Da Ming: Father, step aside, I'll be the prime minister!

Chapter 151 Crosstalk: "Guan Yu vs. Qin Qiong"

Upon hearing this, Duke Zhang Rong of England's bronze face turned purple, and he said angrily.

"How dare you, you brat, address me by my given name!"

In ancient times, people generally addressed each other by their courtesy name or official title. Unless one was a close friend or relative, calling someone by their full name was no different from insulting them.

Before he finished speaking, his large, fan-like hand was already raised high, as if he wanted to slap Zhang Yunxiu away.

But Zhang Yunxiu remained unfazed, raising his head high with an air of unyielding resolve.

"Uncle, go ahead and hit me! It would be best if you severely injured me, Zhang Yunxiu! I, Zhang Yunxiu, would be free of any worries, and from now on, I can completely ignore the affairs of the clinic and the Xishan workshop."

"Bastard thing!"

Zhang Rong roared, but his anger hit nothing.

He recalled that a few days ago, after signing the contract and seeing the smokeless coal, he had already paid almost all of the 50,000 taels of silver.

The one who owes money is the boss!

Damn it, no wonder that kid's mouth was practically stretched to his ears after signing the contract that day—he had planned it all along, using the contract as leverage to control me!

Even the slightest movement from Zhang Yunxiu, like a sneeze, would make Zhang Rong's heart race.

The construction of the entire Xishan workshop now depends on this kid. Whether his money will go down the drain or whether he can earn it back is all up to him.

Zhang Rong was impatient, but he was not a reckless man.

He kept reassuring himself that "a fierce glare is not as good as a gentle brow," and that getting angry would only ruin things.

He took two deep breaths, and as his chest rose and fell, the thought of the fifty thousand taels of silver eventually calmed him down.

After calming down, Zhang Rong was still pondering in his heart.

In fact, Zhang Yunxiu is quite capable.

The smokeless coal I saw a while ago was just as amazing as other things like "telescopes" and "garlic extract".

It was precisely because of this that Zhang Rong helped the other party to act recklessly, and even held this ridiculous "Mobilization Meeting for the Construction of Xishan Workshop in Anping Camp, West Suburbs".

He fooled around a bit, tricking his youngest son into going on stage as an "actor." How could I, Zhang Rong, a Duke, be angry?
Thinking of this, Zhang Rong felt somewhat indignant again.

The profession of "actor" is a lowly occupation, a means of livelihood for people from impoverished families!
Ordinary people, unless they are truly unable to afford food, and even those with a slight scholarly background, would not make a living as "actors".

In traditional Confucian thought, only studying and entering officialdom is the right path!

For nobles like the Duke of England, the rule of "nobles should avoid suspicion" was necessary when taking the imperial examinations to enter officialdom. However, even if they did not study the classics, their skills in archery and horsemanship made them a good candidate for the military examinations.

Even if things go terribly wrong, staying at home and wasting time is still much better than becoming some kind of "actor".

Do you think I'm short of money? I have to rely on my young son to perform on stage and act ugly to earn some tips.

Zhang Rong's eyes were filled with sadness. He saw Zhang Yuanhao performing passionately on the stage. The boy was dressed in a straight robe and looked quite respectable, but he was still just performing on stage. The refugees didn't even offer him any reward money. When he said something good, they would throw a few half-eaten dry rations or steamed buns onto the stage.

It is
For a moment, Zhang Rong's eyes reddened, and her body trembled slightly.

Seeing that the Duke was not in a good state, Zhang Yunxiu couldn't help but comfort him.

"Uncle, there's no need to feel ashamed. This crosstalk is not like that of actors; it's not a lowly profession. It's a refined art created by your nephew!"

Zhang Rong's eyes widened, and they were bloodshot.

"Going on stage to make a fool of oneself and amuse people with a comical act, how is this any different from the actors in the brothel?"

It's no wonder Zhang Rong was excited. In ancient times, whether it was "actors," "comedic actors," or "life actors," they were basically all low-class professions.

This idea has been deeply ingrained for a long time and is unlikely to change in a short period of time.

But Zhang Yunxiu spoke with an air of self-righteousness, shaking his head as he spoke.

"No, no, Uncle, you are mistaken. Who said that going on stage to make people laugh is a lowly profession?"
In my nephew's opinion, this ability to make people laugh is the most precious thing.

Uncle, look at these refugees. They came all the way from Shanxi, enduring hunger and cold, sleeping in the open and in the wind. Even a full meal is a luxury for them.

We're all human, so why is it that the rich young masters in the capital can go around having fun while they have to toil in the fields with miserable faces all day long?
We may not be able to provide the lives of wealthy young men for the refugees, but we can certainly let them experience joy!

“Isn’t that still just a comedic actor?” Zhang Rong remained stern, clearly unconvinced.

