Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 50
Chapter 50: Return
Zhang Qinyun was stunned.
The man who had just appeared was no stranger. He was Ling Dong, the legendary piano prodigy from Rongcheng Conservatory, the winner of the Rachmaninoff International Piano Competition.
Zhang Qinyun had seen him countless times on television, in news articles, at music events, the young genius always surrounded by a halo of fame and accolades.
Ling Dong was known for his aloofness, his cool demeanor. But up close, he seemed… intense, almost menacing.
His dark eyes reminded Zhang Qinyun of the black gecko that had glared at him from Banxia's shoulder, its pupils narrowed into slits.
Ling Dong, his grip firm, almost aggressive, grabbed Zhang Qinyun's outstretched hand and looked at him intently.
Then, he bent down and lifted Banxia onto his back.
Why is Ling Dong here? Zhang Qinyun, still stunned, was about to ask when he heard Banxia murmur weakly against Ling Dong's back, "Where were you?"
His outstretched hand froze.
They were both from Rongyin. They clearly knew each other well, much better than he did.
Zhang Qinyun stepped back, watching as Ling Dong carefully adjusted Banxia's position on his back, ensuring she was comfortable, then walked away, the setting sun casting long shadows behind them.
His gentle touch, his obvious concern, was unmistakable.
The flicker of attraction that had been growing in Zhang Qinyun's heart was extinguished, like a delicate flame snuffed out by a winter wind.
Banxia felt herself being lifted. Her head swam, her eyelids heavy, her vision blurred by sweat. She could only make out a hazy, swaying world and a flash of pale skin.
He seemed to be wearing the same clothes she had seen in his hotel room, the familiar scent faint but distinct.
She relaxed, her hand clutching his shirt, her voice weak. "Where were you?"
"Just a little further. I'll take you to the hospital," Xiao Lian's voice was different, not his usual low, seductive murmur, but cold and distant, like a snowflake.
Banxia, exhausted, closed her eyes, her gaze fixed on the sharp line of his jaw, a comforting warmth spreading through her chest.
His shoulders were broad, but thin, the bones digging into her skin, yet the feeling was strangely reassuring. She felt safe in his arms, her defenses lowered, her vulnerability exposed.
He's seen me at my worst, she thought hazily. Crying, sick, weak… I've ruined my image completely.
One day, I'll make him pay, she thought, a flicker of mischief. I'll make him show me his vulnerable side, make him blush.
A wave of pain ripped through her, pulling her back into the abyss, a silent groan escaping her lips.
It was still daylight. How did he… transform? she wondered, her mind fading into darkness.
...
Ling Dong carried her across the overpass, the setting sun casting an orange glow on his pale skin.
His skin, bathed in the fading sunlight, gleamed with a strange, almost iridescent sheen, like a melting gemstone.
Thankfully, the sun quickly dipped below the horizon, the burning sensation fading, his skin becoming solid, real, in the gathering darkness.
He paused, his hair damp with sweat, took a deep breath, and quickened his pace.
In the hospital emergency room, a nurse woke Banxia.
"Wake up," she said, checking her name. "What's your name?"
Banxia opened her eyes, realizing she had fallen asleep in the chair.
"Banxia."
"Where's your boyfriend? He was just here, filling out the paperwork. He's quite handsome, by the way," the nurse said, hooking up the IV drip.
A small black gecko scurried across the floor, through the crowded room, up Banxia's leg, and onto her lap, its mouth open, panting.
Banxia touched him, his tiny body damp with sweat, as if he had just run a marathon.
In the men's restroom, a cleaning lady opened a stall and found a neatly folded set of clothes on the floor.
Kids these days, she thought, shaking her head. Taking off all their clothes just to use the restroom? She picked up the clothes, a strange thought occurring to her. Did he leave… naked?
The final round of the competition spanned two days. On the afternoon of the second day, after the last of the ten finalists had performed, the judges deliberated, their discussions sometimes heated, and finally reached a decision.
The winners were announced, followed by an awards banquet.
The Collegiate Cup, which had lasted for over ten days, had been a transformative experience for Banxia.
By the time the results were announced, the ranking itself seemed less important.
But as the host began to read the names of the winners, she couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous anticipation.
"And the first prize, the gold medal, goes to…"
The host paused, the entire hall holding its breath.
"Banxia, a second-year student from Rongcheng Conservatory of Music!"
Banxia clenched her fist and stood up, her heart swelling with joy and a profound sense of validation.
Zhang Qinyun won second place, and thirteen-year-old Lin Ling took third.
The three of them stood on stage together.
Zhang Qinyun extended his hand. "Congratulations. You deserved to win," he said sincerely.
Lin Ling hugged Banxia. "Your music is amazing, Jiejie! I love your playing!"
