Mr. Lizard Outside the Window - Chapter 57
Chapter 57: I'll Tell You When It's Finished…
Lately, the first thing Banxia did every morning, even before opening her eyes, was to ask herself: What day is it?
Is it the third day? The fourth?
Time, like water held in her hand, slipped through her fingers, no matter how tightly she grasped it.
And the more she wished for it to slow down, the faster it seemed to flow, a relentless current carrying them towards the unknown.
She and Xiao Lian had been inseparable these past few days.
During the day, he would accompany her to school, curled up in her pocket, sleeping while she attended classes. At night, she would stay in Ling Dong's apartment, watching him compose, their bodies often entwined before the last rays of sunlight had even faded from the sky, his arms around her waist, his face buried in her neck, inhaling her scent.
"Eat something first," she would say, pushing him away gently. "You're too thin. You need to eat more," and she would feed him a warm cheese ball from the takeout container, her fingers brushing his lips.
He would take the food from her hand, his long fingers brushing hers, then lick her fingertips, his dark gold eyes, framed by long lashes, looking up at her.
His gaze, clear and pure as a mountain spring, made her heart pound, a shiver running down her spine, her resolve melting away.
They rarely finished their meal before their bodies were entwined, the sweet fragrance of him filling the room, their passion a consuming fire.
And in the pre-dawn darkness, the world still dreaming, Banxia would wake him, and they would take a bus to the coast, to watch the sunrise over the ocean.
The morning mist hung heavy over the water, the fishing boats like phantoms on a frosted mirror, their wakes faint ripples in the stillness, the world quiet and dreamlike, a scene from a painting, a poem whispered in the silence.
Banxia would sit on the seawall, Xiao Lian wrapped in her scarf, and watch the sunrise together.
The gentle waves lapping against the shore, the soft susurrus of the water, a soothing balm for her soul.
"This is the quietest part of the coast. I come here when I'm feeling down, or when I need… peace," Banxia said, holding him close. "I've always wanted to bring you here."
"It's so peaceful," Xiao Lian said, his unique voice soft against her ear. "I grew up by the sea, but I've never… just sat and watched it like this. Are you sure this is okay? With your finals coming up?"
Banxia chuckled, stretching her legs, her fingers absently stroking his back, her gaze fixed on the hazy sky. "What could possibly go wrong? Life is full of 'shoulds,' isn't it? We should study hard, we should work hard, we should find a partner, get married… but I suddenly realized… none of it really matters. As long as you're… at peace with yourself."
All I want to do now is be with you, she thought.
She lifted her violin and began to play, not a specific piece, but a melody of her own, a joyful, carefree tune, the music echoing the gentle rhythm of the waves.
The angelic melody filled the air.
The sun broke through the mist, long golden rays reaching down from the sky, like a divine light banishing the shadows, the world awakening from its slumber, the fishing boats coming to life, seabirds skimming the surface of the water, the dreamlike mist dissolving, revealing the vibrant colors of the real world.
Xiao Lian sat on her lap, watching the vast ocean, the sunlight sparkling in his dark gold eyes.
The consequences of their recent… indulgences were evident in Banxia's performance at her private lesson with Professor Yu.
The end-of-semester exam for the orchestral department was a solo recital. The requirements varied each semester. For the second year, first semester, they had to perform a fifty-minute program, including a complete sonata.
Having focused on the Collegiate Cup, Banxia hadn't practiced her sonata, her preparation for the recital inadequate.
Yu Anguo had chosen Mozart's Sonata for Piano and Violin in E minor (K. 304) for her. "I've already spoken to the other professors. Given your busy schedule with the competition, they'll be lenient with your recital grade. Just give a decent performance. But don't think you can just… phone it in," he said, his baton rapping sharply against the music stand. "If you mess this up, I won't be so forgiving."
Xiao Lian, startled by the sound, poked his head out of Banxia's pocket.
Yu Anguo's eyes widened. "What's that? What do you have in your pocket?!"
Banxia pulled Xiao Lian out and held him up. "Look! Isn't he cute?"
"This is outrageous! Who allowed you to bring a pet to school?!" the professor exclaimed, his baton almost hitting her.
