There is a bronze statue in the square of a neighboring village. It is unclear who the statue depicts due to its age. Later, a turntable was added to its base, and cameras were installed on its head and shoulders. In addition, an artificial intelligence chip was installed, allowing it to monitor everything happening in the square by rotating its body.
However, one day, the statue suddenly made strange sounds, like someone playing a flute or a pipe. The sound was intermittent, sometimes loud and sometimes soft, sometimes passionate and sometimes calm, sometimes cheerful and sometimes melancholic... And the statue would suddenly turn left or right, as if dancing.
A swallow landed on the statue's shoulder and had a conversation with it.
Swallow: Statue, what's wrong with you? I've never heard you play music before. When did you become a musician?
Statue: Look at my left chest, the area around my heart.
Swallow: Oh, why are there so many holes here?
Statue: The sound is produced when the wind blows through these holes.
Swallow: It's not strange that it can produce sound, but how do you turn it into music?
Statue: That's the AI microchip computer installed in me by humans. When the wind blows, the AI microcomputer controls the rotation of my body. The relative angle of the holes in my chest changes when the wind blows, resulting in different sounds. The AI computer analyzes and calculates, then activates the turntable under my feet to adjust the direction of my body, causing the sound to change... That's how music is created.
Swallow: Oh, I see. But where did these holes come from?
Statue: They were left by the turbulent and chaotic era of the last century. At that time, some people aimed at my heart from the opposite building and shot at me. The bullets passed through my chest, leaving these holes (Author's note: The statue is hollow, so it is easily penetrated by bullets). They did this just to practice their marksmanship, or because they were bored.
Swallow: Oh, that's so sad. No wonder your music is always so melancholic. There's a story behind it.
Statue: Is my music really sad? I also have cheerful tunes. Actually, I don't have complete control over what kind of music I can play. I have to cooperate with my good friend, the wind. My body's orientation cannot change abruptly; its movements are continuous and take time. I can't produce any tone I want. I have to predict the direction and strength of the wind, and adjust my body accordingly. In your words, I need to understand its intentions. The music I play is a result of my collaboration with the wind, part of it is my will, and part of it is going with the flow. Many times, I can only wait for the wind to come. The wind is my inspiration.
...
Since the statue started playing music, many animals in the village, such as cats, dogs, birds, and residents, liked to come to the square to listen to its performance. However, there were also some people who didn't like its mournful tunes. One young man even used mud to cover the holes on the statue's chest.
The statue became anxious and asked its good friend, the swallow, for help: "Swallow, please help me remove the mud from the holes on my chest."
The swallow pecked at the mud and asked, "Why did they cover the holes with mud?"
The statue replied, "They probably don't like my sad tunes. But I have no choice. I have seen and experienced various things in the human world, making it difficult for me to truly be happy. My good friend, the wind, resonates with me. Its experiences are broader and longer than mine. The sounds produced by the holes in my body are similar to flutes and Xiao (a Chinese musical instrument). They are most suitable for playing sad music. As a statue, I don't have much freedom of choice. If I could walk, I would have chosen to leave here and live a life of freedom. If I could choose not to be created by humans, I would never have come into this world. Many years ago, I was hit by a bullet in my chest, which caused me pain. But I didn't expect it to become a gift from heaven many years later, eventually evolving into my talent."
Swallow: But why do you have to play music? It's not your duty.
Statue: Playing music is the first thing that gave me a sense of existence and a deeper sense of value. Whether as a statue or a camera stand, I cannot be distinguished from others. However, those 23 bullet holes and the music that came from them can achieve this. Besides, it is proof of my existence. When animals and villagers come to listen to my music, I feel needed. I feel like a living being, and for the first time, my heart, full of holes, feels the warmth and happiness of the human world. And the most important thing is, once you experience the feeling of creation, you can never forget it. Even when I play some sad tunes, there is a sense of joy brought by creation in my heart. This feeling mixes with the sadness, and it is truly wonderful. As for duty, I want to say that if you only live for duty, no one will see you as a living being. You will only be seen as a machine or a part.
...
After the swallow pecked away the mud from the holes, the statue was able to play music again. But the good times didn't last long. One day, the property department of the village brought in an electric welder and sealed all the holes on the statue's body because some residents complained that the statue's music was "disturbing" and the melancholic tunes were not "positive" and did not conform to the values of a harmonious society.
From then on, the small village returned to its original tranquility, with only the sounds of dogs barking, birds chirping, chickens crowing, the rustling of leaves when the wind blew, and the mournful hum of power lines on windy days.