Pulling the Wool Over Their Eyes

Ge You passed the exam in the end, becoming a member of the All-China Federation of Trade Unions Art Troupe's drama company.

He wept tears of joy. At last, he wouldn't have to go back to feeding pigs and piglets. His monthly salary was 18 yuan, equivalent to an apprentice's. After a few years, it would rise to over 30 yuan. Without reform and opening up, he probably would have earned that for half his life.

There was a slogan at the time: "Long live 36 yuan!" It meant that wages never seemed to rise.

Ge You later became a major star, but he remained officially employed by the All-China Federation of Trade Unions Art Troupe, which continued to pay him a monthly salary. He occasionally took part in a stage play, a way of repaying them for taking him in back then.

Plenty of stars came out of the All-China Federation of Trade Unions Art Troupe, including the actress Saruna and Losang, a crosstalk performer who had once been wildly popular. Zeng Li also joined the organization after graduating from the Central Academy of Drama.

Whatever the case, Ge You had a proper job now and dared to hold his head high when he walked.

He wanted to treat Chen Qi and Liang Xiaosheng to a meal. With a pitiful handful of ration coupons obtained from who knew where, he ordered a plate of vegetables at a small restaurant, and they ate four steamed buns. He ate two himself.

It was already late May, and the weather was growing hotter.

That morning, Chen Qi changed into a polyester shirt, cotton trousers, and his cloth shoes with black uppers and red soles, then rode his bicycle to an area near Taoranting in Xuanwu District.

Polyester was stuffy, didn't absorb sweat, and wasn't comfortable to wear.

But textile manufacturing was poor these days, and cotton clothes were even rougher and uncomfortable too. As a compromise, he went with polyester. At least it looked a little sharper.

He parked his bicycle, leaned against a large willow tree, and waited silently with his hands in his pockets. Before long, a bus pulled up nearby, and Yu Jiajia appeared with a bag on her back.

Ever since "The Road of Life: How Should We Walk It?" had been published, Yu Jiajia had delivered several letters to him. They had gotten to know each other through those visits. This time, he had invited her out himself, and she was both excited and completely bewildered.

She was young, so the big news stories never fell to her. She was always writing about petty, trivial matters, and it was terribly dull.

"Reporter Yu, you're as gallant and dashing as ever!"

"Comrade Little Chen, you've still got your charms too!"

They shook hands, each regretting they hadn't met sooner, rather like a weasel meeting a chicken.

"Will your plan work?"

"What plan? This is already extremely crude. There's no skill to it at all."

"What if the newspaper finds out?"

"You're the lead reporter. The right of interpretation belongs to you."

The two went over what they were going to say, crossed the road, and entered a compound of single-story buildings opposite them. A sign hung at the entrance: Jingcheng Municipal Traditional Opera School!

The school had been established in 1952, originally as a private institution, founded on the initiative of a group of renowned traditional opera performers. Mei Lanfang was chairman of the board, while Hao Shouchen, Ma Lianliang, and others had served as principals. To build the school, famous performers from all over had put on benefit performances to raise money and come to teach for free.

Later, it became a public school, and the government allocated funds to it. Gradually, it settled into a stable footing.

Liu Shishi had studied ballet at this school as a child before getting into the Beijing Dance Academy. Of course, there was no dance program here at present, only Peking opera and regional opera.

"Comrades, who are you looking for?"

"Hello, sir. I'm a reporter from China Youth Daily!"

Yu Jiajia showed him her press credentials. It was her first time doing a private job, and she was a little nervous. "Are your leaders here?"

"Yes, yes! I'll go get someone for you!"

When the elderly man in the gatehouse saw that she was a reporter, and from China Youth Daily at that, his excitement visibly rose. Before long, a teacher came over. The teacher was even more enthusiastic and ushered them inside.

Chen Qi looked around the school. The grounds were quite large, and there were dormitories too. The buildings were all very old, and the place was steeped in the atmosphere of the fifties.

