Most people assume the hulusi is an instrument with a thousand-year history, known by this name since antiquity. This is not the case. The term “hulusi” that we use today appeared relatively recently. For a long time, this free-reed wind instrument from China’s southwest ethnic regions had no universal title. Villages and ethnic groups each used their own local names for it.

In Dai villages around Dehong and Baoshan in Yunnan, people call this gourd-resonated reed instrument bilangdao. The Achang and Jingpo peoples also have their own native names. These terms are rooted in local languages and circulated only within communities, rarely reaching outsiders. Back then, it was an informal folk instrument for leisure in mountain settlements. There were no standardized shapes or naming conventions. Artisans decided the instrument’s size, number of bamboo tubes and auxiliary pipes by personal preference, with no fixed rules.

In the mid-to-late 20th century, the instrument stepped out of mountain villages and onto formal stages. To simplify introduction and teaching, practitioners needed a straightforward, memorable name. Combining its two defining features — a gourd as the resonance chamber and sound generated by vibrating metal reeds — the name “hulusi” gradually settled and gained popularity. Alongside the fixed name, its form was standardized into the classic version we buy today: one main pipe paired with two auxiliary pipes.

The settling of its name also drove improvements to the instrument itself. Early folk variants had loose structures. Some had only one pipe, while others had different auxiliary pipe setups. Their narrow range limited them to short local folk melodies. After the name was established, makers unified finger hole positions, adjusted reed specifications and standardized the proportions between gourd and bamboo tubes. The instrument became capable of playing a wider selection of arranged pieces, moving from casual mountain improvisation into classrooms and performances.

Standardization did not erase the original folk versions. Old-style reed instruments can still be found in remote villages. They do not strictly follow modern hulusi production norms. Finger hole layout and auxiliary pipe configuration remain flexible, producing a raw, rustic tone that sounds quite different from commercial, standardized hulusi. These pieces represent the instrument in its original form, unbound by uniform specifications.

Many learners and players take for granted that the hulusi has always looked exactly as it does now, treating the current standard design as its complete identity. The hulusi we know is actually a traditional folk instrument, redefined and standardized in modern times. The name “hulusi” works like a public-facing label, given to it through modern cultural communication. Long before this name existed, the instrument accompanied local people in the mountains of southwest China for generations.

This context offers a new perspective when choosing an instrument. Hulusi on the market vary greatly in character. Modern improved models have wider ranges and suit contemporary music. Some makers tune their instruments referencing old folk designs for a more primitive tone. Neither version is the sole “authentic” form. They follow two separate paths of inheritance: one toward standardization and stage performance, the other preserving its original mountain quality.

Behind a single name lies the full journey of this instrument, from a pastime for village communities to an instrument known to wider audiences. Compared with vague ancient legends, this history of naming and standardization is a genuine yet often overlooked chapter in the modern story of the hulusi.