Entertainment: A whirlwind marriage with a fairy-like mother at the start!

It was late January.

Salty Fish Entertainment Headquarters, Indoor Studio One.

The first dress rehearsal for the online Spring Festival Gala has officially begun.

The entire studio is extremely spacious, with the audience seating alone capable of accommodating thousands of people.

The stage design completely overturned the tacky color scheme of the traditional Spring Festival Gala, which used bright red and green. It adopted the most advanced holographic projection technology, combining a sense of technology and artistry.

Lang Kun, wearing a headset, sat intently at the director's table.

He gripped the walkie-talkie tightly, rapidly directing his large team.

"Push camera position three to the left!"

"Lights ready, cut to wide shot!"

Yu Le, holding a thermos, sat in the VIP family seat in the first row below the stage.

On the left is Liu Xiaoli, and on the right are Liu Qianqian and Dongdong.

Liu Qianqian was holding a large bucket of popcorn in her arms.

Dongdong was holding a bag of potato chips in her hand.

The two of them stared intently at the stage.

"Dad, when is Uncle Benshan coming out?" Liu Qianqian stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

"It'll be ready soon." Yu Le unscrewed the lid of the cup and took a sip of water.

As soon as he finished speaking, the stage lights suddenly went out.

The large background screen lights up. Snowflakes are falling heavily. A dilapidated mud-brick house in Northeast China.

Zhao Benshan, wearing a black cotton-padded jacket and an old baseball cap, walked onto the stage with his hands tucked into his sleeves and his back hunched.

Behind him was another person, dressed in an inappropriately tailored suit, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and with a thick gold chain around his neck that could be used to tether a dog, gleaming tackyly under the lights.

He was also holding a rather oddly shaped walking stick in his hand.

Fan Wei.

He was specially invited by Yu Le.

He hasn't participated in the Spring Festival Gala in recent years because he felt the pressure of the live broadcast was too great. The online Spring Festival Gala is much more relaxed now, and he doesn't feel as much pressure.

In addition, Yu Le offered a lot, so it was natural for them to participate.

The entire staff stared at Fan Wei, who stood frozen in place.

This golden duo hasn't shared the stage in years!

Old Zhao walked to the center of the stage, stamped the snow off his feet, cleared his throat, and as soon as that familiar tone came out, everyone's hearts were at ease.

"The spring breeze of reform sweeps across the land, and the Chinese people are truly remarkable."

He glanced sideways at Fan Wei behind him.

"You big head of yours, you're always doing useless things."

Fan Wei pushed up his glasses in protest and slammed his walking stick on the ground.

"Brother, you're wrong about that. What I'm doing is keeping up with the times, it's value investing! I'm buying Nasdaq."

Old Zhao's eyes widened, and as if he couldn't hold back, he raised his leg and kicked out.

"Buying that is considered extremely unlucky! It's bad luck for your parents, your wife, and your children!"

Fan Wei on stage clutched his thigh.

"Dude! NASDAQ is a stock market, not a 'cash cow' market."

"Stocks, my foot! You've thrown all your hard-earned savings into them, and you haven't even made a ripple!"

Old Zhao pulled his hand out of his sleeve and pointed at Fan Wei, cursing.

"Your wife was searching the whole world for you yesterday, carrying a freshly sharpened butcher knife!"

A burst of laughter erupted from the audience.

Just then, Sun Lirong, wearing a red floral-patterned jacket, swayed her hips and walked briskly onto the stage.

"I could hear you two spouting nonsense from far away! In this snowy weather, instead of going inside and heating up the kang (heated brick bed), you're practicing Errenzhuan (a type of folk opera) in this freezing cold!"

After saying that, she turned to look at Fan Wei, sizing him up from head to toe, and said in a sarcastic tone:

"Hey, isn't this the big boss of Nasdaq? What's up? Didn't you go to Wall Street to ring the bell today? Instead, you've come to this backwater to inspect our work?"

Fan Wei pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and straightened his chest.

"You don't understand. Capital operations require time to mature. I call this casting a long line to catch a big fish!"

Sun Lirong curled her lip in disdain.

"Forget it! With your pathetic long line, you can't even catch a loach! Go home already, your wife has prepared a washboard for you, and I glanced at it—she even hammered a few new thumbtacks into it!"

One burden after another.

The pacing is tight. There's absolutely no dragging or unnecessary details.

The dialogue is down-to-earth, coupled with the superb acting skills of Zhao Benshan and Fan Wei.

It immediately maximizes the comedic effect.

Liu Qianqian sat in the audience and laughed so hard she almost fell over.

The popcorn bucket in my arms bounced violently.

Golden popcorn fell all over him.

Dongdong patted the popcorn off her down jacket with a look of disgust.

"Sis, could you please control your facial expressions and body language a little?"

Liu Qianqian slapped Dongdong's Lei Feng hat with her hand.

"Shut up! Eat your potato chips!"

Liu Xiaoli, standing beside her, also covered her mouth, her shoulders heaving, tears welling in her eyes, and sighed:

"Old Zhao's sketches just have that unique flavor! They're a million times better than those dry, monotonous recitations of lines these days!"

Yu Le held his thermos cup, watching the wonderful performance of the three veteran actors on stage, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

This is exactly the effect he wanted.

Technology can be innovative, and the stage can be magnificent, but what truly touches people's hearts is always art that originates from life and is full of genuine emotion.

This is what ordinary people most want to see on New Year's Eve.

The skit has ended.

Old Zhao, along with Fan Wei and Sun Lirong, bowed and left the stage.

The staff on site spontaneously applauded.

Lang Kun held a walkie-talkie. He spoke extremely quickly.

"Lights dim, spotlight ready. Camera two, cut to wide shot, props team, move the microphone stand up."

The stage lights went out instantly.

The entire studio was plunged into darkness.

A few seconds later.

A beam of cold white spotlight shone down from the dome, landing directly in the center of the stage.

Xue Zhiqian was dressed in a pure white haute couture suit, with an upright posture.

He held the standing microphone with both hands, his head bowed.

Liu Qianqian leaned close to Yu Le's ear and lowered her voice.

"Dad, Lao Xue really isn't going to perform the chest-breaking boulder act anymore. I even specially prepared an 80-pound granite slab for him. The sledgehammer is all bought."

Yu Le glanced at her.

"You're planning to murder one of your artists. It's New Year's Eve, and bloodshed is considered unlucky."

"Then what role does he play?"

"Singing. I wrote a new song for him."

The prelude slowly begins.

The bass chords of the piano carry a faint sadness.

Xue Zhiqian raised his head.

His signature soulful voice echoed throughout the studio.

"The image I'm waiting for is so vague—"

"Feel the flow through your skin—"

"You actually managed to take away the sunlight—"

"I blindly follow the gusts of wind and waves—"

The staff below the stage immediately fell silent.

Old Xue's typhoon is frighteningly stable.

That deep-seated emotion was transmitted to every corner through the microphone.

Liu Qianqian stopped chewing popcorn.

His eyes were fixed on the stage without blinking.

"Dad, this song is amazing. Lao Xue's (Xue Xue's) sentimental persona is just too perfect."

Yu Le leaned back in his chair.

"He's only like a normal person when he's singing; otherwise, he's a lunatic."