As soon as the audience member left, Zuo Quan could no longer hold it in.
"Old Tang, can you at least perform properly? Even if there's only one audience member, we still have to perform! We have to be worthy of the money they paid for the ticket!"
"Today we happened to meet someone with a good temper. If it were someone else, they might have demanded a refund, and you wouldn't have been able to do anything about it!"
Tang Wen angrily threw his folding fan onto the ground.
"Then refund it! It's just three hundred yuan—do you think I can't afford that?"
"Zuo Quan, I can't keep doing this anymore. When I left the Arts Association back then, you promised me we'd make money."
"But now we can't even get a single audience member a day. Are you kidding me?"
"I invested twenty thousand yuan at the beginning. I don't even want the money anymore. Let's just split up."
Zuo Quan looked speechless. "If you're this negative, how could any audience want to come? Fine—if you want to go back to Meng Xin, then hurry up and go."
Tang Wen took off his long robe.
"Farewell."
With that, he stormed out.
Zuo Quan sat on the ground, staring at the empty theater, feeling utterly depressed.
Although Meng Xin's group had some fame, the Caotai Crosstalk Troupe also had its own fans. Some people had just gone over there to check things out for novelty.
But Tang Wen couldn't handle it mentally. His performance deteriorated. When the comedian delivering the punchlines isn't funny, the audience naturally won't buy it, and the crowd keeps shrinking.
Today they had finally reached the worst point—no audience at all. Only one ticket sold, and that person left halfway through.
Zuo Quan felt miserable.
Moreover, Tang Wen clearly had other plans. He used to belong to the Arts Association, and now that Meng Xin's business was booming, he probably wanted to go back.
Zuo Quan sighed. It seemed the troupe was about to fall apart.
Just then, two figures appeared outside the door.
"Has the show started yet?"
Zuo Quan stood up. "Sorry, you two. Our lead comedian has something to do today. We can't perform."
The man asked, "Can you perform a solo storytelling piece?"
Zuo Quan hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth.
"I can. If you're willing to watch a solo act, I'll perform one for you—and today it's free! Backstage, bring out a pot of tea!"
Lin Chudong and Cheng Huanhuan sat down. Zuo Quan stood on stage, struck the wooden clapper, and began performing the solo routine "The Quarrel Shop."
Lin Chudong nodded slightly. Zuo Quan had sharp delivery and excellent control of timing and rhythm. He was clearly a capable crosstalk performer.
The problem was that his jokes were old—very traditional material—and without fame, he simply couldn't become popular.
In truth, Meng Xin's sudden popularity was only an illusion. It looked huge because he had appeared on television and people were curious.
Once the novelty faded, the two theaters would likely return to equal footing.
But Tang Wen had lost his composure too quickly.
After finishing the piece, Lin Chudong and Cheng Huanhuan applauded.
Lin Chudong removed his mask and took a sip of tea.
Zuo Quan froze.
"It's you!"
"You two?"
Of course he recognized Lin Chudong and Cheng Huanhuan. They had previously had a minor conflict with Meng Xin on stage, which ironically made Meng Xin even more famous.
That's the entertainment industry—sometimes notoriety is still fame.
Zuo Quan asked, "Why are you here?"
Lin Chudong replied, "Is Meng Xin really that popular next door?"
Zuo Quan sighed and briefly explained the situation.
Right now Meng Xin's place was packed, while his own theater couldn't survive another day like this. He still had apprentices who depended on him for food. If there were no audiences, even they would leave.
Once his theater closed, Meng Xin would dominate the entire street.
Lin Chudong said, "If I help perform with you, do you have the confidence to beat them?"
Zuo Quan was stunned.
"Did I hear that right? You'd help me perform? I can't accept that! Besides, I don't perform skits."
Lin Chudong smiled. "Don't worry. I don't need a performance fee. I just want to vent some anger. I can perform crosstalk with you."
Zuo Quan looked surprised. "You'll perform crosstalk with me? Do you even know how?"
Lin Chudong rolled up his sleeves.
"I'll do a short segment. Huan-jie can be the audience. After all, a crosstalk performer should still perform even with just one listener."
Zuo Quan grew curious. "Alright… give it a try."
Lin Chudong stepped onto the stage and picked up the long robe from the floor to put it on.
Cheng Huanhuan clapped wildly from below the stage.
At eight in the evening, six men walked out of an office building. All of them wore plaid shirts and had thinning hair—looking exactly like stereotypical programmers.
"Zhang Mengnan, what happened today? We asked you to buy tickets, but you couldn't get any. We finally got off work early and thought we could see a celebrity."
Zhang Mengnan was the thinnest among them. His colleagues jokingly called him "Zhang the Tough Guy."
All six were crosstalk fans, but their work kept them too busy to attend shows often.
Today they finally got off early, but tickets for Daxin Crosstalk were sold out.
"It really got popular after appearing on TV. You can't even get tickets."
"How about we go listen at Caotai Crosstalk instead?"
"Sure. They've probably started already, right?"
"If the show's already started, the tickets might be cheaper. Let's go!"
They entered Caotai Crosstalk Theater.
Lin Chudong and Zuo Quan paused.
"Hello, where can we buy tickets?" Zhang Mengnan asked.
"Please wait a moment, I'll call someone."
Zuo Quan hurried backstage to get an apprentice to sell tickets. He hadn't expected anyone to show up so late.
What surprised him even more was that Da Fei actually knew how to perform crosstalk!
His timing and pauses were excellent.
With a good partner responding to him, they could become a perfect duo.
In crosstalk, they say "three parts comedy, seven parts response."
The lead comedian delivers the jokes, but the partner controls the rhythm.
Zuo Quan happened to be an excellent supporting performer, perfectly complementing Da Fei.
The six men bought tickets and sat in the front row.
Then suddenly one of them shouted:
"Holy crap—that's Da Fei!"
"It really is Da Fei!"
"Da Fei is performing crosstalk?"
Lin Chudong smiled.
"Everyone stay calm. Today you're lucky—you're the first audience of my crosstalk debut."
Zhang Mengnan excitedly took out his phone to record.
When he turned around, he saw Cheng Huanhuan eating sunflower seeds beside him.
"Hu—Huan-jie?"
She smiled politely.
"Hello."
Zhang Mengnan's eyes widened.
Da Fei was performing crosstalk on stage, and Huan-jie was sitting in the audience?
Was he dreaming?
Lin Chudong cleared his throat and began his first crosstalk performance.
Before starting, however, he secretly used a Memory Search Card to look up Guo Degang's complete crosstalk collection.
Lin Chudong said:
"Everyone has heard crosstalk before, and many famous performers appear on television."
"Recently there was a group called Yu Hong and Meng Xin that even appeared on TV. You've all seen them, right?"
The audience nodded.
Zuo Quan responded naturally, "You know them too?"
Lin Chudong replied:
"Oh, I know them very well—especially Teacher Meng Xin."
"I heard you're close with him?"
Zuo Quan nodded.
"We're neighbors."
Lin Chudong grinned.
"That makes sense. The two of them often go out walking together. One time after dinner they were heading for a stroll…"
Zuo Quan interrupted:
"Wait a second—please pronounce clearly. You mean dinner, not something else!"
The audience burst into laughter.
And thus began Lin Chudong's roasting segment aimed at Meng Xin.
-----------------------
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