“Remember, there's no such thing as a good man in the crosstalk business.”
“If you don't take the stage, you'll be a nobody until the day you die.”
Those were the two sentences Tong Fuhai heard most often at Fuxing Crosstalk House. Of course, he hadn't yet earned the right to be called Tong Fuhai. He was just Tong Hai.
Watching a young man get kicked out because he couldn't recite a section of rapid-fire patter, Tong Hai felt conflicted. These people must really love crosstalk.
Tong Hai loved crosstalk, too. But ever since a few famous performers had brought the art back into the spotlight, there had been plenty of young people who loved crosstalk, but very few willing to put in the work.
Wang Guangshan was strict, but he wasn't wrong. If you love something, you should work hard at it. It might be your dream, but it's also your livelihood, your job. This place has no room for people who won't put in the effort.
Onstage, the performers gave it their all. The audience filled every seat. Tong Hai watched, entranced, and listened, spellbound.
It really brought to mind that line from Farewell My Concubine: how many beatings did it take to become a star?
How many more years would the young people sitting in the wings have to endure before they could take the stage?
Theme: In the selfish world of crosstalk, Tong Fuhai and his junior fellow apprentice Qi Fulai rely on each other
