Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 17
Chapter 17: The Bright Moon
As Pan Xuemei was applying Banxia's makeup, a middle-aged man entered the concert hall, causing a slight commotion.
Students in the audience who recognized him whispered among themselves, their eyes following him. The professors in the front row stood up to greet him. The man shook their hands, but declined their invitation to join them at the judges' table, choosing a seat in the front row instead.
Pan Xuemei's hand, holding the lip gloss, froze. She stared at the man's back, her expression darkening.
Banxia, puckering her lips, asked, "What's wrong?"
"That's…Xiaoyue's father," Pan Xuemei said, her voice tight. "The one who just came in. Shang Chengyuan, the conductor of the provincial symphony orchestra and our academy's honorary vice president."
With Shang Chengyuan sitting so prominently in the audience, which professor would dare not vote for his daughter? They're so blatant about it, Pan Xuemei thought, annoyed.
Shang Xiaoyue, sitting in the front row, wore a Miu Miu high-necked lace blouse and a Chanel cashmere skirt, her hair styled and makeup light, looking as radiant as the moon.
With a talented pianist as her accompanist and her influential father's presence, she was the epitome of privilege.
Banxia simply said "Oh," seemingly unconcerned, and continued to patiently wait for Pan Xuemei to apply her lip gloss, even winking at her playfully.
Looking at her friend, Pan Xuemei felt a pang of sympathy.
Banxia was always smiling, always cheerful, as if oblivious to the hardships of life. She was like a little sun, radiating warmth and happiness. But Pan Xuemei, her close friend, knew the truth about her struggles.
She had no family to support her, no one to pamper her. She didn't even have a proper dress for the competition.
Despite her exceptional talent, she had to work tirelessly, juggling her studies with multiple part-time jobs just to make ends meet.
Couldn't she at least have a fair chance to showcase her talent?
While her friend worried about her, Banxia, oblivious, was admiring her makeup in the mirror.
She complimented Pan Xuemei's skills, then pulled the ugly lizard out of her pocket and, in a bizarre display of affection, held it up and asked, "Do I look pretty, Xiao Lian?"
The selection competition began in this tense atmosphere.
The judges, all strict professors, sat with stern expressions. The first few contestants, understandably nervous, made mistakes.
Yu Anguo frowned, tapping his pen on the score sheet, muttering his usual complaint, "Each year is worse than the last. This is the worst class I've ever seen."
Professor Zhao Zhilan, more gentle, said, "I think there are a few promising students. I heard you recommended a student who came from a regular high school, Old Yu. I'm curious to see what kind of talent caught your eye."
"Just the best of a bad bunch. Another mediocre one," Yu Anguo sighed, shaking his head. But then, as if remembering something, his frown eased slightly.
When it was Shang Xiaoyue's turn, she stood up, turned sharply, and looked directly at Banxia, who was sitting behind her, her chin raised. "This time, I won't lose to you."
Banxia, who had been playing with Xiao Lian's tail, looked up, confused. "Huh?"
Shang Xiaoyue, her back straight, her skirt swishing around her ankles, walked onto the stage.
Banxia, feeling the eyes of everyone on her, covered her face with her hand and whispered to Pan Xuemei, "What was that about? That was so awkward."
Pan Xuemei sighed, looking at her oblivious friend. "It seems years of rivalry have finally come to a head. Just think of it as a dramatic showdown between two geniuses."
On stage, Shang Xiaoyue held her violin, looking out at the audience.
Yan Peng, standing beside her, chuckled. "Your father is here to support you. With him in the audience, you have nothing to worry about."
But Shang Xiaoyue didn't hear him.
The stage lights were bright, and the audience below seemed like a sea of faces. Her gaze scanned the crowd, settling on Banxia, who sat relaxed and smiling, whispering to Pan Xuemei.
She's never taken me seriously.
Shang Xiaoyue tightened her grip on her beloved violin.
I used to follow in your footsteps. But from today onwards, you will have to acknowledge me, see me as a rival you cannot ignore.
She nodded at her accompanist, and the vibrant melody of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D major filled the concert hall.
Tchaikovsky, the musical giant, had written only one violin concerto in his lifetime. It was a grand and complex work, technically demanding and emotionally challenging.
The professors in the audience looked up. "Excellent technique! Such a rich and powerful tone!"
"Her spiccato is so clean, and her bow control is impressive."
"Excellent! A truly gifted young woman. I wouldn't have thought a girl could play Tchaikovsky with such power."
The students in the audience whispered among themselves.
"Who is she?"
"Shang Xiaoyue, a second-year student. Her father is Shang Chengyuan, the conductor. A true prodigy, as expected."
"Tenths followed by continuous spiccato. That's incredibly difficult!"
"Oh my god, she's speeding up! Is she even human?"
