Returning to the county opera troupe in 77

With two crumpled yuan and thirty cents in his pocket, Chen Xiangdong wandered aimlessly down the street, his nose drawn in by the aroma of mutton stew.

"How much is the mutton soup?"

Only a few flatbed carts were scattered across the dirt street, with vendors tending their stalls. An old man with yellow teeth wiped a white porcelain bowl with a rag: "Three cents a bowl, want one? Hurry up, the red armbands will be patrolling the streets soon."

Chen Xiangdong hesitated for a long time before shaking his head: "It's too expensive. Other people only pay 25 cents a bowl. Yours is too expensive."

The old man was displeased upon hearing this: "What's so expensive about it? If it's 25 cents, you'd have to add three ounces of grain coupons."

Chen Xiangdong curled his lip, tightened his cotton-padded coat, and walked past the stall, quickening his pace and ignoring the old man's grumbling behind him.

It's been a day since I was reborn. Today is the last day for the county theater troupe to recruit "stagehands," which is what outsiders often call odd jobs. When the troupe is short-handed, they often recruit these people to play minor roles.

If I could catch this last train like in my previous life, I could get a hot meal at the county theater troupe that night.

Three cents in the fall of 1977 still carried some weight; every penny saved counted.

In his previous life, he spent half his life working in the county theater troupe. Although he was just doing odd jobs, he was able to make a living and not starve to death.

The two yuan and thirty cents in his pocket were the travel expenses that his parents had squeezed out for him from between their teeth.

People in the mountains toil in the loess soil all year round, and it's already extremely difficult for them to save even a few dollars.

With only two black steamed buns he had taken from home, he walked all the way from the mountains to the county town, seeking a way to make a living.

Turn at the end of the long street and you'll see a large courtyard with a big sign hanging at the entrance—Dongping County Theater Troupe.

Looking at the theater troupe's compound with its blue brick walls and tiles, Chen Xiangdong couldn't help but feel a little dazed.

The courtyard is still the same as I remember. This courtyard was originally the old bureaucratic compound. It remained empty after liberation until the 1960s when it was assigned to the county drama troupe.

Just as he stepped through the gate, the old gatekeeper called out to him, "Hey, stop right there! What are you doing here?"

The old man's name was Hu Xiaolian. He had a good relationship with Chen Xiangdong in his previous life, but this was the first time they had met in this life.

Chen Xiangdong quickly smiled at him and said, "Master Hu, I'm here to apply for a job cleaning the fields. Didn't they say that young and strong poor and lower-middle peasants would be given priority?"

The old man said "Oh," waved his hand, and let him in. But as soon as Chen Xiangdong left, he suddenly paused, took off his reading glasses that had slipped down to the bridge of his nose, and realized: "Huh, how did he know my surname is Hu?"

Besides the two-story brick building, there are several rows of old tile-roofed houses and two courtyards in front and behind the compound.

Chen Xiangdong went straight to the backyard and sure enough, he saw seven or eight people wearing drab gray cotton-padded coats arguing around a long table.

"Commander Han, please keep me here. Don't let my skinny appearance fool you, I'm all muscle and can handle any kind of heavy work."

"Director Han, don't listen to his nonsense! He's Liu the Scoundrel from Erdao Street. He's done all sorts of bad things, from swindling to cheating. You can't choose him; he'll ruin the troupe's reputation sooner or later."

"Captain, please choose me..."

Han Xuewen, who was holding a ceramic mug on the long table, couldn't help but smile when he heard a group of people calling him "leader." But as he heard the rest, his face suddenly tightened, and he spat the tea leaves in his mouth onto the ground with a "pui."

"What Commander Han! He's the deputy commander! You can't just call him that. There's only one commander in our regiment, and that's Commander Jia."

After saying that, he glanced coldly at the group of people gathered around the table: "Our county theater troupe is hiring stagehands. Even though they're temporary workers, we still look at their backgrounds. You bunch of idlers dare to come here and spout nonsense? Do you think I don't know your backgrounds?"

At Han Wenxue's shout, the group of men immediately fell silent.

Then Han Wenxue cleared his throat, pointed to a red paper pasted on the big poplar tree behind him, and continued:

"Did you see that clearly? The poor and lower-middle peasants are the hard criteria. You petty thieves from a few county towns dare to try and pass yourselves off here? Get lost and don't waste my time."

The group looked at each other, then hung their heads and slunk away.

The crowd dispersed in an instant, which surprised Han Wenxue: Hey, why is it so hard to hire a temporary worker for the inspection?

He frowned and clicked his tongue, wondering if there wasn't a single qualified person in the entire Dongping County.

Chen Xiangdong trotted over at that moment, took out a letter of introduction from the village chief from his cotton trouser pocket, and handed it to Han Wenxue with a smile: "Hello, leader, I'm here to apply for the job of inspector."

Han Wenxue picked up the letter of introduction, glanced at it, and then looked at Chen Xiangdong: "From Maoerduogou? Poor and lower-middle peasants?"

Chen Xiangdong said, "We were extremely poor. Our ancestors were poor farmers for eight generations, and my grandfather and the others all starved to death."

Han Wenxue immediately composed himself and stood up: "Then they truly have impeccable revolutionary credentials."

