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

But Chang Qing still mustered her courage and spoke in a clear and melodious voice.

"Teacher Song, I was so engrossed in watching you. I felt that even though you didn't make any big movements, the whole courtyard seemed to be captivated by you."

Especially the eyes, I feel... it wasn't acting for anyone else, it was the character coming to life, a light shining from within.

These words are simple, yet they hit the nail on the head.

Old Song and Old Qian exchanged a glance, both seeing the appreciation in each other's eyes; this girl had some understanding.

Zhou Fangyuan also spoke up: "Comrade Chang Qing is right. Teacher Song just said 'a gun in one's heart'."

I was just pondering how to transform between the illusory and the real, and your description of "a light shining from the heart" seems even more vivid.

The two young people, both focused on the same topic, naturally exchanged a glance, then looked at Old Song together, their eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge.

That pure passion for knowledge and skills unique to young people in the 80s is clearly visible at this moment.

Old Song was in a great mood and laughed heartily.

"Good, good! You two little rascals are quite something! One is nimble with her hands, the other is quick with her tongue, and both of you have a sparkle in your eyes!"

Come, come, let me tell you more about the relationship between "having in one's heart" and "seeing through one's eyes"...

He simply went to the courtyard and began explaining and demonstrating to the two eager-to-learn juniors.

Zhou Fangyuan and Chang Qing stood side by side, sometimes watching intently, sometimes exchanging a word of understanding in hushed tones, or sometimes asking questions at the same time.

A gentle breeze before the rain swept through the courtyard, ruffling the hems of their clothes.

Before this master they met by chance, two young hearts, drawn closer by their shared passion and pursuit of knowledge.

It was a kind of resonance and friendship that transcended gender and was extremely pure.

Just then, a few drops of coolness suddenly landed on my forehead.

"Oh, some has fallen." Old Master Qian looked up at the sky.

Before he finished speaking, the raindrops quickly became finer, pattering softly on the brick floor and leaves in the yard.

"Come inside quickly!" Old Song called out.

The group quickly retreated back into the house. The rain was initially light, just a light drizzle.

"This rain doesn't look heavy; it might stop in a little while," Old Song said, looking out the window.

But the weather was not cooperating; the rain not only did not stop, but it fell even more heavily, and the sky became even more gloomy.

Soon, a curtain of rain appeared outside the window, and the sound of the rain could be clearly heard.

"Well, this rain isn't going to stop anytime soon."

Mr. Qian glanced at the clock, then at Chang Qing and Zhou Fangyuan.

"Changqing lives far away, and it's not safe to travel in this heavy rain."

He went behind the door and took out a brown oilcloth umbrella.

The umbrella was made of unbleached coarse cloth soaked in tung oil; it was small, clearly only big enough for two people to squeeze together.

Mr. Qian handed the umbrella to Zhou Fangyuan, giving him a solemn instruction.

"Fang Yuan, I remember you two were going to walk together last time. How about this, you take Chang Qing back, and you two can use this umbrella."

Remember to stay on main roads; they have streetlights and are crowded. Never try to take shortcuts through alleyways—they're dark, and rain will make it even harder to see.

Moreover... lest unrelated people see it and spread it around, which would have a bad influence on you young people.

The words were spoken subtly, but Zhou Fangyuan and Chang Qing both understood them.

In the conservative atmosphere of the 1980s, young men and women often shared an umbrella at night. If someone with ulterior motives saw this, it would inevitably lead to gossip.

Professor Qian was genuinely thinking of their needs and protecting them.

Chang Qing's face flushed red instantly, and she lowered her head.

Zhou Fangyuan also felt this heavy concern. He took the umbrella and nodded earnestly.

"I understand, Teacher Qian. Don't worry, I will make sure Comrade Chang Qing gets home safely, taking the main road."

"Okay." Old Master Qian nodded.

"Hurry up, be careful on the slippery road, it will be even harder to walk when it gets dark."

Old Song also gave a word of advice, looking at the two young people with the kindness of an elder.

Zhou Fangyuan opened his umbrella and stepped into the rain first, tilting the umbrella towards Chang Qing.

"Comrade Chang Qing, let's go."

Chang Qing thanked him softly, carefully stepped under the umbrella, and maintained a proper distance from Zhou Fangyuan.

The two bid farewell to the two elderly people again and then walked side by side into the vast rain.

The brown umbrella, like a moving mushroom cloud, gradually disappeared around the street corner.

Mr. Qian and Mr. Song stood under the eaves, watching the direction they had left in.

Old Song suddenly smiled and said to Old Qian, "Old Qian, your classes haven't yielded much result yet, but I see that you've already gathered two promising students around you."

One is grounded yet brilliant, the other is calm and insightful… a rare find.”

Mr. Qian also gazed at the rain curtain, his eyes looking into the distance.

"Yes... Miao Zi is a good seedling, but I don't know if they can withstand this storm, or if they will get separated."

Old Song patted his old friend on the shoulder: "Children and grandchildren have their own blessings, and young people have their own paths."

If our old bones can help shield us from some wind and rain and point us in the right direction, then our efforts won't have been in vain.

"Come inside, it's still raining."

These words seem to have a deeper meaning, referring both to the rain before our eyes and the road ahead.

The two turned and went back into the house, closing the door to shut out the increasingly heavy rain.

The two young people under the umbrella were moving cautiously.

Raindrops pattered on the oilcloth umbrella, making the dirt road a muddy mess.

The umbrella wasn't big; when the wind blew, the raindrops would trickle down people's necks.

Zhou Fangyuan subtly tilted the umbrella handle towards her, and his own shoulder quickly became wet, feeling cool against his body.

"Move a little further inside the umbrella..."

Chang Qing spoke softly, her ears bright red, her eyes fixed on the muddy puddle at her feet, "Otherwise, I'll catch a cold."

"It's okay, I'm in great shape." Zhou Fangyuan grinned.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two middle-aged women craning their necks to look in his direction from under the windowsill of the convenience store, whispering amongst themselves.

Her heart skipped a beat. She instinctively moved closer to Chang Qing, but then quickly pulled away.

The dirt road was full of potholes. Chang Qing was wearing cloth shoes. He stepped into the puddle and his shoes were immediately soaked.

Zhou Fangyuan reached out to help her, but as soon as his fingertips touched her arm, he pulled back as if he had been electrocuted, and only whispered a reminder.

"Walk slowly, there are many puddles under your feet."

Chang Qing hummed in agreement, the umbrella drooping low to conceal her flushed cheeks.

The rain, typical of the 1980s, is still falling, and in the distance, the sound of a radio from someone's house drifts over, playing Pingju opera in a soft, mournful tone.

The sound of rain only served to highlight the awkwardness between the two of them.

As they approached Chang Qing's courtyard gate, Zhou Fangyuan suddenly stopped, shoved the umbrella into her hand, and said, "Take this, and go back inside quickly."

Chang Qing was taken aback. Just as he was about to decline, he saw him plunge into the rain and run towards the Ma family's house.

Waving his hand and shouting, "Hurry up and go inside! Don't keep your family waiting!"

Watching his retreating figure, Chang Qing, still holding the umbrella handle which was warm to the touch, suddenly smiled.

She knew that the young man left the umbrella for her so that people in her courtyard wouldn't gossip.