Montreal, 1997

The Autumn leaves swirled outside Kevin Austin's window as Chih-Lin Chou, a graduate student with quiet determination, stood before him. Her hands, accustomed to the delicate strings of Guzheng, clutched a note book filled with sketches of melodies and questions.

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"Professor Austin", she began, her voice steady but eyes alight with hope, "I want to bridge worlds. The Guzheng's ancient voice and the future. Will you compose a piece for me? Guzheng and electroacoustics-together." 

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Kevin, ever the avant-garde thinker, leaned back in his chair. The hum of his analog synthesizers filled the silence. He saw in Chih-Lin not just a student, but a kindred spirit-one who revered tradition yet hungered to redefine it. "A collision of silk and circuitry", he mused. " I'll try".

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But time, like music, flowed unpredictable. Years passed. Chih-Lin graduated, diving into real life as a Guzheng performer and a piano/guzheng instructor, while Kevin's mind danced between compositions, lecturers, and experimental soundscapes. The promise lingered, unfulfilled - a ghost note in their shared history.

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2003: A Letter, a Deadline, a Reckoning

Six years later, a letter arrived on Kevin's cluttered desk.

*Dear kevin,

My Guzheng concert is in three months. Oscar Peterson Hall. Have you finished the piece you promised me? - Chih-Lin*

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He laughed, equal parts guilt and admiration. Chih-Lin had never been one to let dreams gather dust. Digging through old tapes and scribbled scores, he found the fragments of their 1997 idea - a haunting Guzheng melody layered with the pulse of modular synths, like waves meeting shore.

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For weeks, Kevin worked obsessively. He sampled the Guzheng's resonance, warping its vibrations into digital tides. Chih-Lin practiced the composition intensively to play with the sounds that created by Kevin.

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Premiere Night: Oscar Peterson Concert Hall

​The stage glowed under indigo lights. Chih-Lin sat behind her 21 strings Guzheng, Kevin sat behind the sound controlling station. Kevin's electroacoustic soundscape hummed to life - a storm of analog whispers and digital crescendos. As Chih-Lin plucked the first note, the room held its beath. The Guzheng's earthy warmth intertwined with searing electronic waves, telling the story of time: the ache of waiting, the thrill of creation, the dance between past and future.

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When the final chord faded, the audience erupted. Critics called it "a dialogue across centuries." But for Kevin and Chih-Lin, it was something simpler: a promise kept.

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