Banxia quickly put Xiao Lian down and began to play the Mozart, her performance hesitant and uncertain.
Mozart's music, though not as technically demanding as some other composers, was challenging to interpret, its emotional nuances subtle and complex. Banxia hadn't quite mastered it yet.
She started again, leaving Xiao Lian and Yu Anguo alone.
"Kids these days… what are they thinking? A lizard? Of all things…" Yu Anguo grumbled, sitting down and looking at the little gecko perched on the chair beside him.
The gecko's scales gleamed like black jewels, its large, dark gold eyes blinking at him, its body perfectly still, its tail occasionally twitching as if in response to the music.
"I've seen lizards before, but never a black one," the professor peered at him. "Such a strange little creature."
The little gecko turned its head and blinked at him, as if in greeting.
He's actually… quite cute, the old professor thought, a strange warmth spreading through him.
"Are you hungry? Want some fruit?" He took a container of strawberries from his bag, carefully washed and hulled. "Here, have a strawberry."
Xiao Lian reached out with his tiny claws, took the strawberry, nodded politely at Banxia's teacher, and began to lick it slowly.
When Banxia finished playing, she was surprised to find the professor, instead of scolding her, sitting quietly with Xiao Lian, sharing the strawberries.
On their way home, Banxia had a bag of strawberries hanging from her handlebars. She and Xiao Lian hummed the melody of "Monster in the Rain" as they cycled through the village. "Should we take some strawberries to Aunt Du?" Xiao Lian asked, his voice unusually cheerful.
"Good idea! I haven't seen her taking out the trash lately," Banxia said. "Last time I saw her, she gave me some cookies and asked me to give some to 'Xiao Dong next door'."
As they turned the corner, they saw their street in the distance.
Banxia's smile faded as they approached Aunt Du's house.
The old, weathered door was open, a small square of red cloth pasted on the lintel. A table stood outside, laden with offerings, people in black clothes milling around the courtyard, their voices hushed.
The sound of chanting and the mournful clang of cymbals echoed from the courtyard, the camellia blossoms now draped in white mourning ribbons, the ancestral hall covered in white cloth, a black-and-white photograph displayed prominently.
The elderly woman who had always sat alone on her doorstep, basking in the sun, was now a face in a photograph.
"She passed away in her sleep. They found her the next morning."
"Over ninety years old. A long life. A blessing."
"Yes, a peaceful passing. A good death."
"Her children are abroad. They can't make it back in time. Distant relatives are handling the funeral arrangements."
"A lonely end…"
The neighbors murmured among themselves.
Banxia stopped her bicycle, her gaze fixed on the photograph in the hall. The elderly woman's smiling face was the same as always.
Every morning, cycling through the village, Banxia would see her sitting on her doorstep, a solitary figure in the early morning light.
A few words of greeting, a small kindness, like taking out her trash, and she would smile, her wrinkled hand holding Banxia's, her voice a gentle stream of chatter.
They said the ones left behind were the ones who suffered.
But perhaps the ones leaving, watching their own life ebb away, their fear and uncertainty unspoken, their hearts filled with a longing for the world they were leaving behind, their hands powerless to stop time's relentless flow, suffered even more.
Banxia's first encounter with death had been when she was six years old. Her violin teacher, Grandpa Mu, had fallen ill and never returned from the hospital.
His courtyard, like this one, had been filled with flowers.
He had been her first music teacher, the one who had recognized her talent, who had convinced her mother to let her learn the violin.
If it hadn't been for him, her mother might never have agreed.
As a child, she had been restless and easily bored, but she could sit for hours in his courtyard, listening to his beautiful music, the melodies weaving through the flowers and trees.
He had taught her how to hold the violin, how to draw the bow across the strings, how to move her arms, her fingers, how to create beautiful music.
And then, one day, a red cloth had appeared on his door, the courtyard filled with strangers, their faces grim, their voices filled with grief.
He had never returned, and her mother had forbidden her from going to his house again.
"You can't go there anymore, Xiaxia. Grandpa Mu is gone."
"Gone? What does that mean?"
"It means… you won't see him again."
You won't see him again. The words were for the living.
