The golden age began in 1977

Chapter 144 Old Musical Instruments, Xun from the Han Dynasty

Liu Jinshan lives on Wutaishan Road, which made Qian Jin give him a thumbs up: "He lives in the headquarters of our city's supply and marketing cooperative's leading cadres."

“Captain Qian, please don’t make fun of me,” Liu Jinshan said, stepping through the lingering snow on the shady side of the building as he turned into a small alley. “My home is on Wutaishan Branch Road. I don’t live in the cadre building of our supply and marketing cooperative; I live in the staff compound.”

As you walk through the residential buildings, the sweet aroma of Laba porridge wafts out from the cracks in the windows of each house.

Some families don't have time to cook porridge in the morning, so they drink Laba porridge in the evening.

When passing by a supply and marketing cooperative, Liu Jinshan went in and bought a bottle of old wine.

Qian Jin said, "Since we've come all this way, is one bottle of wine enough? Good things come in pairs."

"Come on, comrade, get me another bottle of old wine. And what about those pastries, right? Give me two of each, one pound each. One pound is too little, give me two pound each."

The sales clerk ignored him and looked at Liu Jinshan.

Liu Jinshan's mouth was contorted in pain, and he yelled at the sales clerk, "Didn't you hear me? This is my boss. He told you to get the item, so get it now!"

The sales clerk was taken aback.

Such a young leader?
He quickly filled the bottles with wine and wrapped up some pastries, then said with a smile, "I gave you two jin and two liang, the scale is very high."

Qian Jin took out the ticket and paid the bill himself.

Liu Jinshan hurriedly stopped him: "Aren't you slapping me in the face?"

Qian Jin said, "Even close brothers keep clear accounts. There's no need to be polite. I will never have any disputes with you about money."

Liu Jinshan chuckled and repeatedly praised Qian Dadui for his integrity.

In his excitement, he started humming a tune, the clinking of bottles serving as background music. Mixed with the distant broadcast of the neighborhood committee announcing the "Communique of the National Science Conference," it became a fitting melody in this old community.

“Right here.” Liu Jinshan stamped his frozen feet and pointed to the half-finished wooden door embedded below the horizon.

The slogan "Socialism is good" hangs diagonally above the door, with half of the mottled gold characters "Tianqin Le" showing underneath.

Traditional Chinese characters.

This is a semi-basement in a tenement building in Haibin City. The south-facing window sill is level with the street. If it rains too heavily, you have to lock the windows, otherwise the house will be flooded.

Qian Jin said, "Musical instruments are susceptible to moisture. Is it okay to leave them here?"

Liu Jinshan chuckled and said, "Those villas and attics along Kunlun Mountain Road aren't damp, so how could he possibly get there?"

He didn't knock, but went up, pushed the door open, and lifted the cotton curtain.

In an instant, the scent of pine mixed with a musty smell wafted over.

Go inside and take a look.

The room, which was only about 20 square meters, was filled with pine shavings used for dehumidification, and there were probably hundreds of musical instruments piled from the cement floor to the ceiling.

A broken-stringed pipa lay across the carved armchair, a suona bowl was upside down serving as an ashtray, and most conspicuously, an upright piano stood in the corner, its lid piled with enamel basins and aluminum lunch boxes.

"It's Captain Liu, a distinguished guest indeed." A hoarse voice came from the shadows.

An old man with a hunched back peeked out from behind a guqin covered with a blue cloth. He had a row of brass reeds clipped to the pocket of his Zhongshan suit, and his hair was so white it looked like it was covered with a layer of rosin powder.

Liu Jinshan introduced him: "Old Qin, this is the captain of our moving team, he's my boss."

Old Qin was taken aback by Qian Jin's position.

So young?

He became visibly embarrassed and wanted to say something nice to lighten the mood, but he didn't know what to say.

Qian Jin didn't pay attention, but Tian Tian's gaze was drawn to a traditional musical instrument:
This instrument is quite tall, with flying apsaras carved on the head, and the lacquer surface is cracked into tortoise shell patterns, yet the twenty-three silk strings are taut and straight.

He couldn't help but ask, "Is this a harp? But how come it's flying? Isn't a harp a foreign thing?"

Old Qin was about to laugh at him, but Liu Jinshan glared at him, so he quickly straightened his posture and said:
"Leader, this is a Chinese harp, and this is a konghou."

Qian Jin was greatly impressed: "The jade of Kunshan shatters, the phoenix cries; the hibiscus weeps dew, the orchid smiles!"

Old Qin became excited and shouted at him, "The cold light melts before the twelve gates, and the twenty-three threads move the Purple Emperor."

“Boss, you’re an expert. This is the konghou from Li Ping’s Konghou Song. You can count it; it has exactly 24 strings.”

