Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 27
Chapter 27: Ill-Timed Sunlight
Ying Jie, in the middle of a mahjong game, noticed her friend nudge her and wink.
She turned and saw the young man from the third floor standing outside under the warm yellow streetlight.
He wore his usual soft shirt and dark cashmere coat, his gaze fixed on the distant end of the village road.
"Xiao Dong, going out?" Ying Jie called out.
The young man turned, a faint smile touching his lips, nodded at them, and walked slowly down the road.
Watching his receding figure, the women at the mahjong table began to gossip.
"He even smiled at us! Oh, if I were twenty years younger…"
"Get real! Even if you were thirty years younger, you wouldn't stand a chance."
"Xiao Dong is a good lad, but he's such a homebody. He's always cooped up in his apartment, except when he's getting takeout. This is the first time I've seen him go out for a walk."
The village roads were narrow, the streetlights dim, sparsely placed houses on one side, overgrown weeds and bushes on the other.
Though it was early evening, the night air was already chilly.
Ling Dong pulled his coat tighter. It had been a long time since he had ventured outside in his human form. Lately, he had felt a strange urge to walk, to be outside.
The weeds by the roadside rustled in the wind, their resilient stalks swaying in the darkness.
In an hour or so, she would cycle past, a fleeting gust of wind, then hurry upstairs, her footsteps light and quick.
Even though just two days ago, she had been lying in her small apartment, pale and sweating, enduring a bout of stomach pain.
Ling Dong hadn't known that someone could be so full of life, so resilient, even in the harshness of winter.
Just being near her, seeing her smile, made him feel like the world wasn't just darkness, that there was still sunlight somewhere.
He walked slowly along the overgrown path, past the warm yellow streetlights and the houses with their windows glowing.
The creaking of a door startled him. An elderly woman, leaning on a cane, emerged from an old house.
She wore a thick coat and a clean, checkered scarf, old-fashioned glasses perched on her nose. She looked like a kind, intelligent woman.
She slowly closed the door behind her and shuffled past Ling Dong, two one-yuan bills clutched in her hand.
She walked a few steps, then turned to the young man in the thin coat. "Young man, are you going towards the village entrance? Could you buy me a tube of toothpaste?"
The village entrance, with its brightly lit bus stop and small grocery store, was less than five hundred meters away, visible from where they stood.
But for an elderly woman, it was a long way.
The young man under the streetlight seemed to hesitate for a moment, then took the two yuan from her wrinkled hand.
At the grocery store, Ling Dong bought a bag of flour, a pair of slippers, some clothes hangers, and a potted Chinese evergreen. But he couldn't find a two-yuan tube of toothpaste.
"Oh, we're out of the small ones," the shopkeeper said, glancing at the well-dressed young man, slightly surprised. The cheap toothpaste was usually bought only by the elderly residents of the village. He picked up a larger box. "How about this one? Same brand, but more value for your money. Seven yuan."
Ling Dong, carrying the plant and the plastic bag, the tube of toothpaste in his other hand, returned to the old house and handed the toothpaste to the elderly woman, who was waiting for him on the doorstep.
Most of the houses in the village had been renovated, replaced with modern concrete structures. But some of the old houses remained, with their weathered red brick walls and traditional tiled roofs.
"Oh dear, this one is more than two yuan. I have to pay you back," the woman said, refusing to take the toothpaste. She used her cane to support herself as she stood up and shuffled back inside. "Wait here, just a moment."
Ling Dong tried to hand her the toothpaste, but she hurried inside.
He was about to just leave the things on the doorstep, but looking at her frail figure, he hesitated and waited.
From the doorway, he could see the small courtyard of the old house, surrounded by red brick walls. The courtyard was clean and tidy, with flowerpots of various sizes arranged on tiered stands. Even in winter, a few red flowers bloomed in the night.
Beyond the courtyard were two or three rooms, their windows old and weathered, the paint peeling from the wooden frames.
Standing in the cold night air, Ling Dong was suddenly reminded of the summers of his childhood.
He had sat in his grandfather's house, playing the piano, in a similar old courtyard, surrounded by red brick walls and blooming flowers.
He almost expected a small head to pop up over the wall, calling out, "Xiao Lian, come play!"
The elderly woman emerged from the house, relieved to see him still there. As she got older, she had become more stubborn, more resistant to accepting charity or pity, especially when it came to money.
The young man on her doorstep, whom she had initially seen as pale and lifeless, like a figure made of ice and snow, now seemed… different, his expression softer, more approachable.
She smiled, pressing five yuan and a small bag of cookies into his hand. "Thank you so much, young man."
"Do you…live here alone?" Ling Dong asked.
"I had a husband, but he passed away two years ago. My children live abroad. They rarely come home," she said, adjusting her glasses, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening.
The dim streetlight illuminated her sparse hair and wrinkled skin. She looked frail, her aging body standing precariously in the empty courtyard.
But her smile was bright, and behind her, the flowers bloomed defiantly in the winter night.
