Chapter 140: A Guarantee in the Name of Command!

At this moment, looking at Ziwei, who stood ten meters away, Le Xiaotian felt an overwhelming surge of excitement within.

Finally, Xiaoji spoke: "Beep. Detected star soul female mezzo-soprano principal Tianyan star godseed musician, Ziwei, third princess of the Water Spirit Clan, converted mortal age: 17."

After the Shining Star incident, he had once again realized the true focus of his life's purpose. Yet, throughout more than a year with the Fa Code, Xiaoji had given no hint—until now. At last, she had signaled! He had truly seen an elf! An elf!

Meanwhile, hundreds of other musicians were gradually departing, but their voices had been automatically muted by Le Xiaotian’s system. Their figures seemed faint, almost nonexistent. His gaze rested solely on Ziwei.

She possessed a cascade of golden hair flowing like a waterfall, with two perfectly gradated white-purple vine flowers adorning each side near her ears. Her delicate ears, partially concealed by her golden locks and the floral vines, hinted at an exquisite cochlea beneath.

On her smooth forehead hung a noble green forehead pendant necklace, bearing a dazzling diamond-shaped sapphire. This lent her an air both unattainable and irresistibly inviting.

Her slender eyebrows embodied the beauty of nature itself, combining the willow-leaf brows of a graceful beauty, the straight brows of determination, and the crescent moon shape of elegance.

Her large blue eyes enchanted all who looked upon them; her irises mirrored the deep sea’s azure, while the whites gleamed like pure ivory—like two pools of clear, tranquil blue oceans.

Within her gaze flickered the gentle warmth of a tender woman, tinged with vulnerability, fear, even nervousness, evoking an irresistible urge to protect her for all eternity.

Framed by long curved lashes, a refined delicate nose, rosy lips, and a fair complexion, her features were near perfection.

Though petite in stature, the emerald neck guard, metallic arm bracelets, pleated floral dress, and intricately carved long boots accentuated her swan-like neck, charming navel, and slender legs, rendering her figure elegantly elongated and flawless.

Noble yet not coldly aloof, she lacked the aura of a queen but possessed a softer, more delicate, and graceful princess-like charm.

Under his burning gaze, her heartbeat quickened, her eyes flickering with shyness. Slightly bowing her head, she gently fiddled with the hem of her dress with her jade-like hands, a rosy blush blooming across her cheeks.

One word: beautiful. He would gladly forgo five days without food just to keep watching her.

She was a presence that outshone countless goddesses.

At that moment, the entire dance studio fell into profound silence. The vast room held only Le Xiaotian and Ziwei, ten meters apart.

Finally, unable to contain his excitement, Le Xiaotian stepped forward toward her.

His excitement felt akin to reuniting with the three daughters of Su Yun. For she was about to become the musician who would embody his musical will—a bond distinct yet equally profound as friendship or love.

Approaching Ziwei, he immediately sensed her nervousness. From behind her, he noticed a pair of blue butterfly wings adorned her back, their patterns vivid yet understated.

Her flawless 36-24-36 figure, combined with her extraordinary dancer’s prowess, made her the true elf he yearned to personally nurture.

Returning before her, Le Xiaotian lowered his gaze slightly, then smiled: "Look me in the eyes and sing a note for me."

As a strong masculine aura swept over her, the nervous Ziwei could hear her own heartbeat.

Mustering courage, she met his nearby black eyes, and amid slight panic, parted her red lips to sing, "Ah."

"Inhale!" Le Xiaotian greedily drew in a breath. Ziwei’s fragrant aura was the very definition of “breath like orchid.”

Just as her nervousness peaked, almost to the point of wanting to flee, Le Xiaotian spoke: "Your vocal cords, pharynx, oral cavity, head cavity, and chest cavity are all good, but your breath control—the most crucial part—is lacking. Your voice lacks the piercing sharpness that cuts through everything, yet it possesses a warmth that comes straight from your heart. Very good. You have the potential to be my principal mezzo-soprano."

