A Trip to Rolin Farm

 Rolin farm is a strawberry farm located to the north of Brisbane. Every year in the season when strawberries are ripe, it will open to visitors for them to pick their own strawberries from the farm.

A few days ago, my wife told me that the strawberries in the supermarket are very cheap, which indicated that the arrival of peak season. Then yesterday, I made a phone call to the farm to get more information. The staff on the phone told me that it was available on Saturday (today) to pick strawberries on the farm but booking in advance was essential due to Covid. I then made a booking on the phone. As the time slots in the morning had been fully booked, I finally confirmed with them that we (including my mother and my sister), four adults and one toddler, would come to the farm at three o’clock in the afternoon.

Today is a sunny and warm day. The spring of Brisbane seems to have come. Ivan started to sleep at around eleven o’clock, and he became awake about one hour later, though he usually sleeps for a bit more than two hours at noon. Fortunately, he slept for half an hour on the way to the farm. Otherwise, he would be too tired.

We arrived at the farm a few minutes before 3 pm.  Next to the car park was a little cottage. Inside the cottage was a reception counter with a couple of staff, who handled the registrations. The cottage also sold some products such as strawberries, orchids, honey, ice-creams and so on. I entered the cottage and told them I had booked the one-hour time slot starting at 3 pm. The staff at the reception then gave me a few punnets. Each punnet for a person. It was said that the punnet for an adult could contain around 500 grams of strawberries, and cost $8. There was also a small punnet for our kid, which could contain 250 grams.

Outside the cottage were some chairs, tables, a children’s playground and a big strawberry statue. A big strawberry field was located on the other side of the road. We first took some photos with the strawberry statue and then went across the road to the strawberry field. The sky was so blue today with few clouds. The sun shined on the green farm as if the ground was brushed with a level of golden oil. The strawberries, as red as rubies, inlaid within the green leaves. The larger ones were as big as a half palm and usually with irregular shapes, whereas the smaller ones were in heart shape. They emitted a type of fragrance, which was the scent of flesh and ripe strawberries. We tried our best to pick the larger strawberries and only consider smaller ones to fill the holes in the punnets. Before 4 pm, all of our punnets were full.

When the sun began to fall to the west, we left the farm and drove back home. As soon as we arrived home, we cleaned the strawberries and ate them. They were super sweet. There were quite a number of strawberries becoming soft due to the squeezing, but I felt that the softer ones tasted better and sweeter. They were not like the strawberries bought from supermarkets, which were usually a bit sourer, less red and harder. My wife said the strawberries picked from the farm dissolved in the month immediately when biting them. Ivan also had three, which was quite a lot for his little stomach.

 

Playing Classical Guitar

I started playing classical guitar at the age of 29. Now several years have passed and I made little progress. I gave up for quite a long time as it was said that one would required to grow long nails and shape them well to pay with modern techniques. This is very inconvenient in life. However, recently I went through the websites and found that there were people playing well without nails. Then I restarted my journey with it.

I registered in some well-known forums and purchased an online course from Udemy. I found that I made a mistake in right hand fingers. In my practice, I always used the ring finger for the first string, the middle finger for the second string, the index finger for the third string, and the thumb for the three bass strings. But I recently realised that I should alternate my fingers while playing. I started to unlearned the bad habit and practiced by using i-m or m-a alternation.

I find I play too many musical instruments, including concert flute, Dizi, Xiao and classical guitar. I had to made a decision to play just some of them.I think I will just practice concert flute and classical guitar, given the wide range of music these instruments provide. Dizi and Xiao are nice instruments with a Chinese music focus and they had a much longer history. However, the pitch range is quite limited making me hard to play many western style music.

 

The Stories of raising a child

 Many years ago when I was still young, I had longed for a child. However, as I got married late, the waiting time for the wish to come true was much longer than what I could expect in those early years. When I was in my early twenties, I only felt a little jealous for my friends who got married early and had children, whereas my mind had been no rest since I was over thirty years old. Envy rose in my heart when I knew that almost all friends that grew up along with me had become parents. Some of them shared with me the experience of how a child had changed their lives. I was sensitive when a friend in a WeChat group said, “At the time when I cuddled my newborn daughter, I felt the whole world had become different. “

