Red things bring happiness, white things bring souls. Some tunes cannot be touched in a lifetime.
My father never taught me that tune until his death. But the first time I took over, my hand blew out by itself.
Beyond the graveyard, something understood.
It recognized this tune—it had been waiting for this tune for a long time.
My father is the best suona craftsman from all over the country.
Half a month ago, he was leaning on the kang, speechless and unable to lift a finger.
On the night of the funeral of the old lady from the north of the village, no one took the job, so I had to do it.
After waking up, I received the first sound of "The Great Funeral".
As I blew, my ten fingers turned into a tune that I didn't recognize at all.
What's even more sinister is behind - there is another suona on the other side of the cemetery, which catches my sound.
There was no one in front.
