world class art fanatic

Zhong Ying was terrified by the old man's angry reprimand.

It was the sadness and pain that went deep into the soul, and with every word and sound of his, the old hatred was set off and gushed out.

Even his eyebrows, his lips, and his eyes were trembling violently, as if a tsunami and torrent had erupted from the bottom of his heart, no matter how hard he couldn't restrain the convulsions of his body, his soul was in extreme pain.

Zhong Ying is very sensitive to emotions, in the face of such anger, he can hardly move, let alone argue.

Seeing this, Fan Chengyun immediately whispered: "Mr. He, Xiao Ying didn't do it on purpose. He hasn't met Mr. Feng, so he didn't do it on purpose..."

As soon as the master explained, Zhong Ying knew that he had said something wrong.

But he recalled it over and over again in his mind, and he still didn't know why the old man was furious with the hope that the sun would rise in the east and be full of vigor.

"If you haven't seen it, I'll let you see it."

He Yuan smashed the cane heavily and made a harsh sound, as if hitting his heart hard.

"Come with me!"

The old man, who was so angry that he was about to be unable to stand still, turned around and strode forward with a cane.

Everyone didn't dare to say more, and followed him closely.

Zhong Ying looked astonished, and his pace was more uneasy than ever.

Master...

He didn't make a sound, but opened his lips slightly and shouted.

Fan Chengyun immediately shook his head understandingly.

"it's okay no problem."

The master said in a low voice, and raised his hand to gently pat Zhong Ying's back, comforting the poor innocent child.

This is not the time for explanations.

If they say a word or make a sound, it may make the poor old man angry with tears in his eyes.

He Yuansheng is eighty years old, no matter how straight his back is, it can't conceal the weakness and vicissitudes of time.

Fan Chengyun and Zhong Yingjing followed him.

President Xie and his assistant carefully supported him.

Everyone was silent in a very tacit understanding, and no longer spoke to touch the grief buried deep in the old man's heart.

The vehicle drove quickly, and its destination was no longer the Chinese Mutual Aid Association, but He Yuansheng's home.

Zhong Ying got out of the car and had to look up to see the whole picture of this magnificent building.

The He family took root in the United States and has been in business for four generations. Just from where he lives, he can know that the old man can indeed afford Bai Huisheng's huge medical expenses.

He also realized more clearly how much he paid for the set of chime clocks when he bought back Xisheng's He's Chamber of Commerce from auction houses and collectors.

A group of people walked into the courtyard, and the children who were leisurely drinking afternoon tea looked over curiously.

"Grandpa Zeng?"

"Grandpa!"

"Mr. He?"

The chirping calls finally broke the dignified atmosphere, but He Yuansheng glared at him again.

"No one is allowed to come in!"

With a straight face and a deep voice, he made the whole He residence return to the same silence.

Countless innocent eyes watched Zhong Ying and them enter the house with the curiosity unique to children.

Zhong Ying followed He Yuan's voice through the hall, and walked into the study that belonged to Mr. He.

The moment his eyes fell on the wall of the study, he felt even more depressed.

Because there are many photos hanging on the wall of the study.

Every photo has Mr. Feng and Teacher Bai. He Yuansheng carefully made these group photos and single photos into decorations, and solemnly kept them where he could see them at any time.

When Feng Yuanqing was young, he stood in the courtyard wearing a suit.

The sound of Bai Hui when he was young, he drew his bow and played with downcast eyes.

This spacious and bright study room seemed to freeze the youth of the two of them, allowing time to stay forever when He Yuansheng wished to stay.

Zhong Ying's eyes only fell on the photos placed next to the desk, and he could see the gray-haired and aging Mr. Feng.

It was a photo of three people.

Even though they were wearing similar exaggerated sunglasses and the same pitch-black gown, Zhong Ying could still tell who they were.

The young man with a bright smile and holding an erhu is his Teacher Bai.

The arrogant middle-aged man with serious expression and slightly raised chin should be He Yuansheng from decades ago.

And the old man who focused on playing the erhu with a kind smile on his mouth must be Mr. Feng.

Zhong Ying has seen many such happy group photos at Mr. Bai's house.

In that era when the photography style was not rich and colorful, the three generations of masters and apprentices had already taken many unique artistic photos, which became one of the few decorations in Bai Huisheng's home.

Sometimes they stand under the trees of Qingling Lake College, sometimes they wear shirts and suits and huddle on dilapidated office benches.

The location and attire have been changing, but what remains unchanged are their round sunglasses, the erhu in their hands, and the happy smiles similar to those of their teachers, uncles and nephews.