As for the dead, their destination unknown, their journey beyond the veil a mystery.
Remembered or forgotten, loved or hated, their earthly ties severed, their story ended.
The grief of the living, the pain of loss, the unanswered questions, the unsaid words… it couldn't bring them back.
When Banxia was thirteen, her mother had also… gone.
In the sterile white room of the hospital, the smell of antiseptic heavy in the air, she had learned the true meaning of loss, of the impermanence of human connections, of how even the strongest bonds, the most precious relationships, could dissolve like a dream, leaving only the echoes of memory.
All she could do was cherish the present, the precious, fleeting moments of her own life.
Seven days. She watched the clock ticking, each second a precious, irreplaceable moment.
But she didn't think about what would happen after those seven days, how she would cope, how she would grieve. She couldn't bear to think about it, not yet.
She just wanted to be with him, hold his hand, even if they were standing on the edge of a precipice.
They would face the abyss together, their arms around each other, their eyes closed, savoring the sweetness of that final kiss, the darkness beyond the falling scythe a burden she would bear alone.
Banxia, holding Xiao Lian close, walked through the flower-filled courtyard, placed a stick of incense before the photograph, and bowed her head in silent respect, the mournful music of the funeral a backdrop to her own private grief, her footsteps slow and measured as she walked away, back to her own world, her own life.
Outside the old house, a young man from the funeral home sat at the registration table, his job to record the names of those who came to pay their respects.
The deceased was elderly, her family scattered, her children abroad, their grief, perhaps, lessened by distance. Few people had come to mourn her passing. It was an easy job, and he couldn't help but yawn.
Just then, a pale hand, its skin almost translucent, reached out and wrote a name in elegant calligraphy on the registration book.
The young man looked up and saw a beautiful young man, his face as pale as snow, his presence radiating a chilling elegance, walking through the flower-filled courtyard.
"Did the old lady know someone like that?" one of the relatives murmured, surprised.
"Such a handsome young man. Whose son is he?"
"I don't recognize him. I've never even been to this house before. Should we ask?"
"I heard she has no other family here. Her children are all abroad. This house… it'll be empty now."
"They're already planning to sell it. Real estate agents were here this afternoon."
"So soon?"
"What's the point of keeping an empty house? Even though it's in the suburbs, it's still worth a lot of money."
"I heard they're going to tear out the garden and replace it with something more… modern, European-style, to increase the value."
"Lucky them. They'll inherit a small fortune."
Ling Dong, standing before the altar, his face impassive, lit a stick of incense and placed it in the burner, then took a sheet of joss paper and burned it, the flames flickering as the paper turned to ash.
"Tear out the garden…"
"A good death, a blessing… ninety years old…"
He watched the ashes swirling in the smoke, the elderly woman's words echoing in his mind.
【I wanted to plant these flowers in the ground, so they'll have sunlight and good soil. They'll survive even if I'm… gone.】
【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…】
【What good would being afraid do? When your time is short, you should cherish every moment.】
You left before me, he thought. Thank you for your kindness. Rest in peace.
Back at the apartment, Ling Dong and Banxia ate dinner together.
They sat at the low table in Ling Dong's room, sharing a takeout meal of sticky rice sausage and fish ball soup.
"Has your time… increased?" Banxia asked, looking up at him.
Lost in her grief for Aunt Du, she hadn't been paying attention to the time. But it seemed like he had been able to stay in his human form a little longer lately.
"It increased last month. I thought… maybe I was getting better," Ling Dong looked at her, his long hair falling over his eyes, his voice soft. "But after shedding my skin… it got worse. So… let's not get our hopes up."
"After you finish eating, can you record the violin part for my new song?" he asked.
"A new song? Of course!"
Banxia finished her meal and looked at the sheet music he had given her.
The melody was warm and comforting, a gentle lullaby.
"It's beautiful. What's it called?" she asked.
The handsome young man sat by the window, his white shirt soft against his skin, a wool coat draped over his shoulders, his dark eyes, like a starry night, watching her intently.
"I'll tell you when it's finished."
The kind old lady <3
ReplyDeleteSad that her children couldn't come, but happy she's reunited with her husband!