RBCT Chapter 22: He got his chance to shine as soon as he arrived at the propaganda team.
Chapter 22: He got his chance to shine as soon as he arrived at the propaganda team.
Back in his room, Xu Yang entered his personal residence.
I'm going to the propaganda team tomorrow.
Today I officially met Zhang Dahe. He's enthusiastic, straightforward, and seems to appreciate talent.
But precisely because of this, Xu Yang had to come up with something that could convince the public.
The song "Katyusha" was just a stepping stone.
To truly establish a foothold in the propaganda team, simply being able to play the harmonica is far from enough.
He pulled a light blue sheet music book from the drawer beside him, opened it to the first page, and began writing the score on it.
These days, while watching rehearsals at the opera house, one thought kept running through his mind.
Whether it's a propaganda team or a song and dance theater, the programs nowadays may be popular and mainstream, but their form and content will seem somewhat monotonous to people decades from now.
He had a lot of things on his computer. Classic songs that had been sung for decades, ingeniously arranged short plays, and even some crosstalk routines and clapper talk structures suitable for stage performances.
The only question is how to bring it out at the right time so that it doesn't seem abrupt.
After much deliberation, Xu Yang chose a sketch comedy script that resonated with the times.
His persona as a skilled writer is already well-established, so writing a short skit isn't a particularly abrupt performance.
After finishing copying, Xu Yang went straight to sleep.
The next morning, at exactly six o'clock.
Xu Yang had just finished washing up and came out of his room when he heard light footsteps coming from the hallway.
There was a knock on the door three times, and Liu Xiaoli's voice came from outside: "Xu Yang, are you up?"
"Get up." Xu Yang opened the door and glanced at Liu Xiaoli standing outside.
She was wearing the same clothes she wore the day before yesterday, and her face was beaming with a smile.
"Did you sleep well last night? You weren't so nervous that you couldn't sleep, were you?" Liu Xiaoli asked gently.
"I slept soundly until dawn," Xu Yang said with a smile.
"That's good. Let's go get some breakfast first, then ride our bikes to the propaganda team."
The Liu family doesn't have any extra bicycles right now, so they have to share one.
After all, it was quite a distance to the propaganda team, and Liu Xiaoli found it rather tiring to walk there.
Xu Yang did not refuse, after all, sharing a car was an ambiguous matter.
Who could resist the ambiguous behavior between Liu Xiaoli and others?
So he quickly went to get his bicycle.
The morning breeze was still a bit chilly. After getting into the car, Liu Xiaoli hid her face behind Xu Yang's back, her fingers gently clutching the fabric at his waist.
When the bicycle turned into the courtyard of the district cultural center, there were already people waiting at the entrance.
Zhang Dahe, wearing a clean blue Zhongshan suit, was talking to a young man holding an erhu.
Seeing Xu Yang ride in on his bike, he waved and his loud voice carried from afar: "Comrade Xu, you're here!"
Xu Yang propped up his bicycle, turned around, and waved to Liu Xiaoli.
She mouthed "Go for it!" to him, then took the bicycle and rode off towards the opera house.
Xu Yang straightened the collar of his Zhongshan suit and strode towards Zhang Dahe.
This was his first day officially joining the propaganda team, and he didn't know what his colleagues were like or whether they would be easy to get along with.
Xu Yang followed Zhang Dahe into the rehearsal hall of the cultural center.
The rehearsal hall was much smaller than the opera house, but the layout was similar. Mirrors hung on all four walls, and the floor was covered with dark red wooden flooring that creaked when stepped on.
There were already seven or eight people inside. Some were practicing their voices, some were stretching their legs, and a young man wearing glasses was squatting in the corner fixing a broken lamp.
Zhang Dahe clapped his hands, his voice booming like a bronze bell: "Comrades, come here for a moment! We have a new comrade in our propaganda team!"
Seven or eight pairs of eyes turned to look at them simultaneously.
Xu Yang stepped forward and bowed generously: "Greetings, seniors. My name is Xu Yang. Please take care of me in the future."
Before he could finish speaking, a girl with two short braids jumped over. It was Tian Chunmiao, who had taken the entrance exam with him yesterday.
Her voice was clear and bright: "Oh, you've finally arrived! I was completely mesmerized by your harmonica playing yesterday!"
Chen Zhiguo, who was playing the clapperboard, also came over, pushed up his glasses, and said in a serious tone, "Comrade Xu Yang, your breath control in that rendition of 'Katyusha' was so precise. I studied music theory for two years, let me tell you—"
"Alright, alright, don't start lecturing people right away," a middle-aged woman in her forties interrupted him with a laugh.
She was wearing a faded gray Lenin suit, her hair was neatly combed, and her gaze toward Xu Yang was gentle yet scrutinizing.
Zhang Dahe pointed to her and introduced her: "This is Comrade Zhou Yuqin, the deputy captain of our propaganda team. When I'm not around, she's the one who handles things in the team."
Xu Yang quickly bowed again: "Hello, Captain Zhou."
Zhou Yuqin smiled and nodded, but before she could speak, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from the doorway.
A young man rushed in, panting, clutching an official document in his hand, his face flushed: "Director Zhang! Something terrible has happened!"
Zhang Dahe frowned: "What's the panic? Speak slowly!"
The young man shoved the document into Zhang Dahe's hands, panting, and said, "I just received a notice that provincial leaders are coming down next Saturday to inspect cultural work, and they specifically requested to see our district's propaganda team's performance! They also said—"
He swallowed hard, his voice trembling: "They even said that propaganda teams from several other districts would be participating, making it practically a city-wide cultural performance! If we mess it up, the whole district will lose face!"
The rehearsal hall was quiet for a moment, then erupted into a cacophony of noise.
"Next Saturday? What day of the week is it today? That's only about seven or eight days away!"
"Are you kidding me? We only have a few old programs left. The lead dancer for 'Grassland Women Militia' was transferred last month, and we still haven't replaced her!"
"The accompaniment for 'Harvest Song' also had a problem; Old Sun, who plays the accordion, twisted his back and is still lying at home!"
Zhou Yuqin frowned, and said in a deep voice, "Shut up!"
She turned to look at Zhang Dahe, her voice low, but Xu Yang, who was close by, heard her clearly: "Old Zhang, this is difficult. Time is too tight, and our current programs are simply not enough for a performance. Even if we put together a show at the last minute, the quality can't be guaranteed. If other districts bring out new programs and we try to fool them with old stuff, the provincial leaders will see through it immediately."
Zhang Dahe's face was as dark as the bottom of a pot. He flipped through the official document twice, then looked up, his gaze sweeping around the rehearsal hall before finally settling on Xu Yang.
"Comrade Xiao Xu."
Xu Yang's heart skipped a beat: "Yes."
Zhang Dahe stared at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of eagerness and probing. "I heard you can also write scripts. Could you write one for us?"
Xu Yang understood instantly.
This is an opportunity.
An opportunity to rise to the top in one step.
He took a deep breath and said, word by word, "Director Zhang, I just finished writing a skit script last night, but I haven't shown it to anyone yet."
Zhang Dahe's eyes suddenly lit up, and Zhou Yuqin also turned her head, her eyes full of surprise.
"A skit? What skit?"