Chapter 33 talk about dancing

China is a country without dancing.It probably happened in the past, and I saw it in ancient costume dramas and movies, slowly stretching out the two big sleeves of grace and bowing to the left and right; the dancers in ancient times also had the demeanor of ancient sages, although It's a bit monotonous, and according to Tang poetry, "Dancing to lower the heart and moon in the willow building" seems to be a more aggressive gesture, sweeping down the moon, but it's really a long time ago. What kind of steps are the "big hanging hands" and "small hanging hands"? It can't be examined, and it can't be figured out out of thin air.Although the Ming and Qing dynasties still used singing and dancing in general, only the body gestures in the drama remained.Even when there were dances in the past, everyone just watched the performance and did not participate.So over the years, although countless people in China have worked hard, moved for the sake of movement, and felt the joy of flying in the flow of the body, there are none. (Unless it is in a place where people are behind people, so there are a lot of erotic paintings.) It is scary to think of the mighty land without mountains and rivers cheering and clapping hands, and the silence of thousands of generations.Chinese women's waists and buttocks are so low that when viewed from the back, standing looks like sitting.

However, social dancing is very common among Chinese people nowadays.Some people think it is inappropriate, while others defend it, saying that it is art, and if you find pornographic interest in it, it is your own bad intentions.In fact, as far as ordinary social dancing is concerned, it is really inseparable from the element of sex, otherwise why would it be boring for two women to dance together? A well-dressed person appears in a decent place, sees the same kind, and is also seen. This is social interaction.Talking too much is afraid of revealing flaws, so I keep saying "today's weather hahaha", this "hahaha" part is really difficult; in order to avoid exchanging ideas, I have to create various substitutes for conversation, such as " hand talk".Dancing is a "foot talk", which is better than mahjong and poker, because it is relatively basic and it is the most harmless contact between the sexes.But the artistic element in it, if there is any, is just the opposite: people who dance well don't have bad and clumsy postures, don't step on each other's toes, that's all.Everything pays attention to a "freehand image", so our civilization has become very weak.

The old-fashioned dances in foreign countries are not like this. They have deep emotions. There is such a passage in Chekhov's novels, which is the best article about dancing that I have seen. ... She danced Polonaise again with a tall officer; he moved very slowly, like a corpse in clothes, with his brows and chest frowned, and he was stamping his feet wearily. ——He danced very hard, but she used her beauty and naked neck to encourage him and stimulate him; her eyes were provocatively burning, her movements were passionate, and he was gradually dying, He raised his hand to her, stiff as a king.

The people watching cheered in unison: "Good! Good!" But gradually the tall officer also became excited; he slowly became lively, overwhelmed by her beauty, and danced lightly, while she just shifted her shoulders and looked at him slyly, as if Now she is queen and he is her servant. Today's tango has a slightly similar mood to this, but it is different in the end.Tango comes from Spain.Spain is a poor place. When the American colonies were first discovered, it was absurdly rich for a while, and boat after boat of gold and silver treasures were shipped home.It soon fell down again, leaving only a little cumbersome memory of the beauty of the past, the black lace gauze on women's heads, the tortoiseshell combs inlaid in their hair; Dagger, toss a rose to the hero of the bullfight—there is no Romance, only Romance's rules.This exaggerated, cruel, black land and gold-flying nation, when they got rich at the beginning, because they were too sudden, they had the gloomy and bizarre nightmares, and now they are too poor to know why, and they are extremely desperate.Their dances have a tinge of desolation and alcohol, but their hearts are empty, and they can no longer get drunk, and their actions are still full of superficiality and refinement.It will always be a long-drawn-out attack and avoidance, half-push and half-response, a tug-of-war of letting go and taking in, and polite sensuality.

Modern people don't like this kind of wordiness, so tango is not very popular, and only occasionally two experts are invited to perform in the dance hall as an embellishment.For a while, the whole country in the United States danced Jitterbug like crazy (this kind of dance can be translated as "Jitterbug".) Everyone lined up and walked like in a kindergarten playground. !" Shouting, shouting, getting excited, kicking and jumping desperately, until exhausted.Weary courtesans, businessmen, and housewives are all liberated here and rejuvenated, but simple-mindedness does not necessarily mean childishness.Children's dancing is not like this. It is closer to the free style advocated by Isadona Duncan. If there is a rhythm, it is relatively leisurely.

