When Zhou Siyin returned, Shu Wangyan merely asked why he was so late before being chased back to write his manuscript.

Once seated in the car, Zhou Siyin felt a lingering numbness in his fingers, his mind not yet fully functional. He hadn't told Ji Shuangyu his answer, only repeating, rather incongruously, "I am not afraid."

Ji Shuangyu looked slightly puzzled before being called away by the troupe members.

Zhou Siyin stood there for a while, thinking he might have indeed been scared witless. He needed to take his medicine when he got back.

The next day.

Many theater fans in Jingcheng sat at home, picking up the latest issue of the newspaper, and couldn't help but rub their eyes.

It was common knowledge that the most talked-about traditional opera in Jingcheng recently was Temple of the Spiritual Official. Its reputation was excellent, though some controversy had gradually arisen due to its sets.

But what popular play didn't have controversy? Even renowned dan actors were inevitably attacked and nitpicked by the fans of their rivals.

Today, however, marked the first large-scale wave of negative reviews.

Several articles pointed out from various angles: on a small scale, the boss was stingy and miserly, unwilling to spend on sets and mechanisms. On a larger scale, Temple of the Spiritual Official was a regression, a mistake, completely devoid of innovation!

There was even an anonymous tip from an insider, revealing that the set designer for this play was a freelance extra from the Changle Theater.

This amateur extra, named Ji Shuangyu, was originally an orphan who did manual labor on the streets. His parents' family had fallen from grace, and he had never attended school or been formally trained in opera.

For such a person to design sets and mechanisms was one thing, but for him to interfere with the performance on stage, making actors like Ying Xiaonong have to scramble on stage...

If it were just this, the theater fans wouldn't have been so dumbfounded.

The main reason was that, in another newspaper, Kunlun Bookstore's number one bestselling author, Shu Wangyan, had published an essay heaping praise on Temple of the Spiritual Official, calling it "the most innovative and beautiful play I've seen in recent years, a true breath of fresh air," "it speaks of ghosts and gods without worshipping them, possessing an anti-feudal spirit," and "it adopts Western film theories and techniques, perfectly integrating them into the opera stage."

This was Shu Wangyan!

Everyone knew Shu Wangyan loved to mock the fallacies in theater. This was the first time he had ever praised a play so highly, and his column had even exceeded the word limit...

It was as if everything was backward. Theater fans were harshly criticizing Temple of the Spiritual Official, calling it regressive and erroneous, while Shu Wangyan was lauding it, saying the play was highly innovative, the plot refreshing, and its ideas superior to common ghost and god plays.

What kind of world was this? How could it not make people reading the newspaper suspect they had gotten out of bed on the wrong side today?

Shu Wangyan had a vast number of readers. While cursing him for having time to watch plays but not to write more updates, they also went to learn about this play.

According to past patterns, the aggressive negative reviews targeting the Changle Theater should have been able to build some momentum and affect its reputation, perhaps even its box office.

But who could have guessed that Shu Wangyan had also gone to see the play, and that he would stand with Temple of the Spiritual Official!

These theater critics couldn't compare to Shu Wangyan's influence with words, and they certainly couldn't compare to his character—to think that Shu Wangyan, who always criticized the plots of traditional operas, would come out to support this one. Who do you think the audience would believe?

One side used the standards of Western drama to deem Temple of the Spiritual Official erroneous; the other side lavished it with praise, saying Temple of the Spiritual Official employed superb and novel film techniques.

Moreover, Shu Wangyan's arguments were well-founded. This "Montage" thing, although many hadn't heard of it, the more knowledgeable people could always find information on it. The theory had only been invented a short time ago, and practically no domestic film had mastered it.

This wasn't just a difference of opinion; this was a resounding slap in the face.

Who were they calling archaic? Who did they say didn't understand innovation?

Their set designer may not have gone to school or had formal training, but wasn't he far more cultured and innovative than all of you who spout Western drama theory?

Xu Xinyue was grinning so hard his mouth was about to split. "Montage, Montage, right? I don't know what it is, but it's really a wonderful thing!"

