the beads on her wrist. Instinctively, she reached to protect them, eliciting a soft chuckle. Then came the sensation of a blanket being draped over her.

As the car started moving again, the soothing melody of “Eternal Joy” eased her nerves, and she fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke again, it seemed they had arrived. Yan Huaiqing had also reclined her seat and was lying quietly, facing the window, making it unclear whether she was resting.

The rain continued to fall. The windshield wipers swept translucent arcs across the glass. The colorful knitted blanket covering her felt slightly rough against the back of her hand in a few spots.

She quietly pulled it closer for a look and found two characters embroidered by hand: “Xiao Qing.” The stitches were so fine, as if woven with someone’s heartfelt thoughts.

Before she could silently trace the characters again, Yan Huaiqing turned and asked, “Awake?”

Lin Zhixia hummed in response. Sitting up, she noticed the car was parked outside a courtyard. Through the gray curtain of rain in the distance, the outlines of dark-tiled roofs and upturned eaves were faintly visible.

Clutching “Xiao Qing” in her palm, she asked in a sleep-roughened voice, “Where is this?”

“My grandmother’s old house,” Yan Huaiqing replied, opening the car door. The sound of rain suddenly sharpened. “Wait here while I unlock the gate.”

Lin Zhixia watched her step into the rain with an umbrella. The stone path beneath her feet gleamed from the wash of rainwater, droplets scattering from the umbrella ribs. A faint mist clung to her lashes.

Left by her grandmother.

The word “left” suggested the person was no longer here.

Lin Zhixia tightened her grip on the embroidered “Xiao Qing.”

After pushing the courtyard gate open, Yan Huaiqing returned to reposition the car, aligning the trunk with the sheltered corridor at the back of the house. Then, holding the umbrella, she helped Lin Zhixia out, tilting it just enough to shelter them in their own little world.

“Watch your step the stones are mossy and slippery,” her voice blended with the rain.

Lin Zhixia looked down at her feet, her fingers still clinging to the blanket, unwilling to let go, as if wanting to carry “Xiao Qing” back inside with her.

“Put it on if you’re cold,” Yan Huaiqing said thoughtfully.

The faint scent of rain mingled with agarwood, distinct in the damp air. Lin Zhixia couldn’t tell whose presence carried the fragrance.

“Has no one lived here for a long time?” Her voice was soft, as if afraid to disturb the rain-soaked tiles and bricks.

Yan Huaiqing closed the car door and guided her under the eaves of the front courtyard, shielding her with the umbrella. “I come back to stay for a few days occasionally. But there’s an aunt who cleans regularly, so it’s quite tidy.”

Lin Zhixia draped the blanket over her shoulders and surveyed the courtyard. It was a traditional Chinese-style private villa balanced, refined, and elegant.

Under the curtain of rain, gray-tiled roofs and white walls stood in silence, with delicate water curtains dripping from the upturned eaves. A few green vines crept along the courtyard walls, raindrops sliding off the leaves and tapping softly against the stone steps, creating a gentle, fragmented sound.

With the distant mountains shrouded in mist and the lingering haze, they seemed to be immersed in a damp ink-wash painting.

“Grandmother must have been a very elegant person,” Lin Zhixia remarked, turning her gaze back.

Yan Huaiqing closed her umbrella, shaking off the water droplets before glancing sideways at her. “Yes, she enjoyed tranquility and solitude. For as long as I can remember, she rarely went out.”

Lin Zhixia nodded and followed her through the rain-sheltered corridor into the house.

Once the lights were on, the interior glowed softly. The furnishings were classic yet not outdated, carrying a faint scent of solid wood that evoked a subtle sense of warmth, as if bridging the generations.

“Would you like some tea? Or perhaps milk?” Yan Huaiqing asked, removing her coat and hanging it on the rack.

Lin Zhixia carefully folded the blanket and placed it on the armrest of the sofa. “Tea is fine. I’ll help you brew it.”

Yan Huaiqing nodded and headed toward the kitchen.

From childhood, Lin Zhixia had been taught to adapt her behavior and reactions to her surroundings it seemed ingrained in her very genes. So she restrained her curiosity, refraining from looking around or speaking too much. Instead, she quietly assisted and waited patiently.

Yes, she hadn’t forgotten she was waiting for Yan Huaiqing’s gift.