India has a crazy dance that is also different from this.The dancer was shaking violently, knees bent, body shortened, legs twisted back and forth somehow, as if a furnace was burning under the body, fidgeting restlessly.The music is also embarrassingly itchy, high and sharp, scratching and noisy.The singer's mouth seemed to contain hot soup, and his throat trembled unsteadily.This kind of dance is good, because it seems to be only so, in harmony with their climate and living environment, so as to have permanence.The first animals on the earth lived in the mud.At that time, there were swamps everywhere, hot and humid all year round, no trees grew, only clumps of thick-leaved aquatic plants.The sun was scorching hot on the dirty water, and some small things started to squirm at the bottom of the water, such violent activities, but without form, like the evaporation of gas.It looks dirty, but it's just chaos.Dirty is always due to occlusion, due to the death of the part: that which is so vigorous is not dirty.This Indian dance is like that.

Civilized man cannot be primitive; he has no horror or respect for barbarism.They think they can hide among children when they are tired, hide among primitive people, disperse, but they cannot—they rest only in stupidity. I was in Hong Kong. One year during the summer vacation, a group of girls from the primary school attached to the convent moved to our dormitory for summer vacation.The canteen is full of the sweaty smell of white uniforms and the wet smell of canvas shoes. Outside the canteen is a sloping garden, cement road, surrounded by iron railings, and often there is only fog or fog-like rain outside the iron railings. I can only see a touch of green hills on the other side of the sea.When I was a child, I used a small plate with gold rims to eat. On it was such a green mountain like a curved eyebrow, as well as green water, boats and people, but gradually it was worn away, and only the green color of the mountain remained.I remember this plate and a pair of red bone chopsticks very clearly. Seeing the distress of these children in front of me, although I hate them equally, sometimes I feel indifferently sad.Although they yelled all day long, they were no different from ordinary children. As soon as they yelled, they all disappeared, as if they were wiped off at once, but they couldn't be wiped clean. The shoe prints and the damp smell of the shoes.They had a phonograph, and they sang the same piece of music all day long, with a clear little girl's voice singing:

my mother said, i can no longer and gypsies go to the woods. At the happiest moment, it is still not allowed, not allowed, a hundred times not allowed.The door of the dining hall was wide open, the phonograph was turned on, and it began to rain suddenly outside, slapping big spots on the cement, each hitting a black mark.The Russian girl Natalia sang along to the record: "My mother said, I can no longer..." stretched out her arms, twisted and danced in the rain.Everyone laughed and shouted: "Natalia, show us your ears!" Natalia's ears could move.Both she and her sister Maria were orphans, picked up by an American wife and raised until they were five or six years old, when the adults returned home, they were thrown into the monastery here.They seem to be very happy in the American family, and they don't understand how they ended up in this miserable and benevolent place. They often keep silent, drink water from a smelly glass, and spread a very thin layer of reddish jam on their bread. Recite scriptures, and the whole class kneels down to pray every time after class.On Natalia's long pale face, with her green eyes narrowed into a narrow smile, she looked exhausted.Like ordinary filthy Russians, she was good-tempered and slovenly, and was often beaten. Her sister Maria was more sensible and respectful to her superiors, but her big blue eyes also showed blunt hatred.Maria has a beautiful little convex face. When she first came, I heard that there was a head of blond curly hair that fell to her heels. The nuns in the monastery cut it off because it was too troublesome to wash.

Once there was a thief in our dormitory, and the next morning we found out. The girls ran upstairs and downstairs excitedly. The whole summer vacation was never so free and happy.They flocked to the door of my room and asked, "Miss Aileen, have you lost anything?" They were full of hope, as if they should see an empty room.I was disturbed to say nothing was lost. There is also a Siamese girl, Madeleine, who lives in Bangkok and can dance their hometown's sacred dance. Her delicate brown wrists are pinned behind her back as if they were broken.The dancers in the temple are all twelve or thirteen-year-old girls like her. Their pointed brown faces are painted with white powder, and their faces are dead. However, the waist, legs and arms below each have their own independent lives. In the past, living impossible, each glorified to its god.However, the golden red dazzling God in his hometown is far away from here.Madeleine had to take care of herself as best she could, becoming a cunning little slave.

