Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Just a Little More Time

Banxia was sketching musical notes on a piece of hotel stationery, humming as she wrote.

Xiao Lian crawled over and looked at the page covered in musical notations. "What's this?"

"A cadenza," Banxia said, chewing on her pen. "For the final round. I'm thinking of writing my own."

A cadenza was typically an unaccompanied, virtuosic passage near the end of a concerto movement, often improvised by the soloist.

In the past, performers would often compose their own cadenzas.

But nowadays, most musicians chose to play established cadenzas written by famous composers or performers, to avoid mistakes.

"Your own cadenza?" Xiao Lian's voice was laced with concern as he looked at the notes on the page. His small, black body against the white paper, the dark ink of the musical notations, created a strangely harmonious picture.

Banxia knew his concerns. It was a risky move.

For the Beethoven Violin Concerto, countless violinists, including giants like Heifetz and Oistrakh, had written their own cadenzas. To attempt to write her own, especially with so little time before the competition, seemed… audacious.

"I know it's not the smartest move, but I can't help it. After today's performance, I had this… idea, this melody in my head, and I have to try it, even if the judges don't like it," Banxia said, alternating between playing the notes on her violin and writing them down. "If I have my own interpretation of the piece, I want to express it fully, even in the cadenza."

She suddenly understood why Xiao Lian, and even Senior Ling Dong, enjoyed composing.

When inspiration struck, when a melody demanded to be expressed, even the risk of losing the competition, the prize money, couldn't suppress that creative urge.

Thinking of the prize money, Banxia's face fell. It was the one thing she truly cared about.

"Eight thousand yuan… it would be a shame to lose it," she sighed, then quickly brightened. "But even if I play a perfect, conventional cadenza, there's no guarantee I'll win. I might not even make it past the semi-finals!"

Xiao Lian slid off the table and crawled towards his phone on the nightstand, struggling to reach it.

"What's wrong?" Banxia picked him up along with his phone.

He sat on her lap, unlocked his phone, opened his QR code, and turned to look at her expectantly.

"You want me to add you?" Banxia asked, amused, then scanned his code, adding him on various platforms.

Xiao Lian, with surprising dexterity, linked their accounts, then showed her his account balance.

It was a little over ten thousand yuan. Not a huge amount, but every penny had been earned through his music on Red Orange, a painstaking process given his… limitations.

He sat up straighter, his little chest puffed out, eager to see her reaction.

Banxia, playing along, gasped dramatically, picked him up, and swung him around in the air.

Xiao Lian, looking at her happy face, felt a surge of pride.

He had earned much more in the past, from endorsements and performances, but this was the first time he had felt such satisfaction from his own earnings.

"Where did you get all this money, Xiao Lian? So, you've been buying me all those delicious meals! It wasn't magic after all!"

Xiao Lian looked at her, his eyes gleaming. "Give me… a little more time. I'll tell you everything… soon."

Just a few more days, he thought. If things continue to improve, if my time… stops shrinking… I'll tell her everything.

And then, I'll never leave her side.

The thought warmed him from the inside out, like a sip of fine wine, a pleasant, intoxicating warmth.

"Okay, I'll wait," Banxia said, beaming.

He's not just sweet, gentle, and adorable, she thought. He's a great cook, he's… hot, and he even earns his own money!

I'm so lucky!

But it makes me look bad, she thought, a twinge of guilt. I should be the one earning money.

After all, she was much bigger than him.

---

Back in Rongcheng, Yu Anguo sat on his sofa, scrolling through his phone. His wife, Gui Fangling, walked over. "How's the competition going? Is Xiaxia doing alright?"

Yu Anguo nodded. "I just heard she made it through the preliminaries. The semi-finals shouldn't be a problem. I'm more worried about the finals."

"What about the finals?"

"Her Zigeunerweisen and Tchaikovsky were decent," he frowned. "But there are many strong competitors this year. I don't think her final piece is… strong enough."

"What's she playing for the finals?"

Yu Anguo's frown deepened. "She insisted on choosing the Beethoven. Said she likes Beethoven."

"Beethoven?" Gui Fangling chuckled. "I think it suits her style."

