Xia Yiwei also understatedly expressed, “Hello everyone, I’m really happy, but the rules here are to each their own, don’t call me old. Anyway, whoever adheres to tradition, just take it.” This implied sarcasm had everyone laughing to death.
While the outside world was engaged in verbal sparring, Qi Shejiang was sacrificing his rest time during breaks in filming to visit the Meng family and keep Old Master Meng company. At his age, Old Master Meng enjoyed reminiscing about the past, but there were hardly any people left who could chat with him about those times. When Qi Shejiang arrived, Old Master Meng was pleased, but unfortunately, the doctor was not very supportive of him chatting too much about the past for fear of causing emotional distress. Thus, the old man liked to have Qi Shejiang perform tricks; whether it was doing a single line or having Meng Jingyuan measure him or even singing a little himself. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt as though he had returned many years ago, to a time when his master and senior brother were still around. His senior brother was hard at work; even on the way, he would not stop talking.
Practice was inseparable from their daily life. They were always honing their skills and keeping their tongues sharp.
As for him, the voice he was most familiar with was that of his shige (senior brother). This was how he learned his craft, listening to shige as if he were half a master. When he practiced properly, it was always shared with shige first before he presented it in front of his shifu (master).
It was during these interactions that Old Master Meng was willing to step forward and play the rogue for once. After the “opposition” softened, many colleagues from the crosstalk community came to the Meng family to witness the ceremony for Qi Shejiang.
Qi Shejiang had arrived at the Meng residence long before, with Old Master Meng sitting with his eyes closed, listening to him perform a solo piece. Qi Shejiang’s two disciples, Mo Sheng and Qi Leyang, were also present, greeting guests alongside Meng Jingyuan.
A visitor came from outside, chatting briefly with Meng Jingyuan at the gate. Meng Jingyuan introduced, “These are my shushu’s two disciples. Shidi (junior brother), please take the guests to the back.”
Thus, the visitors greeted Mo Sheng and Qi Leyang as well.
Originally, this was a kind gesture from the Meng family; it was natural for the disciples to do work for their master and get a chance to show their faces. However, their status had also risen, so they both felt a sense of dread throughout the process.
“Shishu (uncle master)!” One of them called out. Upon seeing his face, it was a well-known crosstalk actor. “Shidi, how good to see you!” another called, appearing to have performed on the Spring Festival Gala in some year.
They had already realized their elevated status and had been warned by Meng Jingyuan once, but today’s event was too grand, and with so many people present, they couldn’t help but fall into panic again.
After a long psychological preparation, they finally calmed themselves down and took the guests to the backyard. This was the old mansion of the Meng family, a traditional quadrangle courtyard.
Old Master Meng was sitting on a chair in the porch, while Qi Shejiang was at the bottom of the steps, performing his solo in the courtyard. Today, he was recounting “Song Gong’an,” which tells the story of Song Ci, the ancestor of forensic medicine during the Southern Song dynasty.
In the past, this was one of Qi Shejiang’s signature pieces.
At that time, the common people loved to listen to it, and wealthy families specifically invited him to perform in their parlors, essentially going to their homes just to tell this story.
The people who came dared not interrupt, silently standing in a corner of the courtyard, keeping their hands down, not daring to sit anywhere.
Those who could enter were all prominent figures in the crosstalk world. They could tell what Qi Shejiang was performing with just a single listening.
“Wangu Gangchang dan shang jian, jiliang ying dui huang tian. Rensheng fanghui you qian zai, shijie rongku wu bainián!” Qi Shejiang recited the theme poem first, and after he finished, he slapped the wooden block on the table.
Once this theme poem was recited, the expressions of the seniors present varied, but their thoughts were mostly the same. What great skill!
All were experts; just hearing these few lines demonstrated Qi Shejiang’s breath control, vocal power, and the ability to master his own voice with great tension.
Old Master Meng, who had his eyes closed, trembled all over and slowly opened his eyes, gazing deeply at Qi Shejiang.
As more and more people arrived, the time was nearly up, and Qi Shejiang also stopped, pausing at a point.
“Let’s begin,” Old Master Meng said softly. He invited the tablets of the ancestors and his master to come forward, as Qi Shejiang was about to bow and perform the ceremonial tribute.
He found it somewhat amusing in his heart to be bowing to himself; what was that supposed to mean?
That day, in front of so many people, he could only accept it. After all, he was indeed bowing to himself, but in reality, it was for one person—he could not accept bowing to anyone else.
Qi Shejiang paid his respects to both the ancestor and to himself.
Once the formalities were complete, all the witnesses began to applaud. Regardless of whether they were supportive or not before, since it had already been accepted, they had to show some generosity in spirit.
At that moment, Old Master Meng took out a box, opened it, revealing an aged redwood clapper carved with lotus patterns.
Upon seeing this clapper, especially those from the Meng family, their eyes involuntarily widened.
This clapper had been gifted to Old Master Meng by a great writer who appreciated his artistry when he was still practicing, and the old gentleman treasured it dearly. The clapper was later passed on to Old Master Meng’s shige, Qi Mengzhou. Afterward, due to some accidents, they separated, and this clapper remained with Old Master Meng.
Many believed that such a significant clapper would be passed down to the leader of the Meng family in a hundred years; at the very least, it would be passed to a favored disciple.
Who would have thought that he would gift it to Qi Shejiang on this day! In that moment, many thoughts and speculations flashed through everyone’s minds.
Now, Old Master Meng’s action raised questions; was he planning to transfer the legacy back to his shige’s lineage?! If that were the case, it would indeed be a monumental event in the crosstalk world!
“Recite that theme poem again using this,” Old Master Meng said.
Qi Shejiang took the box, holding the clapper in his hand, his fingers trembling slightly. It was the clapper handed to him by his master, and he rarely took it out. Although it bore the marks of the years, it felt as if time had not passed at all.
Qi Shejiang could hardly contain his excitement as he held the wooden clapper tightly, focusing his energy to recite: “For eons, the rules of heaven and earth rest upon man’s shoulders, the backbone unyielding against the Emperor of Heaven. Life’s fragrance and filth span a thousand years, while the world’s glory and decay endure less than a century!” With a sharp clap, the sound of the clapper rang out clear and distinct. Old Mr. Meng sighed with satisfaction, his face glowing, “Yes, yes! This is exactly the same; you and Shige are simply identical!” The more he listened to Jesse’s performance, the more he felt it wasn’t just that Jesse resembled Shige; he was imitating his master at every turn, and it felt entirely natural.
