Returning to the 82 Mountain Village: An Encounter with the Journey to the West Film Crew at the Beg

The green train lay like a long dragon on the tracks, and the doors of the carriages were crowded with people scrambling to get on.

The train conductor, standing on the platform, repeatedly shouted expressionlessly, "Tickets! Show me your tickets! Don't block the door with your luggage! Hurry up!"

"This way! Our carriage is here!" shouted the crew members in front.

Zhou Fangyuan followed Director Yang and the others as they squeezed through, stepped onto the shaky metal footboard, and crawled into the carriage.

As he crawled into the carriage, an even stronger odor instantly enveloped him.

The leather seats have accumulated years of body odor, coal dust, sweat, and the smell of cheap cigarettes and food wafting from who-knows-where.

These aromas are incredibly rich and complex, far surpassing those of Lengshuijiang East Station.

The aisle was already crowded with people, and the seats were almost full.

The luggage racks were crammed with all sorts of packages, and even the seats were stuffed with things.

They found the rows of hard seats reserved by the film crew, but some of the seats had already been taken by people who had boarded the train earlier. It took some negotiation and adjustments to finally settle down.

Zhou Fangyuan's seat was by the aisle. He stuffed his bundle into the luggage rack and sat down.

The young people traveling with us looked out the window excitedly, while some had already begun to complain about the crowds and the stuffiness.

After a long while, the train suddenly shook violently, and a loud "bang" was heard from the joint.

Then, a long, resonant whistle tore through the noise of the platform.

"Waaaaah!"

The car body began to move slowly.

People on the platform ran, waved, and then quickly retreated through the train windows to see them off.

The outlines of the buildings and the dim streetlights gradually receded into the distance.

The clanging sound of the wheels grew faster and louder, drowning out the noise inside the carriage.

Zhou Fangyuan's face was turned to the side of the car window, and outside the window, the familiar hills of Hunan Province rushed by.

We're already on the train to the future...

……

"Director Yang, let me tell you, everyone's eyes widened in amazement!"

By this time, the train had been moving for quite some time, and Ma Dehua's loud voice pierced through the noise of the carriage.

"An older woman said, in a tone that went something like this, 'You don't even need to pretend to be Pigsy, you can just play yourself!'"

"Xiao Zhou, do I sound right at imitating that tone?"

Zhou Fangyuan looked away, his lips drooping downwards, while Director Yang and Lao Xiao were amused by his appearance and laughed heartily.

"When I cast you, didn't I say you had a natural talent for acting?"

"Yes, yes, Director Yang made a great choice! Hahaha."

Director Yang continued, reminiscing.

"That day, Dehua took the initiative to audition. After the audition, I praised him for his spirited acting and immediately cast him. A few days later, I found out that he was a Hui.

It's against religious doctrine for a Hui Muslim to play a pig, so I wanted to replace him for his sake. Well, when he found out, he got furious.

"Hey! Look at me, how could I not become famous? Faith is faith, and art is art!"

Just as everyone was joking around, Zeng, the production assistant, squeezed through from another carriage with his notebook.

"Director Yang, Comrade Xiao Zhou..." Old Zeng's voice was somewhat apologetic.

"I have an update for you. Starting from Yangzhou this time, including Xiao Zhou, we have four more comrades. The original guesthouse beds have already been used by other film crews, and they are also short of beds... We really can't make room for them now."

The laughter and chatter subsided.

Director Yang looked up, his brows furrowing slightly: "Old Zeng, do your best to coordinate and overcome the difficulties. If all else fails, see if there's anyone who can temporarily squeeze in?"

They looked at each other, and no one spoke for a moment.

"Otherwise, I'll contact the military and ask about the guesthouses over there..."

In its previous life, filming Journey to the West already required a huge amount of money, and the food, clothing, housing, and transportation of the crew were even more money-devouring.

To save money, Director Yang put aside his rigid approach and sought help from old comrades or others to solve the crew's living problems.

In the early 1980s, accommodation in Beijing was already scarce. Although it was said to be a reservation, it was always on a first-come, first-served basis. The film crew also had limited funds, which made it a real problem.

Zhou Fangyuan was aware of this situation.

In his previous life, he had heard how harsh the conditions were on film sets, with some people sleeping in offices and others sleeping on the floor.

