ARTICLE 21: THE TRAGIC MELODY OF MUSIC AND THE SECRET OF DAO CẦM. The Symphony of Heavenly Dao.

PREFACE.

Great sound is soundless. Great Dao is wordless. Great Virtue is selfless. Dao Cầm is melodiless. Only those with affinity can hear.

Someone asked: “When did the first sound of music of humanity arise?” I remained silent. I raised my head and looked toward the North. There, the Big Dipper still quietly hangs in the sky from the dawn of time. No star added. No star missing.

A very long time later, I softly said: “The first sound of the zither… did not begin from the strings. Nor did it begin from the hands. It began from a moment of silence.”

That silence existed before the wind, before the clouds, before the light, before time itself. When heaven was not yet called heaven, earth was not yet called earth, the stars had not yet been positioned, and yin-yang had not yet been named. In that boundless realm of profound stillness, there was only one invisible rhythm of operation, neither born nor perishing.

No one played that rhythm. No one heard it. No one named it. Yet it was precisely that soundless rhythm that caused the galaxies to move, the sun and moon to cycle, the four seasons to alternate, and all things to arise and fade. That is the Music of Heaven. The wordless symphony of Creation.

From the Music of Heaven arose the laws of sound. From the laws of sound arose Heaven and Earth. From Heaven and Earth arose all things. Only much later… did humans appear.

Humans learned the songs of birds to create odes, learned the sounds of streams to create melodies, learned the sounds of wind to create music, and then thought they had created music themselves. Little did they know that all human melodies are merely small echoes of the symphony that has resounded since before the sun existed.

Therefore, one who knows how to play the zither does not necessarily know music. One who knows music does not necessarily know the Dao. Only one who can hear the silence between two notes… can touch the gate of Heavenly Sound.

This article is not about art. Nor is it a discussion of musical laws. It only follows the very ancient footprints of Dao Cầm – footprints so old that history no longer remembers them, and mythology only retains a faint shadow.

Seeking Dao Cầm is in fact seeking the primordial voice of Heavenly Dao. Seeking the first Fulcrum of the universe. Seeking the silence that gave birth to all sounds. It is also seeking one’s true self – before the mind still held the notion called “I.”

Dear readers, please do not read hastily with your eyes. Read with stillness. Do not listen with your ears. Listen with the emptiness between one breath.

If you have the affinity, perhaps when you close the final page, you will no longer hear the sound of Dao Cầm. Because at that moment, your own heart will have become a Dao Cầm.

FIRST MOVEMENT: SOUNDLESSNESS.

There are sounds that cannot be heard with the ears. There are pieces of music that only appear in stillness.

At that time… there was no day, no night. No East for the sun to rise, no West for the sun to set. No time. No space. No above or below. No birth or death.

In that infinity, there was no chaos as humans imagine. There was only a stillness so profound that even the word “still” had not yet received a name.

It was precisely within that soundless realm that there was a rhythm. So light it did not stir a single speck of dust. So deep it embraced the entire void. So even that billions of years later, every star still follows it.

That was not the sound of a zither. That was the Dao resonating by itself.

The Dao does not speak, yet all things hear. The Dao does not sing, yet the sun and moon harmonize. The Dao does not command, yet the four seasons have never missed their appointment.

A very gentle vibration. The rhythm gave birth to laws. Laws gave birth to numbers. Numbers gave birth to forms. Forms gave birth to images. Images gave birth to energy. Energy gave birth to the stars.

Then… very much later… humans were born. Humans arrived last, yet thought they were the center of the universe.

From that silence, Dao Cầm was born. Not to produce sound, but to remind humans that they once belonged to that silence.

Each string of the zither does not connect to the soundboard, but to a layer of heaven. Each pluck does not touch the air, but touches the very distant memory of life.

People think they are listening to the sound of the zither. In reality, they are listening to themselves – from before they were born.

SECOND MOVEMENT: DAO TRÌ.

Trees do not know how to speak. But wood knows how to remember.

If there is a place where the wind carries no dust of the mortal world, water is untainted by mud, and clouds carry no rain or storm, then that place is Dao Trì – the Jade Lake on Mount Kunlun.

Dao Trì does not lie in the East or the West, nor does it belong to the distances of the human world. It is a sacred realm of the immortal world, a symbol of absolute purity and eternal life. Here there are clear jade springs, the Garden of Peaches of Immortality that ripens once every three thousand years, and landscapes without a single speck of mortal dust. Dao Trì only appears to souls that still retain their original clarity, untouched by the dust of life. One does not reach Dao Trì by mortal footsteps, but by sinking deeply into the heart.

