Chapter Twenty-Two: A Welcome Sight

"Perhaps he was the milkman passing beneath your building one morning, or the courier handing you a parcel on some afternoon, or maybe the waiter who served you a delicious meal at a restaurant. It is these ordinary people, along with a group of college freshmen, who make up the principal cast of the play I wish to introduce today.

I hold no prejudice against their professions. On the contrary, I watch this play with deep respect, for in my view, these are the true performers, far more so than any celebrity or star. They earn meager wages, toil through arduous tasks, snatching whatever free moments they can. They place their children beneath the stage, their tools of livelihood at its edge, all for the sake of their dreams, offering up a sincere performance.

Professional critics might deem them insignificant, call their acting superficial, riddled with flaws and mistakes, but I hear success in the laughter of the few spectators present. Our films win awards at major festivals across the world, our traditional drama is gaining popularity internationally, and the twenty-first century undoubtedly belongs to the Republic. Yet behind the prosperity, problems abound.

Since the 1990s, our drama industry has been shrinking. Though state-run theaters like the People's Art Theatre and the Army Art Theatre persist, both attendance and business have hit rock bottom. Some claim our audiences lack artistic appreciation—nonsense, forgive my bluntness, but I can't help it. Should we blame the diners if the food is poorly prepared?

Three Dreams Theatre, a private venue struggling for three years just to survive, cannot afford any publicity. Frankly, I am not so cheap that a little money could persuade me to promote it. Yet even if I had to pay, I would gladly help. They truly devote themselves to drama, producing plays beloved by the common people.

'Charlotte's Troubles,' this play may not carry lofty significance, but within its strange story lies the truth of life. I cannot claim it is a masterpiece, but it left a lasting impression—of the story, and of these people.

On the final night of September, Liu Qing, the most acerbic and aloof critic in the Republic’s film and television circle, posted this review on his Speedcast account.

Liu Qing had been invited by Professor Cui Jingfang, a long-time friend. After the daytime rehearsal, the theater finalized the premiere date for the new play. There was no widespread promotion; publicity depended solely on Wang Lei and his group distributing flyers and small advertisements on the streets.

As Liu Qing’s Speedcast post circulated among many, Three Dreams Theatre began to gain a hint of fame within the performing arts world, and at least among the students of the Capital Film Academy. Meanwhile, Wang Lei announced the upcoming play on his own Speedcast, and Ma Dongmei immediately shared the post. Though she had yet to see how her own story would be portrayed, the lively young woman knew that anything Lei did was worth supporting.

Ma Dongmei even pleaded with the senior members of the national team to help promote it on Speedcast. This brought Three Dreams Theatre some recognition among volleyball fans, especially since the Republic's women's volleyball team—fresh from winning the World Grand Prix—collectively shared the news, suggesting a connection to the theater.

On the first day of October, ticket sales for the new play began. Ma Dongmei had returned to the country but had not yet arrived in the capital; the national team was still in eastern Zhejiang, wrapping up their post-competition summary, which would take another day or two.

Wang Lei set the ticket price at two hundred yuan, relatively inexpensive compared to the minimum four hundred charged by the People's Art and Army Art theaters in the capital. Three Dreams Theatre was just starting out, unsure whether the new play would be a hit, so they couldn't risk losing potential audiences by pricing tickets too high.

Unexpectedly, the tickets for the debut performance on October third sold out as soon as they were released on the first. This was thanks to Liu Qing’s Speedcast publicity and Professor Cui Jingfang’s reputation at the Capital Film Academy.

According to their plan, 'Charlotte's Troubles' would be performed every other day—a fairly intensive schedule, considering that unlike film or television, stage drama requires the actors to perform live. Each two-hour show consumes much of the lead actors’ energy and spirit.

On October first, tickets for the third were pre-sold, and on October second, tickets for the fifth. On October third, as Ma Dongmei boarded a plane to return to the capital, 'Charlotte's Troubles,' a play new both to Three Dreams Theatre and to this era, finally premiered.

Zhang San and the main cast, along with Wang Lei, faced the first audience—primarily students from the Capital Film Academy and local police officers—with nerves and anticipation.

After the preview, 'Charlotte's Troubles' gained a favorable reputation among students and police at the academy and nearby station. Those who had seen it praised the play and promoted it to their friends and colleagues.

Though two hundred yuan was not exactly cheap for students, Wang Lei wisely offered a half-price discount for them before the official opening. Hearing the waves of laughter rise from the theater, accompanied by Old Zhang’s orchestration, Wang Lei knew his first step was the right one.

Though this path seemed unconventional, Wang Lei was clear about his goals. With Ma Dongmei’s rising fame, he knew he would become the subject of scrutiny and criticism. No matter what he did, most people saw him as “disabled”—a fact he could not change.

'Charlotte's Troubles' was Wang Lei’s experiment. He wanted to know how people would view his relationship with Ma Dongmei. Some might say they should simply live their lives and ignore others, but in this society, Wang Lei and Ma Dongmei could never completely detach themselves. If they wished for happiness together, they needed the acceptance of the majority, and that was inevitable.