In the upper reaches of the Yangtze River, in the town of Baisha Wharf, a group of orphans grew up slowly. These children come from all over the world and come from all kinds of backgrounds, including dock workers, suburban farmers, professional thieves, teachers, doctors, and well-known artists------ Orphans know they are orphans.They like to be together. I don't know which time during the arrangement, a staff member grabbed a big and stout little guy, and shouted, "Oh, big brother, come here for me."The other adults laughed.Later, people called this child Big Brother. Later, there were two senior brothers and three senior brothers ----- seventeen and eighteen senior brothers.Of course, there are also those who are called the third child, the fourth child, or the ninth brother, or the youngest twenty.

There is no place where only names are used as symbols.But White Sands Pier is. All the brothers and sisters have been used to hearing a sentence since they were young: Your life is picked.Later, they also used to say a word: Our lives are picked. Before the eighth senior brother was ranked as the eighth senior brother, he was a preschooler who studied piano hard.His piano learning was discovered by a rightist professor. One afternoon, the eighth senior brother passed by the outermost hut in this town, and heard the sound of jingle dongdong from inside, which was very pleasant.Before I knew it, I stood outside the door and listened.Until it got dark, the piano stopped playing, and I was still reconciled, so I put my feet up and looked inside.

The door opened, and a fat little old man came out and called him in. The little old man said, you can still listen for so long, it is not easy. Brother Eight asked if you played it?Come back and listen to me.The little old man picked up the piano he was playing just now.The piano is like a gourd with many strings on it. The eighth brother asked again what musical instrument it was? The little old man said hey, you also know how to ask - musical instruments.This is called a mandolin. Is it foreign?the little one asked. right.How do you know it is foreign? My guess. The little old man was very happy and said that your child is very smart.Let me test you.Let me play a sentence and see if you can hum it.He picked up the pick and dialed a string of tones.

The eighth brother immediately hummed out——————————————————————————————. The little old man was taken aback.You can still hum the roll call!Incredible.Who have you studied with? No.He answered truthfully. The little old man played again.This sentence is a little more complicated than the previous one.But the eighth senior brother still hummed accurately. The little old man was very excited, lowered his head, and muttered: It's a pity that a child like you doesn't learn music.Then ask him if he would like to learn an instrument with him. Brother Eight said yes.that's it.This is how the eighth brother's life began.

At first Brother Eight thought that the little old man wanted to teach him how to learn the mantolin, but the little old man said that this kind of instrument would not be of much use in China.Let him learn the violin. The little old man still played the violin first, and asked Xi if he liked listening to this instrument.The eighth brother said that I have liked it for a long time. This is the violin. There are many people in the art troupe of the national defense factory above, but I think they are not as good as you. The little old man laughed and said that I was specially taught this!Why do you think I pull better than them?

Your voice is better! Can you tell the difference between what they pulled and what I pulled? The eighth brother opened the child's crystal eyes wide, and after a while, said, the sound they made was not as clean as yours.After a pause, I added another sentence: The voices you make, one by one, are like pebbles soaked in river water. The little old man bent down, lifted the child who hadn't yet entered elementary school into the air, and then lowered it to the ground.Without saying a word, tears filled his eyes. Slowly, the eighth senior brother learned something about the little old man.He is from Shanghai and moved to Chongqing during the Anti-Japanese War.He later became a professor of violin at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music.Later, he was labeled as a rightist and returned to Chongqing.