Chapter 142: Melancholy "Heartbeat"

On the third floor of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion, in the top-tier piano room, this was one of the few training studios with a piano that Lexiao Tian had chosen.

After all, the piano produces frequencies roughly between 16 and 4,816 hertz, an instrument limited to use by certain mortal races.

Because Lexiao Tian had broken the 100-meter sprint world record in five seconds, and personal fame was not the priority, he decided to reserve this additional performance opportunity for his musician.

With his divine sight opened, the water spirit Ziwei was handed over to Lexiao Tian.

At that moment, gazing at the top-brand “Deep Sea” piano in the room, Lexiao Tian sat on the bench in front, then handed Ziwei his white headphones and a concise edition of Earth's musical history book, instructing her to “read aloud while wearing the headphones.”

One effective method to treat nervous stuttering is to listen to music in the ears while speaking aloud.

Since donning the Star God ring, Ziwei’s mindset had undergone a complete transformation—Lexiao Tian was everything to her!

Now, obediently following his instructions, Ziwei put on the headphones.

Immediately, the music selected by Lexiao Tian began to play.

The volume was turned up so high that it was hard for her not to be captivated by the music.

She opened the concise history of Earth's music and read aloud: “To ascend, first descend! The first goal of the Star Soul 88 Star God is to master all musical systems of Blue Star. The method to determine pitch is called the tuning system. Widely used on Blue Star are the Circle of Fifths, Just Intonation, and the Twelve-Tone Equal Temperament. The tuning system defines the octave; the octave establishes intervals. Interval relationships include major and minor seconds, thirds, sixths, and sevenths; perfect unisons, fourths, fifths, and octaves; diminished fourths and augmented fifths.”

Though Ziwei had never known Earth’s musical theory before, having grown up in the Hongkun Heavenly Realm where song and dance had reached their peak, and as a six-star dancer, her ability to understand music and dance was extraordinary.

If placed on Earth, she could easily become the world’s number one song goddess. With Lexiao Tian’s practical guidance, she almost grasped the concepts immediately after reading.

After more than an hour, 50,000 dance credits were spent. At this moment, Lexiao Tian signaled Ziwei to begin formal song practice.

Removing her headphones and placing them with the book on the piano stand, Ziwei stood by the piano, waiting quietly for direction.

Lexiao Tian then asked, “Nine Realms—how many levels do you have in each?”

Ziwei raised her right hand, showing the gestures three, three, two, two, one, and one, representing the realm levels of each of her six stars.

The Nine Realms are a fusion classification across the twelve great clans, encompassing all dance and music arts—the higher the realm, the greater the power. The nine realms are, in order: Transcending Mortals, Entering Saints, Mad Demons, Devouring Space, Subduing Demons, Immortal Slayers, Transcending Gods, Full Sorcery, and Great Flood.

In other words, Ziwei’s six-star realms are Mad Demon, Mad Demon, Entering Saint, Entering Saint, Transcending Mortal, Transcending Mortal.

Having understood Ziwei’s situation, Lexiao Tian had a clear picture.

Though many dance gods could not all reach the Great Flood realm, for a young dancer like Ziwei, her status was relatively good. After all, no one else was all Great Flood realm like himself—and he wasn’t even an extraordinary being!

He did not give his musician teachings too far beyond her current grasp.

Therefore, Lexiao Tian said, “From now on, follow my instructions and start training from the very first realm. The first realm can be summed up in five words: ‘Focus to Transcend Mortality.’ I want every practice session to be with complete concentration—full focus, understand?”

Ziwei nodded obediently, signaling her understanding.

Opening the piano stand, Lexiao Tian took out the RBS book he had written last night, titled Heartbeat, along with the original singer’s name and single, handing it to her. “Take the sheet music and sing.”

After three minutes of sight singing, Lexiao Tian began to play the piano.

Without adding guitar or other instruments from the recorded version, it was purely piano throughout.

Fingers pressing keys, a beautiful melody finally filled the quiet room.

Like flowing water, gentle and serene, the orderly pauses of the notes unfolded.

After a clear, crisp progression, Lexiao Tian gave Ziwei a look to prepare for her entry.

Sensitively, Ziwei entered at the right moment, her red lips parting as she began to sing, “I can’t understand, I can’t think it through, I can’t make sense of it.”

Suddenly, the piano stopped. Lexiao Tian’s voice was low and serious: “Your voice shouldn’t sound so joyful. Full focus, full focus, understand? Again.”

With only this brief instruction, Ziwei could not fully grasp the correction. Though she thought she had sung well, she obediently refocused herself—after all, this was her only conductor.

With those words, Lexiao Tian resumed playing the familiar melody, matching the force, speed, and volume exactly as before.

As the soft piano notes spread, Ziwei entered again: “I love to watch the flying…”

The music ceased abruptly. Lexiao Tian said, “Still not invested enough, again.”

The piano resumed; the melody danced. Ziwei’s entry was better: “I love to watch the flying…”

The music halted again. Lexiao Tian said, “Full focus, full focus! Again.”

The piano started once more; the melody flowed. Ziwei’s entry improved: “I love to watch the flying…”

“Not enough, not enough, again.”

“Love.”

“Don’t look at me, again.”

“Love.”

“Don’t frown. Full focus, full focus, again.”

“Love.”

After seventy-two failed attempts, the best she managed was a single word. Ziwei’s cheeks flushed; how could she suddenly feel like she could no longer sing?

Seeing Ziwei nervously clutching her clothes, Lexiao Tian asked, “After singing so many times, tell me your understanding of this piece.”

Every musician or listener has a unique interpretation of the same composition, but with Lexiao Tian’s presence, all musicians followed his understanding—there was no right or wrong, only the conductor’s word.

Ziwei understood this, so she said, “I think this is a hymn of praise.”

To foster genuine growth, Lexiao Tian had initially given no guidance, relying solely on her first impression.

Now, seeing Ziwei’s interpretation was somewhat far off, Lexiao Tian narrowed the theme: “This piece is called Heartbeat. What kind of song is it? What emotions should it convey? Listen carefully to my melody. Full focus, understand?”

The beauty of songs with incomprehensible lyrics or pure instrumentals is the freedom to imagine, constructing one’s unique musical imagery.

But realizing her understanding was too far off, the conductor had to speak up. Ziwei playfully stuck out her tongue.

The piano resumed, the melody unfolding. Ziwei listened intently, feeling her heartbeat.

“Love.”

“Again.”

“Love.”

“Again.”

“Love.”

“Again.”

After thirty-six more failures, she improved to two phrases, and Ziwei felt a glimmer of excitement.

Lexiao Tian then helped her focus further: “This is a love song.”

The piano started once more; the melody flowed. For the first time, Ziwei’s expression matched the emotion as she sang, “I love to watch the flying…”

But this time, Lexiao Tian’s reminder came after her 138th mistake.

Thus, Lexiao Tian, accompanied by his beloved Star God, endured grueling training for her debut performance.

Unnoticed, ten hours passed; 300,000 dance credits vanished, replaced by a gentle female voice softly singing, “Love.”