Entertainment and culture in those days started with cultural propaganda teams.

Chapter 25 Leaders Visit

By the third day of rehearsals, the basic structure of the skit had been established.

Xu Yang adjusted the blocking again and meticulously worked out the rhythm of the final group scene four or five times.

He clapped his hands only after each character's finishing movement was perfectly timed: "Alright, that's enough for today. We'll rest tomorrow, go through it again the day after, and then have the official performance tonight."

Li Dazhuang put the enamel mug on the table and wiped the sweat from his face: "Director Xu, you're too steady. I heard that other districts are still working overtime to catch up, but we're doing well, taking a break two days early."

"Sharpening your axe won't delay your work." Xu Yang put the script into his bag. "You're already in the right state of mind. Practicing any longer will only make you tired. Rest for a day, and you'll be more energetic and effective the day after tomorrow."

Zhou Yuqin listened from the side and nodded secretly.

She has seen many young people who, once they have a bit of talent, want to push them to their limits, training actors until they vomit before they're satisfied.

Xu Yang is different; he knows when to tighten his grip and when to loosen it.

This level of skill and experience shouldn't be found in a young man in his early twenties.

"Then let's listen to Xiao Xu and rest tomorrow," Zhou Yuqin decided.

Xu Yang pushed his bicycle out of the cultural center and rode towards the opera house.

Liu Xiaoli said today that rehearsal ended early, and we made plans to go back together.

When he arrived at the entrance of the opera house, Liu Xiaoli was already waiting there.

She changed back into the floral shirt, her hair braided into a loose plait and draped over her shoulder. When she saw Xu Yang riding his bike over in the distance, she waved to him.

"Why are you here so early today?" Xu Yang parked his car in front of her.

"Teacher Fang said I've been in good shape these past few days, so she told me to come back early to rest and recharge for the next performance." Liu Xiaoli jumped onto the back seat and, without hesitation, immediately put her arm around Xu Yang's waist.

Xu Yang pedaled his bike and joined the evening stream of bicycles.

The evening breeze swept across the river, carrying a hint of fishy smell and the sweet fragrance of locust blossoms by the roadside.

"How are your preparations for the performance going?" Liu Xiaoli asked from behind.

"That's about it. The official performance will be the night after tomorrow."

Are you nervous?

"I'm not nervous," Xu Yang said. "If I mess up, it's my own problem, and it won't affect anyone else."

Liu Xiaoli pinched his waist lightly, like being scratched by a cat's paw: "What are you saying? It'll definitely work. My third aunt said that even Comrade Liu praised the skit you put on in the propaganda team."

"Your third aunt is quite well-informed."

"Of course, what can be kept from her in the Cultural Bureau?" Liu Xiaoli's tone carried a hint of smugness, as if she were the one being praised.

Xu Yang smiled, pushed off with his foot, and the car sped out through the shade of the sycamore trees. Liu Xiaoli cried out "Ah!" and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

Neither of them spoke again.

As the bicycle turned into the gate of the residential compound, Grandpa Zhao from the gatehouse poked his head out, saw the distance between Liu Xiaoli on the back seat and the two people on the back seat, clicked his tongue meaningfully, and then retreated back behind his newspaper.

On the night of the performance, the auditorium of the district cultural palace was packed with people.

The first three rows were provincial and municipal leaders, and the rear rows were members of the propaganda teams from various districts and their families.

The stage lights shone brightly, making the red curtain glow.

The programs from the previous districts aired one after another.

There were choral performances of "We Workers Have Strength," dances of "Harvest Dance," and a short play staged by a district, telling the story of educated youth settling down in the countryside. The actors on stage were crying their eyes out, and several older comrades in the audience also took off their glasses and wiped their eyes.

Xu Yang sat in a corner backstage and wiped his harmonica for the third time.

"Comrade Xu Yang, aren't you going to go and take a look ahead?" Tian Chunmiao came over, her face made up, her eyebrows drawn thick and black, looking a bit comical.

