In May 1985, the land of northern Liao had just entered early spring.

The vast spring breeze ripples the rolling mountains, bringing a bit of wildness and restlessness.

A young man walked down the rugged mountain road. He was in his early twenties, 1.8 meters tall, with a big and thin skeleton. He wore patched blue cloth clothes and pants on his body, making him look fat and big.

However, his face was white and tender, with red lips and white teeth, and handsome eyebrows. Anyone who saw it would have to praise him: What a spiritual young man.

He was carrying a large wicker basket, and a small head was exposed inside the basket. This was a three or four-year-old girl with slightly yellow hair tied with two little girls. Her little face had long been blown by the spring breeze.

, it looks like potatoes.

"Dad, sing a song." The little girl couldn't stand the loneliness and begged crisply.

"Okay, then let's sing a white dragon horse with its hooves facing west."

Huang Zhong smiled slightly and let go of his throat, and the loud singing drifted in the spring breeze.

The little girl in the backpack also shook her head, and the two little grabs swung left and right: "Dad, Dad, you sang wrongly, you should be heading east to the west."

The little guy said silly, at this time, every household in the countryside had animals, but the little guy had seen how horses walked.

"oh!"

Huang Zhong subconsciously turned around and looked towards the west. There were rolling mountains in the distance, which really corresponded to the ancient poem: Looking at Chang'an northwest, there were countless mountains.

It has been more than four months since I came to this era, a world similar to parallel time and space, and I have returned to the 1980s.

The general development trajectory of this world is exactly the same, but some people have not appeared in history, and there are also some unfamiliar names.

Life is full of unknowns, and perhaps just a small change is enough to affect your life.

In the original world, Huang Zhong always rolled in the entertainment industry, worked as an extra, played music, worked as a singer, filmed, sang, screenwriter and directed. He knew everything, but none of them were top-notch.

After spending decades in the industry, I am still nameless, living an ordinary and even humble life.

Perhaps most people have been through this for the rest of their lives.

As a result, after a drunken relationship, Huang Zhong came to this world for no reason, with a three and a half-year-old daughter Huang Dingding.

The original owner of the body was an educated youth who had been in the 1979 years. Other educated youths returned to the city successfully, but he married Dingxiang, a girl from the local village, so he naturally took root in the countryside.

But the good times didn't last long, and there were unexpected events. When my wife gave birth, she left her dysfunction and left him and her daughter Huang Dingding.

Huang Zhong learned music since he was a child. Three years ago, he was transferred to the commune elementary school to teach music classes and became a glorious private teacher.

In the past two years without a team, private teachers earned work points, rations, and did not earn wages, so their lives would naturally be miserable.

Huang Zhong finally pulled his daughter to three years old, and then during the Chinese New Year, he was drunk and couldn't wake up from drunkenness, and was occupied by the old Huang Zhong's magpie nest.

Zhuangsheng dreams of a butterfly dreams of a Zhuangsheng, where can we distinguish this yellow bell from that yellow bell?

Huang Zhong is very grateful for the arrangement of fate, which allows him to regain his young, strong and energetic body.

He inherited everything from the other party, so he naturally had to assume his due responsibilities. Over the past few months, he has adapted to this era and his current life.

Carrying his daughter, Huang Zhong sang while walking and walking through the Qibali Mountain Road. A small village appeared in front of him. This is the village where he was in the lineup: Team 6 of the Lotus Commune of TL City, called Shizuigouzi by the locals.

The village is sparsely located in more than a dozen families, mostly mud and thatched houses and fenced courtyards, simple and poor. The spring breeze of reform that has been blowing for several years has not had much impact on this small mountain village.

"It's time to get home."

Huang Zhong took off his backpack and pulled his daughter out of the backpack.

The little girl was wearing a small flower jacket and the red peony flowers were gorgeously earthy, which was the most popular pattern at the moment. She ran into the yard with two short legs.

These are three small thatched houses with doors open in the middle and one family lives in the east and west.

When Huang Zhong saw a dilapidated 28-bar in the yard, his eyes lit up: This is Lao Zhao’s return from the theater troupe.

A moment later, on the kang in the east room, Huang Zhong and Lao Zhao sat opposite each other across a kang table, with two dishes, a plate of peanuts and a plate of scrambled eggs with scallions.

The house is simple and tidy, the kang mats are spotless, and the quilts on the ends of the kang are neatly stacked.

There are newspapers on the wall, and one of them is printed with stills from the most popular TV series Journey to the West in recent years. If you look closely, there are also news that the crew collected music and songs.

There was a wall clock on the wall, which rang at half a minute, and it was a little noisy when I was sleeping in the middle of the night.

There are two small cabinets on the ground, with strings, erhu, and suona on the cabinet, indicating that the owner of the house is a rare craftsman in the countryside: the trumpet craftsman.

The only household appliance in the house is on the cabinet cover, which is a Chunlei brand radio.

