Chapter 29: Journalism

Liu Bei’s father was a director, and her mother was a stage actress.

Her parents divorced when she was very young, and she was raised by her grandmother. It was her own idea to apply to the opera school; her mother had cried and begged her not to, but it was to no avail. Because such schools were boarding institutions, once you started, you were there for eight years, and graduation guaranteed state-assigned employment—there was nothing to worry about.

Perhaps it was this upbringing that made her so independent and strong-willed from a young age.

The next day, morning.

Six young actors, led by a teacher, took a bus to the Qianmen Arrow Tower.

It had been agreed that there was no need for makeup or costumes; they would simply sing a few segments. No one even thought about payment; they were satisfied just to be fed.

In those days, opera performers were all affiliated with state units. The units would organize performances and sell tickets, but that had nothing to do with the performers themselves, who simply drew a monthly salary. If anyone took private jobs and accepted money, the consequences could be quite serious.

Huang Zhanying was thrilled to know the children were coming.

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"We boiled some eggs specially, come, have some to tide you over!"

"I’m not sure what your rules are, whether you can drink tea, but if not, we can boil some hot water for you!"

There weren't many customers in the morning, so Huang Zhanying ran to the front of the stall and put her booming voice to use: "Come and take a look, passersby, please stop for a moment! Today, we’ve invited students from the opera school to perform. It’s a way to give back to all of you, and to add some liveliness!"

"We’ve been selling tea for so many days, and we could only keep going thanks to your support. We want to thank you all first!"

With that shout, a crowd gathered in several layers.

Right there in that humble space, in the noisy environment beneath the centuries-old Arrow Tower, an eighteen or nineteen-year-old actor stepped up. With a hint of nervousness, she began a segment from *Mu Guiying Takes Command*.

In previous years, plays about emperors, generals, scholars, and beauties had been banned. They were only now being gradually restored, creating a situation where both model operas and traditional operas coexisted.

"Suddenly hearing the drums and horns shake the sky, awakening my lofty ambition to break the Heavenly Gate. Thinking back to the days of galloping on my steed, the enemy’s blood splashing upon my pomegranate skirt... With one sword, I can hold back a million soldiers!"

"Bravo!"

"Well done!"

The performance was naturally raw, and the nervousness made it even more so, but the crowd applauded thunderously, cheering with great enthusiasm.

Entertainment was scarce!

From the late 70s to the late 80s, traditional opera experienced its final glory. Simply put, the market was strong; opera performers held the same status and popularity as film and television stars. Opera was not a niche; it was mass entertainment.

It wouldn't be like that in later generations, where it would become niche, with only a few regions keeping the flame alive, such as Henan Opera. It is said that Henan Opera is the only genre that can sustain itself without state funding.

Yu Jiajia snapped photos, recording every moment; these were the bricks and stones for her climb to becoming a great journalist. Suddenly, she froze and hurriedly tapped Chen Qi.

"Hey, hey, there’s a foreign devil!"

"Where?"

"There, over there!"

Chen Qi looked over, and sure enough, a blonde, blue-eyed woman was pushing through the crowd with keen interest.

"You’re in luck—you actually ran into a foreigner!"

...

As it happened, on January 1st of this year, China and the United States officially established diplomatic relations.

When Chinese leaders visited the US, Jimmy Carter arranged a cultural performance. The final act featured 100 American children of different ethnicities singing *I Love Beijing's Tiananmen* in Chinese, which became a celebrated anecdote.

Afterward, the US sent a congressional delegation to visit. Joe Biden was among them; he was a senator at the time and even toured the Great Wall. This was his first time in China. Who could have imagined that 40 years later, he would become the "Emperor of US Rarity"?

China had already opened visas to Americans, and groups of artists, journalists, photographers, and a small number of tourists had begun to arrive.

They took a great many photos to bring back to American newspapers; after all, our country was still very mysterious, and the whole world wanted to understand it.

Eve Arnold was one of them.

She was a contracted photographer for an American photo agency. When she learned she could come to China, she submitted her application without delay.

It was approved quickly, and she even received special treatment: her visa was extended for six months, and as a tourist, she could go anywhere she wanted, arranged by the National Tourism Administration.

It was still winter when she arrived. She had photographed passengers at the railway station, the Ming Tombs in the snow, and female workers in factories. Later, she traveled south, visited the Tsingtao Beer factory, and went to Shanghai.

After a big loop, she had just returned.

Eve planned to spend these few days photographing the hutongs of Beijing before returning to the US, which was how she came upon the scene.

"I remember when I first arrived, this stall wasn't here?"

"No, it must have just opened."

"Ha, I’m going over to ask!"