Just as he was about to speak, Zhang Jin, who had been very quiet the whole way, spoke first.

He raised his hand shakily and said, "Come live with me. There's a small bed in the room, enough room."

"Hey, isn't Wang Yue in your room too? The three of you are crammed into one room."

Then, Ma Dehua turned to look at everyone and continued speaking.

"Don't worry, Xiao Zhou, come here."

My courtyard house is right under the Dongsi Archway. Although the area isn't very wealthy, it's definitely better than your little house, Jinlai.

The neighbors in the courtyard are all longtime residents, making it lively and safe.

The conditions are a bit basic; there's no separate kitchen or toilet. You have to get water from the communal tap in the yard, and you have to leave the yard to use the toilet. Would you still like to come?

Zhou Fangyuan thanked them sincerely after hearing this, but he was afraid of bothering the uncles and aunts.

Ma Dehua waved her hand and quickly said she wouldn't disturb her.

Director Yang smiled with satisfaction.

"Good, Dehua's idea is good. It not only solves the problem, but also allows Comrade Xiao Zhou to learn opera from you."

Xiao Zhou, you stay with Dehua for now. Once your accommodation application is approved, you can move to your own place.

With the matter resolved, Old Zeng breathed a sigh of relief and repeatedly said "good" to everyone.

A rare smile appeared on Zhang Jinlai's face, though he quickly suppressed it, the light in his eyes was unmistakable.

Apart from Director Yang, no one else present knew.

In fact, Zhang Jinlai was very envious of Zhou Fangyuan and liked him a lot. He also wanted to discuss monkey opera with him.

I'm just too shy; I don't really dare to.

"Xiao Zhou, if you need any bedding or washbasins later, just ask me for them! Although... they're all old too."

"The old one is fine," Zhou Fangyuan replied happily to Lao Zeng.

The atmosphere came alive again.

As night deepened, everyone huddled together, trying to get as much rest as possible.

It was pitch black outside the window, with only occasional flashes of light.

Zhou Fangyuan sat on the hard seat, his back and waist starting to ache.

He could hear Ma Dehua mumbling her lines and saw Zhang Jinlai's hand tremble twice.

The two of them were probably still thinking about their roles in their dreams.

Director Yang is still awake.

By the occasional glimmer of light from outside the window, you could see that she was still looking at the manuscript, her pen moving as if she were refining a certain part of the plot.

Zhou Fangyuan recalled an interview he had read in his previous life.

Years later, someone asked Director Yang Jie: How did you manage to persevere through such hardship?

She said: Because everyone has a fire burning in their heart.

Now, he is in this fire, being both scorched and warmed.

It was 2 a.m. when the train carriage was at its hottest.

The child's crying started again, and the mother held the child and gently soothed him, while she herself was covered in sweat.

Zhang Jinlai suddenly moved.

He carefully got up from his seat and moved with difficulty toward the connecting area between the carriages.

Zhou Fangyuan saw that he was holding a towel and a toothbrush cup, probably intending to wash his face with cold water.

Five minutes later, Zhang Jin returned, his hair soaking wet, making it seem as if he hadn't even brought the towel.

He noticed that Zhou Fangyuan was also awake and spoke softly.

"There's a tap at the connection point... with cold water, you can wipe it clean."

When Zhang Jinlai spoke, he didn't look at anyone. He seemed to be talking to himself, or explaining, or sharing information.

Zhou Fangyuan understood what he meant: "I'll give it a try."

It was definitely cooler when I walked to the connecting area between the carriages.

The night breeze blew in through the cracks in the door, carrying the smell of coal smoke, but it was much fresher than inside the carriage.

The faucet is old-fashioned; when you turn it on, the water flow is very strong. Although it's not particularly cold, it still makes you feel cooler after washing your face.

Zhou Fangyuan soaked a towel in cool water, wiped the sweat off his face and neck, and then placed the towel on his face for a few seconds.

When he returned to his seat, he felt half alive again.

After a long while, the sun began to emerge.

Light streamed through the car windows, gradually making everything inside the carriage clearer.

Tired faces, wrinkled clothes, sunflower seed shells scattered all over the ground, and people still fast asleep.

An announcement came over the loudspeaker: "Passengers, the next stop is Beijing Station..."