Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 18
Chapter 18: Indescribable
Even though Professor Zhao had rearranged the performance order to give Banxia more time, she still couldn't find a suitable accompanist.
By the time it was her turn, night had fallen. The audience and judges were tired, some even yawning, just waiting for the results so they could go home.
Banxia, under everyone's gaze, walked onto the stage alone, her violin in hand.
"Why is she alone?"
"Where's her accompanist?"
"I heard something came up, and he couldn't make it."
"What's the point of playing without an accompanist? Just forfeit."
"I'm sleepy. I want to go home. Should we just leave?"
The audience murmured restlessly.
Banxia stood at the edge of the stage, listening to the whispers, her eyes fixed on the spotlight at the center.
The light was warm, with tiny dust motes dancing in its beam. It reminded her of the streetlight at the bus stop, waiting for her in the snowy night.
She blinked, and in that brief moment, she saw her mother's slender figure standing in the spotlight, her face etched with worry. "Mom is gone, Xiaxia. You're on your own now. This path is so difficult. Are you sure you can keep going?"
Banxia's eyes stung, but she didn't stop. She walked towards the light, past her mother's image, and into the spotlight.
"I'm fine, Mom. Not only can I keep going, but I can go even further, climb even higher mountains, and see a wider world."
She bowed to the audience, the warm light illuminating her.
It's no different, she thought. The streetlights, the spotlights in shop windows, the neon lights of the cafes… they all shine the same.
This is just like any other performance. No matter who the audience is, whether I have an accompanist or not, I just need to be true to myself, true to my music.
As she straightened up, the glimmer of tears in her eyes was gone, replaced by her usual carefree smile.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Banxia, a second-year student from the Orchestral Department. Today, I'll be performing Zigeunerweisen."
As soon as she finished speaking, a wave of gasps and murmurs swept through the audience. Some people leaned forward, craning their necks to see the stage. Others whispered excitedly to their companions, forgetting all decorum.
Even the professors exchanged surprised glances.
Did I just cause that much of a stir? Banxia wondered, surprised.
She heard the sound of a piano bench being moved behind her. Turning around, she finally understood the reason for the audience's reaction.
At the grand piano sat Ling Dong, the piano prodigy who had won the Rachmaninoff Competition, dressed in white.
The legendary figure's attire was rather unusual.
He wore a white shirt with wide, vintage-style sleeves and a deep V-neck, revealing a large expanse of his pale skin. Black silk trousers clung to his slender frame, accentuating his waist.
He looked as if he had grabbed a random costume from the backstage dressing room.
On anyone else, it might have looked comical. But Ling Dong's beauty was so striking, so ethereal, that even the cheap costume seemed to acquire an air of regal elegance.
Oblivious to the commotion in the audience, he brushed his long black hair back from his face, his pale fingers poised above the keys, and turned to look at Banxia.
His gaze, cool and clear as moonlight, met hers. He gave a slight nod, then his long, slender fingers moved, touching the keys.
The first note rang out.
The piano music was like the first snowflake of winter, falling from the high ceiling, cold and white, touching Banxia's violin strings, evoking a faint resonance.
More snowflakes fell, swirling in the wind, the world turning white, vast and desolate.
The mournful melody of the violin rose amidst the snowstorm, the wanderer's desperate song echoing in the frozen world. The music was filled with sorrow and anger, the emotions building layer upon layer, like a pale hand reaching out, gripping the hearts of the listeners.
"My chest feels so tight… My eyes are stinging," someone whispered.
"I can almost see a lonely car driving down a deserted highway on a snowy night, the homeless wanderer inside, almost suffocating with grief."
"Senior Ling Dong is so handsome! Like a prince… a prince accompanying Cinderella. And she's even dressed in grey, like Cinderella. I'm so jealous!" a girl clutched her chest, her face filled with envy.
"Do you really think she looks like Cinderella?" her companion shook her head. "I think she's more like a knight, a brave warrior battling through the snowstorm."
"Yeah, even Ling Dong's piano can't overshadow her. I don't know why, but I feel like crying. I think I'm a fan now."
At the judges' table, an elderly professor slammed his pen down. "This is outrageous! She's not even following the score! It's a complete mess! Young people these days have no respect for the classics! Don't you agree, Old Yu?"
Yu Anguo, usually strict and traditional, surprised him by disagreeing. "Old Yan, in this day and age, as educators of classical music, we should be thinking about how to pass on this tradition, how to make classical music relevant to young people again."
He adjusted his glasses. "I find her interpretation quite compelling—a lost wanderer, searching for meaning in a blizzard. She's given this piece a new meaning for our time. It's your old-fashioned thinking that needs updating. Just look at the students' reactions."