Apart from these children, most of our female classmates, overseas Chinese from Malaya, were educated in monasteries.Jintao, who has a pale black face and slightly buck teeth, was spoiled and spoiled. She only studied in the monastery for half a year and couldn't bear hardships.Jintao showed everyone how Malays dance: men and women lined up in two rows, swaying and walking in small steps, or just swaying; women held bandanas and swayed slowly, singing "Shayang! Shayang! !" Shayang means lover; the monotony of the singing makes it even more peaceful and beautiful.The women over there wear western clothes or short jackets and trousers, and only wear cheongsams during festive ceremonies.There is only one movie theater in the city. Jintao and other girls from rich families meet in the theater every night. When they see the little sister wearing a foreign dress, they keep silent and rush home before the show to change into a foreign dress before coming back.The Malaya in her life was a steamy barbarism covered with a layer of petty civilization; it was like a flowered cotton quilt that was too small, covering the head and barely moving the feet.From another town came a girl of eighteen or nineteen years old named Yuenu, but she was very beautiful, with a round, white face, double eyelids, and a slightly plump figure.The first time I saw her, she had just arrived in Hong Kong, she came out of the bathroom in the dormitory, smelling prickly heat powder, new pajamas with white flowers, with a small silver cross hanging on her chest, bowing with a smile, very polite.She said: "It's really nice here. When we were studying in the monastery over there, everyone took a bath together. There was a big pool of cement, and each person was given a white smock to wear in the bath. The style of the smock..." She hid her face and giggled, as if it was indescribable. "You haven't seen it like that... There is a slit in the back, it's as wide as a mosquito net. Standing in the water, the blouse is rolled up to the knees, and the soap is secretly rubbed under the blouse. It's really..." She often had a kind of expression on her face. With an expression of shame and grief, her delicate little phoenix eyes were also red and rusty.She also talked about the monastery. In the garden there were seven or eight feet tall straight coconut trees. Malay children quickly planted the land and climbed to the top to pick fruits. They were like monkeys.For some reason, when she mentioned these things, she also had an expression of shame, grief and unbelievable disbelief.