He quickly took advantage of this favorable wind and had someone write a notice on large red paper to post outside:

In light of the audience's enthusiasm and constant demand for tickets, the theater has decided to extend the run of Temple of the Spiritual Official for another five days. Everyone can now go to the box office to book their tickets!

By this count, Temple of the Spiritual Official had now been running continuously in Jingcheng for fifteen days, tying the previous record holder, Lu Ya Defeats Gongming, which had starred two famous actors!

—If you counted the days the old version was on, it had long since surpassed it.

Although the Changle Theater had fewer seats, and that famous actor had performed in a grand theater, making the two not directly comparable, it was still a great honor to boast about.

Thanks to Shu Wangyan's support stirring up public opinion, a long queue actually formed outside the box office overnight, waiting for sales to start on time the next day. It became a spectacle on the street, drawing the curious gazes of passersby.

Ji Shuangyu was surprised when he saw it. It was still freezing cold. "Boss, did you hire shills?"

"Nonsense, I did not!" Xu Xinyue retorted emotionally. How could he insult him and Temple of the Spiritual Official like that? He declared loudly, "I didn't know you could even hire shills to line up and build hype. I've learned something new!"

Ji Shuangyu: "..."

How should he put it? He actually felt a little like praising Xu Xinyue for even considering spending! money! to hire shills.

......

The tickets for these five days were quickly sold out again. The dispute in the newspapers had conversely become its biggest advertisement.

And because those theater reviews had brought Ji Shuangyu into the limelight, his name seemed to have become famous for a time.

Not everyone necessarily understood progress versus regression or artistic ideology, but the theater fans all knew about "scrambling on stage," and they knew that there had never been a director on the opera stage before.

This was a stark departure from the traditional actor-centric system.

When actors from other troupes heard about it, controversies arose. There were quite a few conservative forces in the theater world. The dispute over set design style was secondary; the influence of this director position was far too great!

"...Uh, if I had to accept being directed by a freelance extra and set designer, I couldn't stand it. How a play is sung has always been figured out by the actors themselves."

"Exactly, after our decades of hard work, we're supposed to listen to a set designer?"

"It's only because Xu Xinyue was at his wit's end that he would use a 'director'. He really lucked out with this play."

"Speaking of which, I wonder how Ying Xiaonong was actually guided. My master said he went to see it, and Boss Ying has never been so at ease on stage before. The moment he opened his mouth, the audience erupted. The plot alone couldn't achieve that, could it?"

"And that Western theory Mr. Shu Wangyan mentioned, that must have been the director's design too."

"Is that so..."

Could it be that Ying Xiaonong's improvement was really due to the director's guidance?

Opinions were divided within the Pear Garden community. Even with the conservatives waving their banners, they couldn't reach a consensus for a time: what exactly was a director, and was it a good thing or a bad thing?

......

.

Ji Shuangyu was at the center of public opinion.

However, without a phone or a computer, and being too reluctant to spend money on newspapers, plus having very few friends in the theater world, all that talk was meaningless to him.

Even if he knew, he would probably just roll his eyes and think, 'I won't argue with you old fossils; the box office will do the talking.'

As a modern person, Ji Shuangyu knew that these current opinions wouldn't be passed down. In later generations, when people brought it up, they would at most say that in that era, a certain play achieved the highest box office.

Right now, Ji Shuangyu himself was in Small Drum Alley, playing mom...

"Drink up. Meat, eggs, and milk, none can be missing!" Ji Shuangyu had bought a lot of eggs and milk, learned how to cook them well, and fed them to the four children. He peeled an egg for himself as well to supplement his protein. 'Ji Feifei, eat more. Even if you don't get fairer, you'll grow taller.'

The courtyard gate was open. The structure of their large, jumbled courtyard was crude, with no spirit screen, so passersby could immediately make eye contact with those inside.

Ji Shuangyu was eating an egg and happened to go out to throw away some trash when he saw Shu Wangyan and Zhou Siyin passing by. Shu Wangyan was dejected, and Zhou Siyin also had his head down, looking burdened with worries. Neither seemed to be in high spirits.

