Returning to the county opera troupe in 77

The list of instructors for the training class has finally been finalized: the singing and recitation instructors are Lu Meiyin and Pan Lanxiang, and the basic skills and physical training instructors are He Jianshe and Qiao Haizhu.

As for the instrumental music class, since there were too few students enrolled, with only Liu Qiaosheng's nephew Liu Guoqi as the only child, a separate class was not held. Instead, the students practiced together with the actors' class.

Liu Dezhu, the nominal music teacher, was left without any instructor.

It's better if there are no students; he's actually happy to have some free time. When there are rehearsals and performances, he'll play the drums, and when he's not doing anything, he'll stroll around the troupe's courtyard and the theater with his hands behind his back.

Apart from Feng Zhengxiao and Fang Zhengsheng, no one in the entire troupe knew that Chen Xiangdong could already type out complete excerpts of operas; even Liu Dezhu was completely unaware of it.

One evening, as Liu Dezhu strolled to the theater to have a drink with Feng Zhengxiao, carrying a paper bag containing braised pig's trotters, a familiar drumbeat emanating from Old Fang's small room made him pause, standing at the doorway in astonishment.

He stood outside the door, straining his ears to listen intently to the drumbeats coming from inside. His eyes widened in disbelief: Jue Long Ridge?!

He was certain that the person drumming was not Lin Datou; that lousy drummer's beat was never steady, and it was impossible for him to be beating it so skillfully.

But besides myself and Lin Datou, who else in the troupe knows how to play the drums?

Moreover, the play "Jue Long Ling" has not been performed much lately.

The younger generation hadn't heard of it, so they naturally wouldn't have knocked. Could it be that the people inside were from Feng Laohei's generation?

Just as Liu Dezhu was filled with doubt and uncertainty, the drumming in the room suddenly stopped, followed by Feng Zhengxiao's voice: "You idiot, you're making a racket again!"

There was a moment of silence in the room, then a voice rang out, leaving Liu Dezhu speechless with astonishment.

"Hey Blackie, don't be in such a hurry. I'm not doing anything else this month, I'll just focus on practicing this part, okay?"

Liu Dezhu recognized the slightly young and immature voice; it belonged to his apprentice, Chen Xiangdong!

Almost instinctively, he reached out and pushed open the door.

As the door creaked open, the three people inside all looked over.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Chen Xiangdong was taken aback: "Master?"

Liu Dezhu walked in with a stern face, glanced at the drumsticks clutched in Chen Xiangdong's hand, his expression unreadable, and said in a low voice, "I was wondering who was drumming in the house, it turns out to be you, you little brat. You've really given me a big surprise."

"What?" Feng Zhengxiao glanced at him coldly. "I had the kid do the staging of this play. You have a problem with that?"

Liu Dezhu glanced at the somewhat bewildered Chen Xiangdong, but couldn't help but smile: "I'm not the first to know that my apprentice can type out a complete opera excerpt. Do you think I have a problem with that?"

He pointed at the anxious Chen Xiangdong and laughed, "You coward! If you want to improve your drum rhythm, why don't you ask your master? Instead, you're arguing with these two old geezers? When it comes to drumming, do you think they're more professional than me?"

Hearing Liu Dezhu scold him, Chen Xiangdong felt relieved and said with a forced smile, "I just wanted to practice this part well so I could surprise you later."

"It was a pleasant surprise, but also quite a shock."

Liu Dezhu smacked his lips: "Luckily, no one knows you practice drums, otherwise you'd be in trouble..."

Before he could finish speaking, he couldn't help but glance at Feng Zhengxiao's face.

Sure enough, a subtle, unnatural change flashed across Feng Zhengxiao's dark face.

Back then, Feng Zhengxiao suffered a lot because he performed in this play and was deliberately made a role model by someone with ulterior motives. It was after that that the famous painted-face actor who was famous in northern Shaanxi became disheartened, left Dongping County, and began to wander around the Northwest.

That past event was the one that Feng Laohei least wanted to mention in his life.