Her father was a businessman, and managed to get rich. He built a square new house, and the whole family moved in. Not long after, he suddenly fell in love with a dishonest woman and abandoned the family business. "When we meet her on the street, we all spit on her from a distance. They say she must know about witch nightmares." "Maybe...you don't need to use witch nightmares..." I suggested. "No, it must be Wumai! She is more than 30 years old, and she doesn't look good." "Even if she is over 30 years old and doesn't look good, maybe..." "No, it must be Wumai, otherwise Why is he so dazed that he beats people when he comes home—two years ago, when I was young, I caught him by the braids and banged my head against the wall." Malays who know magic tricks, she only knows how bad they are. "Malays are the worst! Bike to school, they love to catch up and bump you!" Her elder brother was studying at the University of Hong Kong and managed to bring her out to the university as well.During the war, her brother asked Yanying and me to take good care of her, saying: "Yuenu is a very innocent girl." She often thought about the possibility of being raped, thinking about it all day and night, her face was pale and swollen.But there was a period when everyone lived in seclusion and didn't dare to show up. She was the only one who leaned on the balcony to watch the soldiers in line pass by, and even made a fuss and asked other girls to watch. Her emptiness is like a closed, mildew-infested whitewashed room, and a small hotel on a cloudy day—overseas Chinese are ideologically homeless, and simple-minded people live in a place that doesn’t In the simple world, there is no background, no tradition, so there is no dancing.Yuenu can dance ballroom dancing, but she is only willing to dance with her father and brother. Among the noble ladies in Shanghai, pointe dancing is considered a very advanced art.Several friends once told me: "...and that color! Just for the color of their costumes and sets, you have to see it! It's so bright-you must like it." I don't like their colors, Because it is too expected.The gloomy cottage is illuminated by blue light, the pirates with red turbans, the difficult girls in white robes, the demon concubines of Muslim kings, with snake scale sequins nailed on their black gauze shirts.It is also cheap, but it is not as friendly as our cigarette pictures, because they are not ours.In the scene of spring in the harem, at the beginning of the opening, many dancing girls put on various poses and stood still, embedded in the magnificent scenery. At that moment, it was indeed a bit like the illustrations of the monks' handwritten books in the Middle Ages, precious "illuminated manuscripts" , a finely divided golden background, people with red flesh, bright red, and pink and blue embellishments.But after a while, the dancers started to dance, and the air changed instantly, and it was reduced to a series of cigarette pictures again.This is what I like best about our picture of cigarettes; the shabbyness of the opulence.Many beauties with golden makeup are used in the picture, big Qiao and Er Qiao, standing on the clean and shiny square brick floor, with vermilion lacquered pillars and splendid curtains beside them, but it always feels like the wealth and honor imagined by the poor, and the air is particularly fresh.I like the anti-climax - the creation of a strange atmosphere and a sudden drop, you can feel the human nature in the legend screaming.But I can't forgive the anti-climax in the pointe dance; even sitting in the last row, I can see the deformed and well-developed bulbous tendons on the thighs of Russian dancers, and the tight, hard and bloated white meat, I also worry about them. If it is too heavy, it will thud.The dance drama "Cosiah" is based on Byron's long poem; it may be particularly appropriate to use dance to tell stories, and even Byron's poems are full of turbulent movements.But the action here, because it is simple and clear, without the emotional foundation of folklore, the result is very shallow.The beauties who have been plundered are like birds in a cage, flying around in despair.An expression, and always an appropriate expression, so tasteless and unreal.Authentic is often inappropriate.For example, the part of Gao E's continuation, compared with the previous part, has a special cold feeling, not because the Jia family has fallen and should be dying, but because his writing is not good enough.The ending Gao E drew up cannot be said to be unreasonable, but the emotions in it are just sentiments, not real. The heroic beauty in "Cosiah" went through many hardships, and the woman was dedicated to the king. The princess was afraid that she would lose favor, so she let her run away with her lover.However, their boat sank in the storm.The last scene is very short, and only the setting of the mechanism, the moving sea waves, and the clouds in the sky move back quickly, indicating that the boat is moving forward.The boat was full of people, and when the rescue was in danger, it also scrambled two toe dancing postures, and finally sank for all of them. Such a hasty tragic ending is very ridiculous in my opinion.Organ sets, except in Vaudeville, are probably always a thankless task.I am used to watching storms, shipwrecks, wars, and fires in movies, and the direct performance on the stage always feels unreal.Yet perhaps that's what Chinese audiences like.The drama learned it, and this time the boat did not capsize, and two people jumped off from the crowd on the boat, and kicked on the platform. The waves were rough and pushed up to their waists. After a while, they squatted down and disappeared.The boat continued to row forward, and the audience was shocked and got up to go home.It is said that there must be something like this to send them away, otherwise they always think that the show is not over yet. I have only seen Indian dance once.The dancer Clitora Devi is not Indian, I don’t know if she is from a small country in Central Europe, but after special training in India, she has traveled around the world and is very famous.The performance that time was informal, the stage was very small, and the background was just a simple curtain, but the thin woman sat there with her hands folded, one leg crossed, her feet resting on her knees, and she quietly hung