"Hey! Mr. Zhou!" Ji Shuangyu raised his hand and gave a muffled greeting.

He had joked around with Zhou Siyin a bit at the Changle Theater earlier, and the man seemed to have been scared stiff. But he hadn't fainted, so that was progress.

Zhou Siyin stiffened at the sound of his voice, and his steps grew heavier.

He was here to drag Shu Wangyan to see a doctor. The fellow had been well for only a few days before he started wailing again that he was deathly ill and that they should hurry up and prepare his obituary and hiatus notice...

This time, Zhou Siyin was determined to shut his mouth.

"Eh, Mr. Ji, you live here too?" Shu Wangyan said in pleasant surprise. "So we're neighbors who've never met. I live just over there!"

"Oh, oh, is that so?" Ji Shuangyu glanced at Zhou Siyin. No wonder Zhou Siyin had come to Small Drum Alley before.

"Since you live here too, then before, you and..." Shu Wangyan seemed to have thought of something and was about to speak when Zhou Siyin interrupted him, "Aren't you on your deathbed?"

Why was he getting excited again?

Shu Wangyan quickly switched to a feeble tone, clutching his chest and whispering, "How did you two meet, anyway? I always feel that Brother Baoduo's attitude towards you is exceptionally good. He's so harsh with us..."

Zhou Siyin: "..."

Ji Shuangyu: 'Hehe, that's because I have leverage on him, of course!'

"That's a secret. Just assume we met when I was borrowing a book from the library," Ji Shuangyu said with a smile. "Why don't you two come in for a drink? I haven't had a chance to thank you yet. I didn't realize you were a famous author who even spoke up for us in the newspapers. Your righteous words saved us, or else we would have flopped."

He had only learned that Zhou Siyin's friend was a bestselling author after a colleague who had seen Shu Wangyan's small portrait in the paper mentioned it. It made sense; Zhou Siyin himself was a publisher.

"I was just telling the truth," Shu Wangyan said, holding his head high. He had never deigned to write things for personal connections or for money.

"Still, thank you very much. I must read your books some other day." Ji Shuangyu warmly invited them in and poured two glasses of hot milk. Little brother Lei-zi also dutifully added more fuel to the fire before running out to play, leaving space for his brother and the guests to chat.

Zhou Siyin looked around. The place had changed a bit since his last visit. Sunlight shone through the new translucent window paper, illuminating the newly applied light green wallpaper. Though they were small changes, the whole room looked much warmer and brighter.

Ji Shuangyu said, "I hear Mr. Wangyan writes suspense, and it's a bit scary—Mr. Zhou, can an ordinary person fall asleep after reading it?" He turned the conversation to Zhou Siyin.

Zhou Siyin: "..."

'Why not ask the author himself, instead of the bookstore boss?' Utterly oblivious, Shu Wangyan said, "It's a little scary! Especially the latest chapter. I even got the inspiration from Small Drum Alley, haha. Right, Brother Baoduo? Tell us your thoughts after reading it?"

Zhou Siyin said coldly, "I don't know. Haven't read it."

Shu Wangyan: "??"

Shu Wangyan said in disbelief, "Impossible, how could you have not read it!"

It was one thing for Ji Shuangyu not to have read it; his books were bestsellers, but perhaps the man just didn't like reading novels. But Zhou Siyin was different. He was the owner of Kunlun Bookstore and had even rushed him for his manuscript several times!

Shu Wangyan had always assumed Zhou Siyin read his work; Zhou Siyin had even relayed the editor's comments about the plot to him.

Zhou Siyin indeed hadn't read it, and the reason was that he didn't quite dare to... be interested. But this reason was not for outsiders.

Zhou Siyin thought for a moment and said, "...I only read completed novels."

Shu Wangyan took two steps back and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Heavens, what a hurtful thing to say!!

Shu Wangyan retreated to a corner to nurse his wounds.

Seeing Ji Shuangyu also drinking a cup of hot milk, a milk mustache forming on his lip, Zhou Siyin couldn't help but ask, "Where are your ancestors from?"

