A story that my grandfather used to tell. Back in the late '20s, when he was forced to flee his home country, he fled from everything that might puncture that sensitive heart of his, except for an erhu he carried with him. To this day I only have this vague but melodic and rhythmic recollection of the exiled man. Over the course of decades, until all that was left of him was a Chinese instrument to play. It's a music story my grandfather told me and producing for the continuance.