down the folds of Qingming clothes. , but really looks like a god.For a long time, she didn't move.Indian veils are similar to ancient Greek costumes. Not only does this woman not have the physical beauty of Greek stone statues, but her head is too big, her eyes are too small, and her small hard mouth looks old, but her age is ageless. Sitting may be for thousands of years.Seeing the cold horror on her face reminds one of George Bernard Shaw's play "Back to Methuselah" ("Back to Methuselah"). Dropped, the eggs hatched are mature boys and girls, everyone dances, makes fun, loves, draws pictures and statues, and within four years, they have had enough of these, tired of all material beauty, they will go away and think about difficult truths .In this way, you can continue to live for thousands of years, just a living thought, the body is forgotten, exposed to the wind and the sun, regardless of gender, all black and thin, straight, with a piece of cloth around the waist.Young men and women under the age of four regard them as monsters and call them "ancients".Although there are "male ancients" and "female ancients", it doesn't look much different.They have studied mathematics and science to a certain extent, and their physique can change freely, and eight arms can be born at any time; if they want to go down the mountain, people can collapse into a semi-liquid and flow down the terrain.Clitora Devi's dance, the moving part has that feeling.She pinches her fingers, puts two fingers together, raises one finger, and changes rapidly. It is said that each gesture has a mysterious symbolic meaning in the Brahman tradition, but in my opinion, it only expresses a kind of superman for the body control, as if she could indeed grow eight arms at will. In the second dance, Clitora Devi changed into a light-colored veil, jumped out clapping her hands all the way, kicked off the red and yellow pleated skirt, and the golden bracelet on her arm clanged, making people completely forget her old and ugly appearance. .The round eyes are shining. She is a young girl from ancient India. She proudly describes to everyone what her lover looks like, how tall, how wide her shoulders are, what kind of eyes, nose, mouth, and a breastplate on her chest. , with a sword on his waist, laughing like this, angry like this... I can't describe it, I can't describe it-see for yourself!He's coming soon, coming soon.She ran to look at it many times, climbed up the tree to look around, took water from the well and sprinkled it on her face, dipped the hairpin in the blue liquid made of copper mixture, and drew the tails of her eyes long. Clitora Devi made her own show called "Mother" and it was popular with realism fur in the dancing, but I hated it.The mother who lost her child wandered bewilderedly to the shrine and knelt down, thinking about it, and rocking the empty cradle dreamily.Finally he became angry, pushed down the shrine, and with a bang, was shocked by his apostasy again, knelt down and begged for mercy.The subject matter is not bad. It is used to describe India, which is plagued by many diseases, and the superstition and stubborn feelings of Indian women. It can have a deep and narrow misery.But what is shown here is only maternal love-"maternal love" that should be added in brackets.The big topic of maternal love, like all big topics, has too many clichés written on it.Generally, those who advocate maternal love are men who are sons rather than mothers, and if a woman also advertises maternal love, it is because she knows that she is not important, and men only respect her, so she has to be exaggerated. It's mother all over.In fact, some feelings are that if you dramatize it all the time, there will be only drama left; maternal love especially. When mentioning the Dongbao Song and Dance Troupe, everyone must think of the short-pants dancer in the advertisement, wearing a chicken heart-shaped hat on one side.However, their Western-style dancing is really limited. It is always a row of people standing at attention with their arms together, looking to the right, bending their knees, kicking and kicking; Put on your clothes and do it all over again.Western-style programs are often performed, and it is said that it is because Chinese audiences especially like to watch them.I only like them to dance their own dance. There is a whole stage, wearing bright kimonos, lined up, with hands on the backs of the people in front, staggering feet, walking in short steps, shaking their heads from side to side, with flexible necks It seems to be put on, the whole is like a small toy, "silk figure".It is insulting to compare women to toys, but here they also think that they are amusing things, a head can shake this way and that way-like a child playing with his toes, very happy and surprised.To the Japanese, Japan is like the paper holder of a toy box, which has hollowed out its status and embedded small pots and soldiers. What should be a small pot is a small pot, and what should be a small soldier is a small soldier.Looking at this environment from the standpoint of an individualist, I don't agree with it, but in fact, it is very appropriate to put most people in it, because people are rarely exceptions, many are considered to be exceptions or claim to be exceptions, In fact, it's all in the example.The stylization of social life, unlike mechanization, comes naturally and is always beneficial.From this, I thought of the characters dotted in Japanese landscape paintings, which are definitely not the fisherman or the old man with a stick in Chinese paintings, but very homely; the women crossing the bridge are probably going to pick up the children in the school.The colors in the painting are also plain and deep, with blue ponds, green willows, light ink sky, and a good year with good weather, but because the world is peaceful, everyone keeps their own place. Women get married, serve their husbands and children, and comb their hair the same. Saying the same kind words, there is a kind of depression, a kind of mild sorrow, which has become the characteristic of Japanese art. Dongbao Song and Dance Troupe also had a very deep impression on me, "Lion and Butterfly".The lions on the stage are played by people, so of course it won't be too realistic.The statues of Chinese lion dances and ordinary stone lions are not like lions