The dairy companies of this era were initially established to meet the demands of foreigners, introducing equipment for pasteurization and cold chains, and selling condensed milk, fresh milk, and milk powder, even exporting them overseas.

Later, influenced by advertisements, Huaxia people also began to buy dairy products, but the main advertising targets were children and women. And some people still believed that milk was not suitable for children. Ji Shuangyu, however, seemed to drink it without any reservations.

He suddenly remembered Ji Shuangyu had used the word "flopped" just now and asked with curiosity, "Are you from the Guangdong region?"

That area was also heavily influenced by foreigners.

Ji Shuangyu: "How could that be? My whole family are old Jingcheng natives through and through!"

Zhou Siyin: "..."

"Just kidding, hahaha." After his little joke, Ji Shuangyu chuckled. "I'm a Jingcheng native. It's just... I saw in your bookstore's newspaper that milk is good for you, and I have kids at home."

Speaking of the newspaper, something stirred in Zhou Siyin's mind, and he began to stare at Ji Shuangyu.

His steps had been heavy on the way here because he had a difficult problem, but now, seeing Ji Shuangyu, an idea suddenly occurred to him...

As for Ji Shuangyu, who was being stared at, he didn't react. He was used to it.

"Would you accept a commission?" Zhou Siyin asked.

"A commission? I can't write novels," Ji Shuangyu said. He believed that screenwriting and directing shouldn't be separate and he could write scripts himself, having even modified Temple of the Spiritual Official this time. But writing a novel was still somewhat different. Since Shu Wangyan was standing nearby, he assumed Zhou Siyin wanted to commission him to write a story.

"I don't mean a novel. I'm referring to... your calligraphy," Zhou Siyin said slowly. "I would like to invite you to write the masthead for a new periodical from our bookstore. The remuneration is fifty yuan. I've seen your calligraphy; it has a very unique style."

Ji Shuangyu froze in the middle of drinking his milk.

He had worked so hard on a whole play, and Xu Xinyue had only given him about twenty yuan!!

At that moment, Shu Wangyan suddenly walked back with a look of terror on his face. "I told you the legends of Small Drum Alley are true! Did you hear that? A faint voice calling 'Brother'..."

Zhou Siyin: "..."

Ji Shuangyu: "..."

Ji Feifei: "..."

Ji Shuangyu picked up Ji Feifei and said slowly, "Mr. Wangyan, this is my little sister. She was calling me."

"Ah! Where did she come from!" Shu Wangyan jumped, then realized that while the person was a bit dark and skinny, she was indeed a living child. He wiped his face in embarrassment.

No, he had to shift this embarrassment onto someone else.

"I'm now very suspicious about how you two really met. I originally thought Brother Baoduo was deliberately messing with me, but it's such a coincidence that Mr. Ji lives here too. Tell me, did something happen on the night Brother Baoduo came looking for me? Don't tell me Brother Baoduo encountered one of Small Drum Alley's legends and didn't dare tell me?"

As expected of a novelist, Shu Wangyan's casual words were eighty to ninety percent correct. Except he probably wouldn't have guessed, even if it were spelled out for him, that Zhou Siyin's courage could be so at odds with his appearance.

Zhou Siyin's heart tightened.

Just then, Ji Shuangyu wiped his mouth and declared loudly, "I won't have you speaking of Mr. Zhou like that! He is the bravest man in the world!"

Zhou Siyin: "..."

Shu Wangyan scratched his head, "Oh? Oh?"

Fifty yuan, fifty yuan. Food and clothing were now secure, but his living situation was still very simple. With fifty yuan, he could buy some more furniture and would no longer be considered destitute.

'I will never tease Boss Zhou again. What's the difference between a boss like this and a Bodhisattva?' Not only would he not tease him, Ji Shuangyu even took full responsibility: "It was me! I'm afraid of the dark and ghosts, and I fell down. Mr. Zhou selflessly helped me!"

Zhou Siyin: "..."

Shu Wangyan nodded, "Oh, oh!"