Professor Yan sputtered indignantly.
Zhao Zhilan quickly intervened. "Calm down, both of you. Let's listen to the rest of the piece. Regardless of anything else, her technique is undeniably solid, and her stage presence is remarkably mature and confident. She deserves our attention."
It's not just her technique, Zhao Zhilan thought. Her greatest strength is her ability to make the audience forget about her impressive skills and simply be moved by the music.
Technique can be acquired through practice, but this level of artistry is something many musicians strive for their entire lives and never achieve.
No wonder Xiaoyue feels threatened by her, Zhao Zhilan sighed inwardly. Xiaoyue is still a bit lacking in comparison.
She glanced at Shang Chengyuan, Xiaoyue's father, who was sitting in the audience.
With Shang here in person, it's hard to say who will win.
A teacher sitting next to Shang Chengyuan leaned over and whispered, "She's not bad, but she's still no match for your daughter. Our Xiaoyue won't lose to an ordinary student like her."
Shang Chengyuan glanced at him, his expression unreadable.
"Let's not talk about her. I'm more interested in Ling Dong."
"Ling Dong?" the teacher looked surprised. "Isn't he on leave? I haven't seen him all year. Why would he suddenly appear to accompany an unknown student? A Rachmaninoff Competition winner… it's a bit beneath him, isn't it?"
Shang Chengyuan: "I was worried about Ling Dong. His music had become lifeless, like a dying ember. But today… he's rekindled my hope."
"Oh, is that so?" the teacher, not quite understanding his meaning, simply nodded.
On stage, the piano music intensified, the blizzard raging, the violin soaring above the storm.
As the sharp, piercing notes reached their peak, everything shattered, the deadly cold overwhelming, the immense sorrow surging forth.
Yet, amidst the despair, a spark of defiance remained, flickering, struggling to rekindle in the blizzard.
"This is incredible! This adaptation is amazing! I have goosebumps!"
"So fast! Ricochet bowing, double harmonics… a demon is playing that violin!"
The violinists in the audience appreciated the technical brilliance of the performance.
But the piano students, accompanying their own violinists, were all thinking the same thing: Holy shit!
She's so unpredictable! If I were up there, I wouldn't be able to keep up! It's a good thing Ling Dong is accompanying her.
But how can he play so flawlessly with her, with such perfect synergy, with such a drastically altered score, without any rehearsal?
Genius is genius. It's like he's on a different level.
Yan Peng, watching the two musicians on stage, his face grim, clenched his jaw and turned to look at Shang Xiaoyue, who was staring at the stage, her face pale.
"No regrets? From now on, her brilliance will be undeniable," Yan Peng said coldly, watching Shang Xiaoyue's reaction.
Xiaoyue, sometimes, fate is unfair. Who would have thought that even with careful planning, things could backfire so spectacularly? No accompanist, and yet, Ling Dong himself steps in to accompany her, giving her the perfect opportunity to shine.
"I'm…scared," Shang Xiaoyue whispered, her hand gripping her wrist tightly, her body trembling slightly. "Scared, but also… incredibly excited."
"Even if I lose to her, I'll accept it," she said, tears welling up in her eyes, her lips pressed together. "You don't understand. I'm grateful I got to witness this performance. If she hadn't played today, this competition would have been meaningless to me."
On stage, the music ended, the final notes lingering in the air.
The wildflower that had bloomed in the summer sun had finally found her place on the grand stage, her brilliance undeniable.
The first person to stand up and applaud was Shang Chengyuan, sitting in the front row.
Seeing her father's gesture of approval, Shang Xiaoyue burst into tears.
But even as she cried, she stood up and applauded, her sobs mixing with the thunderous applause that filled the concert hall, silencing even the disgruntled Professor Yan.
Banxia stood center stage, her heart pounding. For a moment, she felt a tremor run through her, the world around her fading away.
She took a deep breath and turned to look at her accompanist.
He was a young, unfamiliar genius. They had never met before, but through their music, they had touched something deep within each other.
It was an indescribable feeling.
Banxia could almost feel his excitement, his exhilaration, the lingering echoes of the music in his mind.
He sat at the piano, staring at his hands, his pale skin gleaming in the spotlight, his eyes dark and intense.
"You…" Banxia extended her hand towards him.
He looked up sharply.
Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, his lips pale. His eyes, dark and turbulent, seemed to hold both fire and ice.
He struggled for a moment, his expression contorted with a sudden, inexplicable pain.
"Senior Ling Dong?" Banxia asked, puzzled.
Ling Dong pushed her hand away, stood up abruptly, and without a word, hurried off the stage.
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