Trembling, but elegantly, an old man in traditional costumes walked on stage and performed the most mysterious, soul-stirring music with instruments I had never seen before. Although I had studied the piano since I was five, and had listened to numerous concerts, I was still shocked by the pure Naxi music, as if it had awakened something in my blood. This was the world's oldest drum corps.

Backstage, I joked casually to the old performer, “You should teach me to play this.” He laughed bitterly, “Our Naxi music is almost dead, the youngest in our band is seventy-three. Two members die each year. The photo that hangs above the stage shows the dozen of deceased actors..."

I listened sadly in silence. Some things are doomed to die, just like the quiet and beautiful ethnic village in Guizhou province where I stayed for twelve days. The mountain valley that gave us the best camping experience was destroyed because of highway construction. Local villagers sang folk songs and danced with bamboo poles, while they did not know how long they could survive under the impact of rising economic tides. I asked myself, what can I do to help?

I began to pay attention to these intangible cultural heritage music. I consciously study them, hoping that one day, I will be able to record and spread the beauty.

In 2016, I went to?a town?close to?Xi'an?city?to study Jixian ancient?music, which was well preserved court music of Sui and Tang Dynasties,?known as "ancient oriental symphony" and "living music fossil". Its ancient musical instruments, chapters, unique forms of sitting and walking?performance, especially its ancient music score, fascinated?me?greatly. I stayed with the old musicians in the rehearse, performance and music temple fairs. I kept interviewing?them,?recording?their story and?history of?the?music. Professor Liu, the authority of Chinese national music, knew what I was doing, wrote an email?to encourage me.

I will never forget that in the night walk, in the dark wilderness,?the music of?hichiriki rang out, and my tears fell?immediately. The music seemed?the?dialogue to the?ancestors?with the power to touch deep into my soul.

I continued my search and visits.?In Xinjiang, I stay with?the twelve Muqam performers, and?in Shanxi, I?found the last traditional blind storytellers.

When I volunteered at drama camp?of a school. My suggestion of adding ancient music?to the drama was accepted and two?old musicians from Jixian?came to?the camp and stayed with us for?ten days. And then, they were?invited to teach?in the classroom. My little effort was "seen" by Professor Liu.?he gifted me a precious bamboo flute with his name engraved on it.?

Although I hadn’t learned to play the flute very well, I took it with me to the U.S. Whenever I felt morose, I took it out. It’s my secret world, where I hovered with the music rooted in my culture, and others could neither enter nor understand.

Until one day, at a performance, I was profoundly shocked by the music created by the Native American flutes. The performer painted his face, knelt on his knees with a posture of fervent worship. The sound of his flute was so stunning. It nearly made me cry, just like music?of hichiriki?that I heard in the dark wilderness.

I suddenly realized that music in different cultures and people on Earth are interlinked; there’s no barrier that music can’t surpass. I thought of writer Wang Xiaobo’s words: “The places I'm going to are my hometowns that I've never met, and the people who I’ll meet will become my friends.”