Zhong Ying looked at the photos silently, feeling the overflowing nostalgia in the photos.

Mr. He must often sit at the desk, look at their irreversible youth, and feel the warmth and beauty of their brief meeting.

Thinking of this, Zhong Ying couldn't help but look at He Yuansheng quietly.

After the old man walked into the study, he rushed to the big bookcase next to him, opened the door, and searched for something seriously.

After a while, he finally got what he wanted——

A tape player, an old cassette.

Zhong Ying almost failed to recognize the old object.

It has a rectangular plastic shell, two circular wheels, and a roll of gray-black twisted ribbon, wrapped in the dust of history, exuding an outdated color, forming a music medium that has been popular for more than half a century.

He Yuansheng lowered his eyes and put the tape into the player with trembling hands.

He pressed the button, and rustling noises came from the quiet study.

After a while, Zhong Ying heard soft laughter.

"Haha, can this record what I said?"

Someone next to it seems to answer yes.

The voice smiled again and said, "Hello Yuansheng, I never imagined that the world is developing so fast, we can still chat in this way."

"However, I haven't spoken English for many years, so let me speak Chinese with you."

The relaxed and leisurely tone of the other party started a one-sided chat.

He said that today is a sunny day, and it is really not easy to have such warm sunshine in winter.

He said that although we haven't been in touch for a long time, he recalled that the last time the sound of Xisheng sounded seemed like yesterday.

That was Feng Yuanqing whom Zhong Ying had never really seen.

But this old man, who has long passed away, is using an outdated tape player to make a sound more than 40 years ago.

Mr. Feng at the time of recording was not young.

Zhong should be able to hear his tiredness and oldness in the rustling noise, and he will always be distracted by his laughter.

His voice is always laughing.

He laughed that he was a curious old antique. He laughed that he hadn't written a letter for a long time and didn't know what to say.

Every word of Feng Yuanqing reveals his happiness.

It seems to be a very fun and interesting thing to be able to communicate with apprentices who are far away in the United States with a novel "foreign gadget" like recording.

He babbled and chatted without focus.

Even the big white geese wandering by the frozen pond of Qingling Lake College were mentioned in his recordings, and he made a quack ventriloquist imitation on the spot.

Lively and vividly.

The silent He Yuansheng finally spoke again amidst the background sound.

"When Master left the United States in 1956, Xisheng only recovered nineteen bell bodies."

He touched the back of the study chair, sat in wearily, and stared at the spinning tape player.

"Even though the distance between China and the United States is more than 1 kilometers, Master has always maintained correspondence with me. Sometimes two or three letters a month, sometimes four or five letters a month, sometimes delivered by the post office, and sometimes friends who go to the United States Bring it yourself."

That period of time was the saddest and happiest time for the young He Yuansheng.

He was sad that Master left him, but also happy to feel that Master always cared about him.

Not only because of a set of chime bells, but also because of their 15-year master-student friendship, which cannot be weakened even across the ocean.

Feng Yuanqing watched him grow up, and he got used to his master teaching him to read and recognize phonetics.

Even though his erhu performance has always been mediocre, even if Xisheng's bell body is still incomplete, it does not prevent him from knowing the distant eastern continent through the erhu and Xisheng.

Let him feel from the bottom of his heart that it is the motherland of the master, and it is also his motherland.

Feng Yuanqing returned to the motherland, and he was extremely eager to go back with Master.

However, he is only fifteen and has not finished his studies.

Feng Yuanqing warned carefully: "You have to stay in the United States and find Xisheng. Once Xisheng is found, I will pick you up and go to China together."

Since then, he has been longing to get Xisheng back, longing for Feng Yuanqing to pick them up.

Fortunately, in the lonely and empty time, he still has letters from afar for comfort.

Zhong Ying quietly listened to Mr. He's narration, his deep and vicissitudes voice gradually overlapped with that of Feng Yuanqing.

As if two old people were telling him about the years sleeping in the tape at the same time.

This time is quiet and leisurely, even after decades, what is recorded on the tape is Feng Yuanqing's laughter.

However, He Yuan couldn't laugh out loud.

He said: "Suddenly one day, I could no longer receive letters."

He Yuansheng thought that it was the huge waves on the ocean that swallowed up the message from Master.

So, he began to invite businessmen who travel between China and the United States all the year round to carry letters and items for him.

But I didn't expect that there was no such thing as Feng Yuanqing in Qingling Lake in China, and there were fewer and fewer businessmen going to China.