I was so curious to know how the world could be different, that when my son Ivan was born I cuddled him with my hands. At that moment I was very delighted as my wish for many years had come true. That day I had been 35 years old. My wife had some infection during labour, and she stayed in the hospital for a few days with the baby. I drove to the hospital every day in the morning and came home late at night. I had never been that weary in my life before. This was especially true when I was told that the baby’s jaundice was above a certain level and blue light treatment was required. The midwives helped the baby to wear glasses to prevent the eyes from being damaged by the blue lights and put the baby into a box where blue lights were turned on. My heart was heavy when I saw the baby lying in the box and tried all his best to get rid of the glasses. Fortunately, this only lasted for a day and a night. At length, a midwife notified us that my wife and the baby could go home. I sighed and thought the hardest time had been over, but in fact, new challenges had just begun! As soon as we left the building of the hospital, we found that the baby was too small to be able to settle on the car-seat. It was fortunate that there were a few taxies parking on the street. We waved for a taxi driver and then my wife, the baby and my mother took the taxi home and I drove home alone.

 

Ivan had made me no sleep since then. He seemed haven’t developed the concept of the day and the night. He was awake frequently at night, requiring someone to cuddle him, or even to sing to him. Breastfeeding was another challenge, as it took quite a time for the baby to develop the skills to suck milk. Despite weary, it was a very pleasant experience to see the little one grew up day by day. For the first few days at home, there were nurses coming to my home to have injections for my wife, and there were also some visiting home nurses for the baby. The GP (general practitioner) phoned us to have an early checkup for the baby. “He still has jaundice.” The doctor said, “It is better to have a blood test for the bilirubin level.” My heart became heavy, recalling the memory when the baby was at the hospital and had the blue light treatment. We then went to the pathology centre. A nurse cut a small wound on the baby’s heel and squeezed blood to a small tube. Ivan cried terribly, making my heart almost broken.

 

In the following day, we were told that the bilirubin level was within the normal range and no treatment was required. However, the baby’s skin was still yellow. We were suggested to let the baby have another blood test some weeks later, and this time the bilirubin level was still within the normal range. “Maybe it was not jaundice. ” I said to my wife. “If not, why he is that yellow and dark?” My wife said. Then I said some people in our two families were also with dark skins, attempting to conclude that Ivan’s skin was congenitally dark too.

 

We lived in Indooroopilly when the baby was born. The unit that we lived in had a very old and dirty carpet on the floor. As Ivan grew up, sooner or later he would crawl on the ground. In addition, there was no air-conditioning in our bedroom, and the baby would be too hot when the summer came. Considering these, we decided to move back to the house that I purchased in a northern suburb. Then in August when Ivan was over two months old, we moved home to the house. This was an old wooden house built in the 1950s. The house itself was small but the land was over six hundred square meters, which required much gardening work. There was a space that my mother could plant vegetables and melons there. There was a swimming pool at the back of the house, but the machines such as the filter had been broken. Not far away from the house was a primary school where Ivan could go for when he grew up. Next to the school was a big park, where we regularly took Ivan there in the late afternoon.

Ivan grew up day by day. He gained weight quickly. The yellow and dark colour in his skin had gradually eliminated, resulting in very fair skin. His cheek was so smooth that whenever I saw it I would have a desire to kiss it. Raising a child at this stage had its challenge compared to when he was born. He had no longer been satisfied by being cuddled and required someone to cuddle him and walk around. Breastfeeding had no longer been enough to provide all the nutrition he needed, and thus we began to give him some other food. I was impressed by the first time that we gave him rice cereal. He seemed not willing to eat and was hard to swallow. But after some attempts, he began to show signs that he liked what we gave him to eat. From the time he was born, Ivan weed and pooed normally. He pooed every day. However, as long as he started to eat food, he pooed every several days. There was a time that he hadn’t pooed for five days. We worried about that before he made a big poo on the nappy. When we saw the poo, we were as happy as we found some golds on the ground.

Now Ivan has been six months old. He has begun to crawl on the ground. We had a mat with colourful pictures, which we placed on the ground of the living room with some toys for him play. Recently we bought a baby playpen to surround the mat. We called this region the rainbow village, and this was Ivan’s little world. Originally I worried he might not like to be in the playpen as it restricted his space of activity, but my worry was nonsense. He liked to be inside it. We couldn’t use an adult’s psychology to view a child’s interest.

I have never thought the world became different when I cuddle Ivan, who is my little son. However, my life has been dramatically changed because of him.