Hearing his affirmation, Ziwei’s tension instantly dissolved, but as memories of her tragic past surfaced, tears threatened to choke her. Finally, someone recognized her ability to sing!

Le Xiaotian then posed another question: "Do you like to sing?"

She wanted to answer immediately but hesitated, recalling her own circumstances.

Under his encouraging gaze, her eyes grew moist: "I-I stutter."

Seeing the gentle defiance mixed with warmth in her eyes, Le Xiaotian’s heart shattered.

Without hesitation, he pulled her into an embrace and gently pressed his finger to her forehead.

With a smile, his tone carried a commanding confidence that seemed to defy the universe: "Dance is the mother goddess of all, music is her eldest son inheriting her all-encompassing nature, and language is her youngest. Singing will not cause stuttering—what are you afraid of? Tell me, what caused your condition?"

Bang! Crack! Crash!

"What are you doing?!"

Before Le Xiaotian could finish, Ziwei had suddenly hurled him toward the studio’s wall. The large mirror shattered into countless cracks, scattering shards across the floor. Le Xiaotian spat blood as he slid down.

Ziwei’s face was fierce with anger—not murderous, but filled with intense rage.

Wiping blood from his mouth, Le Xiaotian laughed instead of getting angry. "Haha, well struck. Now I know how to treat your illness."

Ziwei was momentarily stunned by his words. She seemed to realize she had overreacted but still could not let go of the resentment from a man touching a body never before touched by any male.

Though injured and coughing blood, Le Xiaotian quickly returned to her side, his tone growing serious. "Tell me about yourself. I want to know your past."

Stepping back cautiously, Ziwei hesitated to open her heart fully. "L-listening to me talk requires patience."

"Haha, I have plenty of patience. Come, let’s sit and talk. You can speak as long as you want."

To test if Le Xiaotian could be the conductor she would entrust her life to, she pondered deeply before beginning her story.

She spoke from daylight until dusk.

Through her tale, Le Xiaotian learned part of Ziwei’s history.

Her name was Ziwei, with a birthday on April 4th in the musical calendar. She had lived longer than him, but in mortal years, she was just seventeen—over six years younger than Le Xiaotian.

She was the third princess of the Water Spirit Clan, originally destined to inherit the queen’s throne. But as a child, she was terrified by a fifth-level sound beast, the Red Flame Python, and from then on developed a nervous stutter.

Years of treatment yielded no results. Kind-hearted Ziwei voluntarily relinquished her claim to the throne, even though her subjects did not mind. She refused to burden a million people and came here to pursue her dream of singing.

Le Xiaotian let out a long breath, then stood and extended his left hand to the also rising Ziwei. "You’ve traveled so many days and shared so much with me—you must be tired. Come, I’ll take you to the Flying Sky Hotel for dinner and rest."

Grasping her dress nervously, Ziwei was surprised to realize she had poured out most of her heart to Le Xiaotian without noticing.

Seeing her expression, Le Xiaotian chuckled, "Heh, if you want, you can beat me until I’m deformed. What’s there to fear?"

Recalling his earlier behavior was somewhat excessive, Ziwei’s cheeks flushed softly, but a subtle smile appeared.

Glancing into Le Xiaotian’s eyes, then at his broad palm, she reached out her right hand—but quickly withdrew it. When she saw his expression unchanged, she placed her small hand on his.

Feeling the warmth and softness beneath her touch, and sensing Ziwei’s bashful timidity, Le Xiaotian’s long-suppressed commanding spirit of the Great Dance God surged anew.

His face turned grave as he pointed a finger toward the ceiling, eyes sharp as if piercing all things. "Phoenix Nest, this will be the first step of your legendary journey. I, as the sole conductor of the Star Soul Philharmonic, vow it!"

Hearing Le Xiaotian’s grand declaration, a tidal wave of emotion erupted within Ziwei.

Le Xiaotian was the legendary Purple Sun?! Impossible!