Seeing this, Meng Tianye immediately grew restless. Just as he was about to go onstage and bail Cheng Lang out, Wang pressed a hand to his shoulder.
"Don't worry. Cheng Lang can handle a little scene like this. This is his performance style. His audience likes heckling him like this," Wang Liu'an explained with a smile.
"Really?" Meng Tianye's eyes widened in disbelief. He had left too early and was no longer familiar with Cheng Lang's performance style.
"Of course it's true." Wang Liu'an barely managed to reassure Meng Tianye before eagerly turning his attention back to Cheng Lang's crosstalk performance. "Just listen if you don't believe me."
"People only ever hear newcomers laugh; when have they ever seen old flames weep?" Cheng Lang sighed forlornly, guitar in hand. "I never expected you all to be so devoted. You see an old flame smile, and you want to hear the newcomer cry."
"Boo!" A group of customers below, who had been making up the numbers with their booing, started heckling again.
"Truly, morals were declining and people's hearts were no longer what they used to be!" Cheng Lang shook his head and lamented. His long fingers plucked at the strings, producing a smooth, mournful excerpt from Meng Jiangnu Weeps at the Great Wall. It was even an altered-key guitar version.
A customer below called out, "Are you trying to do Peking opera, folk music, or maybe some rock too?"
Cheng Lang said, "I'll do a phone shake for everyone!"
As he spoke, he actually set down his guitar, pulled out his phone, opened WeChat, and shook it vigorously.
The customers below instantly erupted, holding up their phones. "Shake me! Shake me!"
Cheng Lang shook his phone for ages but didn't match with anyone. He picked it up and looked at