Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 47
Chapter 47: Dress of Moonlight
The Central Conservatory of Music was located near the competition venue.
As Zhang Qinyun left the practice room, two younger students greeted him. "Hello, Senior!" they chirped, smiling.
Zhang Qinyun smiled back, addressing them by name. "Hello, Lexuan, Xiaohui."
As he walked downstairs, he overheard their conversation.
"His outfit is so stylish today!"
"Yes! He has such great taste! And he's so polite! He must come from a good family!"
Downstairs, a male student clapped him on the shoulder. "How did the practice go, Lao Zhang?"
"Not bad. I should make it through the semi-finals," Zhang Qinyun said, giving him a high five.
Outside the practice room building, a group of students carrying large posters called out to him. "Yun Ge, we're having a mixer with the dance department tonight! Want to come?"
"Join us, Qinyun! We always get more girls when they hear the 'Violin Prince' is coming!"
"Sorry, I have to practice for the competition. Maybe next time."
Zhang Qinyun got on his bicycle, his coat billowing behind him as he rode towards the school gate, students greeting him along the way.
He smiled and waved back, acknowledging each greeting.
"Isn't he representing the school in the Collegiate Cup? I heard his teacher is preparing him for the Menuhin Competition next year!"
"Talented, handsome, and so friendly! He's perfect!"
"No wonder they call him the 'Violin Prince.' I wonder what his family is like. His parents must be amazing."
As he left the campus, his usual cheerful demeanor faded.
Under the grey sky, he cycled in silence, past the gleaming skyscrapers, through narrow alleyways cluttered with discarded objects, and stopped in front of a nondescript apartment building.
"Ayun? What are you doing here?" a woman opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. She looked around nervously, then quickly pulled him inside.
The small, one-bedroom apartment was a mess.
Zhang Qinyun, seemingly accustomed to the disarray, began to tidy up, picking up clothes from the floor and putting them in the washing machine.
The woman, his mother, was still beautiful, her clothes stylish, her every movement graceful and alluring, despite her age. Her eyes were flirtatious, her figure curvy.
But there was a certain… recklessness about her that made people whisper, "She's not a respectable woman."
"I told you not to come here," she said, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the doorframe, watching him. "What if your classmates or teachers see you here?"
Zhang Qinyun had been raised by his mother. He didn't know who his father was.
His mother had worked in the… entertainment industry since she was young, her beauty bringing her considerable wealth, which she had lavished on her son, nurturing his musical talent.
He was gifted and hardworking, winning numerous awards, a source of pride for his mother.
But one year, at a parent-teacher meeting in elementary school, one of the other parents, a client of his mother's, had recognized her and called out her… profession, his tone mocking.
The whispers and stares had made his life at school unbearable.
They had changed their names and moved to Beijing, his mother sending him to boarding school, keeping him away from her… world.
He didn't reply, continuing to tidy up the apartment, his usual cheerful demeanor gone, replaced by a quiet sadness.
His mother watched him, smoking her cigarette.
"Do you need money?"
"No, I have enough."
"How are your classmates?"
"They're good. I have many friends now."
"That's good. You should go now. I have… things to do. Focus on your music. Don't come here again," she said dismissively.
"Mom," he said quietly, "I'm representing the school in the National Collegiate Cup. There's… a strong competitor this year."
"The finals are this weekend," he continued, his head down. "Will you… come and watch me play?"
The room was dim, the red glow of her cigarette flickering in the shadows.
Her face, lined and tired, looked older in the dim light, her voice impatient. "Why would I go? I don't understand that kind of music."
Zhang Qinyun was silent for a moment, then picked up his violin case and the bag of trash he had collected. He turned to leave.
"Wait," she called out. "Where is it? The competition?"
Cycling back to school along the banks of the moat, Zhang Qinyun's heart, which had been filled with anxiety and uncertainty, now felt… strangely calm.
He hadn't known why he had felt the need to see his mother.
Perhaps it was the unsettling feeling he had experienced since hearing that violin performance by the lake, the Tchaikovsky concerto played with such effortless grace, the music reaching into his soul, a gentle hand stirring something deep within him.
His friends on the boat hadn't understood, but he had recognized the power of that music, its unique and captivating quality.
And at the semi-finals, that feeling had intensified, a sense of being… overshadowed, her performance shaking his confidence in his own abilities.
The sky darkened, the city lights reflecting on the water.
Outside a teahouse by the moat, he saw her.
