Returning to the county opera troupe in 77

Chapter 113 Gouwa Becomes an Apprentice

On the morning of the second day after Xue Rong and the others arrived, Lin Gouwa, who had been struggling with his decision for several days, finally made up his mind.

He sneaked into the old storage room in the courtyard, rummaging through boxes and cabinets looking for something. The dust made him sneeze several times. Finally, at the bottom of a brown wooden box, he found a flattened train engine hat.

Lin Gouwa's little eyes lit up: "Found it!"

He pulled out the pair of scissors he had prepared beforehand from his pocket—

After dawdling for quite a while, half a hairy head peeked out of the storeroom door. Seeing that no one was outside, it slipped out along the wall and stealthily made its way towards the theater.

The front yard was quiet at the moment, the clatter of bowls and chopsticks in the canteen hadn't completely stopped, and the yard was empty, so no one noticed the commotion here.

He hunched over, pressing down his slightly swaying train engine hat, and as he passed the window of the gatehouse, his back was almost level with the windowsill, but the fur on his hat was still sticking up, flashing past the windowsill.

Hu Xiaolian, who was sitting there smoking, suddenly felt a blur before his eyes. He quickly adjusted his reading glasses, which had slipped down to the bridge of his nose, and looked out the window with wide eyes. He saw a furry thing floating past the windowsill.

"My God! What is that?!"

Startled, Old Hu jumped up from his chair, scattering his cigarettes all over the table. He scrambled back, nearly knocking over the thermos with his heel.

His heart was pounding. He mustered his courage and went closer, leaning against the window frame and peering out for a long time, but the outside was empty, and he couldn't see a single shadow.

Could it be that he was seeing things? He frowned and muttered, "What the hell is going on so early in the morning?!"

Since Mao Shidao arrived a few days ago, Chen Xiangdong has increased his daily water bottle filling schedule from three to four. Now that Xue Rong and Mo Qingyan have also moved into the row of rooms at the back of the theater, his workload has increased again, to six water bottles, one in the morning and another in the evening.

He carried two kettles filled with hot water to the back dormitory. Xue Rong and Mo Qingyan were standing at the door talking. When they saw him, they quickly took the kettles with smiles and said, "Thank you, Xiang Dong."

"This kid is really good, so diligent."

Chen Xiangdong waved his hand with a smile: "It's nothing, Master Xue and Master Mo, don't be so polite. The water just boiled, it's very hot, be careful when you pour it."

As he was saying this, he turned to leave, and just then he ran into Mao Shidao coming out of the house, carrying a tea mug in his hand, with wisps of steam rising up.

"Dongwa, have you seen Lin Gouwa these past two days?"

Mao Shidao took a sip of tea, looked up and asked him.

-

Speaking of Lin Gouwa, Chen Xiangdong couldn't help but blink and raise an eyebrow slightly: "Huh? Right, it seems like I haven't seen him for the past few days."

A clear look of disappointment flashed across Mao Shidao's face. He sighed softly, "It seems that kid isn't going to learn opera from me. Alas, it's such a pity to waste such a talented person."

Upon hearing this, Chen Xiangdong couldn't help but twitch his lips.

Talent? And that much talent?

Lin Gouwa's face involuntarily flashed through his mind: slanted eyebrows, narrow eyes, a flat nose, and a round chin—

This is the first time I've heard of someone calling someone ugly "talented." Isn't this talent tree a bit too skewed?

Chen Xiangdong opened his mouth, but seeing Mao Shidao's lost and dejected look, he swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Mao Shidao glanced at him, as if he could read his mind, chuckled, and shook his head, saying, "You people don't understand the tricks of the clown."

Chen Xiangdong knew that what Mao Shidao was talking about was indeed the capital of being a clown, but he still couldn't help but complain in his heart: God gave him a gift—what kind of gift is this?

If it were me, I'd rather not take this job than grow up to look like that timid, gloomy-eyed person.

Just then, his eyes suddenly widened as he stared at a spot not far behind Mao Shidao, and he exclaimed in astonishment, "Gouwa? Where did you get this tattered hat?"

Mao Shidao turned around and saw a thin figure walking over timidly.

Lin Gouwa wore a large, oversized train-head hat with its fur curled up. The hat was so big that it looked like an upside-down small pot on his head. It flapped and swayed as he walked, the brim drooping down to cover half his eyebrows, as if it might fall off at any moment.

Startled by the shout, Lin Gouwa stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet. He frantically straightened his hat, revealing a flushed face, and stammered, "I found this in the storeroom—isn't this Yang Zirong's hat from 'Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy'? I thought it looked quite imposing, so—"

As he spoke, he shrank his neck, and his hat slipped forward. He quickly raised his hand to steady it, looking both nervous and embarrassed.

Mao Shidao, who was initially feeling disappointed, was stunned for a moment when he saw Lin Gouwa's appearance. Then, his old eyes suddenly lit up.

