War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 2002 Peace in the world
On the dilapidated Great Wall, where traces of invasion and anti-aggression wars still remain, Wei Ran tried to hold the camera more steadily, struggling to frame the newlyweds with only sorrow and no joy through the viewfinder.

However, before he could press the shutter, a blonde woman walked up the steps not far away.

She was wearing a thick brown trench coat, with an Icanta camera and a Super Icanta hanging around her neck, and a canvas bag slung over her shoulder.

Not only that, in her arms was a cute little girl with mixed-race features, and in the little girl's hand was a photo of Dong Weixin.

"Amy?" Wei Ran stared at her in surprise, and it took him a while to recognize her.

Comrade Wei Ran

Amy's tone lacked the joy of a long-awaited reunion; she was even unusually calm. "It's good that your war is over and you're still alive."

As she spoke, she turned to look at Zhao Shouxian and Wang Yimo, who were standing side by side, and said with almost certainty, "You must be Zhao Shouxian and Wang Yimo, right? I am Dong Aimei, Dong Weixin's wife."

If you consider Weixin your elder brother, then I am your sister-in-law; if you consider him your uncle, then I am your aunt.

Auntie

Zhao Shouxian and Wang Yimo reacted quickly, greeting him respectfully, while also subconsciously glancing behind them. "Where's Uncle Dongdong? He..."

"He's dead. He's been dead for a long time."

Amy, no, Dong Amy gave a bitter smile, "He died in October 1947. He was in hiding in Changchun at the time, and he was exposed. Before he was arrested, he sent me a telegram, telling me..."

Taking a deep breath, Dong Aimei hugged the child in her arms tightly. "Let me come to Xifengkou to attend the wedding after the war ends, present my wedding gift, and drink a big bowl of wedding wine for him."

As she spoke, Dong Aimei reached into her handbag, took out a wine gourd with a thick patina and a fish knife attached to it, and handed it to the bewildered Zhao Shouxian, saying, "Congratulations on your marriage."

After saying this blessing, Dong Aimi was already in tears. Even so, she still said, "Please give me a big bowl of wedding wine to drink."

"Yi Mo, the wine." Zhao Shouxian took the wine gourd and said, his voice trembling.

Wang Yimo realized what was happening and quickly ran to a nearby spot, poured two large bowls of wine, and brought them over.

"Originally, we also invited Comrade Wei Ran to our wedding banquet."

After Dong Aimi finished speaking, she didn't wait for Wei Ran to say anything. She brought the rough porcelain bowl to her lips, gulped down half of it, poured out the other half, and then took the second bowl, drinking half of it and pouring out the other half as well.

"Where are you going next?" Wei Ran asked.

"I'm going back. There's no one I'm waiting for here anymore, and no appointments I need to keep."

Dong Aimei said, "I have retired and am preparing to return to Warsaw. My father also died in the war. I have lost the two most important men to me. But thankfully, the Uprising left me with her."

As she spoke, Dong Aimei proudly showed off the little girl in her arms who was neither crying nor fussing. "Her name is Irenka, and the Chinese name I gave her is Dong Changchun. When she gets a little older, I will teach her Chinese and tell her about her father and about you all. If she wants, she might come to China to visit."

“It’s a good name”

Wei Ran suppressed the bitterness in his heart and praised it. He had already been taught Greek by the metal notebook, so he knew clearly that the name Ilenka actually came from the Greek word for "peace".

But now that peace has come, those who fought for peace have left.

“When Sister Changchun comes to China, we will treat her well,” Zhao Shouxian said hurriedly.

"When she comes by herself, we'll treat her like a younger sister," Wang Yimo added, wiping away her tears.

Today should have been a joyous day for them, but it has become their saddest day.

"That day will come. Let me take a wedding photo for you."

Dong Aimei suggested, "Then I'll prepare to go back. I might open a photo studio in Warsaw in the future, and you're welcome to visit Warsaw anytime."

"Let's take a picture together. I was just about to take one for them too," Wei Ran said, turning to look at Zhao Shouxian and Wang Yimo.

“Yes, we need to take one,” Zhao Shouxian agreed first.

Cheer up!

Dong Aimei comforted her, saying, "The people you love have survived, which is something to be happy about."

This is also the first photo I'm going to take as a photographer, and I plan to hang it in my soon-to-open photo studio, so you guys should be happy.

"Thank you, thank you."