"Her training wasn't very systematic before she came to Rongyin. She hasn't really mastered the longer, more complex pieces. And there's not enough time to prepare properly for the competition," Yu Anguo sighed, waving his hand dismissively. "Well, as long as she gets through the preliminaries and semi-finals, it's a win. Making it to the top ten is respectable. After all, the students from the Central, Shanghai, and China Conservatories are all very strong this year."

Gui Fangling gently massaged his shoulders. "Don't worry so much. Xiaxia is a talented girl. Her music has soul. Every time she plays, I can hear her growing, her understanding deepening. Who knows how she'll perform in the next round?"

"I hope you're right," Yu Anguo sighed, then suddenly remembered something. "Do you know who just called me?"

"Who?"

"You'll never guess. Jiang Lin. He's back in China, as a judge for the competition. And he specifically asked about Xiaxia."

---

In Beijing, a stranger knocked on Banxia's hotel room door.

The man introduced himself as Jiang Lin's assistant and handed her a business card, inviting her to meet at a teahouse.

After he left, Banxia sat by the window, staring at the embossed gold lettering on the card.

"Jiang…"

She remembered the chubby boy from her childhood, teasing her about her name, saying that "banxia" was a poisonous herb.

She had beaten him up and run home to her mother, her voice filled with indignation.

"Why is my name Banxia?!"

"Well, when I registered your birth, I initially wrote 'Jiang Banxia'," her mother had said, scratching her head sheepishly. "Then someone called and said that 'banxia' is a medicinal herb, its roots and leaves slightly poisonous, but when combined with ginger, it becomes beneficial, its harshness softened."

"Then, at the registration office, I suddenly thought, if it grows wild, it should keep its wildness, its… potency. A little bit of poison will protect you, keep you safe, so you can grow strong and free. So I just… dropped the 'Jiang'."

She hadn't understood then, but now, she realized that "Jiang" was her father's surname, "Ban" her mother's.

If her mother hadn't had a glimmer of hope, she wouldn't have given her that name.

If she had had a choice, she would have preferred her daughter to grow up with both parents, sheltered and loved.

Xiao Lian climbed onto her shoulder. "I'll go with you."

Banxia looked at him and gently stroked his head. "Of course you will."

"I mean… in my human form," Xiao Lian clarified.

Banxia smiled. "You're perfect just the way you are. It's just a meeting, not a fight. Why would you need to transform? As long as you're with me, that's all that matters."

Even if it was a fight, she thought, it's my fight.

She put on her coat, Xiao Lian still perched on her shoulder, and left.

---

The air in Beijing was dry, unlike the humid coastal air of Rongcheng.

The winter sky was a dull grey, no vibrant sunset colors, just a pale, washed-out sky.

As the sun set, the city lights outlined the towering buildings.

The teahouse was near the Central Conservatory of Music, by the West Moat.

Banxia walked there, crossing a small bridge over the shimmering water, and entered a private room, where the middle-aged man was waiting for her.

A pot of tea sat on the table. Jiang Lin, seeing her, rinsed a teacup and poured her some tea.

Banxia sat down, looking at her reflection in the clear liquid, surprised by her own calmness.

Xiao Lian's warmth on her shoulder, her music a steady presence within her…

The road ahead might be uncertain, but she was no longer the scared, lost child she had once been. She had finally emerged from the shadows of her past, even in the presence of this man.

She looked up, her gaze meeting his.

Jiang Lin's heart sank.

Up close, her eyes and eyebrows were her mother's, but there was also… a hint of him in her features.

He didn't need confirmation. He knew she was his daughter, the consequence of a youthful mistake.

But her gaze was so clear, so direct, so unsettling, like a cold, still pond, reflecting his own image back at him, devoid of warmth, of expectation, of even… recognition.

She knew.

In a confrontation like this, when one party was so calm and composed, the other, especially the one with a guilty conscience, would inevitably falter.

"Your… your mother might have told you some things about me," Jiang Lin said, avoiding her gaze. "But things are… complicated. There are always two sides to every story. You shouldn't just listen to one side."

"My mother never spoke of you," Banxia said. "I only learned your name by chance."