Two girls, one big and one little girl, were standing under the cabinet cover and listening to the radio. The ticking sound came from inside, and the little speaker started to broadcast!

The two people sitting on the kang looked interesting: Huang Zhong was wearing a white red vest, and the ridges of his pants were patched, but his temperament was as gentle as jade, giving people the feeling of being a cultural person.

The opposite Lao Zhao was in his thirties, wearing a leather jacket, which was now fashionable. However, when he saw his pork waist face was full of pleats and he looked a little anxious, he felt that the local atmosphere was particularly

It is rich, and it is very inconsistent with the dressing.

"Come on, just make a fool of yourself, Xiao Huang, do you have any letter to you?"

Old Zhao asked with a smile, holding the wine cup.

Huang Zhong also pinched the wine cup, touched it gently, and then dries it in one bite, smacked his lips, feeling a little bitter, but it slowly regained its sweetness and tastes good.

This is probably the taste of life. It is bitter first and then sweet. Without bitterness, how can there be sweetness?

Old Zhao also let out a few squeaks, and the five-cent wine cup was at its bottom.

Pick up the chopsticks, picked up a peanut and threw it into his mouth. He chewed it with a big mouth: "Xiao Huang, don't be discouraged. How big is your butt and how big is your shorts. I see your butt, no, I see you

He has big shorts, no, I think you can do it!"

As he was talking, Lao Zhao became excited. He picked up the strings from the cabinet and handed the erhu to Huang Zhong: "Come on, I'll get addicted when I say this. Let's have a whole lot of things."

"Okay!" Huang Zhong replied with a smile.

The prelude sounded, and Erhu and Xianzi were also very compatible, and then the two of them sang one by one:

"You carry the load, I lead the horse!"

"We welcome the sunrise and see the sunset away!"

...

The sound of Huang Zhong is clean, full and powerful, and the words are correct and round.

Lao Zhao's voice was a little fluttering, and it also had a little erotic tone, which sounded a bit funny.

"Where is the way?"

"The road is at your feet, the road is at your feet"

The two brothers sang for a few minutes. Old Zhao was happy and kept slapped his thighs and shouting: "Xiao Huang, your song is amazing. The more you sing, the more you feel it. If I were the director of Journey to the West, I would definitely use your song.

!”

At this time, the two girls lying on the edge of the kang, tilted their heads and said in unison: "Dad, I'm hungry!"

So the two adults picked up a chopstick of eggs and stuffed them into their daughter's mouths.

Both little guys smacked their lips hard: Yes, it smells so good.

They usually can’t eat eggs, but today Lao Zhao came back from the troupe and his wife specially fryed it for him.

Old Zhao stumbled on his chopsticks, then blinked his eyes and asked, "Xiao Huang, I feel a little unsure. Do you think there is a way under our feet?"

Huang Zhong said loudly without hesitation: "Brother Zhao, don't worry, we are at the road of Tongtian under our feet."

At this time, Huang Yaya, who was under the edge of the kang, sang in a singing voice: "I have encountered difficulties and experienced bitterness, and I have walked out of the road to heaven and wide."

Haha, the two adults looked at each other and laughed, and the laughter echoed in the simple and warm hut.

...

At this moment, the capital, China TV Station, this is not the iconic large shorts building later.

In an old office, a young lady in her fifties looked at the heavy envelope in her hand.

The vigorous and powerful font on it says "Comrade Yang Jie, director of Journey to the West (Collection)".

The address of the sender is: Shizuigouzi Village, Lianhua Township, Tl City, Liao Province.

There is also a line of small characters attached at the back: the song demo is included.

Director Yang frowned slightly: Although he has never met a composer who suits her wishes since the filming of Journey to the West in 1982, so the crew had to search for a suitable song in the newspaper.

But even so, a village-level folk music artist still makes her feel ridiculous and irritating when she contributes her articles.

Forget it, since it has been sent, then listen.

Director Yang is a person who is very serious about work, so he opened the envelope, took out the tape inside, and inserted it into a recorder next to him.

The quality of the tape was obviously not very good and the noise was very loud.

After walking for a long time, the erhu sounded, with a sad and grieving voice, and it was like crying and complaining. It grabbed Director Yang's heart hard, and then it turned and kneaded back and forth.

Even after half a century of vicissitudes, Director Yang still felt a deep sense of sadness. If she had been two or three decades ago, she might have tears.

As she listened, she couldn't help but frown: "What's going on? This song is suitable for Journey to the West, and it's almost the same as Dream of the Red Chamber?"

Then, lyrics came from the tape: "One is a fairy flower in Langyuan, and the other is a beautiful jade without flaws..."

Yes, I really sing Dream of the Red Chamber. Isn’t this a mistake? You wrote a song for Dream of the Red Chamber and sent it to the Journey to the West crew. You are not as popular as you, but it seems that Director Wang is also worried about the song.
To be continued...