In the fifth year of Yuanfeng under the Northern Song, at a small gathering in a Suzhou garden, a player’s finger slips on the strings. But Ju Wangye, who is repairing a stool, first notices a patch of fresh lacquer bulging on the underside of the qin.
He calls a halt to the performance, pays for the wood, and finds himself drawn into a craft where no one truly dares to rush.
A discarded page of music is tucked into a crack. Following a few vague fingering marks, he and the female qin player Shi Fan discover an old academy that holds classes on rainy days, a music instructor lost for many years, and the music garden where Zhu Changwen researches the history of the qin.
How many times has a qin changed hands? How many ways can a tune be played? And who will remember the good work a person has done?
Famous figures have biographies of their own, while carpenters carry old wounds. Some want to give a qin a more prestigious name; others only hope a child can use it to learn their first note.
The book later known as Qin History is slowly taking shape in Suzhou. Beyond its pages, a group of people who earn their living through craft are also trying to leave their voices behind.