"Our facilities are modest. I'm afraid you'll laugh at us."

"Have some tea... uh, have some water..."

Once they were inside, the teacher had intended to make tea, but couldn't find any tea leaves. He smiled awkwardly, and Yu Jiajia quickly waved a hand. "Please, don't trouble yourself. Have a seat too. Here's the thing: the city has set up quite a few educated-youth cooperatives this year. You know about them, right?"

"Yes, yes. A relative's child works at one."

"A group of young people toiling from dawn to dusk-it isn't easy, and they face discrimination from society too. But these cooperatives really have made life more convenient for ordinary people. Buying water, having clothes made, things like that are much easier than before. To show our respect, we've thought up a small event to give those young people some encouragement.

"This comrade here is from the Dashilar Subdistrict Cooperative!"

Yu Jiajia introduced Chen Qi. He hurriedly greeted the teacher and said, "You've probably heard of our cooperative. We sell tea at Qianmen."

"I have, I have. I read that article. Oh, what a coincidence!"

"What we had in mind was for your school to send a few students to perform at the cooperative, to cheer them on and boost their spirits. We'll cover the travel expenses and provide lunch, and then Reporter Yu will give you some publicity."

"Publicity? You mean?"

"In the newspaper!"

"Oh, you'll put us in the paper? Why didn't you say so sooner..."

The teacher's eyes lit up like light bulbs. "That's a good thing. I'll go get the director!"

He hurried out, and before long, a middle-aged man came in. After hearing Yu Jiajia's explanation, he was delighted too, but he asked, "Why didn't you approach a performing arts troupe, or those famous performers?"

"The cooperatives are all made up of educated youth. Just think: a group of young men and women on one side, and a bunch of elderly performers in their seventies and eighties on the other. They wouldn't match. What we want is youthful vitality. We'll call the event 'A Salute to Youth, Labor Is Glorious.'"

"That makes sense. I understand what you mean: a performance to show support."

"Exactly!"

"About how many days?"

"I'll report on it first and see how it goes. If it goes well, we'll write an internal report and submit it to the leaders. These young people are part of the new era too, setting a new tone..."

Yu Jiajia was extraordinarily gifted. As she went on, even she began to believe it.

China Youth Daily was the newspaper of the Central Committee of the Communist Youth League, a fairly high-level publication. Who would have imagined that one of its reporters was doing a private job?

The director had already agreed, but he couldn't make the decision himself; they had to hold a meeting to discuss it. So the two left, went out for lunch, and returned that afternoon to pick the performers.

The school had an eight-year program. The youngest students were eleven or twelve, and the oldest were eighteen or nineteen.

Its main programs were Peking opera, Pingju, Quju, and Hebei Bangzi. In later years, it partnered with the Deyun Society and opened a crosstalk program. Boss Gao, Gao Feng, came to teach; no one else could have taught it. The others were working as idols, with Deyun girls fawning over them.

"We don't know anyone, so please choose. But they should look presentable, since there'll be photographs."

Yu Jiajia gave the teacher a quiet reminder. He indicated that he understood, thought it over, and began calling names.

These children attended classes during the day and lived at school at night. They didn't eat well, and they had few opportunities to perform, so life was terribly monotonous. Now, seeing a chance to perform, they were eager to try, even if it was only for a cooperative.

The teacher picked a few older students and a few younger ones, covering every program, then suddenly called out:

"Liu Bei!"

"Here!"

A girl in her early teens raised her hand high. She had thick eyebrows and large eyes, and her face was full of excitement.

Huh???

Chen Qi took a closer look, his expression turning subtle. "Teacher, how old is this child? She looks too young."

"She entered the school at ten and is twelve this year. She studies the Mei School, and she looks very presentable."

"Oh, all right. Your choice stands."

Chen Qi said no more and unconsciously rubbed his nose.

First Jiang Shan, now Liu Bei. What is this? Am I raising children in this life?

(End of chapter)