"The wind leaf flute was given to me by my mother before she passed away."
Ling Tiancheng handed the flute to Ye Hansheng. Ye Hansheng carefully observed the flute in his hand, "It's different from ordinary flutes."
"Try it."
Ye Hansheng curiously imitated Ling Tiancheng and played it, but there was no sound. At least he would have made some noise when he played other instruments, but this one made no sound at all. "I can't." Ye Hansheng returned the things to him.
Ling Tiancheng looked at the flute and said with a smile: "My mother told me before that this flute is made of unique materials. After the flute recognizes its owner, only those who are in love with the owner can play it."
"How interesting."
Intention: A feeling that cannot be expressed, just feel it with your eyes