but like bulldogs, with round and protruding eyes.I always suspect that the lions that the Chinese see are all tributes. They glanced at them and didn’t look carefully. And for some reason, the Chinese people like to create monsters, like unicorns. , creating beasts is not good.The lion in the Japanese dance is also standing like a man, but wearing a mask, his big white face is painted with drooping colored stripes, his face is surrounded by a vermilion mane, and his fluffy red tail is dragging behind his head. Time to toss and toss. At the beginning of "Lion and Butterfly", a group of butterflies were dancing in the deep mountains, and two lions were sitting in the middle. When the sound of gongs and drums changed, the lion stood up with flick of mane and tail. It really felt like a lion, and the butterflies scattered one after another; Visions seen on the fringes of dreams are gorgeous, toy-like horrors. This horror is the horror of a very deep child.Or the Japanese know children best, perhaps because they are children themselves.They are at their greatest when speaking to small children.The attitude of the Chinese towards children is rarely appropriate.The old method of foreigners is polite and distant. Parents and children seem to be a combination of affairs. They teach the children with cold politeness: "Can I have another slice? Can I take the bear to sleep?" The parents of the new method are not I study child psychology before I get married. The more I study, the more flustered I become. Most of them tend to be indulgent, "My dear, please don't destroy Dad's book", begging like that; kiss him good morning, kiss him good night, go to school and kiss him after class kiss him.The nursery rhyme says, "What are little girls made of? Sugar and spices, and all good things." But the children's world is not all sweet, bright and exquisite, the atmosphere of "children, let's hold hands".There is a revolutionary art school in the United States that encourages children to draw freely. Among the outstanding works is a portrait of a bad child with rotten teeth and glasses, another picture of a red and purple sunset by a lake, two There are dark ghosts with lumpy heads, and there is another picture full of overlapping small handprints, which is really scary. In the Japanese movie "The Singing of the Beaver Palace", there is a female fairy, the elf of the old tree of Bai Mulian, wearing a long white dress, parted hair, pale, too correct egg-shaped face, very tall and thin monotonous little face Throat, there is a large part of the story, although the voice is delicate, it can send chills down the spine.However, it is true that it is a fairy and not a ghost, nor is it a female star, and it is quite different from the fairy in the raisin advertisement in the "Snow White" cartoon.The ghost film "Song of the Civet Palace" and Disney's cartoons are both fantastic fairy tales. Disney's "Snow White" is where adults bow down to please children. There is no such trace. For a while, I often watched Japanese movies, and the two I was most satisfied with were "The Song of the Tanuki Palace" (formerly known as "Tanko Palace") and "The Secret History of the Dance Castle" (formerly known as "Awa no Odori").A Japanese laughed contemptuously and said that the former is for children and the latter is for uneducated ladies, but I am not ashamed. The goodness of "The Secret History of Dancing City" has nothing to do with its legendary story of love and hatred.Of course, the story itself also has its touching points. The father was forced to give his betrothed daughter to a powerful person as a concubine, saying goodbye to his ancestors.The father knelt upright, with tears in his eyes, and told his last resort in a trembling voice. The daughter knelt behind, but lay down motionless. In the small hall with cold white lattice fans, there was an endless family affection.When her fiancé came back to take revenge, the old servant led her to meet him, but halfway she stopped suddenly, bowed her head, and turned her back.The servant called in embarrassment, "Miss...Miss..." She just hesitated.The servant said: "...waiting over there." After urging and urging, she reluctantly went forward.The fiancé waited on the beach and went through all kinds of hardships and adventures to meet, but the two didn't say a word of heart to face face to face; he walked over there on his own, and said with emotion: "I really didn't expect to have this side today..." She followed silently, in the silver-gray weather by the sea.He turned around suddenly, but she turned around again and walked back, with her head lowered and walked slowly forward, while he followed far behind.Similar lingering steps can be seen in the love scenes of Chinese dramas recently, one walks, the other follows, all without saying a word.Or a martyr and a martyr who took a step forward in righteousness, the cowardly villain would take a step back in fright, and continued to walk forward defiantly, and he would back again and again, which seemed to be dancing. "The Secret History of Dancing City" centered on the festival of dancing. All men, women and children in the city stretched their arms and legs under the dazzling gray sun, kicked and danced in various ways, singing: "Today is the day for dancing! Anyone who doesn't dance is an idiot!" Maybe it’s because the light is too strong, the picture is very pale, and I can see the carnival limbs and necks protruding from the floral plaid clothes, the comb on the woman’s oily hair, and the old man’s trembling gray bun, all of which are faint, It doesn't matter the color of the place, it's just people... In the crowd, the hero grabbed his enemy, grabbed the clothes, counted the crimes, and said a lot of things like "it fell into my hands", in Japanese , exceptionally long.The dancing people do not want to be the background of his activities, they are not as obedient as the jade legs like Lin Rulin in Hollywood musicals - the tide surges up, submerging the hero and his grievances.All that is seen on the screen is dancing, dancing, the dazzling gray whirling of the dazzling sun.The hero was photographed again, and the hero was still talking to his enemy, but somehow the enemy had already fallen to the ground and was killed.It's so boring, it's hilarious to use this as the end of a saga - all because of the dancing.