In the midst of Dao Trì, where the Queen Mother of the West – Dao Trì Kim Mẫu – reigns, stands an ancient Red Pine tree. She is the supreme goddess of the Western Immortal Realm, symbolizing gentle nurturing Yin and enduring power. The tree is so ancient that no one remembers when it first grew. Its trunk is neither towering to the sky nor lush with display, yet it emanates a profound, eternal tranquility that even the Immortals must respect.

Every thousand years, the trunk thickens by only one ring. Not because it grows slowly, but because it is listening. It listens to the turning rhythm of the Big Dipper – the stellar homeland of humanity, listens to the breath of Heaven and Earth, listens to the most subtle vibrations of Heavenly Dao.

Each ring of wood does not record the tree’s age, but records a cycle of the universe. Each grain of wood is an invisible channel that preserves the memories of the stars, of winds and clouds, of the primordial silence before heaven and earth took form.

No one dared to cut the tree. Not out of fear of the Queen Mother of the West’s authority, but out of deep reverence. Anything that carries Heavenly Dao within itself does not belong to anyone’s possession – whether Immortal or God. The Queen Mother of the West is only its guardian, not its owner.

Once, an Immortal asked: “Why not use the Red Pine to make more zithers?” The Queen Mother of the West smiled without answering. She only gently touched the trunk of the tree. In that instant, all of Dao Trì fell into absolute silence. No sound of flowing water, no birdsong, no whispering wind. Only one very gentle rhythm remained – the rhythm that had existed before heaven and earth took form.

At that moment, all the Immortals silently bowed their heads. They understood: Dao Cầm is not precious because of the valuable wood, but because that wood still retains the first breath of the Dao.

The Creator only took a very small section from the trunk. Not out of stinginess, but because one section was already enough to contain the entire sky. Just as a drop of dew can reflect the full moon, a single seed can carry an entire green forest.

That sacred Red Pine wood was no longer material in the mortal sense. It became a living environment, a living memory of the universe. Each grain of wood was like an invisible string connecting the human world to the Immortal Realm; each annual ring was a door leading back to the primordial rhythm of the Big Dipper and the Hồng Bàng origin.

From that sacred piece of wood, Dao Cầm was born.

Not to beautify life, not to satisfy romantic pleasures, but for one purpose only: To bring the Music of Heaven closer to the human heart.

THIRD MOVEMENT: THE BIG DIPPER.

Stars do not shine. Stars are singing.

The Big Dipper is not only the constellation that has guided sailors and travelers for ages.

According to the transmission within the Mission of Đức Di Lạc that Teacher Phương has revealed, the Big Dipper is the ancient homeland of humanity. It is the origin of life, the stellar ancestral home of the descendants of Hồng Bàng. From that far northern place, the first seeds of souls flew to the earthly realm, carrying the primordial rhythm of the universe.

The seven stars quietly hang in the extreme north, not competing in brightness with the sun and moon, nor showing off with the galaxy. They do not merely shine – they are singing.

In the Tiêu – Dao – Du system of the Big Dipper: One star emits a call – becoming Tiêu Khúc, opening countless movements. One star responds – becoming Dao Cầm, harmonizing the flow of creation. The silence between the two stars – that is Du, the Central Harmony, the Supreme Fulcrum to which all things return.

From that rhythm, all things know how to move, stars know how to cycle, the four seasons know how to alternate, and all species know birth and death.

The Creator listened for a very long time. He was not hasty. He allowed each rhythm of the Big Dipper – the ancient homeland of humanity – to deeply permeate every fiber of the Red Pine wood on Dao Trì. Each stellar rhythm was a stream of ancestral memory; each vibration was a reminder of the origin.

Only when the wood had completely merged with Heavenly Sound did the Creator place his hand. He did not create. He only received.

One night, the seven stars of the Big Dipper simultaneously shone down upon Dao Trì. The pure light carried no mortal dust, only the call from the distant homeland.

When dawn just broke, beside the Red Pine appeared a zither. Simple as a branch freshly cut from the forest, without carved patterns or inlaid jade and pearls.

But when the Creator gently touched the strings, the fourth-dimensional space trembled softly. No sound rang out in the human world, yet the entire Big Dipper… smiled.

At that moment, Dao Cầm was no longer merely a musical instrument. It was the string connecting the human world to the stellar homeland. It was the echo from the Hồng Bàng origin. It was the reminder that no matter how far one travels, humans still carry within themselves the rhythm of the Big Dipper.

FOURTH MOVEMENT: TRUE APPRECIATOR.

