Vol 7. Chapter 68: Belongs to You

The two little dragon girls ran over.

Muse stood and glanced at Berang, who was standing off to the side. Even though she could hardly contain her excitement, she still very politely spoke to Francesca first—after all, it was the teacher who had called her over.

“Teacher Francesca, what did you call us for?”

“Haven’t you always admired Mr. Berang, Muse? I didn’t see you just now—otherwise I would’ve called you over sooner.”

As she spoke, Francesca squatted down, reached out to pat Muse’s small head, then raised her index finger to her lips.

“But don’t tell anyone, okay? This is your teacher opening a back door for you.”

Francesca was quite fond of this little one.

Among the dragon race, there weren’t many children who, at Muse’s age, could already show such a deep interest in and extraordinary talent for music.

On top of that, Muse attended every single one of her specialized music classes without fail, so Francesca had a very good impression of her.

Using her position to keep her “beloved student’s” idol here for a moment—well, that was a little hard-earned favor.

“Really? Thank you, teacher!”

With that, Muse tugged at Hefei’s sleeve.

“Quick, Hefei, pen and paper.”

“Oh, oh, coming!”

Hefei dug a fountain pen and notebook out of her pocket and handed them to Muse.

Muse accepted them and held them out to Berang with both hands, her face unable to hide her joy and smile.

“Mr. Berang, could I trouble you for your autograph?”

Berang took the paper and pen, signing his name in his practiced artistic script.

He paused, then actually asked on his own:

“Want me to add a dedication, little girl?”

“Uh, better make it a ‘To...’ signature.”

Muse thought for a moment, then scratched at her temple a bit awkwardly.

“Sorry, Mr. Berang, I haven’t thought about any words for a dedication... so honestly, I haven’t thought about what you should write.”

She valued things like this that held meaning, so she’d rather be direct and admit she hadn’t thought of anything than let her idol casually scribble something perfunctory.

Berang was momentarily caught off guard by her blunt honesty.

“This little one... interesting.”

“Guchu—”

Berang closed the notebook with one hand, but instead of returning it to Muse, he said:

“I’m heading to the Academy’s piano room next to warm up for tonight’s performance. If you and your friend are interested, you can come and watch.”

At those words, Muse’s head snapped up, her red pupils sparkling with an almost disbelieving thrill and surprise. Even Hefei and Teacher Francesca hadn’t expected Berang to invite Muse to watch him practice.

For a moment, the room went quiet. Until Berang spoke again:

“Don’t want to come?”

“Ah! No, no! Thank you, Mr. Berang! Come on, Hefei, let’s go!”

Being able to watch Mr. Berang play up close was a rare opportunity.

“Mhm, okay!”

Switching hands, Berang kept the autograph notebook in his grip as he turned to Francesca.

“You come along too—it’s your student, after all. You’ll need to keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, Mr. Berang.”

The group headed for the Academy’s piano room. Since Berang had already submitted his schedule for the day, the Academy had prepared a quiet room for him in advance, one that wouldn’t be disturbed by outside noise.

Entering the room, they saw the pure white piano in the center—the same one Berang had used on the lecture stage earlier. Without saying anything further, Berang walked straight to the piano, sat down, set the score on the stand, and began to play slowly once it was in place.

The three—Muse, Hefei, and Francesca—stood quietly to one side, listening. The flowing melody filled the room, and with only a few measures, Muse instantly recognized the piece.

The seventh movement from Backlight Symphony—The Moon Without a Trace.

“Muse, don’t disturb Mr. Berang,” Francesca whispered.

“Ah, sorry—”

“It’s fine.”

Berang’s voice came, and the three looked up. His hands were still moving across the black-and-white keys as he said:

“How old are you this year, Muse?”

“Four.”

Muse answered without hesitation, then paused to correct herself.

“I’ll be five this May.”

“Five, huh... The Moon Without a Trace is one of the later chapters in the whole symphony—you’ve heard it before?”

In Berang’s impression, vampire children were usually born with a love for music. The talented ones might even compete with dragon children of the magic clans in playing the celestial flute. But to hear just a few measures and immediately identify a relatively obscure movement—like Muse had just done—was rare.

“I have. I’ve listened to every single movement of your Backlight Symphony.” Muse said.

Francesca quietly watched her student converse with Berang, a smile tugging at her lips.

