Song of the Phoenix

Under the patient guidance of Master Jiao, Tianming begins the long path of learning the suona. The lessons unfold in the close-knit setting of Wushuang village, where every breath and note is shaped by tradition. Early on, he struggles before starting to steady as the sounds slowly become his own.

Tianming and Lan Yu dream of earning a place in Jiao's traveling ensemble, which performs at weddings and funerals across the Wushuang villages. They practice together, sharpening their tones and timing, imagining the road beyond their village. The dream binds them to a future that feels both hopeful and fragile.

When Master Jiao announces his retirement, he designates Tianming as his successor and passes down centuries-old techniques along with the coveted Song of the Phoenix. The responsibility weighs heavily as the old repertoire and methods bear the pressure of continuity. Tianming embraces the duty, sensing that the fate of the tradition rests on his shoulders.

As Tianming grows into the ensemble's principal, the cultural landscape shifts against them. The popularity of traditional music wanes and Western instruments rise in favor with many audiences. Fewer gigs arrive, and the group begins to feel the squeeze of an era in transition.

With opportunities drying up, the surviving members confront the practical reality that they may need to seek work elsewhere to survive. The ensemble becomes fractured as fatigue and money pressures pull individuals toward factory labor and other jobs. The music's urgency descends into a struggle for existence.

Meanwhile, Master Jiao battles a terminal lung cancer diagnosis, yet he urges Tianming to persevere and keep the tradition alive for as long as he can. He frames the struggle as a duty to the ancestors and to future players who would carry the music forward. His voice, even from illness, reinforces the stubborn hope that the art will endure.

An official arrives with a bid to record Tianming and his ensemble to preserve this dying art form. The project promises broader recognition, but the group is too thin and aging to perform at peak level. The moment pressures them to decide whether they can take on a publicly documented performance.

The group is stretched thin by factory labor and personal fatigue, leaving them unable to meet the high standard required by the recording project. Tensions rise as time slips away and the music slips from its former strength. The recording process reaches a fragile stasis.

Lan Yu privately suggests that Tianming abandon life in the village and seek opportunities in the city, a path that would sever the sacred pledge he has made. The advice jars Tianming and tests his loyalty to Master Jiao's dream. The idea exposes the core dilemma between tradition and modern convenience.

Tianming remains steadfast, choosing loyalty and tradition over convenience and fashionable trends. He resolves to protect the ensemble and keep the music alive as long as his mentor's legacy endure. The commitment hardens as the world around them continues to change.

After Master Jiao dies, Tianming returns to the tomb and plays the Song of the Phoenix alone, offering a solitary tribute to the cherished legacy that once filled weddings and funerals alike. The performance is intimate, infused with the history of the ensemble and its repertoire. It marks the passing of an era and the quiet endurance of the art.

From the tomb, the solo rendition lingers as a testament to endurance and memory. The Song of the Phoenix, once reserved for the most esteemed funerals, becomes a personal vow to keep the tradition alive. The final image captures the silent, devoted commitment that outlasts the living players.