Jiang Lin was taken aback. "Then why are you here? At this competition? Did you come because you heard I was a judge? Hoping to…"

He stopped, seeing the amusement in her eyes, a clear mockery that made him flush with embarrassment, regretting his impulsive decision to meet her.

But he was also worried. If he didn't take control of the situation, this girl, his own flesh and blood, might cause a scene at the competition, expose him, and that would be disastrous.

A bit of gossip wouldn't normally bother him, especially living abroad, where such things were commonplace.

But his wife was a formidable woman, her family owning a significant stake in the world's largest music review website, wielding considerable influence in the classical music world. And her father was a renowned music critic.

With his career in decline, he couldn't afford to antagonize his wife, even though she was known for her own indiscretions. He couldn't give her any ammunition.

So, he pressed on, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "I just… I wanted to talk to your mother. Or if you have any… requests, anything I can do to help… perhaps I can find you a place at a better university, or… offer you some financial assistance…"

Banxia looked at him, the man before her so different from the image she had held in her mind, the distant, god-like figure on the stage.

He was just a middle-aged man, his hair greying at the temples, his face lined, his eyes tired, his words laced with a desperate plea.

She suddenly felt a profound sense of disappointment, of… indifference. She interrupted him. "I came here today, partly to meet you, for my younger self, the naive child I once was. And partly to ask you for a favor."

Jiang Lin hesitated. "What is it?"

"I have only one request," Banxia said slowly, her voice clear and firm. "Never, ever, mention our… connection to anyone. We have no connection. We never did, and we never will."

Her expression, her tone, reminded him of his first love, the girl with the same proud, defiant spirit, the same untamed wildness.

Though she had come from a humble background, offered him no social or career advantages, he had been drawn to her, captivated by her unique charm.

Jiang Lin stared at her, stunned. He had never expected this.

"Of…of course," he stammered, relieved. "Where is your mother now? How is she doing?"

He had finally remembered to ask.

Banxia stood up, looking down at him, her eyes cold as ice, filled with a chilling anger.

The black gecko on her shoulder nuzzled her cheek.

She took a deep breath, glanced at the menu, pulled out a few small bills from her wallet, and tossed them at his feet.

"Half the cost of the tea. Remember what I said. We're done. Don't ever contact me again. Don't even acknowledge me, not at the competition, not at any concert, not ever. Even being associated with you is… distasteful."

She turned and walked away, leaving Jiang Lin speechless, his face pale.

"How dare you!" he shouted, rising to his feet. "I'm your…"

He couldn't say the word, not here, in public. He swallowed his anger. "Where's your mother? I want to see her!"

Banxia stopped, but didn't turn around. "My mother passed away six years ago."

She didn't see his reaction.

Six years ago, she thought. She was free of you.

And so am I.

Banxia walked back to the hotel along the banks of the moat.

From her hotel window, she could see the dark water winding through the city, the elevated highways crisscrossing above it, the streetlights and taillights of cars reflected in the water, a shimmering tapestry of light and shadow.

The room was dark. Banxia stood by the window, her hand resting on the glass, her gaze lost in the shimmering reflections.

Xiao Lian sat on her shoulder, watching her silently.

The red taillights of cars snaked across the highway, the reflections in the water shifting and changing, like a dream.

It reminded her of her mother's final days, the red lights flashing outside her hospital window.

A helpless, thirteen-year-old Banxia had sat by her mother's bedside, her tears soaking the sheets. "I wish I had never been born. Your life would have been so much better without me."

Her mother, her hand, with its IV drip, reaching out to stroke her hair, had said, "Don't say that, Xiaxia. You can't erase the joy you brought into my life. I've made many mistakes, but having you… that's been my greatest happiness."

"It might not seem like much to others, but everyone finds happiness in different ways. Some find it in love, some in their careers. My happiness… was you."

"Thank you for coming into my life, Xiaxia."

"When I'm gone… promise me you'll find your own happiness."

Banxia, looking out at the shimmering lights, whispered, "You were so foolish, Mom. He wasn't worth it."

She covered her eyes with her hand. "I miss you. I wish you could see me now."

Her reflection shimmered in the glass, a blurry outline against the city lights. A male figure appeared behind her.

A pair of strong, pale arms wrapped around her waist, a black tail coiling around her legs, pulling her into a warm embrace.

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