Imagine this: under the step-by-step pressure of a harsh creditor, weak, pitiful, helpless victims shed tears, cast aside their dignity, and beg bitterly, yet receive not a shred of concession. As the interest steadily mounted, even selling off their property, selling their organs, even selling their children would not repay that mountain of debt. In the end, they would be destitute on the streets, crying out with their last breaths—what a tear-jerking story, what an outrage-inducing outcome.
Better yet, add a bit of violent debt collection. Yes, kill a few people too—young people or children would be best. Photos or videos would be even better.
Then, with perfect justification, they could use that as a foundation to stir up a new storm. Who knew how many people were already rubbing their hands together, impatient to join this game, like piranhas swarming forth to gnaw a whale calf into a dry skeleton.
When one whale falls, all things flourish.
A scene of virtue, beauty, and fine repute indeed.
Unfortunately, the story had barely begun before it seemed to end.
GOOGLE SEARCH TWKAN
It was like a humble serf begging a landlord for a few more days to repay his debt so he could have a good New Year, only for the landlord to wave a grand hand. "Hey, what's the big deal? I told you, repay it whenever you want. Oh, right, the New Year's coming up. Take these two sacks of rice, and grab half a pig on your way out too. Give the children some meat."—"And from then on, everyone lived happily ever after."
Was that right?
Was that how it was supposed to go?
That wasn't how the story was written!
Where was the contradiction? Where was the conflict? Without villains, without struggle, how was the long story