Two days after the Leah Qu phenomenon began to reshape online conversations, Lin Feng found himself walking alone through the Beijing Museum of Communication History. It was early—too early for visitors. But the curator had quietly opened the doors for him.
The soft glow of antiquated radios and transistor sets lined the halls. Broadcast tools from the 1930s, WWII-era field phones, Mao-era loudspeakers.
Tools that had once controlled the truth.
Lin stopped in front of an exhibit showing the first Chinese shortwave broadcast to reach Taiwan in 1949. The caption read: "When words flew farther than guns."
He stood in silence until his thoughts were interrupted by quiet footsteps. Yuwen Zhou approached, carrying two takeaway coffees.
"Thought you might want something warm."
"Thanks."
Yuwen handed him the cup and glanced at the exhibit. "This place feels like a graveyard. For voices."