"I'm old, an old monster," she chuckled, suddenly feeling chatty. "People say my time is almost up. But I'm not ready to go yet. I want to live a few more years, see more of this beautiful world, these beautiful flowers…"
Back in his apartment, Ling Dong placed the potted Chinese evergreen on the windowsill and sat down at his second-hand electric piano.
His feet gently pressed the pedals, his fingers touched the keys, and the music flowed, filling the dimly lit room.
He had always played on expensive, top-of-the-line pianos, endorsed by him, displayed prominently in music stores.
This electric keyboard was like a toy in comparison, unable to fully express his skill.
But at this moment, he felt like a child again, discovering the joy of music for the first time, his heart free from worries, filled only with the beauty of the notes.
His phone, resting on the piano, glowed faintly in the darkness.
The play counts for his songs on Red Orange were steadily increasing. The screen displayed a flood of comments from listeners.
【Hey man, your music is awesome!】
【Master, can you tell me how you adjusted the EQ on the drums in "Through the Wall"? The spatial effect is amazing!】
【I love "Misty Forest." It speaks to my soul. I often feel like a monster, lost in a confusing world.】
【I was feeling down today, but listening to "Monster in the Rain" reminded me of some beautiful memories. It gave me the strength to keep going. Thank you.】
【When are you going to livestream again? "Mermaid" made me cry!】
These people didn't know him, and he didn't know them. But scattered across different cities, they connected with his music.
Even though he was a monster, his music touched their hearts. Someone in this world appreciated his music, acknowledged his soul.
Ling Dong closed his eyes, his feet pressing the pedals, his fingers dancing across the keys.
The plant on the windowsill was a vibrant green, full of life.
The world outside his window wasn't just darkness anymore. Sometimes, it was a magnificent magenta, sometimes a mysterious cobalt green.
Even though there were demons lurking in the night, thorns and twisted branches, monstrous shadows, there was also life, blooming in vibrant colors, leaves unfurling, tenacious and resilient.
He was enveloped by the familiar notes, the glowing screen connecting him to voices from all corners of the world.
And next door, in that small apartment, was a place where he could rest, a place that felt like home.
His weary soul, lifted by the music, his aching heart, finally finding solace.
When Banxia returned, the piano music next door was still playing.
His music is getting even better, she thought, pausing on the stairs to listen. I must have been deaf before, to think his playing was bland and lifeless.
She opened the door to her apartment. Xiao Lian was gone. A small bowl of steaming hot pork tripe and lotus seed soup sat in the thermos on the table.
The lotus seeds were soft and sweet, the tripe crisp and tender, the creamy broth soothing and flavorful, without a hint of gaminess.
After drinking half the soup, Banxia felt a warmth spread through her stomach. She felt completely recovered, full of energy.
Xiao Lian seemed to have his own routine, sneaking out every night and returning just before dawn.
Even so, during her illness, he had meticulously prepared easily digestible, yet delicious meals for her.
Not just supper and breakfast, but even her lunch for school the next day.
She wondered how much effort he had put in, silently working in the quiet darkness of the night.
Banxia lay on her bed, her stomach and heart warm and content.
She had been alone for so long. When had anyone ever taken care of her like this?
Xiao Lian, though black as night, was like a little sun, constantly warming her heart.
The piano music next door drifted through the wall, and Banxia closed her eyes, the melody washing over her like a gentle tide.
The noise of the hallway faded away. She sank into the music, the world around her shifting between shades of rose and teal, beautiful and dreamlike.
In the pre-dawn darkness, Banxia opened her eyes and saw Xiao Lian climbing down the curtains. He looked exhausted, collapsing into his terrarium and falling asleep instantly, clutching his little towel.
He must be so tired, taking care of me, she thought, watching him sleep.
The little gecko, his tiny claws gripping his towel, lay on his back, his pale belly exposed.
Outside, the wind rustled the leaves, the stars still visible in the pre-dawn sky, the boundary between night and day blurring.
In the dim corner of the room, the black gecko was gone. In his place, a young man lay sleeping on the floor, his back to her.
Banxia's eyes widened.
The faint light filtering through the security bars cast a grid of shadows on his pale back and long legs.
His neck was white and slender, a healed scar visible on his shoulder.
He looked like a prince in exile, a prisoner trapped in the shadows.
Xiaoyue's words from the previous night echoed in Banxia's mind.
She found herself getting out of bed, drawn to the sleeping figure in the corner.
His face was hidden in the shadows, his long black hair obscuring his features. Only the pale curve of his jaw and his beautifully shaped lips were visible.
Banxia's heart began to race.
In the quiet darkness of the early morning, in the narrow, shadowy corner of her room, something unfamiliar, something wild and untamed, stirred within her.
She felt a sudden urge to do something… impulsive, something she wouldn't normally do.
She wanted to turn him over, lift his chin, brush his hair back from his face, force him to meet her gaze.
And perhaps… something more.
The room was silent, the only sounds his steady breathing and her own pounding heart.
She bit her lip and reached out towards his pale shoulder. Just then, the first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating her outstretched hand.
The smooth, pale shoulder was gone. In the warm morning light, only a small lizard lay sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the world around him.
BWAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAHA
ReplyDeleteSXY REALLY GAVE HER SUCH AN IDEA LOL