Fang Wenqi smiled faintly and explained: "Where did crosstalk come from? It started from the streets. In the past hundred years of crosstalk, we have been learning, from temples to rivers and lakes, from big countries to small families, we are all the objects of our study."

"Take the fortune teller just now, our traditional crosstalk has a big face and a bone-burning look. There are also people who sell clothes there, where to buy clothes there, and they learn it from beating people here. There are also people who sell vegetables and fruits there. There are also old jokes about hawking in crosstalk, including the pancakes you are eating, and the old crosstalk Manchu and Han banquet can also be said. There are articles and great bodyguards in martial arts. Do you still think that the quality of other industries has nothing to do with us?"

"Uh" He Xiangdong was even more stunned.

Fang Wenqi walked forward and said as he walked, "Boy, crosstalk comes from our food, drink, and defecation. You can't learn from those people that they say they are dirty and fart. If you have the ability, don't shit and fart. Everyone says that crosstalk comes from life. What is life? It's not just a bit of food, drink, and defecation. How elegant can it be if you change the word, hum."

He Xiangdong was stunned for a long time before catching up.

After catching up with the master, Fang Wenqi was still sighing: "It's getting worse and worse now. For example, after the founding of the People's Republic of China, everyone has to say new crosstalk. Although they have abandoned the efforts of many seniors, at that time, at least everyone's attitude towards art was still serious. Some people in the Quyi Group spent several months or even two years to go to the grassroots to eat and live with everyone and understand life."

"Although those crosstalks are critical or praise-oriented, they do have a lot of good things. But I can't bear to let go of those old things, so I'll come back, alas. Later, I encountered another ten years of great chaos. We artists died, fled, injured, and the team was in chaos. Somehow, but the new crosstalk written by the Quyi Troupe at that time was gone. "

"I thought it was a big upheaval. The chaos ended, and everyone's life was getting better and better, and everyone could do it well. But I don't know what happened. Now, it's rare that artists who can go deep into the grassroots to experience it for a few years. They all sit on office chairs and cross their legs and write crosstalk. We say crosstalk is always picking cakes on the opposite side of the ground to pick up money. You haven't knelt on the ground to pick up money. You know what crosstalk is like in the office. Alas, more and more artists talk about money in recent years, but fewer and fewer people do it. Now crosstalk is getting less and less funny, and it's less and less interesting. Everyone is squeezing to the TV station. It's so famous that you can go around to make money. Who has the heart to do it well?"

"New crosstalk is written with their heads, and the old crosstalk is demoted by them. Now we old artists who have come from the street are still there, and the masters of Marquis and Ma San are still there, and they have become this fucking situation. I am really afraid, I am really afraid that no one will listen to crosstalk in a few years, after we have persisted in our lives."

Fang Wenqi sighed loudly, with a little more lingering sorrow on his old face. This old man who has been persisting in crosstalk for life and has fought for life, finally sighed with worry. He opposed the entire crosstalk world, but was eventually defeated by reality.

He Xiangdong lowered his head silently, and even the pancakes tasted a little tasteless. For some reason, he suddenly felt that the burden on his shoulders was very heavy, and a sense of silent depression made his pace much heavier.

"Master, how did you learn and make art back then?" He Xiangdong asked this question for some reason.

Fang Wenqi looked around and fell into memories. He looked at his only apprentice and sighed silently: "Now it is really different from us. It was more lively than now. There were all kinds of crafts, including the sky bridge in Beijing, the three nostalgic in Tianjin, and the Confucius Temple in Nanjing. There were many old craftsmen. Each industry had its own business and its own unique skills."

"I also came from the streets with your master. I was in the Tianqiao, Beijing. There were opera singers, storytellers, practitioners, drums, and magicians. Folk art was later called later. We used to call them ten kinds of juggling, playing, playing, playing, singing, and practicing, and each had its own business. Business also has its own business. For example, fortune telling, you can't live with martial arts like fortune telling. Otherwise, people beat drums and drums, and you won't be able to do business."

"At that time, there were industry rules. We who were traveling around the world had a Changchun Association. There were also presidents who led everyone to restrain everyone, including how many distances the business was. Living in the left and right was all rules and everyone abide by it. There is no ecstasy now, but it's okay, after all, the times are different. Now artists have a high status, and no one looks down on them when they go out. It's not our popularity at the Lower Nine at that time. All artists have to thank the government for this."

"I said to your master at the beginning, because it was exposed to the wind and sun, and I earned less, and my life was in a panic. Later, I also went to the Qiming Tea House of Chang's family to perform crosstalk, and life gradually improved. At that time, Mr. Chang was still alive. Mr. Chang was a hole, but he was also a crosstalk artist. He took good care of us artists and taught me a lot of things. I still remember the good things of others. Dongzi, look, I still keep the jade son that Mr. Chang gave me back then."

Fang Wenqi took out a jade piece carefully wrapped in silk and handed it to He Xiangdong. He Xiangdong opened it carefully, and it was well preserved. Two black jade boards were brought by his master in the past few years. He never used it, but just made a belief.

After a while, Fang Wenqi took it back, carefully wrapped it in satin and put it in the thick silk bag, and then continued, "At that time, the old man from the Chang family of Little Mushroom was still there. We also talked about crosstalk. They are really an amazing person. Don't look at the audience's response today. Little Mushroom was much better than you when you were so big. Later, when the War to Resist U.S. Aggression and Aid Korea, Little Mushroom went to North Korea to express condolences, and was bombed to death and sacrificed. It's a pity. It's really a pity that we juniors admire. "

"Later, in the new China, everyone joined the Quyi Troupe and began to reform crosstalk."

That day, He Xiangdong remembered that his master talked a lot about the past, and he didn't know if it was caught by the fortune telling loophole or if it had been held back for too long. Anyway, he had said a lot, and he kept talking from the town to his home.

He Xiangdong was too young this year and knew nothing. After many years, after experiencing countless ups and downs, he recalled what happened today, but felt heartbroken.
Chapter completed!