The Footsteps of A Programmer

 More than ten years ago, when I was still an undergraduate student in Xi’an, I did believe I would have a glorious future, given that I was a high-performed student at a university that was famous for its research and education in electronics and telecommunications. My plan was to find a technical job in telecommunications industries after the course so that I could earn a few years of experience in China and then migrated to Australia via skill immigration. This goal was very realistic at that moment as I did not target high salaries and my concern was merely the experience. I could still remember that, on that afternoon in November of 2007, in Tangcheng Hotel, how I signed the agreement with an HR representative. I expressed my sincere thanks to her. “No,” she said, “you shouldn’t thank me. If you could work hard in future in this job, I will be very satisfied.” I could not understand what she said until it was too late. I worked in Shenzhen for a few weeks and then quit the job. Later I applied to study in Australia. My parents sold an apartment and used the money as my tuition fee. But the budget was very stressed.

I arrived in Australia at the end of the year 2008, just a few days before Christmas. I lived together with my grandmother in a house that was quite close to the train station so that I could catch the train to school.

After waiting for a couple of months, my first semester was started. My course, which focused on software development, has only one compulsory unit, IT Project Management, and all the other units are selective. The level of difficulty for a master coursework degree in Australia was somewhat close to that of an undergraduate degree in China. In fact, we had lectures and tutorials together with undergraduate students. Only the assessments were different. However, it was not too easy for me, as in my undergraduate course I was only taught low-level C and assembly languages that were related to software development. Higher-level things such as Java, C#, Javascript, design patterns, databases, operating systems and web services were all brand new to me.

For the first semester, after very careful consideration, I chose four units, and they were Data Structure and Algorithms, Database Design, Software Development and Internet Protocols and Services. Then I devoted almost all the time available to study. I got up very early in the morning and came home very late at night. I had a part-time job in the shopping centre near my home, and I worked there as a kitchen hand for around ten hours per week. Life was not easy in all aspects. The language was a challenge but not the greatest one. Many days and nights, I was thinking about whether it was worth to spend that much to come to Australia for a degree that was not really more competitive than a normal Master degree in China. I was not sure when I could earn back the tuition fee that I spent. I was not sure whether I could stay in Australia due to the uncertainty of the immigration policy. I still remember how happy I was when I knew I was awarded a Group B scholarship for my performance in the first semester. However, this scholarship, with around $3500, compared to the more than $10000 tuition fee per semester, was still too small.

In the second semester, I chose two coursework units and a research project. One of the units was System Programming, which covered the fundamentals in operating systems. I learned this unit quite well, and some years later, I became a tutor for it. The other coursework unit was Enterprise Software Architecture, which was very important for my current professional development. It taught component software and Service-Oriented Architecture (SOA). Besides these two units, I undertook a research project in a team whose research focus was environmental sensing. The knowledge gained in this project was embedded software development based on Windows CE.

Then the three-month summer holiday came, and many international students went back to their home countries. However, an air-ticket at that time was too expensive for me. I decided to stay in Brisbane, to get more hours in my part-time job. Meanwhile, I also enrolled in a summer course. It was a project unit in the Business Process Management (BPM) group. My supervisor for this project was the lecturer who taught me service-oriented architecture (SOA). At the beginning of the project, he explained to me that what BPM was. “We focus on process-centric services.” He said. The term “Process-centric services” was a terminology in SOA. My task was to implement the process configuration functionality in YAWL, termed C-YAWL. YAWL was an open-source process automation system built on top of JGraph, a Java-based graph library.  I worked very hard and finished the project earlier than the due date. Then I was invited to join a paper to implement an algorithm of process verification and integrated the algorithm into  C-YAWL so that the correctness of a process after configuration could be ensured. When I finished the project, a new semester began. This was the first semester of 2010.

The immigration policy in Australia was said to have a major change in that year. My heart was heavy when I heard the news. It was said that it would be much harder to apply skill immigration and the waiting time was much longer than before. I was not sure what my future would be if I could not stay in Australia. I even began to regret not doing a postgraduate degree in China.