He looked Lin Gouwa up and down, his gaze lingering between the crooked hat and Lin Gouwa's darting little eyes. He found him pleasing to the eye and just right. Suddenly, he couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Chen Xiangdong couldn't help but laugh. He used to think Lin Gouwa was just a funny-looking kid, with features that naturally made him look amusing. But now, with that oversized hat and that sullen, cowardly look, he was a perfect clown.

To be honest, Mao Shidao has a really sharp eye.

He tried to hold back, but in the end he couldn't help it and the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up.

Mao Shidao laughed for a while, then cleared his throat and deliberately adopted a affected tone: "Gouwa, you've come here for something?"

That's obvious. He doesn't have a master in this courtyard, so why would anyone come here for no reason?

Lin Gouwa lowered his head, stealing glances at Master Mao, and whispered in a voice barely audible, "Master Mao, I... I want to learn opera from you."

Mao Shidao's smile deepened, but he didn't rush to agree. He just hummed in agreement and slowly sipped his tea.

Lin Gouwa waited with his head down for a while, but seeing that Master Mao didn't give a definite answer, he couldn't help but get anxious. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer and suddenly raised his head, his voice a little tight: "Master Mao, I really want to learn opera! I... I've been practicing somersaults by the wall in the backyard these past two days, and I've fallen so many times that my knees are all bruised—"

As he spoke, his eyes reddened, he rolled up his trouser leg, revealing bruises on his knees: "Master Mao, please accept me!"

Mao Shidao glanced at the bruises on his knees, and after a long while, he slowly said, "Learning opera is very tough. It's not like working in the production crew handling weapons. You have to practice from five in the morning to nine in the evening, year-round. Can you endure that kind of hardship?"

"able!"

Without a second thought, Lin Gouwa nodded vigorously. With a flick of his head, the train engine hat fell to the ground, revealing his bald, round head.

Chen Xiangdong was taken aback when he saw the boy's round, bald head, which looked like a large braised egg. He couldn't help but burst out laughing: "Gouwa, you—you're planning to start learning from Master Mao from scratch?! You're so crooked!"

He laughed so hard his shoulders shook. The big braised egg paired with Lin Gouwa's ugly-cute face, plus his hunched-over neck and shrug shoulders, his simple and cowardly manner, was just so endearing that it was impossible not to laugh.

Lin Gouwa was a little embarrassed by his laughter and scratched his bald head: "I was thinking that Master Mao said I have a round head—so I'll shave my head and see if it'll be even funnier—"

Mao Shidao stepped forward, squinted, and circled Lin Gouwa, examining his shaved head, which was patchy and had tufts of short hair, looking like it had been chewed by a dog. He nodded and said, "Hmm—good. A clown isn't afraid of being ugly, but of being ugly without any distinctive features. Your bald head looks much more cheerful than before."

"Um?"

Lin Gouwa's expression shifted, and he suddenly turned to look at Mao Shidao, his small eyes widening in surprise: "Master Mao, you've agreed to take me in?"

At this moment, Chen Xiangdong walked over with a smile, kicked Lin Gouwa's calf with his toe, and quickly winked at him: "What are you still standing there for? Hurry up and kowtow to become his disciple!"

Lin Gouwa suddenly came to his senses, knelt down with a thud, and kowtowed three times solidly to the ground. When he raised his head again, there were red marks on his forehead: "Master!"

With a smile on his face, Mao Shidao bent down after a moment and gently patted Lin Gouwa's bald head: "Good boy! Get up. From today onwards, you are my only disciple, Mao Shidao."

"Oh, Master!"

Lin Gouwa stood up, his eyes reddened, his nose reddened, but his mouth was stretched into a wide grin.

Before he could be happy for long, Mao Shidao said, "Gouwa, the basic skills that we clowns have to practice are no less than those of the female lead and the martial arts actor. You should be mentally prepared."

Lin Gouwa nodded hurriedly, "Yes, I know."

Mao Shidao nodded and continued, "The saying goes that martial clowns are judged by their whistling, and literary clowns by their eyebrows and eyes; both must be good at talking. This describes our clown profession. Since you have taken me as your master, I will train you according to the strictest standards. You must practice all the basic skills of both literary and martial clowns."

"Practice all of them?" Lin Gouwa's mouth opened slightly, as if he hadn't expected this.

"What? Scared?" Mao Shidao raised his eyelids and looked over with a half-smile.

"I'm not afraid! I'm not afraid of hardship, I'm just afraid of not learning real skills!" Lin Gouwa straightened his back and stiffened his neck: "I'll practice whatever Master says!"

Mao Shidao smiled with satisfaction, then looked at Chen Xiangdong beside him: "Let's start today. First, let your brother Xiangdong teach you how to do the splits and backbends."

"Huh?" Lin Gouwa was stunned for a moment, then looked at Chen Xiangdong in disbelief: "Brother Xiangdong, you can sing opera too?"

Chen Xiangdong's learning of opera from Fang Zhengsheng and the others had always been done secretly, but now that's no longer necessary. With the old operas being revived, their master-disciple relationship can now be openly displayed to everyone.

Then Chen Xiangdong winked at Lin Gouwa and chuckled maliciously, "Gouwa, want to learn a quick way to do the splits?"