Zhao Shouxian wiped his eyes hard, and then, in unison with Wang Yimo beside him, adjusted their military caps, top buttons, belts, and hems of their clothes. Afterward, they stood side by side, revealing the bright smiles that should be present on National Day.

"Click"

Wei Ran and Dong Aimi, holding the camera in one hand, pressed the shutter on Zhao Shouxian and his companion, capturing their smiling faces, the dilapidated but still winding Great Wall behind them, the big red flower on their chests, and the tears that kept streaming down their cheeks.

"Let me take a picture of you and your daughter too," Wei Ran suggested to Dong Aimi.

"Let's take a picture then."

Dong Aimei did not refuse, but carefully straightened her daughter Dong Changchun's collar, then temporarily hung the old camera that Dong Weixin had mortgaged to her around the little girl's neck. She then took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped away the tear stains, and then took out a lipstick to touch up her lip gloss.

Once they were ready, Wei Ran laboriously raised his camera and, with the winding Great Wall and dilapidated watchtowers as a backdrop, pressed the shutter to take a picture of the mother and daughter.

"Shouxian, you should go over there too."

Wei Ran called out, and after Zhao Shouxian and Wang Yimo stood on either side of Dong Aimi, he pressed the shutter again to take a picture of them.

"Click"

Amidst the unusually crisp click of the shutter, Wei Ran let out a weary sigh in the blinding white light.

However, as the white light faded, he found that he had not returned to the real world he was familiar with, but instead arrived at the entrance of an old Chinese-style building hidden in the mountains.

Looking up at the lintel, there hung a worn plaque with the words "Wuliang Temple" written in gold on a blue background. Looking down, I saw my suitcase beside my feet.

Wuliang Temple? That Taoist officer? Fu Wenyao?

Wei Ran's heart skipped a beat, and just as he was about to say something, a young man who looked to be around 20 years old, wearing a military uniform and carrying a bag on his shoulder, walked past him to the door and gently patted the open door.

A moment later, a young Taoist priest who looked to be about the same age as him came out.

"Hello, Taoist priest." The young soldier gave a crisp and efficient salute.

"Hello, comrade of the People's Liberation Army." The young Taoist priest flicked his whisk in return with a religious gesture, and then the two men, who were the same age, shook hands.

"Master, I would like to ask you about someone."

The young soldier asked, "Do you know a Taoist priest named Fu Wenyao? Do you know who his master is?"

"Fu Fu. Fu Wenyao?"

The young Taoist priest reacted quickly, then his eyes turned bloodshot. "He...he's back? My martial uncle is back?"

The young soldier shook his head. "He won't be coming back. He sacrificed his life. He died in Lengkou in 1937. I'm here to deliver the news."

"Ugh"

The young soldier sighed, “Come in. My uncle and his fellow disciples have been gone for over ten years. My master knew long ago that he wouldn’t be coming back.”

"Taoist Master, may I go in too?"

Wei Ran walked up carrying his suitcase and asked, "I also know Fu Wenyao; I'm his subordinate."

"You're my master's subordinate?" Hope rekindled in the young Taoist's wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, he... he really did sacrifice himself." Wei Ran's apologetic reply extinguished the hope in the young Taoist's eyes in the blink of an eye.

Please come with me.

The young Taoist priest turned around and led Wei Ran and the young soldier through the gate to a side hall.

A moment later, a Taoist priest, leaning on a cane and appearing to be around fifty or sixty years old, walked in. "My junior brother is back? He..."

The young soldier saluted. "I brought Comrade Fu Wenyao back. I'm sorry, he sacrificed his life in Lengkou in 1937."

"Ugh!"

The Taoist priest sighed, turned to the young Taoist, and said, "Go boil water and make tea."

"Yes"

The young Taoist bowed in agreement, turned and walked out of the side hall, closing the wooden door behind him.

"I was actually acting on someone else's behalf."

The young soldier said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I... I've never met Comrade Fu Wenyao before."

"You haven't seen him before?"

Wei Ran glanced at the young soldier. "Where did you hear about him?"

"Jinling"

When the young soldier uttered the place name, he and Wei Ran almost simultaneously shuddered.

"You...you...you survived from Jinling?" Wei Ran stood up abruptly, grabbed the other person's wrist, and asked incredulously.

"Yes"

When the young soldier uttered those words, his eyes were already bloodshot. "My name is Xu Zhiqi, I..."

What is your relationship with Xu Zhixia?

Wei Ran stared intently at the other person; he could even hear his own heart pounding.

