Chapter 66: Like the sea
Overnight, every copy of the now-famous article "The Nightingale No Longer Cries," which had circulated across the major forums, suddenly showed as pending review. Some posts were deleted outright. Dedicated discussion threads with thousands of replies vanished without a trace.
Only days earlier, newspapers had been frantically publishing articles full of conflicting views and arguments. Professional commentators had traded insults in furious battles, and the intensity of those exchanges had sent newspaper sales soaring as readers competed to get their hands on them.
And so, on this new day, people hurried to newsstands on bicycles with breakfast in hand, or pulled up in cars and rolled down their windows to take a paper. Others reached their offices, brewed a cup of tea, and eagerly unfolded their subscriptions, ready to enjoy another round of verbal combat. Instead, they found that the latest front-page headlines were not what they had expected, but reports on provincial government policies or articles discussing the city's economy.
They flipped through several more pages, only to discover that all the commotion of the previous days had vanished in an instant. Newspaper commentary was so quiet that it seemed the whole thing had never happened.
People slammed their newspapers onto their desks in anger.
How could they pretend it had never happened? How could they just act as though nothing had happened!?
The province's major newspapers were soon bombarded with a blizzard of letters from furious readers, vehemently demanding the restoration of continuing coverage and discussion of the situation in the south. Some letters carried an unmistakably cynical tone. "Every day, I go to work at nine and leave at six. I have no idea what pleasure there is to be found in this lifeless office. Your reporting let me find a little