Chapter 162: The Cultural Activity

Seeing that every household in the courtyard had sent someone over, Eldest Uncle finally spoke.

“Here’s the situation. Our district is planning to hold a cultural event, and every street has to send representatives to participate. Today, the subdistrict office informed us that there will be a street-level selection next week. Each courtyard needs to put on a program, and the winning courtyards will represent our street in the district’s cultural event…” Eldest Uncle got straight to the point, stating the reason for the meeting without wasting everyone’s time with a long speech.

He also explained that the district event would be attended by city leaders, possibly even higher-ranking officials.

Second Uncle followed up: “We gathered everyone to discuss what program our courtyard should present.”

Third Uncle chimed in as well, “Of course, we can’t have the entire courtyard participating—that would be too many people. We also need to decide who exactly will be performing, and we should finalize the lineup tonight.”

The crowd immediately buzzed with excitement.

Getting a chance to perform not just at the district level but possibly in front of city leaders? That was tempting for many!

All the adults in the courtyard couldn’t help but look toward Zhou Yimin.

Zhou Yimin was undoubtedly the star youth of their courtyard. It would be hard to justify not having him involved.

However, Zhou Yimin shook his head. “I’m not going.”

Mostly because he found it troublesome.

First, he’d have to take part in the street-level selection, and then there’d be district-level rehearsals—far too much time and energy. As for the chance to be seen by the leadership? He honestly didn’t care.

“Yimin, if you don’t join, who else from our courtyard would feel comfortable stepping up?” Eldest Uncle tried to persuade him.

“That’s right! You’re also full of good ideas. Why don’t you come up with something for what kind of program we should do?” added Second Uncle.

Third Uncle also said, “I say, Yimin, just pick a few people to go up there with you.”

As soon as he said that, everyone who had been hoping to participate turned their eager eyes to Zhou Yimin.

Nobody had any objections if Zhou Yimin got a spot—everyone expected that. Now they were just hoping they could tag along and get a bit of the spotlight themselves.

But Zhou Yimin still shook his head and said, “I suggest we just have the kids in the courtyard participate. The adults are all busy. As for the program? Just have them sing a song!”

He didn’t mind offering ideas, but as for performing himself? No chance. Seeing everyone staring at him, and knowing it’d be awkward not to choose someone, he simply suggested having the children take part instead.

Surely no one would object now, right?

Who would feel okay about competing with little kids for the spotlight?

Everyone fell into stunned silence.

Sending the kids up there… wasn’t that a bit unserious?

Of course, it wasn’t that they had objections. Just as Zhou Yimin had guessed, none of them really had the nerve to fight kids for the opportunity. Besides, those with children were absolutely in favor of the idea.

If their own kids got the chance to shine, what parent wouldn’t be thrilled?

So, the courtyard residents with kids all started voicing their support for Zhou Yimin’s proposal.

“Letting the kids go could work, but what’s the song? You say singing, but what song exactly?” Eldest Uncle felt singing might be too plain.

He guessed there would be a lot of singing acts. With their courtyard sending kids, they’d have no competitive edge—it would be hard to stand out and make it to the district stage.

In short, sending the kids didn’t feel like a solid bet.

Cheng Siguang also supported Zhou Yimin and said, “Yimin’s right! We adults all have to work—who has time to rehearse? It’s better to let the kids do it.”

He had two godsons, after all!

Especially Shengli—he made Cheng so proud. Since he started going to school, he’d already received two commendations, and his teacher even said he’d be representing their school in a math competition.

That made Cheng so happy he’d sometimes treat himself to a drink or two.

So of course he agreed with Zhou Yimin’s suggestion to let the kids perform.

Nearly two-thirds of the courtyard’s households had children. The few would follow the many. Plus, since it was Zhou Yimin’s idea, no one would oppose it openly.

Next, the question became: what song should they sing?

At the time, there were only a dozen or so popular songs to choose from.

Actually, if adults were performing, Zhou Yimin could’ve suggested doing a comedy sketch. But this was still too early for skits to be a thing. The concept wouldn’t even begin to appear until the 1983 Spring Festival Gala, with the mime Eating Chicken.

Skits really broke through during the 1984 Gala, when Chen Peisi and Zhu Shimao performed Eating Noodles. That performance still carried traces of stage acting training but brought laughter to the audience and marked the rise of skits in popular culture.

“How about My Motherland?” someone suggested.

My Motherland was a song from the film Battle on Shangganling Mountain, and everyone had seen that film multiple times. The song was familiar and deeply patriotic, expressing the soldiers’ love for their homeland and their heroic spirit.

“Not a great choice—too many people will sing it. We won’t stand out,” Second Uncle shook his head.

It wasn’t that the song was bad—it was just too common, and that made it unremarkable.

“What about Ode to the Motherland?”

Zhou Yimin was speechless.

Ode to the Motherland was even more famous, okay?

Even the beloved Premier had personally issued a government directive to promote its widespread performance across the country.

In later years, Ode to the Motherland became the ceremonial, opening, or closing piece at countless major events in China.

It was too famous to need any explanation.

Then Zhou Yimin remembered a song that hadn’t been released yet.

We Are the Successors of Comm*nism.

Normally, this song wouldn’t be composed for another two years, as the theme for the film Heroic Little Eight Road.

As the film spread across the country, the song became hugely popular, sung widely among the public.

Later, it was officially designated as the anthem of the Young Pioneers of China.

It was a main-theme song by nature, perfectly suited for the times and ideal for children to sing.

Zhou Yimin didn’t know how to compose music, but he could sing! Even without accompaniment, the song worked well a cappella.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yimin said, “Let’s go with a new song.”

“A new song? What new song?” someone asked in confusion.

People didn’t really keep track of new releases at that time.

“Just write one ourselves. It’s a children’s song—shouldn’t be that hard.”

The residents looked at each other, speechless.

Write a song—not that hard?

Only Zhou Yimin could say something like that.

Everyone knew he was an inventor, so maybe songwriting wasn’t too far out of reach after all.

(End of chapter)