今天的中国还想要拥抱世界吗？

Romance on Lushan Mountain—what a beautiful, bittersweet film. On the surface, it feels like a romanticized fantasy, doesn’t it? A girl from America with Chinese roots falling in love with a young man from the “New China”—it almost feels too ideal to believe. But beneath that, I think it speaks to something deeper, a longing China had at the time. In 1980, China had been suffering in poverty and political strain for decades. The country, still reeling from its past, was hungry for change—yearning to reconnect with the world, to thrive, to grow. Zhou Yun, whose father had fled to America, represents that hope for connection with the outside world. Geng Hua, a young man deeply entrenched in the new political landscape, stands for the rise of a New China. Their love is symbolic—an attempt to bridge the old with the new, the domestic with the foreign. But, like a dream too beautiful to be true, their love feels a bit naive. It’s a lovely, idealized vision of reconciliation, but is it real? At the time, China’s aspirations were high, and while it was touching to watch, it also had an air of innocence—like the country itself was stepping into the future, hoping for the best while still healing from the wounds of the past. It’s a poignant reflection of what China longed for after so many years of struggle, but perhaps too naive for today’s more jaded world. Would such a story resonate now, or have we lost that sense of idealism in the modern world?