In the past year, some professors and lecturers at QUT told me that they thought I was suitable for a research degree. Then I began to apply for PhD scholarship. Although my first attempt was a failed one, the professor, however, did show some interest in my application. He wrote an email to ask me to come to his office. “I hope you to accept some training in our lab.” he said, “If you could demonstrate that you were able to make contributions to our lab, there were plenty of scholarship opportunities. “

Then in the new semester of 2010, I chose a unit called Advanced Signal Processing Systems, which covered signal processing including image processing. In addition, I undertook a project about object-tracking using the Meanshit algorithm in two PTZ cameras in the lab. From then on, my focus had switched to a subject called computer vision, which was a subdomain in Artificial Intelligence (AI). Besides that, I also enrolled in two more units. One was the compulsory unit IT Project Management. I asked the course coordinator why this was the only compulsory unit. He said, “The university expects that Master degree students were the managers in the society. This is why you have to learn management skills. ” The other one was AI for Computer Games. This unit covered games agent programming.

A few months later, I applied for an early exit from my master course. Then I became a researcher in machine learning for about nine years, with its application first to computer vision, then to process mining, and then to Wi-Fi sensing. I did need to write computer programs, but the focus had never been in software development.

There were many times I thought my Master degree was not only expensive but also useless. It costed more than an apartment in China but did not directly relate to my research and immigration.

However, after returning to Australia from China in the year 2019, I switched my career from a researcher to a software developer and practised what I learned from my master degree every day.

I am not a competent programmer, though I have much experience in coding. The knowledge structure that I learned from my Master degree course is not perfect. First, I didn’t choose any subject about the web application. Fortunately, I learned the techniques from my job. Second, my knowledge in automata and formal languages is still very limited, making me hard to understand techniques such as compiler principles and computational complexity. Fortunately in the age of the internet, I can learn it through some MOOC course. However, when I had a time that was free from coding and debugging, I often thought of the years of research.

Glorious Youth

Time passes quickly. It has been more than a year since I came back to Brisbane, Australia. I started up a new career. I got married and soon after that my wife became pregnant. The stories in Shenzhen were as if they had just happened yesterday, while my life has been permanently reshaped.

In the twilight of an evening, holding my wife’s hand, I walked around near the church in the neighbourhood where we lived. I said to my wife, “How pitiful that we have been old, stepping into the so-called middle-age stage!” She didn’t agree with me and resorted, “No, we are still young.” I didn’t want to argue with her, as I clearly knew the truth though sometimes the reality was hard for people to accept. The glorious youth has been passed, leaving only recollections that I can recall. I want to write down the stories of my youth when I still can before I forget much of the details.

I was born as the third child in my family in the mid-1980s in the countryside of the pearl river delta in China. I don’t have that much impression on the village that I was born as my family had moved to the urban area since I was four years old. My parents operated a convenience store in the neighbourhood that I lived in. I was always such an obedient child that, when I was at primary school, I had begun to help my parents to deliver bags of rice to customers. There were many times that I carried a bag of rice as heavy as thirty kilograms on one side of the shoulder and followed the customer to their home to earn the delivery fee. At school, I was timid and maybe, for this reason, I was often bullied by other students. There were many times I went to my wife’s home to play with her brother and my wife said to me that she often teased me when we were children though I had forgotten much of that.

Not far from my home was a junior secondary school, where I became a student when I was thirteen years old. Life for those years was peaceful and delighted. Soon after I started high school, I became addicted to playing basketball although I was always not good at it. When there were no available basketball fields on the campus, I and a group of teenagers rode bicycles to find basketball fields around the city, which has become one of my most precious memory in life. During these years, I was a very excellent student, well in all subjects and especially good at chemistry. I had a nickname, which was “Big New”.

Three years later I started another three years of senior high school, and the campus was far away from home so that I had to ride a bicycle to school, six times a day, every day. This was the best school in the city, but I did not have much positive experience due to the massive amount of homework that hardly made me breathe. I found it hard to catch up with others in my class. I was anxious for examinations and often had diarrhea during an exam. In order to enter an elite university with relevant low scores in the college entrance exams, I had to choose universities far away from home. At length, I got an offer from a university in Xi’an, which was a city with a very long history in the northwestern part of China.

At that time, high-speed railways hadn’t been developed in China, and air-tickets were too expensive for most families to pay. The most popular approach to go to university was by normal trains with green carriages. I typically needed to spend two days on the trip, two hours from home to Guangzhou railway station followed by about thirty hours on the train.

