Boiling a frog in warm water
Since that "drop-by" pick-up, Song Zhiyuan's frequency of appearing in Lin Xueyin's life has increased in a carefully calculated manner.
He did not make any move that crossed the line, nor did he make any further demands. He simply spread his presence slowly and steadily, like a drop of ink dropped into clear water.
Sometimes on Friday evenings, the black car would appear at the office door on time. He would still stand there, his posture straight and his face stern, but he no longer gave people an aggressive and oppressive feeling, but more like a silent and fixed landscape.
He would nod to Lin Xueyin, say "On my way," and then drive her back to the dormitory. Sometimes, he would show up on Sunday afternoons and take her to some less conspicuous but quite stylish places, such as a bookstore hidden in an alley, or a corner of a garden where she could drink tea quietly.
He seldom spoke, but spent most of his time walking beside her in silence or sitting opposite her, his eyes calm. He would pull out a chair for her, signal the waiter to refill her glass when it was empty, and buy a book she showed interest in without a word.
His behavior was full of the natural consideration of a well-educated person, but behind this consideration was an unquestionable control - he decided the itinerary and chose the location, and she only needed to follow passively.
Lin Xueyin's initial horrified resistance, followed by numb acceptance, and now, a near-reflexive obedience, had formed. Resistance was futile and would only lead to more unpredictable consequences. She had learned to remain silent in his presence, lowering her head and keeping her eyes submissive, like a programmed puppet.
The surrounding environment is also quietly changing.
The colleagues at work gradually became accustomed to the situation after their initial curiosity and envy. Sister Jiang no longer asked excitedly every time, but occasionally, with the understanding of someone who had experienced it, she patted Lin Xueyin's shoulder and said, "Comrade Song is here again? Go quickly, don't keep us waiting too long."
The other colleagues looked at her with a complex and indescribable look, a mixture of envy, alienation, and even a subtle awe.
They tacitly accepted the unusual relationship between Lin Xueyin and the "extraordinary Comrade Song". This tacit acceptance invisibly built an invisible barrier around her, isolating her from other more ordinary social interactions.
Once, a kind-hearted woman in the department wanted to introduce Lin Xueyin to someone, but just as she started, she was stopped by Sister Jiang with a wink. Afterwards, Sister Jiang privately said to Lin Xueyin, "Xiao Lin, I know you're aware of this. A man like Comrade Song... is beyond the reach of ordinary people like us, but since he's interested, don't overthink it. Just settle down and be stable."
Safe and secure? Lin Xueyin smiled bitterly inwardly. This kind of "stability," built on coercion and the unknown, was like walking on thin ice, each step filled with trepidation.
She felt like a frog being boiled in warm water. The water temperature was slowly rising, the barriers around her were gradually closing, and her strength to struggle seemed to be gradually worn away by the "habit" day after day.
---
At the same time, in the Song family compound.
Mother Song put down the teacup in her hand and looked at her stern-faced son sitting opposite her. Her tone was gentle but with a hint of subtle worry: "Zhiyuan, have you been going out... a lot recently?"
Song Zhiyuan raised his eyes, his expression calm: "Well, there are some things."
"Are you...going to see Comrade Lin?" Song's mother asked tentatively. She knew a little about her son's recent movements. She had handled the job transfer for the girl from North City and had a thorough background check. Her family background was clean and her personal qualities were acceptable, though she seemed a little soft-tempered.
She didn't object to her son dating a woman. Given the status of the Song family, if the girl could behave herself, it wouldn't be impossible to give her a proper place in the future. But she knew her son well, and his personality...
Song Zhiyuan did not deny it, but just said "hmm" lightly.
Mother Song looked at his stubborn expression and sighed softly, "Zhiyuan, I know you have your own ideas. But when it comes to treating a female comrade, especially one like her... since you've taken a fancy to her and have considered her benefits, you can't always act so businesslike and condescending. Girls need to be coaxed and treated gently."
She paused, then spoke earnestly, "Families like ours need to be more careful about how and what we do. A forced melon won't be sweet. Even if you get it by trickery, if you harbor resentment, it will only cause trouble in the future. Your grandfather and your father won't interfere with you, but they hope you can handle it properly."
Song Zhiyuan listened in silence, his fingers tapping unconsciously on his knees. He took his mother's advice to heart, but he didn't fully agree with it.
Gentle? Coaxing?
In his view, those were merely inefficient tactics. He was accustomed to control, to precise strikes, to achieving his goals through the shortest possible route. He had already invested far more patience in Lin Xueyin than he had anticipated. He hadn't forced her to remain confined to his side, allowing her to work and have simple social interactions. In his view, this was already a great act of "gentleness" and "concession."
He knew that his attraction to her was not due to his personality or emotions, but to the power, resources and absolute control he represented. This attraction was fatal to her, who was in a vulnerable position and longed for stability.
He doesn't need to try to please her like a young boy. He just needs to continue to show his presence and power, make her accustomed to it, make her dependent on him, and make her clearly realize that obeying him is the best choice. That's enough.
As for whether there were any lingering feelings… a barely perceptible coldness flashed across Song Zhiyuan's eyes. Time would smooth everything out. When she had completely adapted to the life he had given her, when he was the only one left in her world, those initial fears and resentment would naturally fade, eventually replaced by dependence and habit.
"Mom, I know what I'm doing," he finally said, his voice still calm and emotionless. "I know what to do."
Mother Song looked at her son's determined eyes and knew that saying more would be futile. This son had always been opinionated, and once he made up his mind, nothing could change it. She could only hope that his so-called "knowledge" wouldn't lead to a situation that got out of hand.
"It's good that you know." Song's mother shook her head helplessly, "Just don't forget, when dealing with others, leaving some room is also leaving room for yourself."
Song Zhiyuan nodded in response. But what he was thinking was that when it came to things that belonged to him, he didn't need to be lenient. He had to have complete control over what he set his sights on.
After leaving his mother's place, Song Zhiyuan returned to his study. He picked up the latest report from Chen Mo on the table, which briefly recorded Lin Xueyin's recent life: work was normal, her relationships with Jiang Weihong and Sun Mei were stable, her emotions... tended to be stable, and she no longer showed any obvious resistance to his regular appearances.
"It's becoming stable... no obvious resistance..." He repeated these words in a low voice, with an almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.
It seems that his way is right.
Boiling a frog in warm water is a slow process but has significant effects.
His little canary is slowly adapting to the temperature and rhythm of the cage.
As for the "gentleness" his mother mentioned... perhaps, next time they met, he could try a more... "gentle" approach? For example, giving her a bouquet of flowers? Or taking her to a concert?
The thought flashed through his mind, but he immediately rejected it. It was too deliberate, not in line with his style, and not necessarily what she truly needed.
It's better to maintain the status quo. Continuous, stable, and unquestionable existence is itself the most powerful force.
He put down the report and looked out the window. The summer sun was shining brightly, and the shadows of the trees were swaying.
He had plenty of time to slowly grow accustomed to her, until she was completely accustomed to his breath, his rhythm, and his control, until that fragile barrier was completely transferred from her heart to her body, completely enveloping her in his domain.
Lin Xueyin, however, was oblivious to all this. She simply felt the water's temperature rise a bit, and the surrounding barrier thicken a bit. Standing in the center of the barrier, she watched the silent yet powerful man approach again and again, her heart filled with confusion and a sense of powerlessness bordering on resignation.
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