Four Generations of Luthier Heritage, Almost Unmatched in China: Starting from Xiguan, Guangzhou in 1935 In China's lutherie industry, family heritage spanning four generations is, to Liang Zhiling's knowledge, almost nonexistent. "There might be two generations, but three or four are very rare. Abroad, in Italy, Germany, and France, there are more—some lineages dating back to the 1800s. In China, even two generations are relatively uncommon." The starting point of this lineage was Xiguan, Guangzhou, in 1935. Liang Zhiling's maternal grandfather, Mr. Huang Da, established a violin workshop there. During that era, Xiguan and the Thirteen Hongs area in Guangzhou were concessions, where many British, French, and American businessmen came, bringing violins and guitars. When strings broke or glue came undone, they would bring the instruments to Huang Da's workshop for repairs. "My grandfather thought these instruments were good, so he studied them by reverse engineering. It started with repairs—while fixing them, he observed their shape, dimensions, thickness, and gradually began making them," Liang Zhiling said. "I truly admire them from that time—my ancestors seemed to know how to do it just by looking." Violinist Hao Li added context to that era: "Truly proper blueprints and scientific materials only came into China in recent decades. In the past, China had no complete violin-making system. The violin shapes we saw as children might have been drawn from newspapers; even the f-holes were sometimes made by poking holes with a needle." In 1954, Huang Da's workshop merged with seven others to form the Nanlian Musical Instrument Factory, the predecessor of the Guangdong Musical Instrument Factory (also known as the Red Cotton Factory). Liang Zhiling's parents also worked in instrument making. Liang Zhiling himself represents the third generation, and his son, Liang Zhenyu, is the fourth. "Because this craft is still arduous and demanding," Liang Zhiling said. "I know many luthiers whose parents are still making instruments, but their children have mostly switched careers or gone into other fields. It's very difficult to pass it down." Liang Zhenyu's entry into the craft was not initially driven by passion. "When I was in middle and high school, I wasn't particularly interested in anything," he recalled. "Later, I followed my father to the factory, starting with sharpening knives." Along the way, he doubted whether this path had a future—until he gained recognition in the industry. "Once you achieve a sense of accomplishment in this work, it creates a positive cycle, and you grow to love it more." "It's not an innate passion from the start," Liang Zhenyu said. "Most of the time, you gradually develop a sense of mission through the work process." From 1935 to 2026, nearly a century, four generations, the same craft. In China, this in itself is a rarity.