Republic of China drama

In the corner of Tongcheng, a private museum called "Republic of China Theater" is in full swing.

It was rebuilt from the "Hundred Flowers Theater Building" in the Republic of China. In addition to the old collections, the building itself is also an exhibit.

The multi-eave roof, the dome-shaped caisson inside, the old carved railings and pillars that have not been repaired, make a sense of thick and condensed.

The first floor of the museum is a stage, the hanging curtain is soft and silky, and the stage is empty and lonely.The owner of the museum invites the theater troupe to perform here every Saturday, and you can watch it for free if you book tickets in advance.

Today is Monday, just to avoid the peak period, so I won't be sweating like usual.

Jiang Zhiyi walked in the direction of the crowd.

She was in her early 30s, and she was very beautiful, with a pair of deep amber pupils, like lake water dyed by the setting sun.

Her long hair was neatly coiled up, in the style of a strong woman, and she was wearing a neatly pressed Versace women's suit, with no creases visible from the eye.

She is the most famous businessman in Tongcheng. She started from scratch and founded Tongcheng New Energy Drive Co., Ltd. five years ago. With the strategy of major customers and her own technology, she has risen rapidly. At present, her global partners have reached [-] countries.

But when she stepped into this museum, she was just a fan of Peking opera hiding in the city, or in other words, she was just the adopted child of the two museum owners.

"Grandpa Mu," Jiang Zhiyi helped the old man beside him, and politely stood on the crowded side, "Go slowly."

Having not slept for two consecutive nights made her eyes bloodshot. If you look closely, she is wearing a black gauze on her forearm, which is a filial piety for her elders.

"I'm fine. I'm an old man. I don't feel good about my arms and legs. I'm more open to my junior sister's departure. Death is just a natural law. It's just knowing that you have suffered."

Mu Qing, who was over [-] years old, Jiang Zhiyi's two deceased grandmothers, best friends of Jiang Wanwan and Gu Qingying, looked at this lady who had been busy for more than a month with pity.

His voice is strong, and his words are clear and loud, probably because of his many years of singing in operas.

A good Peking Opera actor speaks with his mouth.

This is what Grandma Jiang used to say when she was alive.

Jiang Zhiyi showed a rare smile: "Grandpa Mu, I'm not bitter, but Grandma Jiang left in a hurry. The procedures for heritage donation and foundation establishment are too cumbersome, and I haven't had time to visit the museum."

The two grandmothers who adopted her are a pair of homosexuals who are deviant in the eyes of ordinary people.

They all bloomed in the Republic of China with diverse cultures, love and hate ups and downs, and finally stayed hand in hand for 60 years.

Two years ago, after Lu Qingying passed away after her 90th birthday, Jiang Wanwan endured the pain and handed over their plans one by one, and she also left last month.

"Understood, your Grandmother Jiang handed over the museum to me, but in fact, she wanted to hand it over to you." Mu Qing said.

Surrounding the stage is a glass booth with various collections inside.

Jiang Zhiyi followed him and stood still.

"What are your plans for the Hundred Flowers Theater in the future?"

There is a gilded plaque with lace hanging in the museum, and the inscription on it is "Republic of China Theater Shadow". Only those old friends who can't forget the past prefer to call it Baihua Theater.

"The grandmothers said, don't let this place be full of commercial atmosphere, the theater troupe will still provide." Listen carefully, there is still a trace of resentment in Jiang Zhiyi's tone.

Mu Qing laughed a few times.

After all, the girl is still too young to hide it from the old man's ears.

He stretched out his hands trembling slightly, and the pads of his rough and wrinkled hands brushed against the glass, as if brushing over everything old, even... an old friend.

"Your grandpa Mu has already rejected nearly a hundred people who have been in charge of this year and said they want to join or contribute to the improvement."

Jiang Zhiyi didn't say a word, his eyes fell on the things that the old man was reluctant to part with.

It was a set of emerald emerald inlaid pearl heads lying quietly, the white pearls were warm and delicate, with some iridescence faintly visible, and the emerald emerald grains were fine and shiny.

It took a lot of effort to store this radiant treasure. Careless control of the illumination of the lighting will affect the preservation of the exhibits. From the perspective of tourists, deep anti-glare treatment must be carried out, as well as the quality of the display and glass cabinets... in many ways.

"The exhibits here are all treasures, and it's hard to get money in exchange. If you want to pay for the entrance fee, you will definitely earn a lot of money based on the traffic, right?"

Mu Qing looked away.

"Grandpa Mu, I feel that the income of the museum has been only going out but not going in. This is against the principle of business."

Mu Qing was not in a hurry to refute.

With his hands behind his back, he walked to the corner of the glass cabinet with the crowd, just like he got up every morning, first looked at the little green face by himself, and then looked at the old black and white photo in the corner photo frame as if nothing had happened.

Day after day, year after year.

"Son, not everything must conform to the so-called principles to be correct."

He stopped talking about education, and instead pointed to the wooden photo frame whose edges were smoothed repeatedly.

Inside, separated by the photo frame and the two layers of glass of the booth, is a rare group photo of Liyuan.

Mu Qing identified her: "The one in the middle is your grandmother Jiang, the one next to you wearing a cheongsam is your grandmother Gu, and the one on the side in the first row is me. Now, except for me, everyone in this photo is no longer alive. .”

The photo has a blurred sense of age. The background is an old tree, wrinkled and forked, with a patch of small flowers, which looks like a tassel tree.

Jiang Wanwan was dressed in a costume, standing gracefully and full of charm. Lu Qingying beside her was wearing a long cheongsam, with fashionable short perm hair, wavy hairstyle with hands, and cold and arrogant eyes.

Their brilliance is dazzling without deliberate effort.

It can be said that it is peerless.

Mu Qing's turbid eyes moved to Jiang Zhiyi's pair of amber pupils, those pupils with just the right age and infinite possibilities.

"Would you like to hear me tell that story?"