As he was speaking, he suddenly reached out and covered his chest, staggering as he went.

Liu Jinshan helped him up and pulled a small bottle out of his pocket: "Hey, hey, old man, don't get excited. Is this a quick-acting heart medicine?"

"Just one, one is enough. You have to eat it sparingly. I'm fine." Old Qin sat down, panting heavily.

He calmed himself down and, not wanting to take the pill, put it back in the small bottle.

Qian Jin was dumbfounded: "What's going on, sir?"

“He has a heart condition,” Liu Jinshan said. “He can’t get angry or agitated, and he just can’t see anyone.”

Qian Jin smiled wryly: "Then why did you buy the alcohol? Heart patients are strictly prohibited from smoking and drinking!"

Old Qin smiled silently and said, "What's the point of having a life if there's no wine?"

"You brought some wine? Here, give it to me. If you two leaders don't mind, please find a place to sit and we can have a drink together."

Upon seeing that it was aged wine, he took the Laba porridge off the stove, placed a small ceramic pot on it, and began to warm the wine.

After three cups of strong liquor, the firelight illuminated the musical score on the wall.

Old Qin's name is Wangji, and his ancestors have been making zithers for five generations.

He donated the shop in 1957. Last year, the government returned some of the supplies to him. He asked for the family heirloom lintel and found someone to exchange it for this temporary residence.

Qian Jin's mind started to wander: "Then you must have quite a few old things at home."

Old Qin said indifferently, "They're all junk. I picked them up from places that people didn't want. I'll try to fix what I can, but most of them are just scrap."

He kicked a broken drum, sending it rolling around.

Liu Jinshan said impatiently, "The leader came to see you sincerely, not to cause trouble, but to buy a musical instrument from you. Don't treat him like a thief."

Qian Jin gave him a hint: "Don't worry, Uncle, there are no outsiders here. I just want to buy a musical instrument for my new wife."

"At the same time, I personally also like musical instruments, so, did our ancestors... hehe, you understand?"

Old Qin glanced at the two of them, then went back and pulled out a musical instrument that looked like a bamboo flute.

Qian Jin took it and looked at it. The first thing he noticed was the "Showa 20" fire mark on the bamboo joint: "Something from the Japanese?"

Liu Jinshan suddenly stood up: "Hey, Lao Qin, you've gone too far! My boss just mentioned his ancestors and you're already giving him Japanese stuff."

"This is a shakuhachi, an instrument that the Japanese stole from our ancestors during the Sui and Tang dynasties," Old Qin said, looking down on his lack of culture. "This shakuhachi has nothing to do with the Japanese; it was made by us Chinese."

"The words on it were carved on the night the Japanese surrendered in 1945. After the surrender was broadcast, the military police captain in Haibin City committed seppuku in my shop."

Qian Jin asked, "Then in what year was this shakuhachi produced?"

Old Qin said, "It's been four or five years, but the tone is still very good."

He picked up the shakuhachi and stroked it for a while, then said, "I'll play 'Autumn Thoughts at the Dressing Table' for you, and you'll know what I mean."

The music began softly.

Qian Jin didn't understand music, but he could hear the poignant sorrow in the melody.

“Listen to my overtones.” Old Qin suddenly pressed down on the hole. “The shakuhachi emphasizes achieving enlightenment with a single note, which is the same as the breathing techniques of Buddhism and Taoism.”

He blew a long note, and Qian Jin nodded repeatedly after hearing it.

Liu Jinshan was full of admiration: "Captain Qian, your level of education is quite high."

I didn't hear anything from Qian Jin's secret passage either, but shouldn't I at least nod in support? Don't you understand social etiquette or what?

Liu Jinshan thought to himself, "Actually, what I said was just to support you. You don't understand me, Liu Jinshan, or what..."

Qian Jin asked directly, "Is this the oldest musical instrument in your shop? Do you have any that are even closer to our ancestors'?"

Old Qin glanced at Liu Jinshan and shook his head: "That's it. This is the oldest one. I've always wanted to donate it to a museum, after all, it's stained with the blood of the Japanese invaders."

"But I didn't have any proof, so they wouldn't accept it. However, it's also because it's considered an anti-Japanese war item, so keeping it can serve as a souvenir."

Qian Jin thought that this was not a suitable gift for Wei Qinghuan, so he asked, "I was thinking of giving my wife a musical instrument. Do you have any recommendations?"

Old Qin pulled a paulownia wood box from under the bed, inside which was an exquisite red silk.

Lift the red silk, and underneath is an unvarnished erhu. The soundbox is already covered with blue-and-white snakeskin; once varnished, it will be ready to use.

"This was made from the last piece of rosewood I had, and the tuning pegs were inlaid with scrap steel balls from a bearing factory—an old craft in the new era."