Banxia. What was she doing here?
Before he could decide whether to approach her, a figure emerged from the teahouse, someone even more unexpected.
Jiang Lin, the world-renowned violinist, a judge at the Collegiate Cup, was arguing with a contestant.
And Jiang Lin, instead of asserting his authority, his seniority, seemed… flustered, his face pale, his words faltering under the young woman's cold gaze.
Hidden in the shadows, Zhang Qinyun sensed a scandal brewing and instinctively took out his phone, recording the scene.
The results of the semi-finals were finally announced. Only ten contestants, out of the initial eighty-odd, had made it to the final round.
In the concert hall, the host invited the ten finalists onto the stage.
The spotlight illuminated their faces: a thirteen-year-old girl, a graduate student competing for his last chance at glory… each of them a top contender, their eyes fixed on the grand prize.
"I might be young, but music has nothing to do with age. I'll show these older contestants what we 'youngsters' can do!" thirteen-year-old Lin Ling declared cheerfully, facing the cameras.
"I'm twenty-five. This is my last chance to win the Collegiate Cup. After all these years of hard work, all the sacrifices I've made… I won't lose. I'm here for the gold medal," a determined graduate student said.
The finals would be held on the weekend, at the National Centre for the Performing Arts.
A large audience, media coverage, a live broadcast…
Unlike the preliminary and semi-final rounds, where they had been accompanied by a single pianist, the finalists would be accompanied by a small symphony orchestra.
The grand stage, the magnificent accompaniment, the soaring melodies of classic concertos…
But it also meant they had only a few days to rehearse with the orchestra.
Banxia, juggling rehearsals with the orchestra and refining her cadenza, was exhausted, her days a blur of music and frantic practice, her meals delivered to her hotel room, barely having time to talk to Xiao Lian, whose sleep schedule was, as always, the reverse of hers.
But she still remembered to order him food, knowing it wasn't as convenient for him to cook in the hotel.
She used her own money, of course. After all, in her mind, she was the provider, and he was her adorable, house-husband lizard.
The day before the finals, after the last rehearsal, Banxia returned to her hotel room and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. She reached out blindly and pulled Xiao Lian close. "I'm dying! Thank god tomorrow is the last day!"
Xiao Lian gently touched her lips with his cool snout.
"How do you think I'll do? Do you think I can win? They're all so good! And it's eight thousand yuan! I can't lose!"
"You'll win," he said, his voice firm and reassuring.
"Get some sleep tonight. You're coming with me tomorrow."
"Mm-hmm."
Something was wrong.
Banxia opened her eyes.
His tone was… different, less affectionate than usual. Was he upset about something?
"What's wrong?" she asked, stroking his head.
"Nothing."
"Tell me," she said, gently pinching his tail.
Xiao Lian, unable to resist her, finally confessed, his voice muffled. "We… haven't talked much these past few days. And you never use the money I gave you."
Banxia's heart sank. She had been so busy with the competition that she had neglected him, after… everything.
I've been a terrible girlfriend, she thought, feeling a pang of guilt.
"Okay, I'll use your money. I actually have some things I want to buy," she said, brightening, opening her shopping cart app. "I haven't spent anyone else's money since I was thirteen! This feels… strangely nice."
Xiao Lian, finally hearing the longed-for notification sound of a payment being made from his account, felt a warmth spread through him.
Even in this form, he could still provide for her, make her happy.
"What did you buy?" he asked, crawling closer.
"I saw you buying some the other day, and it reminded me that you… need these too. So I picked out a few," Banxia showed him the items in her cart, whispering in his ear, "All different styles and colors. When they arrive, you can… model them for me."
The sweet fragrance of him filled the air.
A hand, covered in black scales, reached out and switched off the light.
Banxia nuzzled against him, inhaling his scent, their bodies entwined, the sweet fragrance clinging to their skin.
"Wait… I bought you something too," he whispered, his voice husky.
"Oh? What is it? More underwear?" she murmured, her voice drowsy.
Later, after their… playful interlude, Banxia opened the wardrobe and found a silver dress hanging inside.
It was a beautiful concert gown.
A simple, elegant design, off-the-shoulder, fitted bodice, knee-length skirt, the shimmering fabric like moonlight, flowing and ethereal.
I love how unreserved they are with each other!
ReplyDeleteBWAHAHAHHAHA
ReplyDeleteTheir dynamic is so amazing!!