The old man stared at the tape of the chat in silence, and said again in silence for a long time: "I have entrusted many people and thought of many ways. If I hadn't been busy negotiating Xisheng's deal with people and looking for traces of Xisheng, I should have gone there. China."

He Yuansheng brought up the panic of those years, full of remorse.

He sighed leisurely: "I didn't receive such a tape until the spring of 1978."

The tape recorder is a friend, and the tape is a friend.

At that time, it was easy to get lost by overseas mail, so my friend went to Qingling Lake in person and brought it back for him in person.

It's just that He Yuansheng didn't receive a copy of the voice recorded in winter until the next spring.

However, he is happy.

I am very glad that Master is well, and also happy that Master has a vigorous disciple and grandson.

He Yuansheng listened to the sound from the tape machine. He had listened to it for many years, and he could already recite every word in it.

Feng Yuanqing finally finished talking about the daily chores and introduced He Yuansheng's lovely nephew.

"Hui Sheng, play a section of "Horse Racing" for your uncle, and let him hear about your skills."

"Eh!"

The energetic response of the young man shattered the dullness and solemnity of the study room.

"Master, let me give my uncle a piece of "War Horse Galloping"! I just learned it, so he must have never heard of it!"

After finishing speaking, the stringed sound of the erhu like galloping horses, in the rustling noise, aroused a sense of daring and pride.

Zhong Ying has never seen such a happy Teacher Bai.

Just a sentence, just a piece of music, he seemed to see a youthful boy, pressed the strings, threw out the bow's white horse tail, and played a heroic song of cavalry warriors.

When he met Bai Huisheng, the teacher was already a calm middle-aged man.

Perhaps only in the old tapes can he hear his carefree youthful heart.

The impassioned and impassioned melody of "War Horse Galloping" dispelled the depressive melancholy in the study.

Bai Hui's amazing talent for singing, deduces an erhu tune with the smell of galloping horses, swords, swords and halberds.

This smoke is the fireworks of victory.

The tape was full of noise, but it couldn't cover the resolute bow and horn, shaking the whole study room in a joyful celebration with the sound of horses neighing.

He Yuansheng listened carefully to the performance, sighed, and then said slowly:

"Two years later, Huisheng came to the United States to study. Master told me to take good care of him. After another five years, I personally sent Huisheng back to China, and only then did I know what happened during the period when Master lost contact."

A long journey, difficult and urgent.

He Yuansheng finally met his longing master in Qingling Lake.

Unfortunately, the master never saw him again.

The Feng Yuanqing in He Yuansheng's memory was young, handsome and vigorous.

Wearing a suit, he is the most handsome literati; wearing a long gown, he is the most elegant musician.

When they met again, Feng Yuanqing had haggard and old skin, grinned dry lips, and wore ridiculous black sunglasses.

And behind the sunglasses, there are gaps in the frames that cannot be covered, and ugly scars that cannot be hidden.

"—how wonderful."

Feng Yuanqing's voice came from the old-fashioned tape player, accompanied by rustling noises.

He is lamenting that he can play the erhu well with the big Baihui sound in one hand.

He was happily resuming the college entrance examination, and thousands of students flocked to libraries, bookstores, and colleges, full of thirst for knowledge.

The old tape recorded 44 years ago still completely preserves Feng Yuanqing's always optimistic and relaxed voice.

"Huisheng can read English very well. Just like you, he has recognized Xisheng as his relative since he was a child, so he has to take it home no matter what."

"Yuansheng, I'm getting old, and I can't go to America that far away. Next time, I'll ask Huisheng to come over for me, and show me the five clocks you helped Xisheng recover."

His voice is brisk, talking about all the beautiful imaginations.

It seemed that when Huisheng came to America, he could see Xisheng becoming more and more complete.

But at that time, he had long since disappeared!

The tape machine clicked and turned to the end.

He Yuansheng's palm lightly brushed the tape machine, looking at the "Winter 1977, letter from Feng Yuanqing, one" written by himself.

He thought of Feng Yuanqing's optimism and composure, and that he was unaware of Master's suffering.

Thinking of what Zhong Ying said, Master wants to see the rising sun in the east with his own eyes...

"He can't see it, he can't see it anymore..."

The old man's voice trembled, he muttered to himself, and slowly raised his eyes to look at the young and ignorant Zhong Ying.

"Because the students taught by the master have committed evil deeds beyond conscience—"

Tears blurred his vision, and the old man was hoarse.

"They said that the one who played the erhu should be blind, and his eyes were broken!"