The accompanying translator had no choice but to follow her into the crowd. The state let these foreigners in to see a China undergoing reform and opening up; while they were certainly interested in grand spectacles, they preferred photographing smaller, more intimate things.

And so, a blonde woman weaved through the crowd. Everyone was stunned: "Whoa, a foreign devil!"

The young actor who was performing saw the foreign guest and grew even more spirited.

Eve arrived at the tea stall and looked at everything with curiosity. Huang Zhanying and the others became nervous, exchanging glances: "Oh my, a foreigner! Are we supposed to overthrow her?"

"Hello, what are you doing here?" she asked.

The translator translated it into Chinese and introduced them: "This is an American journalist. You don't need to be nervous; just talk to her normally."

"We... what should we say?" Huang Zhanying lacked experience and was a bit bewildered. Chen Qi had to walk over and wave with a smile: "Hello!"

"You speak English?" Eve asked.

"Self-taught, just a little bit."

"Wow, you're already very impressive. Are you selling water?"

Chen Qi wanted to converse in English, but that would be too heaven-defying, so he had to pretend not to understand and chat through the translator.

"This tea is called 'Big Bowl Tea.' Although it’s humble, it has a 400-year history. During the Ming Dynasty, there were 132 trades, and selling Big Bowl Tea belonged to the steaming trade. During the Qing Dynasty, there was a man named Pu Songling who set up a tea stall at the village entrance to collect stories..."

"Keep it simple! Keep it simple! How am I supposed to translate that?" The translator glared at him and added, "And don't talk nonsense; how come I've never heard that Big Bowl Tea is so legendary?"

"An international friend is here; would I dare lie? Just because you don't know it doesn't mean it doesn't exist, right?"

Chen Qi channeled the spirit of that legendary guy at the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda, rattling off a stream of nonsense.

"We only started last month... Labor is a very glorious thing for us. Now that the environment is open, we are very happy to try new things, and we have already achieved some results."

"We are holding a small event today. They are all students. Would you like to listen to some traditional Chinese opera?"

"I’d love to!" Eve nodded.

"Quick, quick!" Chen Qi beckoned, saying, "A rare opportunity, sing a segment for this silly foreigner."

The first young actor came over and sang a few lines even more nervously. Eve didn't understand, nor did she mind; she was simply filled with curiosity about everything in this country.

But how could Chen Qi let this slip? Such a good opportunity had to be exploited, so he pushed Huang Zhanying forward, saying, "Give her a bowl of tea!"

"Does she even want to drink it?"

"Don't worry about whether she wants to or not, just get up there!"

Huang Zhanying had no choice but to pour a bowl of tea.

"Thank you!" Eve replied in simple Chinese, took the bowl, looked at it, and took a sip. Her face immediately twisted in bitterness, and she shook her head, saying, "The taste is very strange. Thank you for your hospitality. May I take a few photos of you?"

"Of course!"

After taking the photos, the translator breathed a sigh of relief; fortunately, no incident occurred. He pulled Eve away, not forgetting to glare at Chen Qi—this was an international friend!

"I got the shot too!" Yu Jiajia ran over, excited, and said, "That shot of her drinking the tea—it will definitely make the piece!"

"What title are you thinking of?" Chen Qi asked.

"American friend favors Big Bowl Tea?"

"Your articles involving foreigners have to be reviewed, right? Then write it that way."

In truth, it was too mediocre. If he could, he thought it should be called: *Traditional Old Beijing Big Bowl Tea Conquers an American: Downed a Big Bowl in Two Gulps!*

These kinds of titles were very familiar; there were many on the internet in later generations, like "Chinese Roast Duck makes a German father-in-law cry with joy; couldn't stop after eating one whole duck," or "American brother-in-law eats Chinese steamed buns for the first time; devoured five in one go and was completely conquered"...

They generated plenty of traffic.

"I only wanted to use the singing to stir up some heat, but who knew my luck would be this good—a 'silly foreigner' dropped from the sky. Now I don't have to worry..."

Chen Qi looked to the west side of the Arrow Tower. The tea stalls there had also been set up, but there were almost no people; all the customers were on this side.

Those people weren't having it easy either. He didn't want to use dirty tactics; he just wanted to build his own buzz. Once they couldn't sustain their business, he would absorb them and strengthen his own position.

Thirteen people becoming thirty-three would allow him to demand better terms.

He discussed the article with Yu Jiajia. Yu Jiajia still had some conscience at this point and said, "I feel like this is a bit of a departure from the facts."

"Let me ask you, did the young actors come to perform?"

"Yes!"

"Was it voluntary?"

"Yes!"

"Were there foreigners?"

"Yes!"

"Did they have a good time?"

"Yes!"

"So, you’re just choosing a part of the content. What you write is all true, so what’s wrong with that?"

He shrugged. "This is called journalism!"