One who understands the sound of the zither does not necessarily understand the silence.

Bó Ya and Zi Qi were rare true appreciators in human history.

It is said that when Bó Ya played the zither by the river, Zi Qi listened and immediately said: “The sound of the zither soars high like Mount Tai.” Bó Ya switched to another piece, and Zi Qi praised: “The sound of the zither is vast like the Yangtze River.” He heard mountains and knew great aspiration, heard water and knew deep heart. One sound of the zither, one glance – two souls found each other among millions.

That was the most beautiful and precious encounter between two human souls – true appreciation and true friendship. Bó Ya played for Zi Qi, Zi Qi listened for Bó Ya. When Zi Qi passed away, Bó Ya, in grief, broke his zither and swore that no one else in the world was worthy for him to play for again. That story has become an immortal symbol of profound empathy between humans.

But before Dao Cầm, that true appreciation still has a very large gap.

Zi Qi listened with the human heart – with emotion, with imagination, with the vibrations of flesh and blood. He understood Bó Ya’s aspirations, feelings, joys and sorrows. That was the true appreciation of Human Music.

Dao Cầm, however, sounds according to the laws of heaven and earth – with the primordial frequency of the Big Dipper, with the soundless rhythm of Heavenly Dao. It does not tell human stories, has no sorrow, no resentment, no heroism. It only quietly operates according to the laws of Heaven and Earth.

One side is the overflowing emotions of the human world. The other side is the absolute stillness of the Immortal Realm.

An Immortal asked the Creator: “How many true appreciators of Dao Cầm are there in heaven?” The Creator did not answer. He only gently looked toward Tiêu Sương – the legendary Divine Horse that once traveled with King Mu of Zhou to Dao Trì.

The Divine Horse was lowering its head by the stream, quietly chewing a handful of grass and drinking each sip of clear water. It did not compete, was not hasty, and did not wait for praise. It simply lived according to its true nature, in accordance with Heavenly Dao.

The Creator smiled and said softly: “Watch.”

Tiêu Sương had never learned the zither, nor known music. But it knew how to lower its head before flowing water, knew gratitude for young grass, knew when to stop while the grass was still green, knew when to run when heaven and earth called. Every step it took harmonized with the rhythm of the Big Dipper.

When the Immortals used divine powers, magic, and authority to subdue it, Tiêu Sương still neighed loudly to the sky, refusing to submit. Only when it met a sincere, desireless heart – with just a bucket of water and a handful of grass – did the Divine Horse willingly bow its head.

A being that lives according to the Dao is already a complete piece of music. Without needing strings, without needing fingers, without needing human appreciation.

Bó Ya and Zi Qi were true appreciators of each other – noble in the human realm. But Tiêu Sương is the true appreciator of Dao Cầm – because it did not listen with the ears, but with Virtue.

FIFTH MOVEMENT: GUANGLING.

The final melody of humans. Still not the Music of Heaven.

Guangling Tan is the pinnacle of human music. A melody of moral integrity, of a scholar who dared to take death to preserve his character.

Each note carries indignation, each phrase is steeped in the grievances of the human world. It moves people’s hearts and awakens conscience.

But Dao Cầm does not tell human stories. It has no sorrow. No heroism. No resentment.

It only quietly raises the operating rhythm of Heaven and Earth.

Guangling makes people shed tears. Dao Cầm makes people forget themselves.

One piece of music entered history. One piece of music merged into eternity.

Guangling Tan is the pinnacle of human music, the final cry of a principled scholar. It was born from blood and tears, from thousands of years of grievances, from the spirit of a person who dared to take death to preserve character before tyrannical power. Each note is an accusation, each pluck is a sky-high indignation. It moves people’s hearts, awakens conscience, makes listeners shed tears, and makes history remember. Guangling Tan belongs to the human world – full of emotion, full of resentment, full of the desire to change people’s hearts and confront injustice.

Dao Cầm is completely different.

Dao Cầm does not tell human stories. It has no sorrow, no heroism, no resentment, nor does it wish to change anyone. It only quietly operates according to the laws of Heavenly Dao. Its sound does not come from a heart of flesh and blood, but from the primordial rhythm of the Big Dipper, from Red Pine wood that has absorbed the spiritual energy of Dao Trì for thousands of years. When Dao Cầm sounds, the fourth-dimensional space is gently vibrated; accumulated grievances of thousands of years are not suppressed by force or pleas, but naturally dissolve in the absolute vibrating frequency of Truth and Central Harmony.