"She's my older sister."

Xu Zhiqi, who was looking at Wei Ran, clearly knew what he wanted to ask. "January 1938, Jinling, Datusha. Xu family. I was the only one who survived from the Xu family."

"them."

“My brother-in-law, Guo Xiuqi, hid my sister and me in the cellar. He killed us. He killed nine Japanese soldiers, ran out of ammunition, and died in battle.”

Taking a deep breath, Xu Zhiqi continued, "My sister, my sister, refused to be humiliated. When the Japanese found her, she committed suicide with a grenade."

Before my brother-in-law went to kill the Japanese, he told me, "If..."
If I survive, after the war ends, let me go to Lengkou to find Fu Wenyao's body.

After cremation, the ashes were sent to Wuliang Temple. I'm sorry, I... I'm late.

As he spoke, Xu Zhiqi, who was already sobbing uncontrollably, wiped away his tears, opened his satchel, took out an urn of ashes, and handed it to the Taoist priest. "My brother-in-law didn't have time to tell me about Fu Wenyao."

They only told me to find Fu Wenyao's remains, cremate them, and bring them here.

"Back then, my junior brother Wen Yao, along with my five other junior brothers, five senior brothers, and two junior uncles, went down the mountain to fight the Japanese."

The Taoist priest sighed, "I was born with a leg disability, and I would only be a burden if I went. That's why I stayed to guard the mountain gate and take care of my master. But alas!"

"When Fu Wenyao was in Lengkou, he commanded everyone in the battle, leading by example and killing many Japanese soldiers."

As Wei Ran spoke, he opened his suitcase and rummaged through it, finally finding a cloth bag and opening it. "After he was injured, Lengkou fell. He didn't want to be a burden to everyone, so he committed suicide. These are some of his belongings from back then."

"crash"

With a clear clatter, a patina-covered ginkgo nut and a small sandbag landed on the table. The old Taoist priest, whose legs were crippled, was already in tears. He took out a ginkgo nut from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“There are 12 of us brothers and sisters. We were all poor children that our master picked up and no one wanted. We grew up in these mountains and were taken care of by our two junior uncles from a young age.”

As the Taoist priest spoke, he skillfully tossed up a kalachakra, then quickly picked up two more kalachakra from the table, caught them in his palm, and then caught the one that had been tossed up.

“These 14 Galaha beads, each of us brothers has one. Our senior brothers, who are not much older than us, also each have one.”

Back then, whenever we got together, no matter who it was, we'd all pull out our own kalachakra and put it together. As long as Master didn't find out, we could play in every nook and cranny of the Wuliang Temple for half a day straight.

The Taoist priest, who was tossing the galaha (a type of Tibetan hamburger) up and down, recalled to himself, “Before we set off, my uncle said that everyone should take these galaha with them. If anyone doesn’t come back, they should bring the galaha back with them and say that when I see these galaha, they will have returned.”

"crash"

The Taoist priest, who was over fifty years old, finally failed to catch the galaha that had been tossed into the air, just as he couldn't hold back his tears and couldn't help but look at the Taoist temple outside the door. "Less than a month after the September 18 Incident, they set off to fight the Japanese. In the blink of an eye, almost twenty years have passed, but I never thought that... in the end, we would finally meet again."

As he spoke, he shakily picked up the small sandbag. "I asked my junior brother, who is quite talented in divination. He cast a divination for everyone before we set off, and the interpretation of that divination is hidden in this sandbag. He said he would wait until we got back to see it, and he specifically asked me to open it."

As he spoke, the Taoist priest, who was crying like a child, forcefully tore open the sandbag, scattering the black and red beans inside all over the table, revealing a bamboo tube that was only the size of a finger joint.

He picked up the wick-picking needle and poked a wax-sealed strip of paper out of the bamboo tube. He carefully unfolded it; on the pale yellow paper, only red cinnabar was used to write a few lines of unrestrained, flamboyant calligraphy:

Though limbs may be severed when this brocade pouch is opened, the Japanese invaders have been defeated, and China will ultimately break with the old and establish the new, returning to the pinnacle of the world.

Senior brother, please don't be sad; you should drink three large bowls of wine! Congratulations!

The flames of war have been extinguished, the people are living in peace and prosperity, and the world is at peace!

This is probably the third to last story, and also the third story that was originally conceived when this book was first written.

Congratulations! The flames of war have been extinguished, the people are living in peace and prosperity, and the world is at peace!