From the expressions on your faces, I can tell that you find it strange—what is this person doing up here, acting like a foreign friend? Did he get the introduction wrong? Actually, he came up here to dance.” Qi Shejiang spoke at a moderate pace and articulated what the audience was thinking, causing everyone to smile in understanding.
“Alas, I didn’t want to come up either, but my mom insisted I showcase my talent.” Qi Shejiang knew that Xia Yiwei was quite famous and immediately made a joke about her, “My mom, as you all know, is gentle and beautiful. Since I was young, my family has never engaged in corporal punishment. She always uses her hands.”
He delivered a humorous punchline, and everyone was familiar with Xia Yiwei; she had just performed, and laughter erupted, mixed with some playful teasing—Xia Yiwei should still be at the tea house, right?
With Xia Yiwei as a setup and Qi Shejiang’s rhythm, what could have been a good joke became a great one.
“So, I had to come up here,” Qi Shejiang said, “otherwise, what if she clapped her hand on her own head and accused me of being unfilial?”
The audience laughed again, this time even louder, followed by a chorus of “Oh!”
Earlier, Qi Shejiang had said that Xia Yiwei didn’t believe in corporal punishment and only used her hands. With the twist, it made everyone realize: wait, that means she beats herself?!
It was an odd joke, but no one would actually think that Xia Yiwei did such a thing.
“This child…” Even Xia Yiwei herself was amused in the private booth, yet she felt somewhat sweet inside. After all, the mother-son duo had not been close for many years, and her son’s willingness to use her as the punchline felt affectionate.
Qi Shejiang first recited a fixed introductory poem that captivated the entire audience. Then, he grabbed a few jokes from his and Xia Yiwei’s lives for a test run, all done on the fly.
In the world of cross-talk, this improvisation is referred to as “live hanging,” which tests the performer’s ability to adapt in real-time.
