Returning to the county opera troupe in 77

Chapter 118 A Grand Show Watched by Three Thousand People

As dusk fell, a dense crowd had already gathered in front of the commune compound. In the open space in front of the stage, people were packed tightly together, with stools next to benches, leaving no room to even put one's feet down.

Looking further back, a row of teenagers sat on the wall, their legs dangling in mid-air, while several daring young men rode on the locust tree, craning their necks to look towards the stage.

Even the dirt road at the entrance of the compound was packed with people. Some were standing on tiptoe on the back of bicycles, while others were simply standing on the dirt slopes on the ridges of the fields next to them, peering ahead.

A sea of ​​black heads stretched from the stage all the way to the end of the dirt road, like an endless field of crops.

Han Wenxue stood to the side of the stage, craning his neck to look ahead, his palms sweaty. His face was flushed, and his lips trembled as he stammered, "Oh my god! How come there are so many people! My goodness, how many are there? A thousand? Two thousand? Or three thousand?"

His voice was slightly unsteady, as if he was stunned by the scene.

Twenty years have passed since he joined the troupe at the age of seventeen. Over the years, he has traveled with the troupe to villages and towns, braving wind and rain. The stage has been dismantled and rebuilt, and people have come and gone on and off the stage, but he has never seen so many people come to watch their performance.

Even ten years ago, when the troupe was at its most popular, the number of people who came was about the same as when Feng Zhengxiao sang "Zhan Dantong" last time. The audience was a sea of ​​black, with a scale of over a thousand people. That was already an insurmountable peak in their minds.

But the scene before us is hardly a force of a thousand or so people.

Zhu Zhengwei, standing beside him, was equally excited, his hands trembling, and his throat tightening as he spoke: "Old Han, did you see that?! Our troupe is really going to be a hit!"

Han Wenxue nodded, his eyes shining: "I, I'll go tell the actors to get ready to go on stage! Don't keep our bread and butter waiting."

After saying that, he turned around and ran towards the backstage dressing room, his cotton shoes making a "thump-thump" sound on the table, as if he wanted to rush into the backstage area in one step.

The veteran artists had been waiting for this performance for a long time.

Xue Rong and Mo Qingyan sat in front of the dressing table, already made up and dressed in the costumes of Hu Fenglian and Madam Tian. They were silently reciting their lines in front of the small round mirror in their hands.

This scene requires more than twenty actors. Mao Shidao plays Lu Shikuan, Feng Zhengxiao plays Lu Lin, and Han Zhengkui plays Tian Yuchuan. At this moment, they are each in a corner, silently reviewing their lines.

Other actors such as He Jianshe, Ma Dongmei, Lu Meiyin, and Pan Lanxiang also participated. Although they did not have long scenes, they were also indispensable and important characters in this play, "Touring Guishan".

To ensure a perfect performance, Xue Rong specifically required everyone to strictly follow the old opera troupe's rules for going on stage: no meals four hours before the performance, and no water two hours before going on stage.

Zhu Zhengguo had also informed Secretary Li of the commune in advance that the celebration dinner tonight would be held after the performance.

"Whoosh!"

The canvas curtain was suddenly flung open, and everyone's eyes turned to look. Han Wenxue leaned half his body into the dressing room, took a deep breath, and then nodded solemnly: "Get ready to go on stage."

On the side of the stage, Chen Xiangdong, Li Mancang, and Lin Gouwa stared intently at the stage entrance, eagerly anticipating the veteran artists' next performance.

As director Liu Qiaosheng announced the title of the play "Touring Guishan", the noisy commotion in the audience quickly subsided like a receding tide. From the front row to the back, from the open space in front of the stage to the end of the dirt road, all the sounds faded away layer by layer, leaving only quiet gazes throughout the audience.

Thousands of eyes were fixed on the slowly opening curtain on the stage.

