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

While Xiao Zhang went to pick up his lunchbox and stretch his muscles, Xiao Jun secretly glanced at the skinny monkey.

The other person was squatting on the ground, earnestly rubbing sandpaper on a piece of wood, with a few wood shavings stuck to the tip of their nose, looking like a little mouse that had just stolen some rice.

The "shasha" sound of the skinny monkey sanding the wood blended surprisingly harmoniously with the "sizzling" sound of Jiang Wu and Xiao Pang dipping their brushes in watercolor.

Xiao Jun, holding a ruler, squatted next to the skinny monkey, occasionally reaching out to touch the polished wood.

"This one won't do; there are burrs here."

Skinny Monkey rolled his eyes, but still picked up the sandpaper and rubbed it a few more times.

"What do you know? This is called keeping something as a memento."

He argued stubbornly, but his hands slowed down and he began to grind more carefully.

When Xiaopang was coloring, his hand trembled and he painted Pigsy's belly orange-yellow, which was far from the earthy yellow color in the sample.

The calligraphy brush in his hand fell to the ground with a thud, his eyes instantly reddened, and he squatted down, clutching the hem of his clothes.

"Oh no, oh no, this wood carving is ruined..."

Xiao Jun was about to make a sarcastic remark, but seeing that Xiao Pang was about to cry, he swallowed back the words he was about to say.

Jiang Wu squatted down and touched the color on the wood carving. The pigment had long since seeped into the wood grain and could not be wiped off at all.

He quickly stood up, rummaged in his schoolbag, and pulled out a small, gleaming blade, the kind his dad used to sharpen pencils.

"How about we try this? Maybe we can just scrape off a layer with a blade."

Skinny Monkey and Fatty were both stunned.

Zhou Fangyuan raised an eyebrow, feeling that this was a good opportunity to make the children more harmonious, so he watched quietly.

But then, Jiang Wu scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed.

"But I'm afraid to use a knife..."

Without saying a word, Xiao Jun opened his hand, took the small knife blade, and carefully placed it against the surface of the wood carving. He moved his wrist gently, and it was surprisingly steady.

He scraped very lightly, only rubbing off the colored surface of the wood to reveal the light yellow wood shavings underneath, without damaging the round belly at all.

After scraping, he snatched the sandpaper from the skinny monkey's hand and quickly rubbed it twice to smooth the scraped area.

"Alright, repaint it," he tossed the wooden carving to the chubby boy, his chin held high.

"Be careful next time, don't cause me any trouble during the inspection."

Little Fatty looked at the rescued Pigsy and burst into laughter through his tears. He quickly dipped his brush in yellow paint and began to carefully paint over the pigsy.

As night deepened, only this dormitory room remained lit.

Although Jiang Wu's parents believed in the young man selling wood carvings, they didn't dare let their child come out for too long.

He went home early, and Xiao Jun took over his work.

Zhou Fangyuan leaned against the wall, holding a half-open notebook of Qian Lao in his hand, but his gaze was gentle as he looked into the corner.

Xiao Zhang leaned against the door frame, holding an enamel mug and taking small sips of water, a relaxed smile on his face.

The two of them looked at the three small figures huddled together.

"Brother Zhou," Xiao Zhang nudged Zhou Fangyuan's arm and whispered.

"Your trick works better than a lottery."

Zhou Fangyuan smiled, his gaze never leaving the three children: "Tomorrow's goods are enough to sell."

As dawn broke and the alleyway still held the chill of the previous night, Zhou Fangyuan escorted the three children he had helped home one by one.

Everyone had the agreed-upon money for popsicles tucked into their pockets and were holding special little wooden carvings.

The children were full of energy, their eyes brighter than stars.

Just as Zhou Fangyuan had predicted, business was even booming today than yesterday.

The news spread like wildfire, reaching all the nearby alleys and courtyards overnight.

When he set up his stall again, before the designated time had even arrived, it was already surrounded by layers of people.

There were familiar faces who hadn't bought anything yesterday, but even more were new customers who had come after hearing the news.

Its popularity naturally attracted envy and imitation.

Before noon, two or three more people set up stalls nearby selling wood carvings, all of them depicting Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie.

But when people compared them, they immediately shook their heads.

Those imitations are either made of rough wood or carved crookedly, with stiff expressions on the figures, and those that are colored are even more gaudy and garish.

Even compared to the roughest small wood carvings, it is far inferior.

"This isn't the Monkey King, it's more like a little monkey from a local temple!"

An old man's blunt comment drew laughter from those around him.

The queue at Zhou Fangyuan's stall had grown even longer.

A few clever-looking young men with a knack for small businesses approached Zhou Fangyuan and offered him cigarettes.

