Chapter 35: I Have a Homemade Cold Dish

"Brother, over here!"

The next afternoon, Zhang Yuan met with the real estate agent by car.

*He clearly looks at least ten years older than me, yet he's calling me 'brother'...* Zhang Yuan complained inwardly.

The two were currently in Dashilar, located in the Xicheng District of the capital, within the Second Ring Road.

"Brother, walk this way." The agent led Zhang Yuan through various alleys and lanes until they reached a somewhat narrow hutong.

"This is Xibiying Hutong. Don't let the small size fool you; its strength lies in its tranquility."

"Moreover, this hutong has historical value. Before the Liberation, this was called Pitiao Hutong."

Zhang Yuan froze upon hearing the name. He turned to look at the man. "Is there a pimp living in one of these houses?"

*This kid is even trying to pimp people out...* the agent thought with disdain.

"You're joking. However, it was indeed a district of courtesans during the Republican era. The entirety of Pitiao Hutong was split into two by Yanzhi Hutong, and Yanzhi Hutong was one of the famous Eight Great Hutongs."

The more Zhang Yuan listened, the more ridiculous it felt. *He's leading me straight into a den of iniquity!*

Ever since receiving the phone call this morning, Zhang Yuan had been skeptical. *Did he find the house I wanted this quickly? And does it meet every single one of my criteria?*

"The house we are looking at is Courtyard No. 10. It's not large, but it has a very dignified feel."

The two continued to chat as they walked.

"By the way, brother, what do you do for a living?"

"An actor." Zhang Yuan could now say those two words with great confidence.

"What a coincidence! The current resident of Courtyard No. 10 is also an actor!" the agent responded immediately.

"Oh..." Having been on guard from the start, Zhang Yuan's suspicion deepened upon hearing this.

He had rented houses in his previous life and had been scammed plenty of times; naturally, he didn't believe in such "coincidences."

The agent noticed his expression darkening and thought to himself that if the client was dissatisfied before even seeing the house, this deal might fall through!

As they spoke, they arrived at the entrance of Courtyard No. 10. The agent raised his hand and knocked on the door.

A few minutes later, the gate swung open, and a middle-aged man about 175cm tall walked out.

He had a cigarette dangling from one side of his mouth, a bottle of liquor in his other hand, and a head full of old-fashioned perm rollers in various colors—red, yellow, blue, and green—the kind used by old landladies.

Zhang Yuan turned back to look at the agent. "Didn't you say there were no pimps in Pitiao Hutong?"

Agent:???

"He's my future roommate?"

"Precisely."

"Let's sign the contract."

"Oh... uh?" The agent was stunned. Just a moment ago, the man had looked completely dissatisfied; how had his attitude made a 180-degree turn upon seeing the person at the door?

*Duh!*

The agent didn't know, but how could Zhang Yuan not recognize him?

Smoking, drinking, perming hair... the man walking out was none other than the "Queen of Crosstalk," Teacher Yu Qian!

Zhang Yuan felt he might be destined for crosstalk. He hadn't expected to run into Old Man Yu while just renting a house. Of course, at this time, he wasn't an "Old Man" yet.

The contract was signed within minutes. The agent took the cash and left the hutong in a daze, thinking to himself about what kind of temperament young people had these days—so hard to read.

"Brother, have a smoke." Seeing Yu Qian finish his cigarette in just three puffs, Zhang Yuan pulled a pack of Zhongnanhai from his pocket.

This was a habit formed from his days working on construction sites in his previous life—always carrying cigarettes to hand them out.

And he had to carry several packs; he had to categorize them for workers, foremen, bosses, and supervisors.

"You're too kind." Yu Qian took it, and Zhang Yuan quickly pulled out a lighter to help him light it.

【Received thanks from Yu Qian: Crosstalk Foundation +1!】

*A little bit of loot already. Satisfying.*

Since he had helped light his cigarette right off the bat, Yu Qian looked at Zhang Yuan with a smile, thinking that despite his young age, the boy knew how to conduct himself.

Leading Zhang Yuan over the threshold, a very standard, albeit small, yet elegant courtyard house appeared before him.

"Small" referred to the house; "elegant" referred to Yu Qian's decor.

Several steel wires were strung across the courtyard, hung with numerous birdcages.

Parrots, mynas, bulbuls, thrushes...

Dozens of flowerpots of various sizes were arranged around the courtyard. Zhang Yuan didn't recognize most of the plant species, but he could tell they were very well cared for.

In the center of the courtyard sat a massive water vat, where about a dozen koi fish swam slowly.

According to Yu Qian, his family was old Beijing. His parents owned a house, but unfortunately, it was an apartment building; he had rented this courtyard specifically for these flowers, birds, fish, and insects.

"Brother Qian, your place is decorated so well. You really have great taste," Zhang Yuan said casually as he looked around.

【Received thanks from Yu Qian: Alcohol Tolerance +1!】

*Hey, Yu Qian is quite generous; he gives out attributes quite frequently.*

"I live in the main room, and the west room is full of miscellaneous items. You can take the east room; I've already tidied it up for you."