Berang said:

“All of them? All right, then see if you can guess this one.”

With that, he began to play another piece. Its style and rhythm were very different from before. Even Francesca couldn’t identify it right away. As for little red dragon girl Hefei—no chance. She was the type of dragon child most people pictured—at this age, her main interest was in fighting.

But Muse blurted out:

“It’s the variation of The Lone Wanderer on the Icefield, the third movement of Backlight Symphony. Five years after you first performed the original Lone Wanderer, you suffered the loss of a close companion. Once you’d recovered, you adapted The Lone Wanderer. In the adapted version, the melody carries deeper grief and solitude. You once said in a performance that it better reflected your state of mind after that loss. I read that in a magazine interview with you.”

After Muse said this, Hefei realized the piece did sound familiar. She had to admit—she’d never noticed before, but her best friend was half a fangirl.

Of course, Muse’s admiration wasn’t for superficial things. She had her own understanding of music.

Berang’s gaze held a trace of surprise at the child’s insight. Turning slightly toward Muse, he said evenly:

“I’ve only publicly performed this variation once. Compared to the other movements, it’s one of the most obscure—even longtime followers of mine might not be able to name it instantly.”

He glanced at Francesca. The music teacher gave an awkward smile, running a hand through her hair.

“That’s right, I couldn’t name it just now either. But Mr. Berang, wasn’t I right? Muse has a real gift for music.”

Berang rarely acknowledged anyone’s musical talent—after all, he was a musical prodigy spanning hundreds of years among the dragon clans, and in the past century, no one had earned his regard. But this five-year-old girl before him... she caught his eye.

Not bad at all. Berang looked at Muse again.

“You said you’ll be five next month, correct?”

“Yes, Mr. Berang.”

“Then you can pick a piece now, and I’ll play it for you myself—or we could perform a duet. Consider it an early birthday present from me.”

Surprise after surprise today. Muse pressed down her excitement. Her father had said—the more emotions run high, the calmer you must be; intense emotion clouds thought and leads to mistakes.

After a short silence, Muse said:

“I’d still prefer for you to play alone.”

“Oh? Why?” Berang asked with a smile.

“Yeah, Muse, why not play with Mr. Berang? Do you know how many fans dream of that?” Hefei asked, baffled.

Muse simply shook her head.

“Mr. Berang and I have never played together before—jumping in suddenly might disrupt the rhythm of the whole piece. And compared to performing with him, I’d rather listen to him play.”

“Focusing on the music itself, rather than anything external, hmm...”

Berang gazed at her. She was only five, yet could think so calmly.

“I want to hear The [N O V E L I G H T] Eternal Blue Flame, Mr. Berang.”

Muse’s voice pulled Berang from his thoughts.

He refocused.

“Oh, that one? As expected.”

Muse knew what he meant by “as expected.”

“Because everyone calls it the movement closest to perfection,” she said.

Berang only gave a faint smile before beginning to play. As the melody flowed, he spoke while his fingers pressed the keys:

“This piece is called the movement closest to perfection—but everyone’s definition of ‘perfection’ is different. Muse, you must have your own view. I can play this piece for you, but I hope that during it, you think carefully—do you truly believe your ‘perfect movement’ is this one?”

Berang appreciated Muse’s personality and talent; he didn’t want the next musical prodigy to be wasted. And the first step to achieving greatness was...

“Never go with the flow.”

Muse pressed her lips together slightly, then lowered her gaze and softly repeated his words:

“The movement... I think is perfect...”

Hefei looked at her friend. She was seriously thinking, completely focused.

Muse didn’t speak a single word until Berang finished playing. The last note faded into the piano room’s stillness, and Berang turned toward her.

“Well, Muse, have you decided?”

Muse clutched her skirt and shook her head.

“No... sorry, Mr. Berang.”

“No need to apologize.”

Berang stood, took the signed notebook and pen from the piano, and wrote something beneath his autograph. Then, walking over, he crouched slightly and handed the notebook to her himself.

“I’ve thought of a dedication. I hope it will help both the you now, and the you in the future.”

After giving her the notebook, Berang left the piano room. Teacher Francesca said a few words to Muse before quickly following him out.

When they were gone, Muse opened the notebook and read Berang’s dedication:

“Muse K. Melkvey, you must find your own...”

Perfect Movement.