On stage, Shang Xiaoyue was oblivious to the whispers. She was lost in the passionate music, the faces of her friends, rivals, teachers, and her father flashing before her eyes.
Her father sat in the audience, his expression as stern as always, watching her.
For some reason, at that moment, she remembered the music room in her childhood home.
That mysterious room, filled with her father's collection of precious violins.
As a child, she had snuck into the room, watching her father carefully polishing his violins with a soft cloth, his usually stern face softening with tenderness. Filled with envy, she had asked him if she could try playing the "Queen," one of his most prized antique violins.
"I'm afraid not, Xiaoyue. This is Daddy's precious treasure," her father had chuckled, patting her head. "If you practice diligently, one day, when your skills are worthy of the 'Queen,' I'll give it to you."
Dad, please look at me now, Shang Xiaoyue thought, standing in the spotlight, lost in the swirling melody. Am I worthy of your approval now? Am I worthy of playing the "Queen"?
The music ended, the final notes lingering in the air. A moment of silence, then a thunderous applause erupted.
Shang Xiaoyue's chest heaved as she wiped the sweat from her brow, her body trembling slightly.
She turned and shook hands with her accompanist.
"You were amazing, Xiaoyue! You're the best!" Yan Peng said, gripping her hand tightly.
Applause followed her as she walked off the stage.
Her friend Qiao Xin gave her a hug.
Even Pan Xuemei, her not-so-close roommate, reached out and put an arm around her. "Xiaoyue, I always thought Banxia was the best. But today, I'm truly impressed."
Shang Xiaoyue instinctively searched for Banxia's gaze.
Banxia was looking at her, her eyes clear, a spark of excitement in them. She gave her a thumbs-up.
The tension that had been gripping Shang Xiaoyue's heart finally eased.
She took a deep breath and glanced at her father, who was sitting in the front row.
All she saw was his back, as steady and unwavering as always.
The students in the audience whispered among themselves.
"She was incredible! There's no need for anyone else to even play."
"Her accompanist was amazing too! Yan Peng, a senior, right? If it weren't for Ling Dong, he would be the star of our school."
"It looks like Shang Xiaoyue has this competition in the bag."
"How many more are left? I'm not even interested in listening anymore."
Backstage, Banxia, about to go on, couldn't reach Wei Zhiming.
"Where is he? He's so unreliable!" Pan Xuemei paced anxiously.
Just then, a male student they had never met before approached them timidly. "Are you Banxia, the second-year violin student?" he whispered. "I'm Wei Zhiming's roommate. He had a bit too much to drink last night and is still throwing up in the bathroom. He insisted on coming to accompany you, but he's in no condition to play. So I told him I would come in his place."
Banxia and Pan Xuemei were stunned.
The boy scratched his head sheepishly. "But…the thing is…I don't really know this piece."
"What?!" Pan Xuemei exclaimed, jumping to her feet, drawing stares from those around them.
Banxia pulled her back down and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay," she took a deep breath, her gaze steady. "It's okay. We'll figure it out."
"But how? How are we going to figure this out?" Pan Xuemei looked at Banxia, her anxiety palpable.
At that moment, she realized that though Banxia was the same age as her, she possessed a maturity beyond her years, a calmness under pressure that came from facing life's challenges head-on.
"I can play without an accompanist. I'll just play my best and give it my all," Banxia said firmly.
Shang Xiaoyue, hearing the commotion, turned around and glanced at them.
Yan Peng, sitting beside her, chuckled. "That junior is quite naive. Just a little bit of alcohol, and he's completely incapacitated. I thought he might make a few mistakes, but I didn't expect him to be completely out of commission."
Shang Xiaoyue, listening to their conversation, didn't notice the hidden meaning in his words. After a moment of thought, she turned to him. "Yan Peng Ge, she's playing 'Zigeunerweisen.' You must know that piece. Can you accompany her?"
Yan Peng was usually charming and agreeable, always ready with a smile.
But at her words, his smile faltered. "You want me to accompany her?" he looked at Shang Xiaoyue in disbelief. "Xiaoyue, you know how talented she is. She's your strongest competitor. If she wins and represents the school, she'll be recognized, and she might even overshadow you."
Suddenly, something clicked for Shang Xiaoyue.
"You've…heard her play, haven't you?" she looked at him, her voice hesitant. "Yan Peng, did you do something?"
"No," Yan Peng quickly composed himself, adjusting his collar. "I just don't want to accompany someone I haven't rehearsed with. I don't want to embarrass myself if I make a mistake."
Looking at the innocent young woman before him, he felt a surge of inexplicable resentment, a mix of jealousy and anger, the source of which he couldn't quite identify.
Was it directed at Ling Dong, the genius he could never surpass, or at the pure, bright moon before him?
In the midst of this turmoil, no one noticed the movement in Banxia's coat pocket.
A black gecko peeked out, slipped down the chair, and scurried across the floor towards the backstage area.
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