Xu Qiao lowered her eyelashes and watched the little girl on the stage smile shyly at the audience, then walk off the stage holding the pipa. It was obvious that she cherished the pipa in her arms very much.
Retracting his gaze, Xu Qiao responded to Wen Lin: "For her age, it's quite good for her to play like this. It's a bit harsh to describe it as 'dead stuff'."
Ying Wenlin smiled bitterly: "I don't want to say that. I want to see a good seedling emerge more than anyone else."
A waiter in a small jacket poured tea for the two of them. Xu Qiao thanked him and looked up to see the little girl who had just been playing on the stage walking towards them with a pipa in her arms.
"Uncle Ying." The little girl stopped by the table and called out crisply, then smiled shyly at Xu Qiao, "Brother Xu Qiao."
It turned out that she knew Ying Wenlin. Xu Qiao nodded to her.
The little girl sat down, still holding the pipa in her arms. Ying Wenlin touched her head and said to Xu Qiao, "This is my niece, Ying Zhengchun."
"Xiaochun, let your brother Xu Qiao give us some pointers on the song we just sang."
Xiaochun had never heard that Xu Qiao could play the pipa, so she blinked her eyes and obediently handed the pipa to him.
Ying Wenlin adjusted his posture and looked at Xu Qiao with interest.
He had only heard Xu Qiao play the sanxian, and his skills could be described as superb, but he had never heard him play the pipa. Thinking of what Xu Qiao had said before, "He is best at the pipa, the erhu is also OK, and the sanxian is the worst," Ying Wenlin thought it was probably an exaggeration.
It would take other people half a lifetime to master the skills of playing the sanxian, and yet they still end up being the worst
Xu Qiao took the pipa, wrapped his nails around it and adjusted his posture.
Ying Wenlin sighed in his heart, this posture, the taste is there. Some people just sit there, and their whole body exudes the style of the masters.
Seeing Xiaochun looking at him with wide eyes, Xu Qiao smiled at her, then tilted his head, put his hands on the strings, lowered his eyes and whispered, "The melody of "Song of the Frontier" does not have strong ups and downs, and there should be tension and relaxation in the straightforward narrative."
Xiaochun nodded vigorously.
She pinched the edge of her clothes with her fingers, and her heart began to beat. She felt that the way Xu Qiao held the pipa was exactly like the description in the ancient poem: holding the pipa and half covering her face.
Xiaochun is not very old, but he always feels that his head is empty and I can’t find an appropriate word to describe him.
Thoughts came to her mind one after another. Xiaochun thought of watching TV a few days ago. There was a dancer from the Western Regions. People on TV said she was charming.
Yes, it is "charming and charming". Xiaochun's eyes lit up and she felt that this was the word.
Even though this word seemed a little strange to be used for a man, Xiaochun felt that she couldn't find a more suitable one.
"Songs of the Frontier" is a suite of five independent songs, the first of which is "Palace Resentment and Spring Thoughts".
Xu Qiao's thoughts drifted back to a long, long time ago when he hid in a brothel, disguising himself as a woman to survive.
He could no longer remember those faces, but in a trance, he seemed to hear the stern voice of the teaching nanny again. He practiced pipa for many years, working hard in the hottest days of summer and the coldest days of winter.
"Alternate between tension and relaxation. This requires attention to the fingering of the left hand. Plucking, twisting, and especially the use of push-pull sounds." Xu Qiao finished speaking in a low voice, pressed the strings with his left hand, and rolled the strings with his right hand, and the music began to sound.
Ying Wenlin's ears moved slightly, and his mind was immersed in it.
The sound is bright and the tune is gentle. The gurgling sound of the pipa carries the sorrow and resentment of a girl. The melancholy of Zhaojun sitting by the window and looking at the high palace walls in the past is spread out in front of her like a scroll.
The voices of the guests in the teahouse suddenly became quieter, and they all looked up to find the source of the sound.
"It's 'Song of the Frontier' again. Eh? This tune!"
"Which master is playing it?"
"I don't know. It came from the second floor."
"Hush, keep your voice down and listen carefully."
The guests in the teahouse have been listening to music for years and have the ability to distinguish it. When they first heard the music, they were all a little excited.
Xiaochun's performance just now was quite impressive, and it was not difficult to see her future achievements in pipa. However, compared with her current performance, it was far worse, and there was no comparison at all.
Listening to this new "Song of the Frontier", my mind became empty.
Xu Qiao closed his eyes and pushed, pulled, and rubbed the strings with his fingers.
Even the slightest difference in speed brings about a difference in feeling.
Ying Wenlin stared at his posture and fingers, his expression changing again and again.
The way Xu Qiao held the pipa and the way he fingered when playing it seemed a little strange, yet very harmonious.
The pipa has evolved over thousands of years, and the playing techniques have changed a lot. Ying Wenlin finally confirmed that Xu Qiao was using that ancient technique.
He thought again of Xu Qiao's previous experience of playing the sanxian. Thinking back now, it was clear that his technique was very different from what he has now.
Ying Wenlin couldn't figure out who Xu Qiao's master was, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. He held his breath and let himself indulge in this sad and graceful melody.
The pipa has been playing in a foreign language for thousands of years, and resentment is clearly expressed in the music. The sad and sorrowful sound echoes in the teahouse through Xu Qiao's push, pull, chant and rub.
The scene of Concubine Zhaojun's journey to the frontier in the past is depicted through the melody.
In the vast northern frontier, with lonely smoke in the desert and sand blowing up her skirt, the princess holding a pipa is playing the music of her hometown under the dim moonlight.