Though they had been rivals, their shared passion for music had forged a connection between them, a mutual respect that transcended the competition.
Fu Zhengqi presented Banxia with the gold medal, a heavy, gleaming trophy, and a thick stack of cash.
Banxia accepted them, her face beaming.
"You're a very talented young woman. Keep pursuing your dreams. We old folks are looking forward to seeing what your generation will achieve," the elderly musician said, his eyes twinkling. "I remember seeing you in Rongcheng, busking at the subway station. You were playing 'Flight of the Bumblebee'. A very… spirited performance."
Banxia blushed, unable to recall the encounter, and scratched her head sheepishly.
"Who's your teacher at Rongyin?" Mr. Fu asked.
"Professor Yu Anguo."
"Oh, Xiao Yu! He's a good teacher. He's clearly nurtured your talent well."
Even Professor Yu was once a "Xiao Yu", Banxia thought, amused, stifling a giggle.
At the banquet, the three winners sat together.
Zhang Qinyun, still slightly competitive, said, "I might have lost to you this time, but next time, the gold medal will be mine!"
Banxia found his childish bravado endearing.
Lin Ling chimed in, "Maybe next time we meet, we'll be playing together on stage! That would be even more fun!"
A musician's competitive years were limited. In the long journey of a musical career, collaboration and camaraderie were just as important as individual achievement.
Zhang Qinyun, realizing the truth in her words, finally understood the dynamic between Banxia and Shang Xiaoyue.
As a rival, Banxia was formidable, even intimidating.
But the thought of playing alongside her, their music blending together, was… exciting.
If they continued on this path, such opportunities would surely come, their shared passion for music forging new friendships, new connections.
"Thank you again for… everything," Banxia said to Zhang Qinyun. "And please thank your mother for her concern."
Still recovering from her illness, she couldn't drink alcohol, raising her glass of juice in a toast.
Even so, Xiao Lian, perched on her shoulder, glared at the glass, as if making sure she only took a small sip.
Zhang Qinyun hesitated, wanting to ask about her relationship with Ling Dong, but decided it wasn't the right time or place.
Lin Ling leaned closer, her voice low. "Jiejie, did you know the judges had a huge argument about you?"
The three of them huddled together, their heads close.
"They all gave you high scores, except for… Jiang… something. He gave you a ridiculously low score, and Old Mr. Fu was furious!" the little girl whispered, her eyes shining with excitement. "He almost jumped out of his seat! They had to hold him back!"
"Mr. Fu has mellowed with age. People forget he used to have quite a temper," Lin Ling, well-versed in the gossip of the classical music world, continued. "My mom was his student, and she's still terrified of him!"
They glanced at the judges' table.
Jiang Lin, looking distracted, happened to glance up and met their gazes.
He quickly looked away, his face flushing.
"See? He's guilty! There's definitely something going on between them!" Lin Ling, accustomed to privilege, wasn't afraid to gossip about even the most respected figures.
Zhang Qinyun, having witnessed his share of scandals in the music world, had his own suspicions about their relationship.
He looked at the elegant, successful violinist, then at Banxia. "I used to admire Jiang Lin. I was so excited when I heard he was going to be a judge for this competition," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of disappointment and disillusionment. "He came from a humble background, achieved international fame through his own hard work. He was my idol, my role model. And now… seeing him like this…it's so disappointing."
"Don't be like him, Senior. He didn't achieve his success through… honorable means. And his playing has declined in recent years. Maybe that's why he's so… threatened by Banxia Jie's talent," Lin Ling said, then added, with a touch of smugness, "And by mine, of course. But I'll surpass him soon enough."
Banxia looked at Jiang Lin, who was avoiding her gaze, then looked away, her expression calm. She ruffled Lin Ling's hair.
"We shouldn't waste our time on people like that. We have our own paths to follow. We'll leave them behind, eventually."
At the judges' table, Fu Zhengqi, his face flushed from the wine, beamed. "Look at these youngsters, so pure, so untainted by rivalry, their friendship so strong. It warms my heart," he nudged Jiang Lin. "They keep looking over here. They're probably wondering about your… unique scoring methods, Maestro Jiang. Perhaps you have some hidden agenda, some secret paternal affection, that compelled you to give such a talented young woman such a low score."
Jiang Lin's face darkened.
For some reason, Banxia's flawless performance had filled him with a sense of dread.
This girl, his own daughter, possessed a talent that might even surpass his own.
He had suddenly become afraid, afraid of her eclipsing him, of her looking down at him with the same cold, indifferent gaze as her mother, especially now, with his own career faltering.
He had given her a ridiculously low score, a spiteful, petty act, his conscience screaming in protest. And Fu Zhengqi, that old maverick, had called him out on it, creating an awkward scene.
