"Ah... so once it's broken, it can't be fixed completely? I feel like there's a metaphor for life somewhere in there," Yang says. He looks over the broken guitar for a moment, his expression screwing up slightly as he thinks about it, and then he looks back up.

He smiles, apologetically. "It's not as productive or impressive, I'm afraid."

He holds up the two halves of a wooden horseman statue. It has a look of an armored knight, riding a destrier, with a lance. The horse's head and neck have come off, with a clean split along the front.

"If you could help me find the glue, I would appreciate it," he adds.