The Temperature of the Spring Festival Gala
Old Wang was assigned to be the lighting technician at the highest altitude branch venue of the Spring Festival Gala this year. Saying it's a branch venue, it's actually just a stage built on a snowy mountain peak, surrounded by howling winds and endless snow. He was wrapped in three layers of down jackets, but his hands and feet were still numb from the cold.
"Old Wang, make the lights brighter! More vibrant! More festive!" the director's hoarse voice came from the walkie-talkie. Old Wang made a face at the snowy ground on the screen, his fingers dancing on the cold control panel. He knew that the director wasn't really asking for vibrancy, but just something to fit the "Spring Festival Gala" label.
He thought of the warm heated brick bed at home, the New Year's Eve dinner his wife was preparing, and the new toy his son was clamoring for. These warm images contrasted sharply with the cold world in front of him. He sighed, thinking that the liveliness of this Spring Festival Gala seemed to have nothing to do with him.
"Old Wang, what's going on with that snowflake effect? It looks like ice chips! Change it!" The director started roaring again on the walkie-talkie. Old Wang silently adjusted the parameters, thinking, aren't the snowflakes on this snowy mountain already icy enough? Do we have to use special effects to simulate them?
He looked up at the starry sky above. The stars here were much brighter than the ones he saw in the city, as if they were within reach. He had dreamed of becoming an astronaut when he was a child, of reaching the stars. But now, he was here lighting up a snowy mountain, making it look more like a stage.
"Old Wang, get ready to switch to a close-up!" the director urged on the walkie-talkie. Old Wang's finger slipped and the camera was pointed at himself. A stubbly, red-faced, cold face appeared on the screen. He grinned at the camera, revealing two rows of teeth turned white from the cold.
"Old Wang, what are you doing!" The director's voice was filled with anger on the walkie-talkie, "Switch the camera back now!" Old Wang ignored the director. He spoke slowly into the camera, "Hello everyone, Happy New Year!" His voice trembled a little, but it was clear. "I'm at the highest altitude branch venue, wishing you all a happy new year!"
He bowed to the camera and then turned off the microphone. The director's roar was deafening on the walkie-talkie.
Old Wang took off his headphones, pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket, and slowly began to eat it. He looked at the snow-covered mountain lit up by the lights in the distance, thinking that perhaps true warmth doesn't come from the stage, but from within. He stood up and shouted at the snowy mountain, "Happy New Year!" His voice echoed in the empty valley.
Suddenly, he saw a huge smiling face appear on the snow mountain. It was projected by lights. He realized that he had just accidentally pointed the camera towards the snow mountain and the smiling face was a projection of his own grin. He was stunned for a moment, then started to laugh, the laughter unusually loud in the silent snowy mountain.
He suddenly felt that this Spring Festival Gala at the highest altitude wasn't so cold after all.