"Sir, if there's no better way right now, we can only..."
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Lin Que didn't speak, but listened quietly.
The wind on the balcony ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead.
Green Ivy's heart sank little by little.
This is what she fears most.
The legendary "Dream Weaver of Hell" is aloof and writes books purely out of interest.
Now that he's caused such a big mess, and the website is even going to remove his book, who wouldn't be furious?
Will he get so angry that he stops writing altogether, or switch to another website?
Either way, it would be a devastating blow to Hongguo Novel Network.
"Sir, please...please don't be angry. This is only temporary. It will pass once things calm down..."
She stammered as she explained.
"Who told you I was angry?"
"ah?"
Green Ivy was completely dumbfounded.
"Listen!"
Lin Que leaned against the railing, his voice neither hurried nor slow.
"The book must not be taken off the shelves."
"But...but the pressure from above..."
"He wants me dead, but I'm determined to live."
And you must live better than anyone else.
Green Ivy was infected by his attitude, and her heart was filled with panic.
It inexplicably dissipated a bit.
"Then... what should we do?"
"You don't need to do anything."
Lin Que said.
"Do not issue any announcements, do not respond to any questions. If anyone asks, just say that it is under internal review."
"If the advertisers want to withdraw, let them withdraw. Let Wang Shouyi stir up as much trouble as he can."
"Huh? You... you just leave it like that?"
Green Ivy felt her brain couldn't keep up.
"Yes, hang in there."
Lin Que's tone became more resolute.
“He wants to see us fall, so we stand even taller. The bigger the wave he creates, the harder it will hurt when we fall.”
"in addition."
He then changed the subject.
"Tell your editor-in-chief to prepare the money."
What do you need the money for?
"Have the tech department harden the servers. The bigger the storm, the more expensive the fish!"
"Don't let the bowl be too small to catch it."
After saying that, Lin Que hung up the phone.
Leaving the pothos plant on the other end of the phone, I am alone in the noisy office.
Holding the overheated phone, I stood there dumbfounded.
Inside a room on the 28th floor of SOHO.
Lin Que looked down at the bustling city and was filled with thoughts.
Wang Shouyi wanted to use his power to crush him.
Then he used the god that Wang Shouyi himself had created to shatter himself.
He returned to his computer but did not log in to Hongguo.com.
Instead, he opened the "Insightful" inbox, which was so clean that it only contained a few emails.
He found the email sent by Xu Lan, the editor of "New Tide".
Lin Que's fingers tapped lightly on the keyboard.
Instead of replying directly, he created a new document.
He only wrote two words for the document's title.
【reply】
Then, the main text begins.
[To a confused reader who loves literature:]
Your letter has been received.
You mentioned witnessing a recent debate. Some say literature should be a sanctuary of hope; others say it should possess the courage to confront darkness.
You are confused and don't know who to believe.
I think this might not be a black-and-white choice.
Just as the mailbox in Namiya General Store connects the past and the future, literature similarly connects ideals and reality.
Of course, we need to sing praises to the sun, but if someone wanted to use a red cloth to cover the sun forever, allowing people only to praise the color of that red cloth...
Therefore, tearing away this cloth, even if it brings temporary darkness and pain, is still a greater light.
Recently, I heard that a senior figure in the literary world is attempting to use his power to define what literature is and to decide the fate of a platform and a work.
I want to say to him:
Teacher, your love for literature may not be wrong.
But what happens when that love becomes a narrow-mindedness that doesn't allow others to exist?
What you are protecting is no longer just literature.
Rather, it is your own shrine.
After writing the last word, Lin Que saved the document as an attachment and sent it to Xu Lan.
At the end of the email, he only added one sentence.
[This letter may be published if your publication deems it appropriate.]
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