"I'm not watching anymore, the more I watch, the more nervous I get," Xu Yang lied. He wasn't nervous at all; he just didn't want to waste his attention on someone else's show. He was mentally going over the final rehearsals for "Cheering Up."

Zhang Dahe squeezed in from the side of the curtain, his expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness: "We're next. Minister Han from the province is here in person, sitting right in the middle of the first row. Xiao Xu, this is no small matter, do you realize that?"

"I know." Xu Yang stood up, stuffed his harmonica into his pocket, and turned to clap his hands at the four actors.

"Come on, stretch out your hands."

Five hands stacked together.

"Be positive, be funny, and don't forget your lines," Xu Yang said.

"Positive, funny, don't forget the lyrics!" The four of them repeated in unison.

When the curtain was drawn back, the stage lights were so bright that it was hard to open one's eyes.

Xu Yang stood behind the side curtain and watched as Li Dazhuang was the first to walk onto the stage. He was wearing borrowed old work clothes, holding an enamel mug in his hand. As soon as he sat down at the work table, his whole demeanor changed instantly.

There was a moment of silence in the audience, and then the first line came out: Li Dazhuang's line, "This machine is just like a person. If you coax it, it will coax you," was laced with the slickness and helplessness of an old worker, with a slight upward slant at the end of the sentence. A leader in the first row chuckled.

Xu Yang felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

This laughter is the prelude.

Next, the burdens were revealed one by one.

When Chen Zhiguo, the intellectual technician, pushed up his glasses, his fingers trembled. He was so startled by his own bold idea that he stood up and sat down repeatedly, while the laughter from the audience never stopped.

When Tian Chunmiao flicked the rag and put her hands on her hips, several women laughed so hard they slapped their thighs.

Sun Jianjun's final monologue, reciting "All we have to do is breathe," was delivered with such force that the laughter from the audience gradually subsided, and some began to applaud.

When the final group portrait was captured, the four people stood side by side in front of the worktable, the lights shining on their backs, casting four long shadows on the stage.

The audience was silent for a full three seconds.

Then applause broke out.

Minister Han, who was in the first row, stood up and clapped his two thick hands loudly and heavily. Several other leaders next to him also stood up.

The audience behind them all stood up, and applause surged toward the stage like a tidal wave.

Xu Yang was pushed up from behind the side curtain.

Zhang Dahe's grip was so strong that he almost stumbled.

Four actors surrounded him, and Li Dazhuang simply picked him up and carried him on his back.

"Fantastic! Brilliant! Absolutely fantastic!" someone shouted from the audience.

Xu Yang was placed in the center of the stage and bowed to the audience.

The lights were too bright for him to see the faces of the people in the audience, but he did see He Hui—she was sitting in the second row by the aisle, clapping enthusiastically, her smile as bright as if it were Chinese New Year.

After the event, Minister Han specifically asked someone to call Zhang Dahe and Xu Yang to the backstage lounge.

Minister Han was an elderly comrade in his early sixties, with gray hair, but he stood very straight, and his eyes were bright and piercing under his thick eyebrows.

He held Xu Yang's hand and looked him up and down.

"Young man, did you write this 'Cheer Up' notebook?"

"Yes, Minister."

How old are you?

"eighteen."

Minister Han chuckled and turned to the staff member beside him, saying, "Did you hear that? Eighteen years old. To be able to write a script like this and direct a play like this at eighteen—that's talent, a treasure on our arts and culture front."

He turned back, patted Xu Yang on the shoulder, and said, "Comrade Xu, keep up the good work. Your approach is correct. We should perform what the people like to see. Even positive and uplifting things can be told in a lighthearted and humorous way."

Xu Yang nodded: "Thank you for your encouragement, Minister. I will continue to work hard."

After Minister Han left, Zhang Dahe plopped down in a chair, took off his glasses, and wiped his eyes. This time, he wasn't smiling; he was excited.

"Xiao Xu, our propaganda team has never been specifically praised by provincial leaders since its inception. You're the first."

Before Xu Yang could speak, the door to the lounge was pushed open again.

Officer Liu leaned halfway in, holding his black leather notebook in his hand.