In the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, Tang Yingzeng, who was from Pizhou, was exceptionally skilled at playing the pipa, a traditional Chinese lute, so people called him Tang Pipa. Because his family was poor, he couldn’t afford to get married, leaving him and his mother to rely solely on each other. Tang was incredibly respectful to his mother. The place where they lived had a red-tip tree, under which Tang built two thatched cottages as their residence, taking care of his mother day and night.
Tang was deeply moved by music from a young age, often brought to tears upon hearing a song. As he grew and learned to sing, his own performances would stir such emotion within him that he couldn’t help but weep, explaining to his concerned mother that the sheer beauty of music and song filled him with a profound sense of melancholy.
During the reign of Emperor Jiajing, the pipa master Li Dongyuan was unparalleled, succeeded only by Jiang Duifeng, whose death left Jiang Shanren of Chenzhou as the sole bearer of his exquisite skills. Under the patronage of Prince Zhou, Performers in the royal court sought to master the pipa through Jiang Shanren’s teaching, but to no avail. Tang Yingzeng, however, mastered the pipa under Jiang within a year, capturing Prince Zhou’s attention. Tang’s rendition of “The Eighteen Beats of the Hu Pipa” was so poignant and moving that it earned him a precious pipa adorned with jade and ivory from Prince Zhou, along with a generous stipend to care for his mother, solidifying his reputation in the region.
Tang’s fame spread far and wide, with people from all walks of life vying for his respect and admiration. Yet, Tang remained modest and selective about his performances, never playing frivolously for others. His talents eventually led him to serve under the General of the West, Wang Chonggu, who took Tang on military campaigns to places like Jiayuguan and Jiuquan. There, Tang’s music inspired soldiers before battle, adding a stirring soundtrack to their valor.
A poignant moment came when Tang, amid a snowstorm at Yugu Pass, heard the mournful sound of a suona, an ancient wind instrument resembling a trumpet with a bamboo tube and a reed mouthpiece. The haunting melody reminded him of his distant mother, prompting him to leave the general’s side and return home. One restless night at an inn, he played his pipa, recalling the song’s sorrowful melody so profoundly that the pipa itself seemed to take on its lonely, mournful tones, leaving all who listened in tears.
Unexpectedly, Tang’s music touched the heart of a nearby widow. She sought him out the next day, offering herself in marriage. Tang agreed, but only because she would be willing to care for his mother. The widow readily consented, so Tang brought her home. His fame eventually reached King Xiang, who summoned Tang to his court, where he resided for three years. A dramatic encounter on Dongting Lake, where Tang calmed a storm with his pipa, led to a mystical encounter with a monkey, which disappeared with Tang’s beloved instrument after mourning through the night, leaving him heartbroken.
Returning home, Tang found his mother all alone, with his wife having passed away. His wife’s dying wish went unfulfilled. She longed to hear Tang play his pipa for her beneath the red-tip tree. That night, Tang took out his pipa and played a song wholeheartedly and sorrowfully at his wife’s grave, mourning her deeply. After that, Tang began to behave recklessly, indulging himself with wine and women daily. Later, when war broke out, he wandered, performing for subsistence, eventually losing his senses and becoming an outcast, with audiences insisting that he be separated from them by a screen. Only his music remained as a connection to his once illustrious life.
Tang’s pipa could evoke the grandest of narratives and the subtlest of emotions, from the tumult of battle to the delicate chirping of insects. His rendition of “The Chu-Han Contention” was particularly renowned, capturing the full spectrum of human emotion and leaving audiences profoundly moved. In his later years, Tang found refuge in Huaipu, where a sympathetic local took him and his mother to Taoyuan, marking the end of his known story.
Tang Yingzeng’s life, marked by unparalleled artistry and profound personal loss, reflects the enduring spirit of the pipa’s soulful strains, echoing through the corridors of history.
Translated by Joseph Wu
