Traveling troupes of entertainers give audiences in remote grassland areas shows to remember, Deng Zhangyu reports.

As Guo Liru and her troupe approached a village in a remote area in the Inner Mongolia autonomous region last month, the crackle of firecrackers erupted in the air. This was a signal to the villagers that a troupe had arrived, and a call to gather and watch their performance.

Two decades ago, when Guo journeyed to remote grassland pastures, the signal was delivered in even more picturesque fashion. Residents would ride out a day in advance of their arrival, galloping from yurt to yurt to spread word to each nomadic family: "Come tomorrow, the performance is not to be missed".

Regardless of the method of notification, a crowd of enthusiastic spectators still awaits Guo and her troupe, and the 59-year-old singer's passion for her audience remains unchanged.

She is a performer with one of the Ulan Muqir troupes of the Inner Mongolia autonomous region. Meaning "red bud "in Mongolian, the Ulan Muqir troupes originated in this vast grassland. They travel from one encampment to another, performing for herders who live in remote regions.

"No matter how far the distance, we make our way to the same pastures to perform each year. Our audiences are like family to us," Guo says.

After each performance, elderly women often kiss her on the head and invite her to return the following year. With the grassland as its stage and the vast sky as its backdrop, the troupe's repertoire includes singing, dancing and performing small skits, all inspired by the daily lives of local people.

The performers travel to pastoral areas in a bus or truck loaded with their equipment. Their longest journey, to the remote Alshaa League in the far western reaches of Inner Mongolia, took an entire month.

In the 1990s, performances didn't start until after 9 pm, as herders first needed to milk their cows. Songs echoed through the night, continuing until the stroke of midnight. Passionate herders danced alongside them and some even stepped forward to join in the singing.

"They wouldn't come right out and ask for another song, but you could see it in their faces — they wanted more. The excitement would keep going until 1 in the morning," Guo says, recalling moments that touched her.

"We were once invited to stay in a yurt and cooked together with the family. It felt like a celebration, and they offered us their best food," she says.

The genuine emotions that come from connecting with the audience on such a personal level have fueled her performances with her Ulan Muqir troupe for decades.

The first Ulan Muqir troupe was formed in the Sonid Right Banner in Xiliin Gol League in 1957, with the mission of entertaining communities with limited access to cultural events. It engaged with residents, incorporating local stories and culture into its performances.

After decades of development, there are now 75 Ulan Muqir troupes in Inner Mongolia, with about 3,500 performers like Guo giving thousands of performances around the region each year, according to local government data.

Xing Lili, director of the regional-level Ulan Muqir troupe of Inner Mongolia, says that the troupe gives around 100 performances every year. Apart from entertaining herders in remote areas, the troupe has performed at local communities, nursing houses, villages and primary schools in recent years. Being mobile allows the troupe to tailor its performances to meet the demands of different groups.

Typically, each troupe is small, consisting of about a dozen versatile members, all skilled in various forms of entertainment. In recent years, these troupes have extended their reach, performing for bedridden seniors in nursing homes, staging shows in communities about fraud awareness, and visiting border outposts to boost the morale of young soldiers.

"As long as the audiences need us, we will continue our service," Xing says.

Bao Rui joined Xing's troupe after graduating from college in 2016. She enjoyed the feeling of being needed by the audience, and the genuine connection that comes from direct interaction with people.

Unlike large crowds for which actors perform on grand stages, her audience sometimes consists of just a handful of people. "Even if there's only one person, we must see the performance through to the end," she says.

The 30-year-old can dance, host shows and play instruments. She once danced for an elderly bed-bound woman in a nursing home. After watching her performance, the elderly woman held her hand and kept thanking her with tears in her eyes.

The troupe members frequently travel to perform in distant villages. On their way to a performance once, their bus passed a herdsman whose truck had overturned, scattering his horses. They stopped to help, with some rounding up the horses. Having grown up in pastoral areas, these ethnic Mongolian actors are adept at setting up tents and herding horses.

When they perform in villages, they often find that many of the residents are elderly, as the younger generations have left for work in cities. People ask the actors to help them fix their mobile phones and appliances, and sometimes they even assist in setting up tents.

"All these experiences are interesting, although sometimes the conditions are hard. I feel closely connected to the lives of my audiences, and their stories inspire us to put on good performances," Bao says.

Many ethnic groups, including Mongolians, Ewenki, Daur and Oroqen, make their home in this vast grassland expanse. The troupe weaves the distinctive stories and traditions of each group into its performances, a creative endeavor that has earned it numerous awards over the years.

Guo is a member of the Daur ethnic group. Over the years, she has learned several languages through her performances.

"Speaking in the local language helps close the distance with them quickly. It also enriches my own artistry," Guo says.

She grew up in a yurt in the pastoral areas of eastern Inner Mongolia. From childhood, she watched performances by Ulan Muqir troupes, which planted the seed in her heart to one day join them.

"I was touched by their desire to perform for people in need. It's important that this spirit is kept alive and passed down through generations of people living on the grasslands," she says.