The Story of "High Mountains, Flowing Water": Playing the zither is easy, but finding a true connoisseur is hard.
[Source] Lie Yukou's "Liezi: Tang Wen" (Warring States period, State of Zheng).
[Explanation] This idiom is used to describe the rarity of finding a true soulmate or kindred spirit who truly understands one's art. It can also refer to a piece of music of exceptional beauty and sophistication.
[Historical Anecdote]
During the Spring and Autumn period, there was a man named Yu Boya in the State of Chu. He was highly skilled in music theory and an exceptional zither player, renowned as a master musician of his time. When Boya was young, he was bright and eager to learn. He had studied under a master musician and had already achieved a high level of technical proficiency. However, he always felt that he could not yet fully and magically express his feelings about the various phenomena of the world through his music.
When Boya's teacher learned of this, he took him by boat to Penglai Island in the East Sea, so that Boya could appreciate the scenery of nature and listen to the sound of the ocean's waves. Boya looked around and saw waves surging and splashing; seabirds flying and calling; forests and trees lush and verdant, like a fairyland. A wondrous feeling spontaneously arose within him, and it seemed as if harmonious and beautiful music from nature was playing in his ears. Unable to contain himself, he took up his zither and began to play. The music flowed with his thoughts, weaving the beauty of nature into his melodies. Boya experienced a state of artistry he had never known before, and from that moment on, his skill on the zither greatly improved. Soon, his teacher, seeing that Boya had mastered the art, allowed him to leave and travel on his own. Thus, Yu Boya began to journey far and wide.
One evening, Boya was cruising on a boat. Facing the gentle breeze and bright moon, his thoughts were vast and profound, and he felt inspired to play. He began to strum the zither, its sound melodious and gradually reaching a sublime state. Suddenly, he heard someone on the shore exclaiming in admiration. Boya looked toward the sound and saw a woodcutter standing on the bank. He was secretly astonished—how could a simple woodcutter possess such a refined appreciation for music? Boya deliberately played a melody praising lofty mountains. The woodcutter said, "Wonderful! Majestic and solemn, just like Mount Tai towering into the clouds!" Then, when Boya played a piece expressing the surging, turbulent waves, the woodcutter again said, "Marvelous! Vast and expansive, it's as if I can see the rolling streams and the boundless ocean!" Boya was thrilled beyond measure and excitedly exclaimed, "A kindred spirit! You truly are my soulmate!" The two instantly became close and intimate friends, and made a pact to meet again at this very spot on the fifteenth day of the Mid-Autumn Festival the following year.
Tragically, the next Mid-Autumn Festival, Boya's friend, Zhong Ziqi (the woodcutter), had died. Boya went to his grave to pay his respects. After playing a mournful piece, he smashed his zither to pieces, vowing never to play again for the rest of his life.