Old Qin stroked the markings on the neck of the instrument as he spoke, his words tinged with reluctance.

Liu Jinshan asked, "What's the deal with this snakeskin?"

Old Qin said calmly, "Nothing much, just a genuine python skin. This skin is 50 years old, a testament to the transition from the old to the new." Qian Jin hesitated.

Should Wei Qinghuan learn to play the erhu?
He had no problem with the erhu, but it was hard to equate it with elegance and intellect.

So he asked further, "Master Qin, I am very sincere and really want to find a suitable musical instrument for my wife."

"I don't mean to look down on the erhu, but I feel that it's a bit lacking when a woman plays it."

Old Qin went to prepare his Laba porridge again. He brought down the wine pot, and the coal stove emitted blue smoke, making the basement somewhat hazy.

He turned around and asked, "Are you really buying a musical instrument for your partner?"

Liu Jinshan was angry: "Hey, you old Qin, didn't my boss say as soon as he walked in that he got married and wanted to give his new wife a gift?"

Old Qin was puzzled: "Then why is your boss coming in and talking about ancestors and antiquities?"

Qian Jin understood.

The old man misunderstood, thinking that he was using the pretense of bringing his wife to him to hunt for antiques and cultural relics.

In fact, he also wanted to buy musical instruments for his wife and collect antiques and cultural relics for himself.

Old Qin continued, "In the new society, women who learn musical instruments like to make a loud and lively sound. Bamboo flutes are cheap, only two yuan each in state-run stores; guzheng are more expensive, but you can play 'Liuyang River'..."

"I've heard that the sound of the xiao (vertical bamboo flute) is elegant and refined," Qian Jin asked directly. "Would it be better for women to learn to play the xiao?"

Old Qin readily took out two flutes, one green and one purple: "Playing the flute requires practicing diaphragmatic breathing, which is three times more difficult than playing the dizi!"

"Back in 1955 when I taught the performing arts troupe, nine out of ten girls would blush and still not be able to produce a good voice!"

"However, if you want to learn the xiao (vertical bamboo flute), I have this item here. You can take one back with you."

Liu Jinshan spared no effort in helping Qian Jin: "Don't try to fool my leader with such worthless things."

"If he wanted to buy a flute or something, would he need to come here? I remember you have a big item here. My boss is the fairest person, and he's trustworthy. Why don't you take it out and let him take a look?"

Old Qin muttered to himself, "What big item are you talking about?"

Liu Jinshan craned his neck and looked around, gesturing with his hand to indicate a long distance: "That one is this big, and it's in a gilded lacquer box with peony scroll patterns on it..."

Old Qin understood and pulled out a long, rectangular packaging box from the corner of the room.

The box opened to reveal a Suzhou-embroidered handkerchief. He swept it with his hand, and rosin shavings fell to the ground in a flurry.

A four-foot-long wooden musical instrument was revealed. It was a zither, with a double lotus flower carved on the headstock. Thirteen steel strings were stretched on gilded bridges, and the soundbox was marked with the words "Made in the Gengzi Year by Tianqin Hall".

Liu Jinshan clapped his hands excitedly: "This is it! You used to treasure this and even asked me to hide it for you."

“This is a zither!” Master Chen’s fingertips traced the bridge of the instrument. “The ‘instrument of the Tang Dynasty’s popular music troupe’ recorded in the Song Dynasty’s ‘Book of Music’ refers to this. It has to be played with a horsehair bow, but now you can’t find a single horsehair bow in the entire Haibin City.”

“It’s practically useless now, which is why I didn’t take it out. It’s not that I’m reluctant to give it to you.”

Qian Jin hesitated.

He didn't know what a horsehair bow was, but he was sure it was sold in the mall. He just didn't know the size, and whether he could buy it for her now.

Even if he could buy it, he wouldn't be very interested.

Because Lao Qin had demonstrated it to him; this thing wasn't for playing, but for standing in front of someone holding that so-called horsehair bow and pulling it.

To be honest, the pulling motion looked very familiar to him, like pulling a large saw.

What kind of tyrannical emperor watches a half-naked young woman pulling a large saw?
Old Qin gently stroked the guqin, then gritted his teeth and said with a final, resolute determination, "Since the leader..."

"A leader shouldn't take what belongs to others." Qian Jin quickly intervened. "Deputy Captain Liu, don't interrupt or try to pressure him. Why don't you go wait outside while I have a good talk with the old master, okay?"

Liu Jinshan left with an embarrassed smile.

Qian Jin slammed the lid of the guqin shut and said, "Don't worry, old man, I'm not a Japanese devil who comes in to burn, kill, and loot. I'm genuinely here to buy something from you and ask you some questions."