But Zhang Yunxiu remained serious.

"So what if you're a court jester? Does being a court jester make you inherently inferior? Uncle, you just haven't read enough books."

Sima Zichang, the Grand Historian of the Western Han Dynasty, said in the "Biographies of Jesters" in the Records of the Grand Historian that the so-called jesters were those who could "resolve disputes with their subtle and insightful remarks."

For example, during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, You Meng of the State of Chu could use humor to advise the king, as could You Zhan of the State of Qin, who similarly used humor to advise the First Emperor and the Second Emperor of Qin, and Chunyu Kun of the State of Qi.

Zhang Yunxiu's quotations left Zhang Rong speechless. He initially thought the other party was joking, so he asked a clerk for details, only to discover that the passage actually existed in the Records of the Grand Historian.

For a moment, Zhang Rong felt that her understanding had been challenged.
Is it possible that this so-called "paiyou" (俳优) is not a lowly profession?

Although he didn't quite believe it, Zhang Rong felt much better inside. He stared intently at his young son on the stage and Zhu Yinghuai of the Duke of Cheng's mansion, and snorted coldly.

"So be it. Since the rebellious son has already taken the stage, let him finish what he started. I'll make him come down and confront me after the performance is over!"

As Zhang Rong said this, he gritted his teeth, thinking about how to teach Zhang Yuanhao a lesson when he got back.

Why should we believe whatever people say?
You, a nobleman from the British royal family, were actually tricked into becoming a "drama actor"—you are utterly pathetic!
Even if Zhang Yuanhao were a bit wicked, or did something truly wicked like Zhang Yunxiu, Zhang Rong would appear angry on the surface, but secretly feel comforted inside.

But now it seems
Zhang Yunxiu then offered words of comfort from the side.

"Uncle, you don't need to take it too seriously. You have to be patient when educating children. You can't resort to violence all the time. Look at my father, he was very strict in educating his children. What have his sons turned out like?"

Only I, the unruly youngest son, have achieved some success.

Zhang Rong glanced at the other person speechlessly. This kid was actually praising himself?
However, after her explanation, Zhang Rong was no longer as agitated as before.

His gaze remained fixed on the stage, and he realized that Zhang Yunxiu had not deceived him. The performance of the two on stage did not appear to be a comical act of "actors" playing ugly roles, but rather a humorous performance that amused the audience through dialogue and storytelling.

Does that really seem more refined?
Speaking of which, Zhu Yinghuai and Zhang Yuanhao were usually engrossed in listening to stories in teahouses, and they were quite adept at telling these "crosstalk" performances.

On the stage, the two of them were talking back and forth.

Zhu Yinghuai: "Good heavens! Is this what a spendthrift young master's dull and boring life is like?"

Zhang Yuanhao: "That's not all. In the sweltering heat of June, I would wrap myself in a whole bearskin coat, with a fifty-tael gold chain around my neck, with four small items—tweezers, toothpicks, ear picks, and a knife—connected by rings. I had eight servants at home fanning me vigorously with palm-leaf fans, and even Physician Yang from Renmin Medical Hall had to follow along with his medicine box."

Zhu Yinghuai: If you suffer like this, you'll be skinned alive even if you don't die!
Upon hearing this, Zhang Rong's face turned almost green, and he glared at him, saying...

"This unfilial son! How could he be so dissolute at home? A fifty-tael gold chain? Isn't he afraid of breaking his neck!" Zhang Yunxiu quickly explained, "Uncle, please calm down. This is art, and art is fiction. How can you take it seriously?"

To prevent the other party from causing trouble again, he introduced the identities of the two people on the stage.

"Your son, Zhang Yuanhao, is a comedian; he speaks clearly and eloquently, and his stories are vivid and engaging. Zhu Yinghuai, on the other hand, is a supporting actor; he is quick-witted and always gets to the heart of the matter."

After a brief introduction, Zhang Rong finally gained some understanding of the performances of the two people above.

Then, the two performed a Ming Dynasty version of "Guan Yu vs. Qin Qiong".

The two people on stage looked serious and earnest, and Zhang Yuanhao even imitated Guan Yu's rough voice.

His serious yet exaggerated manner immediately drew laughter from the displaced people in the audience, who cheered him on.

Even Zhang Rong was amused; a smile appeared on his lips, and the wrinkles on his face naturally gathered together.

"It's actually quite interesting~"

He stroked his beard and said with a sigh.

"Guan Yu fighting Qin Qiong? I never knew Yuan Hao had such talent. I thought he only knew how to use his skills on women's bellies."

As a father, Zhang Rong was naturally happy to see his young son perform so earnestly and gain the approval of the refugees.