Chen Xiangdong raised his face and said, "It's all because my ancestors had strong beliefs. I am irreconcilably opposed to capitalism."

Han Wenxue's lips twitched at his remark, but she quickly composed herself and slapped the letter of introduction into his hand: "Alright, stop arguing. You're only fourteen this year? Can you even lift heavy things?"

Chen Xiangdong, who was often hungry and malnourished, was less than 1.6 meters tall. His thin and small appearance made Han Wenxue worry about whether he could handle the job of inspecting the site.

The odd jobs in the theater troupe are no easy tasks. Disassembling and assembling the stage, loading and unloading truckloads of supplies, and moving props and props are all demanding.

"Sure, we often do hauling grain and grinding grain in the mountains."

As Chen Xiangdong spoke, he walked towards the corner of the courtyard wall where old sets and prop boxes were piled up.

A dozen large wooden crates and sword and spear handles were scattered all over the ground. He had spent half his life in this theater troupe in his previous life, and he could put away all the sword and spear handles, scenery props and sets neatly with his eyes closed.

In no time at all, they tidied up the pile of things by the courtyard wall and even tied up the broken gun barrels with hemp rope.

Han Wenxue watched from the side, a hint of satisfaction on his face. This kid may be young, but he's quite perceptive.

To be honest, after he tidied it up, it actually looks quite decent.

Chen Xiangdong picked up the broom again and swept up the pile of poplar leaves that had been blown all over the ground by the wind in the corner.

His hands were busy working, but his mind was perfectly clear. He had been chosen by Han Wenxue in this very place in his past life, and there was no way that anything unexpected would happen in this life.

That means I'll have a hot meal tonight.

Han Wenxue nodded, waved to him, picked up his teacup, and walked towards the front yard: "Alright, you can stay here. Come with me to register and write your name down."

After saying that, he frowned and looked over again: "By the way, can you read?"

Chen Xiangdong rushed over, saying, "I recognize it, I can write the name."

The production manager had to take leave due to family matters, so Han Xuewen was chosen as the interviewer for today's recruitment.

After registering in the simple little office of the production department, Chen Xiangdong received a set of black work clothes, a pair of liberation shoes, a set of bedding, and daily necessities such as an enamel basin, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

Temporary workers are not entitled to room allocation, so Han Wenxue placed him in the woodshed next to the kitchen and storage room.

They kept tidying up until dusk, finally managing to clean the woodshed thoroughly.

There was no bed in the room, but fortunately the troupe had plenty of thick wooden planks. They laid down a few bricks and put the hard planks on top, and a simple little bed was made.

Lying on the wooden bed, looking at the holes in the roof, Chen Xiangdong felt inexplicably at ease.

"The same start as my past life..."

Just as I was feeling sentimental, I heard a series of knocking and banging sounds coming from outside.

Chen Xiangdong couldn't help but prick up his ears. Listening to the noise, it didn't sound like Liu Dezhu was beating the drum.

That old man is a good drummer; he couldn't possibly be beating it so poorly and carelessly.

"You idiot! How many times have I told you, the drumsticks need to fall rhythmically! This gust of wind has made a mess of it all!"

Chen Xiangdong recognized the voice as that of Lin Datou from the drum band. Without asking, he knew Lin was teaching his nephew how to play the drums.

Suddenly, he remembered something: the county troupe would be recruiting a group of Qinqiang opera students in a month, recruiting both actors and musicians. It was a training class set up by the higher-level leaders to cultivate the troupe's reserve force.

For the chance to get into the training program, everyone in the troupe was competing openly and secretly. Those with connections used their influence, while those without tried to give gifts. Who wouldn't want to get their own kid in?

In his previous life, Lin Datou's nephew was selected, but that guy was simply not cut out for opera. He practiced the music and strings for years but still couldn't get the hang of it. In the end, he was expelled for peeping at female students showering...

Thinking of this incident, Chen Xiangdong's heart immediately became lively.

He jumped off the bed: "We're both in the same theater troupe, so why am I only allowed to do dirty and tiring odd jobs? Can't I learn to sing?"

Once the thought arises, it's impossible to suppress it.

The woodshed door creaked open, and Chen Xiangdong suddenly popped his head out, startling Lin Datou and Lin Gouwa.

Then Chen Xiangdong greeted them with a smile: "Hello, Drum Master Lin."

Lin Datou was taken aback at first, then frowned: "Who are you? What are you doing here at our theater troupe?"

Chen Xiangdong pointed to the woodshed: "I'm a newly recruited inspector, and Deputy Commander Han arranged for me to stay here."

Lin Datou nodded and said, "Oh, so you're new here."

Chen Xiangdong smiled and leaned closer, glancing at Lin Gouwa, who was half a head shorter than him: "I heard you playing the drums just now, and you played them quite well. If you could have played them a little tighter, the momentum would have been even stronger. You have to work on the rhythm slowly."

Lin Gouwa was taken aback by what he was told.

Lin Datou, however, was displeased. He glared at Lin and said, "You, a temporary worker who works at the maintenance station, know how to play drums? What, do I need you to instruct me on how to play drums? Why don't you try playing them yourself?"