For my first trip to Xi’an, I went there together with my parents. There were crowds of people in the carriage, and we were fortunate to have seats. Many people did not have seats, standing there for a day or more. At night there were people sleeping under our seats. The toilet was not far away but there was a long queue for it.

We got on the train at noon. The train slowly left Guangzhou and then sped up. A few hours later it entered a mountainous area at the border between Guangdong and Hunan provinces. After running for a night in Hunan province, the train arrived in Hubei province in the morning. Then somebody cried out, “Ah, Yangtze river! That is the yellow crane tower!” I then suddenly thought of the poem written by Cui Hao in Tang dynasty with the title “Yellow Crane Tower”, which expressed a melancholy feeling for being far away from my hometown. The train then entered the northern China plain and travelled there for a few hours before it turned west at Zhengzhou station where we could buy chicken legs to eat. Then we saw large mountains out of the window again. After some time, some people spoke out loudly, “Look! This is the Hua mountain.” Then we saw a very high and steep mountain from the window, and there were no such high mountains in my hometown.

As the night was drawing near, the view outside the window became darker and darker. At length, we arrived in Xi’an at around eight to nine o’clock at night. We were grateful that a friend who was from the neighbourhood we lived in and studied in Xi’an one year ago came to pick us up. After dinner, we found a hotel near the train station and stayed there overnight. Next morning, we took a taxi to the campus. The campus was located in the countryside of the city and there was quite a distance from downtown. At that time, the campus was still under construction, and we could see only a few buildings for teaching and student accommodation.

I was nineteen years old when I started university in October of 2004. Life was not that easy at the beginning. I had to adapt to a different climate, a different language, and a different cuisine style. However, the biggest challenge I encountered was the cold weather in winter. Winter in my hometown is as warm as that in Brisbane but much wetter. However, in Xi’an, which is a city in the northwestern part of China, it is extremely cold in winter as the temperature is almost always below zero celsius degrees. The heat supply system for the dormitories on the campus hadn’t been fully constructed yet when we moved in, making me sick frequently. However, when the springs came, there was another scenery. As almost all leaves on the tree had fallen down in the winter, all leaves on the trees in spring are new and pure green. Flowers were blooming, making the city nice. But I seldom went to the city as the campus was in the countryside that was far away from the city. There were even no public buses that could reach the campus, and we normally hailed the minibus on the street to the city. Summer was always my most favourite season, although it was very hot, even a little hotter than that in Brisbane or in Guangdong. Especially in the first year of university, there were not that many buildings on campus to block the view, and thus we could still see the splendid view of the Qinling mountain to the south side of the city.

The four years of university life was full and happy. My course was telecommunications engineering, and there were many challenging subjects in the course. I remember that I studied very hard at university. We normally had classes from dawn until dark, and I often chose to study by myself in the lecture rooms in the evening and returned back to the dormitory late at night. In the first year, my academic performance was not that well, and some of my classmates said, “Little New studies all day but his method seems not hat effective”. “Little New” was my nickname at university, and almost everybody called me like that. But from the second year on, I have had rapid progress and was awarded a scholarship every year. During my spare time, I played with my classmates. As all students lived in university dormitories, we had many ways of entertainments. There were eight students living in a unit, which consisted of two bedrooms, a living room and two bathrooms. We talked and laughed in the dormitory, watching television programs together, and occasionally played basketball outside. At night, when lying in beds, we typically had long chats before going to sleep. During the weekend, I often went to Guodu Town nearby or the city with my roommates.

There were many interesting things happened during the four years. There was one winter day that I hang some clothes on the balcony. A little sparrow flew in and sat on my briefs. At first, I didn’t notice that and got the clothes back to the bedroom. Then suddenly the bird flew out of the briefs. I was terrified. “Oh, catch it!” Other boys in the dormitory were excited and wanted to clutch the little bird. The sparrow then jumped to my pillow, pooped there before flying out from the door of the balcony.

I also had done something naughty. There was a time that I often begged one of my roommates to ring the telephone in the dormitory opposite to ours at night to disturb them. A boy in that dormitory often got up to answer the phone. But as long as he touched the phone, my roommate hanged up the call. “Fuck!” He who answered the phone said angrily. The next day, boys from that dormitory complaint that somebody often rang their phone at night, making them hard to sleep well. Then I felt a bit guilty of it. They didn’t know this was done by one of their best friends. Many years later when we all been matured, I told the one who lived in that dormitory and often picked up the phone the truth, preparing him to curse me, but he seemed very peaceful when he knew this.

