Adrian and the Autumn of Han Qiu Chapter 7

The camera was filmed in all directions in a narrow space, with the interior of the sentry post being filmed back and forth. The scene was so tense that it was breathtaking, and at the same time, it made the audience sigh deeply at the reality of the division of the peninsula between North and South. The audience and the beautiful Sophie saw that the commanders of both sides knew the inside story of the gunfight. But they were unwilling to disclose the truth. Li Banzhang and Sergeant Wu would rather bury the truth in their hearts. But in the end, Li Banzhang and his men committed suicide because of the unrelieved guilt and humanitarian passion. Sophie, the daughter of the Korean People's Army prisoners of war, fell into bottomless sorrow.

The director of the film announced: "We not only used the mysterious film structure to create a tense atmosphere, but also used scenes of memories and humorous interludes to evoke forgotten humanitarianism. Then the film ends in tragedy."

Director Park's adherence to and breakthrough in the visual language of the film show the talent of a new generation of Korean directors. The shooting cost of up to 3 billion won did not burden the film but brought great benefits. After fully utilizing the entertainment function of the film, Director Park used a photo in the final shot to condense the tragedy of the half-century-long division between the North and the South. The four protagonists stood guard on duty in one picture, looking at each other from different angles. On the south side, a Western female tourist's hat was blown to the north side by the wind, and there was a sudden tension. The rugged Sergeant Wu of the Korean People's Army leaned over to pick it up and handed it over with a smile. At that moment, the sun was shining all over the world. For that moment, I watched "JSA" again later without translation.

(We strongly recommend that the Chinese cultural department introduce this film so that the people can experience the bitterness of division and the sweetness of unity.)

Note: Regarding the names of "South Korea" and "North Korea"---The commonly referred to "South Korea" and "North Korea" were originally a unified country on the Korean Peninsula. After World War II, they were divided into two de facto countries under the Cold War system. Now the People's Republic of China recognizes both. Their official names are "Republic of Korea" and "Democratic People's Republic of Korea", but both sides believe that the territory referred to by their names includes the entire Korean Peninsula (South Korea calls it the Korean Peninsula), that is, including the other side. So when referring to one side alone, it can be abbreviated as South Korea or North Korea; and when referring to both at the same time, it should be "South Korea" and "North Korea". Such informal names are accurate and objective. Koreans all say this, while North Koreans say "South Korea" and "North Korea", and the reason is the same. This book is written from the perspective of a guest in South Korea, so "South Korea" and "North Korea" are used. They can both accept the term "South" and "North", but they do not accept the official name of the country. Although they have joined the United Nations at the same time, they generally do not call each other by their official names. During negotiations, they only use the term "North-South Talks" or "North-South Talks". If we foreigners pretend to be "objective" and call them by their official names at the same time, that is exactly what they hate the most, because that is equivalent to supporting the "two-state theory" of the peninsula, which is equivalent to forever opposing their unification. It is just like the feeling that Westerners give us when they put "China" and "Taiwan" or "Republic of China" side by side. We would rather listen to the term "both sides of the Taiwan Strait" from the perspective of national culture. Therefore, considering these factors, in the context of the two juxtapositions, it is still appropriate to use "South Korea" and "North Korea". (Similarly, the terms "Korean Peninsula" and "Korean War" are also partially retained after being put in quotation marks.) This can highlight the pain of the division of the people of the North and South of the Korean Peninsula and express our sincere support for unification. Almost all countries in the world, including Europe and the United States, use this term. In order to be extra cautious in publishing, this book uses concepts such as "South" and "North" in many places. In cases where they are not parallel, the official country names or abbreviations are used as appropriate, but the author's objective position is consistent. This is hereby explained.

Lost in Panmunjom

April 20th is the Grain Rain Festival, and it has been half a month since the Qingming Festival when "people on the road are about to die". However, along the way, the "soul" of every Chinese has been aroused. Some people chatted, some took a nap, and some were in a daze, but in fact, they were just hiding and savoring the complex taste deep in their hearts. Panmunjom, a small mountain village that once made 600 million Chinese people proud, is about to enter our field of vision. The luxury bus is approaching the "38th Parallel" 1 kilometer at a time. I silently recited a line from a crosstalk in my heart: "Come and buy, come and see, take a look at my pure wool yarn, whether it is the 38th Parallel on the Korean Peninsula or Wang Zhangjiang, Yao, and Wu Faxian, they are not as good as my pure wool yarn!" The 38th Parallel, where the arrogant Americans sat down honestly for the first time, is in sight. However, we went to this line through the defense zone of the "United Nations Army", which seems to contain some historical irony. My emotions are so tangled and tangled that I might as well not cut or sort them out and just deal with them after I finish reading it. It may take me decades to digest the feelings.

Seeing the barbed wire, everyone was excited. However, the tense atmosphere that we had been expecting never arrived. Although there were checkpoints and inspections one after another, it was no different from the formalities of taking the subway and visiting the park. The Korean soldiers were still childish and looked like student soldiers. I could deal with two of them by myself. The Western soldiers were all plump and tender, as if they were on vacation in Hawaii. I blurted out, "The army is so untidy, won't the attack from the north be overwhelming?" Then I recited a few lines of Lu You's poem: "Fifteen years after the edict of peace with the barbarians was issued, the generals came to the border without fighting. The rich families were immersed in singing and dancing, the horses in the stables were fat and the bows were broken..." But then I thought, don't I like this beautiful peaceful scene? Shouldn't the people on the north and south of the dividing line turn swords into hoes and live in peace and prosperity on the 38th parallel?

Finally, I stepped onto the line. Standing on the octagonal pavilion, I saw Korean soldiers in a very "mighty" posture: wearing helmets, sunglasses, standing with their feet spread out in a "big" shape, with their fists clenched and stretched out diagonally on both sides of their bodies, the whole person looked like the "界" character of a world. I don't know who designed this posture, but it is really beautiful and can be used as a living annotation of the idiom "show off one's strength and power". Like others, I also took photos with these soldiers, but I always felt that there was too much performance and exaggeration in it. Therefore, I felt that these soldiers were quite friendly, as if they were my students or brothers. I really wanted to play a little joke on them, but I was afraid of interfering with their work, because I knew that they were "planted" there motionlessly, and I was probably working harder than the flag guards at Tiananmen Square in China.