The students in the prison were still unclear about what had happened.
It wasn’t until the young guard led the students to the prison door, pushed open the dark iron door, and let the sunlight in.
As they crossed the threshold.
The students who had been detained for several days saw the workers filling the streets outside the prison.
Their coarse hands held high signs stained with ink.
So signs were made by students before, damaged by the black-uniford military police amid chaos, now tied with red cloth strips by the workers and waved.
The crowd erupted in cheers upon seeing the students erge.
The surrounding students left the prison amid the throng.
Feng Lei was among them, looking at the crowd around and feeling a bit dazed.
For at this mont, the glint in the eyes of these citizens seed different, starkly contrasting the previous lifeless state.
By evening, as Feng Lei finally had so free ti.
He returned to his long-awaited residence and started chatting with friends in the livestream.
Spent most of the half day communicating with NPCs, not much was discussed on the livestream side.
Looking at the barrage in the livestream, Feng Lei was curious:
"Are marches erupting elsewhere too?"
"What’s going on?"
Following the prompts from his livestream friends, Feng Lei opened the player forum on Polestar Official Website.
Upon entering the Republic section, a pinned post featured a video collection of the May Fourth Movent’s storyline.
Curiously, Feng Lei clicked in.
The screen slowly brightened, somber music played, perspectives switched, with numb crowds and citizens everywhere in the grayscale video.
Until the perspective switched to Capital City with the calls of the newspaper boys.
The citizens on the street had all learned of the Western powers’ actions, the scene gained a touch of color, so people cursed, so shook their heads.
Yet the perspective shifted, revealing more numb citizens and workers chanistically laboring.
The little color that had tinged the screen vanished in an instant.
Though these could spark the public’s anger, it was only fleeting, for affairs of the state were beyond individual words.
The scene continued to fluctuate until within Capital City’s university.
Reading the newspaper in hand, the furious students raised banners, storming out of their sheltered campus, holding white banners, the thousand-strong student crowd resembling a white dragon moving forward.
In the gray-toned video, the numb world was dyed with color by the marching ’dragon’.
And gradually spreading, diffusing.
At this mont, the citizens rely stared blankly, unclear of what was happening, what aning this held?
Until large numbers of black-uniford military police arrived.
The dark-uniford warlord forces surrounded the group of students, the video initially dyed in color by the student group gradually turned back to dark gray.
The footage moved across various locations.
Capital City, Tianjin, Changsha, Jinan, Shanghai....
Marching students were arrested and driven away by warlords from various places.
The newly ignited fla was gradually extinguishing.
The scene suddenly switched to an old factory area by a dock.
Evening.
In the sweltering sumr, laborers, having worked all day, gathered together under a big tree.
Yet everyone was silent.
An aged worker, frowning and puffing irritating tobacco smoke, drew one mouthful after another, his gaze lingering on the distant playful children sowhat lost:
"Those kids during the dayti.... all got arrested."
As the words fell, the surroundings grew even more silent.
A mont later.
A worker spoke sullenly:
"Not all got arrested, just so leaders."
No response from anyone.
The old worker puffed several more mouthfuls of tobacco before speaking:
"That still ans getting arrested."
The old worker’s words felt like a stone dropped into everyone’s heart.
In the distance.
The group of ragged children continued to laugh carefreely, playing and chasing, only weighing heavier on the hearts of the adults under the tree.
A worker, staring at those children, suddenly said:
"Those students who were arrested are just a few years older than my kid...."
The worker beside sighed:
"They’re all educated kids, what cri could they commit?"
"Just for speaking a few honest words.... what is this all about?"
The old worker puffed tobacco and his gaze lingered on the group of kids, appearing sowhat distracted:
"What did our parents teach us as children?"
"Work diligently, stay out of trouble, bear with it and things will pass...."
"So issues, so people we can’t afford to offend."
The old worker slowly exhaled a puff of smoke and tapped his tobacco pipe on his shoe sole:
"Decades have passed in the blink of an eye by bearing it."
"Got used to bearing it."
"But those kids are different, they’ve read more books than us, seen more of the world, they know so things can’t be borne."
The surrounding workers clenched their fists, their knuckles turning white.
The old worker watched the distant children:
"I’ve borne it for decades, my son for decades as well, surely can’t let my grandson grow up to be just like , continue bearing for a lifeti."
"After a lifeti of bearing, not daring to speak a single fair word?"
"What’s it all for after living a lifeti?"
"Agonizing."
No one answered, but everyone’s breath was heavy.
The distant laughter of children weighed on the hearts of all, being parents, who would want their child to live a life just like theirs.
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