"You're joking, Mr. Fu," Jiang Lin said coldly, his face stiff. "As a judge, I have my own standards. They're contestants. They can't see the scores. They have no right to question my judgment."
Fu Zhengqi, the shameless old fox, shrugged. "My apologies. Lin Ling happens to be my grandstudent. She came to greet me after her performance, and I might have… let slip your scores. For both of you."
Jiang Lin's face turned an even deeper shade of red.
He glanced at Banxia's table. The two girls were looking at him, their expressions cold and distant. Even Zhang Qinyun, who had just received the second-place award from him, looked at him with disgust.
Three young faces, six pairs of eyes, looking at him like he was… trash, then turning away, dismissing him, their gazes moving on, as if he wasn't even worth their attention.
Banxia, returning to Rongcheng with the gold medal, was greeted with enthusiastic congratulations from her teachers and classmates.
In the dormitory, Pan Xuemei and Qiao Xin admired the gleaming trophy. "Wow, the Collegiate Cup! You're a hero!"
Shang Xiaoyue, her voice slightly tinged with envy, said, "You must have met a lot of interesting people. You did me proud."
"It's a trophy you already won in middle school, Xiaoyue. I had to uphold your honor. Those other contestants, they thought they had an easy win without you there."
Shang Xiaoyue's face darkened. "Did they say anything about me?"
Banxia made a throat-slitting gesture. "They did. But I told them to watch their backs. You might be back in two years to crush them all personally."
Shang Xiaoyue laughed.
Pan Xuemei chimed in, "You went all the way to Beijing and didn't bring back any souvenirs? Not even a roast duck? After all our worrying?"
"Roast duck is expensive… I mean, it wouldn't taste good after the journey," Banxia said, making a face.
"Fine, you're buying crayfish next time. No excuses."
"Yes! The champion buys crayfish! And you have to bring your boyfriend! Introductions are in order!"
Banxia groaned inwardly.
At Professor Yu's house, his wife clucked sympathetically. "You poor child, working so hard for the competition, and you still thought about bringing us roast duck?"
"It's just a small token of my appreciation. I won the prize money, after all," Banxia said, rubbing her head sheepishly.
She liked visiting Professor Yu and his wife. They treated her like family, calling her "child," a term of endearment she hadn't heard since her mother's death. Though she no longer considered herself a child, she still craved that warmth, that sense of belonging.
"Winning the competition is a great achievement, but don't let it go to your head. Xiaoyue, your classmate, won this competition in middle school," Yu Anguo said sternly, then added, his voice softening, "I spoke to the judges. They were very impressed with your performance."
Banxia beamed. "Your reputation precedes you, Shifu! Even Mr. Fu Zhengqi mentioned you! He said…" she paused, then embellished slightly, "He said that only a great teacher like you could produce such a talented student like me!"
As she was about to leave, Mrs. Yu stopped her. "I heard you fell ill during the competition, had to go to the hospital for an IV drip. You poor child, you look so pale! Come and have dinner with us a few times this week. I'll make you some soup."
"Thank you, Shimu," Banxia, touched by her kindness, couldn't bring herself to lie. She blushed slightly. "But… you don't have to trouble yourself. I… I have someone who makes me soup at home."
Mrs. Yu, a wise and perceptive woman, smiled knowingly and let her go.
Banxia cycled home happily. Though the hotel had been comfortable, she missed her little rented room.
Xiao Lian must be waiting for me, a pot of delicious soup simmering on the stove, she thought.
In the small apartment building by the longan grove, Ling Dong, his sleeves rolled up, stood by the stove, stirring a pot of soup, tasting the broth.
Just right, he thought.
His dark eyes, reflecting the warm glow of the stove, softened with tenderness.
It was hericium mushroom and duck soup, Banxia's favorite. He had taken extra care to remove the bitterness of the mushrooms, wanting her to enjoy a warm, nourishing meal after her long journey.
He glanced at the timer on the stove.
The numbers ticked down, past the fifty-minute mark, then continued, each second a small victory.
It's getting better, he thought. My time is increasing, my control improving.
Even that day at the hospital, when he had transformed prematurely, the sunlight hadn't harmed him, not really.
Soon, he thought. Soon, I'll tell her everything, show her my true form.
He had even considered just… letting her see him, no explanations, no apologies, just… acceptance.
The thought made his heart race, his skin flush.
As Ling Dong, raised by his adoptive parents to be reserved and composed, he was accustomed to maintaining a certain image, especially in public.
In the darkness, it was one thing. But to be seen like that, in the light, as Ling Dong, the respected senior from the music academy, naked and vulnerable in her arms, doing the things she asked of him… it was mortifying.
His heart pounded, his cheeks burning.
This is… unusual, he thought, touching his face. It felt unusually hot, and… itchy.
His fingers brushed against something thin and papery, a large piece of translucent white skin peeling away from his cheek.
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