However, Zhou Fangyuan waved his hand and declined, saying that it was inappropriate for him to smoke with so many children around him.

Seeing this, the young man put away his cigarette and whispered to each other:

"Comrade, your skills are amazing! We'd like to buy some goods from you to sell in Dongcheng and Haidian districts. The price is negotiable, and we're sure to make more money than if we sold them retail!"

Zhou Fangyuan didn't stop the sandpaper in his hand; he just looked up and smiled, his tone gentle yet clear:

"Thank you all for your kind words, but this work is meticulous, it's all done by hand, one cut at a time, so it can't be done in large quantities."

After several rounds of discussion, the group finally decided to book 20 smaller numbers.

As the young man left, a hint of regret lingered in his eyes. He turned back and said one last thing:

"If you can make a few more pieces someday, as long as they're as exquisite, I'll still buy them at a high price!"

As the sun set and the products were almost sold out, Zhou Fangyuan was surrounded by more activity than usual.

Not only did the child who helped yesterday come again, but a whole bunch of kids from the alley also followed.

They all came because they heard that "helping Brother Zhou polish wood carvings will earn you popsicles."

They all watched with eager eyes, and those who were more diligent helped to tidy up the things and clean the floor.

Zhou Fangyuan sighed, "This won't do. This isn't the right direction for things."

He said sternly, "You help me with the work, and I'll give you some ice cream, understand?"

"Understood!"

The children cheered with joy.

To Zhou Fangyuan's surprise, Jiang Wu, Xiao Jun, and the girls who had formed a group yesterday also came.

Behind them followed several more neatly dressed, somewhat shy children from the compound.

Jiang Wu scratched his head and said, "Brother Xiao Zhou, they heard about what happened yesterday and were very curious to come and see."

The children from the compound nodded quickly, their eyes fixed curiously on the unfinished wooden blocks on the stall.

Zhou Fangyuan smiled as he looked at the children.

These days, children have an instinctive yearning for "craftsmanship" and "creation," regardless of whether they live in a hutong or a courtyard.

He called the children to sit around the folded blue cloth and began to demonstrate with a wooden blank.

Although it's just the simplest polishing, there's a certain skill involved.

The children watched intently. At that moment, the hustle and bustle of buying and selling faded away, leaving only the tranquility and joy of the passing down of skills.

After finishing sanding the wooden blanks in his hand, Zhou Fangyuan picked out a few sturdy ones and returned to the guesthouse together.

When Xiao Zhang saw so many people wanting to learn the craft, he was overjoyed.

Other guests from the guesthouse also came over to watch. After a long day, they looked at the children with warm smiles on their faces.

Business is booming, and the timber is being used up quickly.

Zhou Fangyuan took several "medium-grade" wood carvings that had already become well-known and received high praise, and went to find several other film crews in the vicinity.

Of course, he didn't go to the manager in charge, but instead sought out the master craftsmen in the props or art department.

The master craftsmen didn't pay much attention at first, but once they took a look at the wood carving, they couldn't take their eyes off it.

"Hey! This monkey is really something! His knife skills are impressive! Young man, you've got some talent."

"Haha, Master, this was carved by Youqing from our group. He's the one who often carves under the old locust tree in our courtyard."

Zhou Fangyuan then suggested that he wanted to use these wood carvings to exchange for some leftover, high-quality scraps of wood that they had used to make props.

Soon, Zhou Fangyuan traded several wood carvings for several large bundles of finely textured pear and jujube wood, and even a small piece of mahogany scraps.

It's enough to last for quite a while, and its quality is a step up from the previous catalpa wood.

Five days flew by amidst the laughter of children, the exclamations of customers, the rustling of carving knives, and the exchange of skills that transcended social classes.

The children living in the compound became increasingly familiar with Zhou Fangyuan and Xiao Zhang.

Wang Xiaojun was even more enthusiastic and invited them to his home for a visit.

On the sixth day, the courtyard became lively... or more accurately, noisy.

Li Chengru shouted orders, "Load the precision equipment first! Put the camera crew's boxes in the first truck! Handle them with care!"

Two grass-green Jiefang brand trucks were parked at the gate of the compound. The white paint on the side of the trucks that read "Beijing Film Studio" had long been worn away and faded.

As night fell, the courtyard remained brightly lit, and everyone was packing their belongings.

Of course, except for this dormitory.

Xiao Zhang is still working hard to finish the piece, which is a special wood carving that he promised to Xiao Jun's father.

Zhou Fangyuan piled the small bills and cents he had earned in the past few days on the old wooden table.

They resemble a small, colorful hill.

Besides this small mountain of paper, there was also a letter that had just been received on the table.

The handwriting on the letter was crooked and uneven, but it was written with great care.

The signature reads: "My younger sister, Zhou Shuxiu."