“Ugh, it won’t be exactly what I’m thinking, will it? The magistrate getting…” “This story will take about two hours to finish,” Qi Shejiang remarked. Sure enough, without realizing it, it was almost nine o’clock; they needed to wash up and go to bed. Everyone reluctantly stood up. “Then tomorrow, okay? You’ll continue the story tomorrow night!” “Wait!” Qi Shejiang suddenly shouted. Everyone paused, looking at him in confusion. Qi Shejiang lifted the pot lid. “Everyone, the pot is waiting to be opened at home.” “Puhaha.” Everyone laughed, but coming over, they hadn’t brought much money with them; it was all money earned on the spot, squeezing out five or ten yuan to put into Qi Shejiang’s pot lid. The villagers who came to visit did the same, tossing in thirty or fifty yuan.
Qí Shèjiāng finished his round and collected about seventy or eighty bucks, feeling pretty happy as he put it away. “Thank you, everyone! We’re having meat to eat tomorrow.” …… Life in the countryside flies by quickly. Before they knew it, there were just three days left, and soon it was time to go back. One guest sighed, “I have no regrets being here, but one thing—I really want to hear how Jesse’s story ended! I’ve been thinking about how it was left hanging for the past few days.”
He just wouldn’t say what happened next.” Everyone else agreed. They had intended to continue the story the next day, but with the daily activities and needing enough footage, they never had the chance to sit together like that again to listen to a story. Just like the audience at the teahouse who heard Qí Shèjiāng’s half-told story, they were itching to know how it turned out. That punchline really trapped them! Qí Shèjiāng didn’t mind sharing; it’s just that solo performances can be a bit of a trick—the art of street performance relies on excitement, punchlines, and keeping the audience hooked.
When the audience is engrossed and eager to know the outcome, he leaves them hanging to ask for tips, only continuing the story once he has the money in hand. But because stories often pursue thrills, many narratives don’t logically resolve themselves, requiring the performer to supplement with their delivery. If he just casually mentioned what happened next without a full performance, the audience would be very disappointed, possibly feeling it was a letdown.
The elder earnestly remarked, “Since the new society started, I haven’t seen anyone keep people’s appetites like you!”
” …… Not to mention the elder; when the first episode aired later, besides the contentious narrative between Qí Shèjiāng and Zhāng Yuē, the audience talked most about the segment where Qí Shèjiāng performed his xiàngsheng. After watching, the audience collectively broke down: “What happened to the promised laid-back farming variety show? Why am I watching a continuous cliffhanger in realism!?”
Chapter Thirteen On the way back, since they were both heading to the capital, Guānshān Band and Qí Shèjiāng not only were on the same flight but also sat next to each other, which was a coincidence because they had selected their seats randomly. Zhōu Dòng half-jokingly said, “Old Zhāng, are you going to switch seats with me?” Zhāng Yuē shot him a glare and took his seat first. Qí Shèjiāng asked, “Can I sit on the aisle?” Zhāng Yuē looked at him expressionlessly. Qí Shèjiāng honestly said, “I want to see the clouds.” He had only flown on a plane a couple of times before and was still in the wonder-filled stage.
“
Zhāng Yuē twitched his mouth; he thought Qí Shèjiāng was joking. He stifled a laugh and moved to the aisle seat, saying, “Look, enjoy it well.” Qí Shèjiāng sat by the window and stared outside from takeoff, even becoming intensely focused. Zhāng Yuē found it strange; how beautiful could the clouds be to warrant such a long gaze? He felt a bit sleepy, but Qí Shèjiāng’s inexplicable seriousness made him hesitant to disturb him. Not having brought an eye mask, Zhāng Yuē casually pulled out a blanket, draping it over himself, partially covering his face as he dozed off. Zhāng Yuē slept very soundly, not even waking up for meals. It wasn’t until they landed that Qí Shèjiāng nudged him awake. His hair was tousled as he stood up in a daze, then realized and asked Qí Shèjiāng, “You didn’t watch the clouds for hours, did you?” Qí Shèjiāng replied, “How many hours did you sleep?” Zhāng Yuē: “…” “No worries, my mom arranged it. She’s back in the capital,” Qí Shèjiāng said. Just as they got in the car, the assistant came to him and said, “Jesse, look at this.” Qí Shèjiāng took his assistant’s phone and was shocked to find that just half an hour after he had gotten off the plane, news had already come out.
【Dian Dian Entertainment: Netizens report that Qí Shèjiāng had a chance encounter with Guānshān Band on the plane. Zhāng Yuē and Qí Shèjiāng were seated together, both appearing stern and not speaking a word, even unwilling to face each other.】 Attached was a short video, three full minutes of Qí Shèjiāng continuously turning to stare out the window while Zhāng Yuē half-covered his head and face, leaning away, not saying a word, and they didn’t make eye contact at all.
Qí Shèjiāng was incredulously amused, “Isn’t this just nonsense?” He never imagined he had been filmed on the plane. After thinking about it, he realized he had been staring outside, which likely led to that misunderstanding. Such speculation reminded him of certain newspapers from eighty years ago; some things really hadn’t changed.
But this misunderstanding is impossible to clear up.
Who would believe that Jesse and Zhang Youzhen have no deep grudges against each other and have even laughed together, making friends?
“Hmmm… I’m fine, not tired.” Qi Zhi Jiang told the truth.
At first, he thought it might be a bit tiring, but later he realized that the farm equipment was so advanced that it was incredibly easy to use. As for the daily tasks of picking vegetables, chopping firewood, lighting fires, and cooking rice, they were all too trivial to mention.
He hadn’t learned how to farm, and his family had always been entertainers, but these kinds of tasks were all basic living skills, so he couldn’t be considered tired.
“Take a few days off at home and we’ll find you another good program this time, and you’ll definitely like it,” Summer Oneiophora said with a smile.
Sure enough, Summer Oneiophora went on to say, “You’re going to record a show, and Meng teachers won’t contact you. This time we’ve planned it together with Meng and Zeng teachers.”
We’re going to take you and Meng and Zeng teachers together to Curve Arts TV to say a group sketch comedy together.”
Qi Zhi Jiang was happy first, and then corrected him, “That’s not three people saying it, it’s group sketch comedy.”
Summer Oneiophora: “What? Okay, as long as we got this opportunity, Meng teacher said you’ve come back, you go to his place to get familiar with how to say it.”
Qi Zhi Jiang nodded happily.
The next day, Qi Zhi Jiang went to Zeng Wen’s place, and Meng Jingyuan was also there.
Zeng Wen called out to him and said, “We’re just saying it now. This time we’re doing an old show.”
Qi Zhi Jiang nodded, “What do you want to say.”
This is one of the disadvantages of recording TV shows. People like Qi Zhi Jiang and his peers were more used to performing without a prompter, where they would decide what skit to perform next based on the audience’s reaction and the situation at the time. This way they could achieve the best effect.
But now the rules are different, especially for formal TV performances; you need to prepare in advance and pay extra attention to which skit to choose to ensure a good performance effect. In this regard, Meng Jingyuan and others are more experienced.
Meng Jingyuan said, “Do you dare to do “Peeling the Jacket”?”
Qi Zhi Jiang felt relieved that he could do it, nodded his head.
