Northern Piano Prodigy

About This Novel

Lao Qu made a special trip from Beijing. It was raining. He said on the phone that he would arrive at eight o'clock in the morning and asked me if he could do it. He was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get up. I said OK, no problem. Sure enough, he came on time at eight o'clock. It is still raining. It should be said that this rain is the first autumn rain in Shenyang, and the always sentimental old song has become more sentimental in the autumn rain. A sixty-year-old man, even though he was wearing a contemporary T-shirt, even though his waist was still straight and straight, and even though his curly hair was still fluffy and elegant with an artistic flair, he really couldn't hide the fatigue caused by a night's journey - his eye sockets were sunken and his voice was hoarse. Over the past few years, Laoqu has been accustomed to this route from Shenyang to Beijing. He used to search for or carry piano wood on this route to make violins for others.

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