High-Pitched Singing

In the Kuanzhai Alley of Chengdu, the old stage has been standing for half a century. The Yusheng Troupe, which was once popular throughout Sichuan and Chongqing, passed into the hands of Lin Yan. All that was left was a red sandalwood theater box, three veteran artists, and three months of unpaid rent. My grandfather passed away suddenly, leaving behind half of the "Hundred-Facial Mask Book" and a blank face mask. Lin Yan has mastered twelve face-changing techniques, but he only knows their shapes, and he still cannot understand the saying "change your face before you change your heart". Commercial performance invitations and demolition announcements come at the same time. Should you change your face to an attention-grabbing juggling act to survive, or should you stick to the rules and wait for death? On the empty stage, for the first time, he could not clearly see himself under the makeup. The hidden mezzanine of the theater box brings out the past: during the disaster relief benefit performance in the 1990s, my grandfather changed the score on the spot, and the performance of "Hundred Faces of Change" was a failure. Since then, he has sealed the box and retired, never mentioning the non-identical facial makeup. The secret pain of the ancestors and the current choices are intertwined in the oil paint. Hundreds of facial masks play out the loyal and traitorous characters, and they remain true to their true feelings in all kinds of changes. The answer to the mystery is revealed, and Lin Yan realizes: The best technique is not to be fast or to do more, but to still be able to keep one's heart and recognize oneself despite all the changes. The gongs and drums of the old stage are ringing loudly, and centuries-old skills are taking new steps in the tide of the times.