Confucius said of "Shao": "It is perfectly beautiful, and it is also perfect." He said of "Wu": "It is perfectly beautiful, but it is not perfect."
Wu Shao, walking on the top of the cliff. He is not a warrior, but he goes deeper into the tiger's den than a warrior; he is not a ghost, but he is more traceless than a ghost.
From the Anti-Alliance secret report in the white mountains and black waters in 1931 to the last gasp on the hospital bed in Shanghai in 1945, Wu Shao's lurking ran through the most arduous years of the Anti-Japanese War. He dealt with the Kwantung Army's special high school, the Puppet Manchukuo regime, and the Wang Puppet Demon Lair No. 76, Facing Kurosawa's coldness, Li Shiqun's poisonous fangs, Yingzuo's machinations, and Okamura's ruthlessness. Every breath may be the last, and every transmission of information requires a risk of life.
His weapons are not guns, but the sound patterns engraved on the record master, the forgery of shrine seals, the temperature codes of sake bottle stoppers, the Morse waves of tea cups, the ghost replacement of archival photos, the ashes sealed with fire paint, and the microscopic directory of medicine bottle labels... He integrates the ashes of martyrs into the carrier of intelligence time and time again, turning them into the most tragic codes. He disguised himself as the most loyal enemy and built "silent monuments" in the heart of the enemy that carried the heroic names and unfinished business of his comrades-in-arms.