How happy those days of glorious youth are! But life is not always that delighted. After three years, a roommate of mine was selected on a student exchange program and was going to France for postgraduate studies. Before he left China, the boys in my dormitory had a farewell dinner with him in the Guodu town after examinations. During the dinner, one of them said to me, “Little New, you are such a simple-minded man that I am afraid that you will be deceived by others in future. As you know, not everyone is as nice as we are in society.” Other boys nodded their heads to show that they agree with what he said. Several months later, I met the recruitment team of ZTE company and was deceived by them, which was exactly as what my roommate said. Because of this, my family later made a decision to send me to Australia for further study.

As I have said that, summer was always my favourite season. The summer in 2008 was also a sentimental season. We left the campus in July. On the day before we left, I packed the luggage in the dormitory, with a feeling of unwilling to leave. One friend came to my dormitory, and he seemed to have known what I was thinking in mind. He pressed my shoulder on one hand and said, “There must be one day in future when we will gather again!” I was much comforted. But a boy who also from Guangdong province gave a supplement in the sentence, and said, “As long as we are still in China!”

A Day Trip to Toowoomba

 Yesterday my wife and I had a travel to Toowoomba to see the 70th Carnival of Flowers. This is my second time to Toowoomba, but for my wife, it is her first time. We got up early in the morning. Then we drove to Sunnybank. After parking our vehicle, we hurried to a McDonald where we gathered there for departure. We got on to the bus at around 8 o’clock in the morning, and then the driver drove us to Toowoomba.

We first arrived in the Japanese Garden near the University of Southern Queensland. There we saw a big bird, which pronounced as “ti-hu” in mandarin. As we arrived quite early, there were no that many people in the garden. My wife said the environment was beautiful as if standing in a garden in Japan. We also saw the sakura flowers, which I mistakenly thought were peach blossoms.

After visiting the Japanese Garden, we went to the picnic point. We had a lunch in the Picnic Point Restaurant. We were not that adapted to the food that we ordered. However, we purchased ice-creams which were quite delicious. The picnic point is on top of a mountain, where we can view a larger space surrounding the city.

Then we went to the Laurel Bank Park, where we saw a big flower bed looked like a cake cutting a piece by a knife. Due to the special design, many people liked to take photos there.

The last garden we visited were the Queen Park. This is the largest park of the three that we visited, as it was just next to the botanic garden. There was a playground inside the garden. We wanted to see the flower parade, but we did not have enough time. It was crowded with people.

A flute teacher

My parents and I went to the High-Tech ParkCultural Plaza for a walk after lunch last Friday evening. My mother and I were wandering around the plaza, while my father picked up a Dizi and played it for fun. After a while, my father stopped playing. Next to him stood a man, playingDizi as well. How beautiful the sounds he produced! It was as if a bird swinging jauntily on a tree. Many pedestrians passing by were attracted to the sounds. They stopped and listened to it. Some of them even use mobile phones to record the videos.

“Are you a professional performer?”I asked.  “I was but now have been retired.” He said. We then have a short conversation, from which I knew that he was once a professionalDizi performer, having taught Dizi for more than twenty years. He could master several musical instruments that linked to the mouth, such as Dizi, Xiao, Hulusi, and harmonica. I then told him that I played Xiao in ordinary days. I said that I would bring my Xiao here on Monday and would like to consult him a few questions regarding playing Xiao. He agreed pleasantly.

We met him at the same time on Monday as expected. I picked up my Xiao and played the main theme of the musical composition Spring, River, Flowers, Moon and Night. He said I played quite well. I then told him that my Xiao seemed sounding incorrect, as I used a software-based tuner to check the sound and the pitch seemed a little lower than the standard. He then picked up my Xiao and played for a while. He said, “This Xiao is Okay. The problem is that you blow it not strong enough. ” While he was blowing the xiao, I used my mobile to measure, and this time the sound matched the standard well. He then taught me to practice prolonged sounds. Then he asked me for whether I knew DAYIN, CHANYIN, and HUAYIN. I said I didn’t. He then suggested me to find a book and practised that one by one. He demonstrated to me for what DAYIN was by playing a passage in the musical composition A VISIT TO SUZHOU. Finally, he said I should have a book and if there were any questions from the book, he would be happy to explain.