"Close the door, close the door, the wind is blowing in."

Whether intentionally or not, Old Fang tapped the table with his jar and muttered something.

Liu Dezhu said "Oh," turned around, closed the door, and even pulled the latch on. Feng Zhengxiao pretended to cough, glanced at the oil paper package that Liu Dezhu had placed on the table, and chuckled, "You actually went to buy braised pig's trotters?"

"So what do you say?"

Liu Dezhu plopped down, tearing open the oil paper package with both hands. He said irritably, "I just bought these from the state-run food store. These two pig trotters cost me one yuan and fifty cents! Luckily, He Jianshe's wife works at the food store and didn't take my meat coupons, otherwise I would have been in real pain. These aren't just pig trotters, they're worth more than my own trotters!"

Old Fang didn't even wipe his hands. He grabbed a piece of chopped pig's hoof and stuffed it into his mouth, muttering indistinctly, "Your dog paws are useless, no one would want them even if you chopped them up. But pig's hoof is different. Pig's hoof with wine, the more you drink, the better you feel."

"Huh? How dare you talk like that, old man? I'm the top drummer in our troupe. Whether this play is good or not depends entirely on how I play it."

Liu Dezhu pretended to be angry and made a move to take the bag of braised pig's trotters, but Feng Zhengxiao, who was quick-witted and agile, grabbed him and gave Chen Xiangdong a wink: "What are you still standing there for? Sit down and eat."

Chen Xiangdong chuckled and approached the table, picking up a piece and chewing: "This braised pig's trotter is really good, chewy and springy. In a couple of days, Master Qin will have to go to the food station to buy vegetables. When that happens, I'll get some spicy pig's trotters for Master Hei and Master Fang to try. I guarantee you've never had them before."

Upon hearing this, Feng Zhengxiao and Old Fang nodded with smiles, while Liu Dezhu rolled his eyes and muttered, "Are you my apprentice or these two old bastards' apprentice? You can't even tell which side to serve, you idiot!"

What was said in jest was taken seriously by the listener. Feng Zhengxiao's jaw, which was chewing on a pig's trotter, stiffened for a moment. His eyes swept over Chen Xiangdong, who was engrossed in gnawing on the trotter beside him, and a strange light flashed in his eyes.

Old Fang was also somewhat tempted. After spending these past few days with Chen Xiangdong, he discovered that the boy possessed an indomitable spirit, even somewhat resembling himself in his younger days…

But the thought only flashed through his mind before he forcibly suppressed it. He glanced down at his crippled leg, then silently lowered his head, chewing away without a sound.

Liu Dezhu spat out a bone, then familiarly picked up Old Fang's wine barrel, poured himself a small bowl of sorghum wine, and as if suddenly remembering something, looked at Chen Xiangdong: "By the way, I haven't asked you yet, where did you learn the old opera drum scores?"

Ever since that day he accompanied Feng Zhengxiao to play "The Dragon Ridge," Chen Xiangdong had already prepared his response. He chewed on meat, not even raising his head:

"Master, have you forgotten? The wooden box under your bed is full of all kinds of opera drum scores."

Liu Dezhu was taken aback: "I locked the wooden box, did you pick the lock?"

Chen Xiangdong grinned slyly: "Why would we need to pry it open? The key's right under your pillow!"

"Hey!"

Liu Dezhu's eyes widened: "You little brat! Looks like I can't let you practice drums in my room anymore, you've seen all my secrets."

He paused, then continued, "From now on, you'll come to this theater to practice drums, and I'll teach you here. Anyway, when there are no performances, this place is so deserted it could haunt a ghost. Let's come here together, so that your Uncle Fang won't drink himself to death and have no one to collect his body."

"You wicked coward, you can't expect anything good to come out of your dog mouth!"

Old Fang slammed his fist on the table in anger, puffing out his beard and glaring, "You're the one who'll drink yourself to death! I'll live to be a hundred!"

As soon as he said it, everyone in the room, including Old Man Fang himself, couldn't help but burst into laughter.