Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Is It Dead?
During lunch break, the campus radio was broadcasting a piano piece—a live recording of a Rongyin student winning the gold medal at the Rachmaninoff International Piano Competition the previous year.
Winning a world-class music competition like the Rachmaninoff Competition wasn't something just anyone could achieve with a bit of effort. Even nationwide, pianists who had achieved a good ranking in the competition were few and far between. The winner received not only fame but also numerous contract offers from renowned concert halls. It was a path to instant stardom.
This event had caused a sensation in the domestic classical music scene and added a glorious chapter to Rongyin's wall of honor. Rongyin students were all proud and loved to talk about it. Even now, the radio announcer spoke of it with excitement and admiration.
The piano's delicate tones and lingering overtones on the radio combined into a powerful resonance, vividly simulating the cheerful ringing of bells in a countryside forest. It was a technically demanding piece, and the performer's virtuosity was breathtaking.
"Senior Ling's absolute control over the timbre is so amazing! Even with a showpiece like Liszt, his tone is flawless. He's like a god," Pan Xuemei said as they walked along the campus path, her steps lightened by the music. "Xia, have you met Senior Ling? I'm a huge fan of his. It's a pity he hasn't been on campus much this year. I haven't had a chance to see him."
Banxia, walking beside her, carried her violin case and backpack. She held a twig in her hand, poking at the roadside shrubs as she walked.
Hearing this, she replied casually, "I saw him once at the school's New Year's concert last year. He seemed rather aloof, so I didn't get to talk to him."
Banxia wasn't very interested in the campus celebrities. She only remembered this senior's name because he was so famous within the school.
"Ah, you've actually met him! What's he like? Is my idol's piano playing even more amazing live?" Pan Xuemei twirled excitedly in her short cashmere skirt.
"His technique is indeed unparalleled," Banxia dropped the twig, "but I always feel…like something's missing."
Finding a live insect in the middle of winter seemed like a difficult task.
"What could be missing?!" Pan Xuemei almost jumped. "He's the Rachmaninoff Competition champion! The Rachmaninoff! Do you know what that means?!"
"No, no, I'm just rambling," Banxia quickly backpedaled, seeing her friend getting upset. Listening to the music on the radio, she pondered. "His technique is practically textbook perfect. But honestly, when I listen to his playing, I don't feel… that vibrant, firework-like quality."
Pan Xuemei rolled her eyes. "What kind of weird analogy is that? What do you mean, 'firework-like'?"
However, deep down, she trusted her friend's ear. So, she nudged Banxia. "Well, then, tell me. Whose playing *does* have that quality? I'd like to worship them too."
"Not counting the famous piano masters… In real life, I did hear it once when I was little," Banxia tapped her chin. "There was a boy who played the piano in Old Mr. Mu's house next door. How should I put it? His playing had a kaleidoscope of colors. I still remember that sound to this day."
"When…when you were little? How old were you then?"
"I don't remember. Maybe six or seven years old."
"Six or seven? Seriously? You're comparing a little kid to my idol?"
"Okay, okay, your idol is the best," Banxia conceded, not wanting to provoke her further. "But that kid really played well. Every summer vacation, he would come from the city and play the piano at Old Mr. Mu's house. We used to play together back then."
He was a boy who always dressed neatly, prettier than a little girl.
What was his name?
Banxia realized she couldn't remember. She couldn't recall her childhood playmate's name or face. All that remained vivid in her memory was the piano music, childish yet rich, colorful, and intoxicating.
Rongcheng Music Academy, or Rongyin for short, was located in the university town on the outskirts of Rongcheng. Since the establishment of the university town, many local residents had renovated their houses to rent them out to students and employees of the nearby cultural and creative park. Ying Jie was one of them.
In the afternoon, Ying Jie, having just woken up after a night of mahjong, was brushing her teeth at the sink in her pajamas. Seeing the girl from the farthest room on the third floor returning at such an unusual hour, she quickly spat out the foam and called out, "Xiaoyue, your rent is due."
Banxia’s rented room was located at the corner of the third-floor corridor. It was very small, and the monthly rent was only 300 yuan, making it one of the cheapest in the area. Of course, the conditions inside were very basic, and it was relatively far from the school. Usually, during lunch break, she would stay in the school's practice rooms or the library and rarely come back.
"I know, Ying Jie. I'll transfer it to you soon," Banxia replied, her violin case and backpack on her back, as she hurried up the stairs.
Pushing open the door, bringing a gust of fresh, cold air into the small room, she found it as quiet as always.
The small dishes lined up neatly against the wall, the food inside untouched.
The lizard in the towel remained in the same position as when Banxia had left, curled up, unresponsive.
"Hey, I'm back."
"You didn't eat anything. Are you not used to this food?"
The inky black body curled in the towel remained motionless, lifeless.
"Um…are you asleep?"
"Hello? Can you hear me?"
A bad feeling crept into Banxia's heart.
She reached out and gently poked the lizard. The creature that had stumbled into her room last night, covered in rainwater and stepping onto her palm, now limply rolled to the side at the touch of her finger.
Last night, in the wind and rain, she hadn't seen clearly. Now, at noon, in the bright light, Banxia noticed that the lizard's body was not only covered in mud but also had many small wounds. A particularly noticeable gash tore across its back near its shoulder blade.
Is it dead?
The terrifying thought surfaced uncontrollably.
In that instant, the pale, thin figure with the wound on its back from her dream last night overlapped with the lizard before her.
Could it be that a magical talking lizard had just died in her home?
No, it might not just be able to talk. It might even be able to transform into an adult human at night.
What if a grown man's body, completely naked, suddenly appeared in her tiny rented room?!
This horrifying thought sent a shiver down her spine. Her heart was torn in two—one half grieving for the poor creature's demise, the other half terrified of the potential horror she might face.
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