Fan Wubing said, "The Changle Pavilion."
"Is it willing to let you use it?"
"Yes."
Chengming sighed deeply, "I made it for my late wife Jiang Nianshu. She was still very young then and couldn't afford a good zither of her own. I often saw her looking at those luxurious, high-end zithers in the music store with sparkling eyes." He smiled, "I was just a poor lad then, knew nothing besides forging. I liked her, so I sneaked into the store, sketched a zither in secret, thinking it's just a piece of wood and about twenty strings, I could make one for her."
Fan Wubing listened with great interest.
He wasn't fond of love stories. But Chengming's tone, as if reliving the past, caught his interest.
Chengming said, "But I was a blacksmith, not good at crafting zithers. I struggled for days, managing only to make the body. The zither I copied had a dragon shape. I used stones and got the scales wrong, making the slender body short and stout, so I had to turn it into a carp instead."