This courtyard only had one entrance. The east room was about 30 to 40 square meters, which was much better than a shared rental.

Zhang Yuan wandered around inside and outside the house and familiarized himself with the surrounding hutong. Before dinner, he went back to his old rental to move all his luggage to Pitiao Hutong.

"Buddy, if you're not busy tonight, let's grab a bite and a drink." Brother Qian was hospitable; seeing that Zhang Yuan had finished his move, he came over to invite him.

He also wanted to take the opportunity to get to know his new roommate.

"That sounds great!" Zhang Yuan agreed immediately.

"Alright then, eat at my place. I happen to have a few signature homemade cold dishes."

"Brother Qian, actually, eating out might be better..."

Unable to refuse such hospitality, Zhang Yuan sat at the table half an hour later, facing a spread of Teacher Yu Qian's "masterpieces."

Hawthorn preserves mixed with shredded pear, sweet and sour peppers and bitter melon, cold tossed *cuan tian yang* (poplar shoots), plain tofu with soy sauce...

*I only took a few attribute points from you, and you're trying to poison me...* Looking at the table of "delicacies," Zhang Yuan didn't know how to pick up his chopsticks.

Brother Qian thought he was just being shy and kept urging him to eat.

"Want some alcohol?"

"I'll follow your lead."

After a few drinks, Yu Qian glanced up. Zhang Yuan's face wasn't even red, and his heart wasn't racing. *This guy's tolerance is impressive!*

The conversation flowed, and the two quickly became acquainted.

"You're an actor too?" As they talked, the topic naturally turned to work.

Although Yu Qian's official records were still with the Beijing Troupe of Performing Arts, crosstalk, like other traditional arts, was in decline. The troupe couldn't even pay salaries, so in the early nineties, he had ventured into the film and television industry to find a way out.

*Stories from the Editorial Department, Little Dragon Man, Nine-Nine Returns to One, Seahorse Disco, The World's Ugliest, Li Wei the Official...*

Though he played small supporting roles, he had become a familiar face in several famous productions.

With half a bottle of white liquor in his system, Brother Qian's spirits rose, and his speech became "floaty."

Reciting his roles like a practiced litany, Yu Qian grew more and more excited.

"Zhang Yuan, I've met many people in the industry over the years. If you want to act in the future, find me, and I'll introduce you!"

"Then I'll thank you in advance."

"Don't mention it." Brother Qian lit a cigarette. "No need for thanks. By the way, I haven't asked yet—what kind of shows have you acted in?"

Zhang Yuan recounted the two productions he had filmed and the characters he had played.

After listening, Yu Qian fell silent, taking several deep drags of his cigarette.

*And here I was, lecturing him...*

Two TV series—one had already aired, and the other was a major production where he played a fairly important supporting role.

Yu Qian reviewed his own film and television career; it seemed he hadn't had roles of that caliber to this day.

He shot a glance at Zhang Yuan. Young, handsome, and possessing a maturity in his speech and actions that left no room for criticism.

Even more rare was that he had a great start to his career. This kid's future was limitless!

Comparing himself to him, Brother Qian felt like he had been wandering aimlessly all these years; he hadn't even made as much progress as this youngster.

Seeing the sudden silence, Zhang Yuan roughly guessed what was on his mind.

At this time, Yu Qian had not yet evolved into his "complete form"; he was merely an unknown minor artist.

But in less than five years, after "sacrificing" his wife, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather to the cause of crosstalk, he would become a household name known to the entire nation!

"Brother Qian, have you ever thought about returning to crosstalk?" Zhang Yuan changed the subject.

At the mention of "crosstalk," a spark appeared in Yu Qian's eyes, but it quickly died out.

"Where would I perform?"

"Who would listen?"

"These days, even the crosstalk on the Spring Festival Gala is being replaced by sketches. When you go to perform for audiences on visits, the moment they hear it's crosstalk, the whole crowd boos and tries to drive you away," Brother Qian said gloomily, reminiscing about the past.

Indeed, in those years, in an attempt to save itself, crosstalk had even produced "freaks" like guitar-crosstalk just to attract audiences in an era dominated by song and dance.

Feng Gong and Guo Donglin's performance of "Old Songs, New Tunes" on the 2000 Spring Festival Gala—the one where they played the guitar while performing rhythmic chants—was a representative work of guitar-crosstalk.

But Zhang Yuan knew this was merely the darkness before the dawn. The light would come, and Brother Qian would become a part of that light.

"I've loved traditional performing arts since I was a child. I'll listen!"

"You're actually willing to listen?" Yu Qian slowly set down his cigarette, as if confirming whether Zhang Yuan was joking.

In later years, Yu Qian would describe the years when crosstalk was in its lull using only two words.

Loneliness.

If no one listened to crosstalk, where could he go to perform the craft he had studied for over a decade?

Now, suddenly, a young man said he was willing to listen. A wave of emotion washed over Yu Qian.

At this moment, he felt like he was Yu Boya, and Zhang Yuan was Zhong Ziqi—the perfect soulmate who understands the music of high mountains and flowing water!

【Received thanks from Yu Qian: Crosstalk Theory +3!】