Suddenly, the slow, rhythmic beat of gongs and drums came from behind the side curtain: "Da Da, Cang Cai, Cang Cai, Yi Cang Cai, the curtain is drawn back, and Han Zhengkui, playing Tian Yuchuan, stepped onto the stage to the rhythm, dressed in a scholar's cap and a moon-white pleated robe, looking like a refined and heroic young man."

"Tian Yuchuan is eighteen years old. His father is an official in the court, guarding the border."

The moment she opened her mouth, everyone's attention was immediately drawn to her clear, articulate, and unhurried singing style.

Jiang Dashuan, sitting in the first row, recognized Han Zhengkui at a glance and slapped his thigh with a laugh: "Ha! It's Han Wuchou!"

His shout was exceptionally loud in the quiet audience. Several members around him turned to glare at him, someone in the back row shushed him, and the woman in the green headscarf sitting next to him gave him a fierce look.

Jiang Dashuan blushed instantly, chuckled sheepishly, and shrank back.

As the plot unfolded, Lu Shih-kuan appeared, his clown-like appearance—crooked hat, rat whiskers, slanted eyes, and pursed lips—caused the audience to erupt in laughter as soon as he took two steps.

Mao Shidao took small, quick steps, uttered slick, oily lines, and tucked his hands into his sleeves, vividly portraying a spoiled brat who bullies others.

Seeing his master on stage, who could elicit laughter from the audience with a mere sideways glance and a crooked mouth, Lin Gouwa stood to the side of the stage, reached out and touched his own bald head, his eyes shining. For the first time, he truly understood: this was what a clown was all about!

No need to put on airs or keep a straight face, just standing there, your whole being is a performance!

Before the laughter had even subsided, Hu Fenglian's cry of "Your Excellency, please grant me this!" gripped the hearts of everyone present. Mo Qingyan knelt in the center of the stage, her voice shifting from clear to sorrowful, conveying to everyone her stubborn determination to seek justice even at the cost of her life.

A group of women began to quietly wipe their eyes, while several old men in the front row put down their pipes, their Adam's apples bobbing as if they were swallowing back the words "What a terrible thing!"

The entire play was full of twists and turns, and the audience was completely captivated by the plot.

The drumbeats came in bursts, sometimes sparse, sometimes dense. It was as if the people on stage poured all the emotions that had been pent up for ten years into their singing. Whether it was Xue Rong and Mo Qingyan, the two protagonists who were the focus of everyone's attention tonight, or the supporting actors such as Mao Shidao, Han Zhengkui, and Fang Zhengsheng, they were all giving their all to perform their respective roles.

Cheers and applause resounded all night, seemingly trying to tear a hole in the somber sky.

That night, the entire Red Star Commune seemed to be scorched by an invisible fire. The first shot of the old play's comeback made a name for itself!

Chen Xiangdong stood quietly to the side of the stage, watching the curtain fall from the beginning.

He saw Xue Rong and the others return to the stage several times during the curtain call, their excitement and joy barely concealed. He also saw Mao Shidao, after leaving the stage, with red eyes, take off his crooked hat, squat behind the side curtain, and not get up for a long time.

There was sweat, there were tears, and there was laughter —

He let out a long sigh, and as he turned around, he secretly wiped the corner of his eye when no one was looking. Then, he chuckled and lightly kicked Li Mancang's butt: "Finished acting? Still spacing out? Come on, let's go to the cafeteria for lunch. Hurry up, Gouwa, that sly fellow, is smarter than anyone else. He's already run off to wait for lunch."

Li Mancang paused for a moment, then, seeing Chen Xiangdong already walking forward, he rubbed his backside and asked, "Brother Xiangdong, do you think—our old opera has truly come back to life?"

Chen Xiangdong waved his hand without turning his head: "Whether it's alive or dead, didn't you see it with your own eyes?"

Li Mancang's lips slowly curled into a smile, and he quickly followed, calling out, "Hey! Wait for me!"