"It's not just me, but also my girlfriend. After she buys a musical instrument, she will ask you for advice on how to play the xiao (vertical flute) and the qin (a seven-stringed zither). Of course, we will pay for the lessons."

Upon hearing that he didn't want the guqin, Old Qin immediately smiled and waved his hands repeatedly, saying:

"Whatever you fancy, sir, I'll give it to you. But it can't be bought or sold. As for learning, it's simple. Just have your wife come, and I'll definitely teach her well."

Then he said warmly, "I see you haven't eaten yet. Here, I'll scoop you a bowl of porridge. There are some biscuits I brought with me; please make do with these."

Lifting the lid, the sweet aroma of Laba porridge wafts out.

Qian Jin strolled around and saw a guzheng hanging on the wall: "That's a guzheng, right? My wife has a classical beauty, so wouldn't it be great for her to learn the guzheng?"

Old Qin slurped up a mouthful of porridge and said regretfully, "It's a guzheng. I have several guzheng here, as well as pipa and other instruments, but they're all broken. The strings are broken and they can't be used."

Qian Jin thought for a moment and said, "What if I could provide you with the strings?"

Old Qin immediately stood up excitedly and said, "Boss, if you can provide me with strings, rosin, and other such things, you can choose any musical instrument you like here. I'll give you whatever you want!"

Qian Jin's gaze swept over the pipa covered in cobwebs in the corner; he really didn't have anything he wanted to choose.

Old Qin then took out a box for him: "I knew you were looking for antiques as soon as you came in, but I didn't dare to take them because there was a third person here. Now I can show you this."

The wooden box was small, but it was exquisitely carved with dragon and phoenix patterns.

The contents inside the box contrasted sharply with the wooden box, and the overall impression was very mediocre.

It is a piece of pottery, slightly larger than a fist, with a flat bottom and an oval shape. The only decoration on its surface is the bird and animal pattern carved on it. If placed on the ground, it would easily be mistaken for a clod of dirt.

Qian Jin picked it up and said, "I recognize this thing a little. Is this an xun?"

He vaguely remembered this item, which had been popular in short videos for a while in his previous life.

"It's said to be a pottery ocarina from the late Yangshao culture. An old friend of mine who works at a museum helped me authenticate it, and he said it was a sacrificial vessel from the Dongyi tribe of the Longshan culture," Old Qin said in a low voice.

Qian Jin was furious when he heard this.

Late Yangshao Culture...

Sacrificial artifacts of the Dongyi tribes...

This must be a national treasure that goes into the National Museum!
He looked at Lao Qin in shock.

Old Qin couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Boss, you believed that? I was just kidding."

"Look how exquisite this thing is. It already has five holes. How could it possibly be an ancient Xun from the Yangshao culture?"

“The Xun of the Yangshao culture only has one hole, so you can only blow it randomly with a whirring sound. This is a five-hole pottery Xun.”

He picked it up and carefully wiped off the dust: "Actually, this thing doesn't belong to me. It belongs to my old friend who's a naturalist, as I just mentioned."

“Back then, I kept a lot of things for my old friend. Later, he retreated there with the Nationalist army. Before he left, he gave me this five-hole pottery flute as a souvenir.”

"You know about antiques, right? You can tell it's an antique, right?"

Qian Jin could sense the age of this five-hole pottery flute.

He discovered that these days, a sixth sense is more reliable than carefully studying antiques, because there are no techniques for artificially aging antiques and no fakes.

Therefore, when you get an item, your sixth sense is often very accurate in determining whether it is an antique.

So he asked, "Can I take this ocarina with me?"

Old Qin shook his head and then nodded.

Qian Jin: "What do you mean?"

Old Qin shook his head and said, "If you take this ocarina as a gift for your wife, I can't teach her how to play it, because I don't know how to play the five-hole ocarina. There probably aren't many people who can play it nowadays."

Qian Jin said, "That's alright, I'll go back and think about it myself."

Old Qin continued, "You'll have to give something else in return. This is an old item; my friend determined it to be from the Han Dynasty."

Qian Jin was overjoyed.

He asked, "What price do you want?"

Old Qin shook his head and said, "I don't do business. I'd like to trade something with you. Do you have anything good?"

Qian Jin said, "How about foreign exchange certificates? And you probably need a lot of materials to repair strings and other musical instruments, right?"

"Or you can give me a list, and I should be able to help you find some of the materials."

This offer is very tempting.

Old Qin nodded solemnly.

Qian Jin added, "You have heart disease and need to keep nitroglycerin pills on hand? I can get you some too, and they're imported. They're definitely effective, much better than the ones you're taking!"

Old Qin placed the ocarina in a beautiful, antique-style box and handed it to him: "Deal!"

(End of this chapter)