Xiaochun stared at Xu Qiao blankly, tears streaming down her face unknowingly.
She had practiced the "Song of the Frontier" for a long time. She had played it countless times and knew the score by heart.
Oh I see.
I don’t know how much time passed before the last syllable fell.
Ying Wenlin let out a long breath he had been holding, his lips moved, and he sighed, "This is the song of the frontier..."
Xu Qiao half opened his eyes and heard thunderous applause from upstairs and downstairs.
A noisy sound suddenly arose, and many people rushed to the stairs to see who was playing the piano.
However, Xu Qiao and Ying Wenlin's table was in the VIP area, with partitions on both sides. They couldn't see them at all from the stairs, and when they wanted to get closer, they were stopped by a waiter.
The guests felt a little disappointed, but they couldn't force their way in, so they had to return to their seats. Many of them were still staring at the stairs, waiting for the master who had just played to come down.
After returning the pipa to Xiaochun, Xu Qiao patted her head and said, "The five pieces of "Songs of the Frontier" are similar in structure, melody and emotional expression. When you play them, pay attention to the beginning, development, transition and ending."
Xiaochun took the pipa, sniffed and nodded, looking at Ying Wenlin helplessly, unable to speak for a long time.
Ying Wenlin knew that his niece was shocked and devastated.
Her parents and relatives are all masters of folk music. She has been influenced and taught by them since she was a child. In addition, she has good talent and is the best among the children studying at the same time.
As a result, he is bound to be arrogant and often fails to listen to the teacher's instructions.
But just like Ying Wenlin's previous evaluation of her as "dead thing", Xiaochun has enough skills, but she cannot comprehend the deeper inner things.
Ying Wenlin sighed and looked at Xu Qiao with complicated eyes.
The level of pipa playing was so high that not only Xiaochun but even I was shocked.
Now he understood that Xu Qiao's words "I play the sanxian the worst" were not a self-deprecating statement. It was the truth. Xu Qiao's pipa level was second to none in the folk music orchestra.
It's good for my niece to be hit hard, but it will do her good to calm down and settle down.
Thinking of this, Ying Wenlin looked at Xiaochun, who was in tears, and said, "Xiaochun, I want to talk to your brother Xu Qiao about something. You go back first."
Xiaochun lowered her head, raised her eyes and glanced at Xu Qiao, then hesitated for a long time before she left with the pipa in her arms.
As soon as she went downstairs, someone stopped her and said, "Xiaochun, who was playing the pipa just now?"
Xiaochun hesitated. After all, Xu Qiao was a star, and she didn't know if she could just say that.
Seeing the little girl hesitating for a long time, someone asked, "Could it be Teacher Ying?"
Regular customers of the teahouse all know that Xiaochun and Ying Wenlin are uncle and nephew.
After hearing this, Xiaochun nodded randomly, then hurried away holding her pipa, leaving behind a bunch of confused people.
"Is it really Teacher Ying?"
"That's probably the case... Only Teacher Ying can play like this."
"Why do I remember that Teacher Ying's pipa skills weren't that strong?"
…
After Xiaochun left, Ying Wenlin picked up the teapot and added a cup of tea to Xu Qiao: "My niece is the most outstanding one among the younger generations in the folk music troupe."
Putting down the teapot, he shook his head, a look of helplessness on his face: "You've seen the level, it's not bad, but it's still far from enough."
Xu Qiao pointed at the Mosuo teacup and smiled: "She is still young and has a bright future."
"Young?" Ying Wenlin snorted. "She is sixteen this year. She started learning the pipa at the age of three and has been learning for thirteen years. Xu Qiao, tell me, how many years have you learned it?"
Xu Qiao recalled and looked at Ying Wenlin for a while: "More than ten years."
"More than ten years." Ying Wenlin suddenly had mixed feelings. "I used to think that hard work can make up for clumsiness. Even the dumbest bird can catch up if it learns to fly in advance. But the older I get, the more I realize how rare the word 'talent' is."
"Some people beg for food from God, while others are chased by God to feed them." Ying Wenlin became more and more excited. "I have been playing folk music for nearly 40 years. If others call me a master, can I really consider myself a master?"
"Teacher Ying—"
Ying Wenlin raised his hand to interrupt Xu Qiao: "My teachers saw that I was diligent, so they stepped back and handed the folk music band to me. But since I took over the band, it has been getting worse year by year."
"Xu Qiao, I knew from the previous performance of "Guofeng" that your skills in using the sanxian are better than mine. It turns out that in addition to the sanxian, the same is true for the pipa. You are just being chased by God to feed him."
Xu Qiao pursed her lips and said nothing more.
In the book about the brothel, he learned musical instruments from a teaching nanny for more than ten years. He was beaten and scolded since he was young, and practiced hard every day. He had experienced a lot of hardships.
Ying Wenlin continued, "I told you before that my teachers have stepped back and the Chinese Orchestra's performance at the World Music Exchange Conference has not been very good. A few years ago, I have been running to teahouses and major music colleges every day to find good talents who can hold their own."
He picked up the instrument case that had been placed beside him. "This is the sanxian I made for you. The master craftsman made it with good wood. He originally wanted to use this sanxian to trick you into coming over. But now..."
Ying Wenlin smiled bitterly. After listening to Xu Qiao's pipa skills, he felt that this little bargaining chip was nothing and it would be a joke if he took it out.
Just when Ying Wenlin was looking sad, Xu Qiao took the violin case from his hand and said, "Teacher Ying thinks highly of me."
Ying Wenlin was stunned for a moment, and after he understood what Xu Qiao meant, a bloom of color instantly appeared on his face from the frustration.