The courtyard by the red walls.
Even the big boss barely held on until midnight.
He just couldn’t watch any longer and shook his head lightly.
“Feels like the tone this year is low. The programs are disappointing.”
“There are too many songs, dances and operas. Only one sketch, and you couldn’t even hear it clearly.”
“Yeah, yeah, so many stray noises!”
“The stage was so dark!”
The family sitting around discussed a few points before the big boss stopped them.
The clock passed twelve and New Year’s Eve was over; everyone was told to get some rest.
The boss didn’t give any formal instructions, but everyone knew in their hearts:
The previous two editions had been full of laughter and joy.
They’d even rushed to the central TV station late at night to request songs — got “My Chinese Heart” and “Clouds of Home” — brought them back and the whole family learned and sang together, all so warm and harmonious.
This year, though, people went to bed early!
……
The Broadcasting compound.
Minister Wu persisted grim-faced until the last moment, glancing at the time — it was already past one in the morning.
He’d watched rehearsals on site, but he hadn’t expected the actual broadcast to turn out like this.