It's worth noting that Zhang Rong had raised Zhang Yuanhao for over a decade and had never seen him so serious before.

This is the first time.

He's been studying and learning to read since he was little, but when has this kid ever not had a cynical attitude?

Even when Zhang Rong invited a great scholar from the Hanlin Academy to tutor Zhang Yuanhao, the boy still refused to listen, and even angered the scholar so much that he ran away, blushing as he spoke to Zhang Rong.

"Your Excellency, please forgive my lack of knowledge and skills."

One gentleman is one thing, but if all gentlemen are like this, it speaks volumes.

Zhang Rong originally thought that his youngest son would continue to live such absurd life, but unexpectedly, there was something in this world that could make him concentrate.

But it just so happens to be "crosstalk".
Zhang Rong still couldn't accept the "crosstalk" format, but he comforted himself that it was at least much better than patronizing prostitutes.

Moreover, the gazes of the displaced people in the audience were unmistakable.

Through a series of easy-to-understand dialogues and stories that subtly conveyed philosophical insights, the two on stage transformed the initially gloomy displaced people into cheerful individuals, providing them with an outlet for their emotions.

The underlying tension among the refugees seemed to gradually dissipate during this exchange.
Zhang Rong saw this and couldn't help but sigh.

"Shiyuan, this crosstalk has some merit. If it could be popularized in the military camp, it would be beneficial to boost morale."

Zhang Rong, who came from a military background, immediately thought that this skill was simple and straightforward, requiring only verbal expression.

Moreover, it is not limited by location; whether in the city streets or military camps, one can perform on the spot, which is very convenient.

It should be understood that whether the army is marching or stationed in military garrisons, the daily lives of the soldiers are mostly monotonous and dull.

If this crosstalk could be slightly adapted and popularized among the military, it would surely boost the morale of some soldiers.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Zhang Yunxiu nodded and said.

"This art of crosstalk is actually derived from the 'lifelike' style of the Northern Song Dynasty and the 'paiyou' style of the Spring and Autumn Period, and also incorporates the strengths of 'storytellers,' fusing all kinds of schools into one, with my nephew adding a few new ideas."

For example, transforming the classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections into the flesh and blood of the content.

This crosstalk is different from others; we neither make ourselves look ugly to make people laugh, nor are we pretentious.

Dressed in a plain-colored robe, his demeanor was like that of a scholar from an academy. How could he be considered lowly?

If this is introduced into the military in the future, incorporating drill slogans and stories of loyalty and bravery, it will surely boost morale in casual conversation, and through their exposure, soldiers will also be able to maintain high fighting spirit.

Clearly, compared to newspapers, the form of communication through crosstalk and drama is more readily accepted by the public.

This was especially true for ordinary soldiers with low levels of education, as well as displaced people.

Throughout history, the literacy rate among the common people in the Ming Dynasty was relatively high, but only a small number of people were actually literate.

The presence of traditional opera and crosstalk greatly solved this problem.

Zhang Yunxiu could even make the text more accessible to ordinary people by reducing its complexity and using a more conversational style.

The smiles on the faces of the displaced people in the audience today are proof of the infectious power of crosstalk.

Upon seeing this, Zhang Yunxiu's mind began to wander.

If crosstalk really works, wouldn't I be able to train a group of crosstalk performers in the future?
They would call themselves something like "Yunxiu Society" or "Deyun Society," and they could even help their father, Zhang Juzheng, to promote the various policies and decrees of the new government.

It is only natural that I should write this text myself and plant some "sparks" for future ideas.

However, Zhang Rong was not entirely satisfied, and he offered a reminder.

"I believe you now. This 'crosstalk' is indeed unique and much more refined than the 'comedic performances' of the past."

However, this skill is ultimately a minor one; it can add icing on the cake, but it cannot provide essential help in times of need.

Why did the refugees cause trouble? The root cause was their inability to make a living. These people had left their homes and families, and returning home was a dead end for them.

They are desperate people; if you want to save their lives, you must solve their livelihood problems.

Otherwise, if this were to happen, and 'rebels' were to emerge, you, Zhang Shiyuan, would also be held responsible.

Zhang Yunxiu's proposal to build the Xishan Workshop was originally an excellent plan.

It can both solve the livelihood problems of displaced people and build various workshops and industries in Xishan with the help of displaced people, which can be described as killing two birds with one stone.

The so-called "work relief" can resolve the dilemma itself.

However, even the best strategy is useless if it cannot be implemented effectively.

Nowadays, not only do the displaced people not understand, but even the high-ranking officials and ministers of the Six Ministries in the capital are indifferent to this.

This predicament is precisely what worries and troubles Zhang Rong.

　Note 1: This crosstalk routine is adapted from Guo Degang's "The Spendthrift Son".

　　
　
(End of this chapter)