One side is Human Music – passionate, tragic, full of drama. The other side is Heavenly Music – still, selfless, transcending all joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

Guangling Tan makes people shed tears through empathy with the pain of the human world. Dao Cầm makes people forget themselves and dissolve into the primordial silence of the universe.

That is not only the difference between two pieces of music, but the distance between one who seeks the Dao and one who practices the Dao, between the ego still full of grievances and the Central Fulcrum that has merged with Heavenly Dao.

Guangling Tan is the pinnacle of the human realm. Dao Cầm is the remaining trace of the Immortal Realm amidst the mortal world.

SIXTH MOVEMENT: THE CREATOR.

The Creator does not play the zither. The universe resonates by itself.

The Creator crafted Dao Cầm, but He never once played it.

He only placed the zither between heaven and earth, then quietly withdrew. Because He knew: the best music does not come from skillful hands, but from the universe resonating by itself. Dao Cầm is not a tool for humans to showcase talent, not for competing in romantic circles, and certainly not for satisfying fleeting pleasures.

It was born for one single purpose: To resonate with the rhythm of Heavenly Dao.

When Dao Cầm sounds at the correct frequency, the fourth-dimensional space is gently pierced. Accumulated grievances of thousands of years in the dragon veins, historical knots, and remaining curses from countless kalpas – all naturally dissolve. No need for suppression, no need for pleas, only the absolute vibration of Truth and Central Harmony. That is how music becomes a means of energy healing, as Teacher Phạm Hùng Sơn once practiced in his field expeditions.

However, the greatest tragic melody of music does not lie in the sound of the zither, but in the human heart.

When humans bring the ego into contact with Heavenly Music, everything immediately distorts. The lofty frequency becomes a sharp blade. Resonance turns into conflict. Harmony turns into chaos. The pure energy of the Big Dipper, when falling into a consciousness still full of greed, anger, and delusion, becomes too powerful for ordinary mortals to bear.

That is the root cause of all tragic melodies in music. It is not Dao Cầm that causes disaster. It is the human heart that deviates from the frequency of the Dao.

Those who use Dao Cầm to seek fame, to show off power, or to satisfy desires ultimately bring ruin upon themselves. On the contrary, those who know how to let go of the ego and reach the Central Fulcrum of Harmony, even without holding the zither, can still make all things resonate.

The Creator crafted Dao Cầm not to test human talent, but to test the heart. The zither is only a mirror. Whoever looks into it and sees themselves is the one who truly hears the Music of Heaven.

SEVENTH MOVEMENT: CENTRAL HARMONY.

When a person forgets themselves, Dao Cầm remembers them.

When the human heart reaches clarity, sincerity, and selflessness, that very person has become a living Dao Cầm.

Without needing strings, there is still music. Without needing to pluck, there is still resonance. Without needing to perform, one can still transform all things.

True music arises from the inner heart that has merged with Heavenly Dao.

POSTLUDE.

The night is already deep.

The Big Dipper still quietly hangs in the extreme north, no star added, no star missing. Dao Trì is still there. The Red Pine is still there. Dao Cầm is still there.

Only humans… grow increasingly distant from the sound of the zither.

They create ever more sophisticated musical instruments, compose thousands of beautiful pieces, and travel the world seeking true appreciators. But they forget that the first true appreciator is Heavenly Dao. They forget that the Music of Heaven does not need to be played with fingers, but only needs to be listened to with the heart.

If one day, amid a noisy and bustling life, you suddenly hear a very deep, very profound silence…

Please do not hurry away. Stop for a moment. Who knows, that may be the moment Dao Cầm is gently resonating in your heart.

A carefree child bends down, gently helps a worm crawling across the path, then looks up with a clear smile.

In that very instant, no sound of the zither echoes, yet Dao Cầm has gently resonated.

Not from Red Pine wood. Not from strings. But from the Central Fulcrum of Harmony awakening in the human heart.

That is the Music of Heaven. That is the echo from the Big Dipper homeland. That is the gentlest reminder:

Humans have never lost Dao Cầm. They have only forgotten how to listen.

Please continue following the next article: ANALYSIS OF 108 ARTICLES ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FOURTH DIMENSION AND THE LAW OF THE FULCRUM BY AUTHOR PHẠM HÙNG SƠN through the Lens of Hồng Bàng Dịch and the Mission of Đức Di Lạc. ARTICLE 22: THE ORIGIN OF THE I CHING – THE LUO SHU BELONGS TO THE VIETNAMESE PEOPLE.

Objective: To restore historical imprints and national identity.

Thank you for following. Warm regards. Điện bà Tây Ninh.

DANH SÁCH BÀI ĐÃ ĐĂNG.