Su Ling's Time Travel

As night fell, the village celebrations reached their climax. The bonfire party began, and the villagers danced joyfully around the fire. Zhang Fugui and Zhang Guozhu were also invited to join in, and they followed the villagers' steps, fully enjoying the joy and happiness.

In the firelight, smiles radiated from everyone's faces. Zhang Guozhu looked at his father and the villagers beside him, his heart filled with emotion. "Dad, I'm so happy to be here, to experience this unique ethnic culture. I feel this is the meaning of life," he said, his words brimming with sincerity and emotion.

Zhang Fugui smiled as he looked at his son, knowing how important this moment was for Zhang Guozhu. "Guozhu," he said, "life is like this. It's full of unknowns and surprises, challenges and opportunities. But as long as we feel, experience, and cherish it with our hearts, we will surely find our own happiness and meaning." His words were full of wisdom and love.

After the bonfire party, Zhang Fugui and Zhang Guozhu were warmly invited to stay overnight in the village by the villagers. Lying in the simple yet cozy guesthouse, listening to the chirping of insects outside the window and the barking of dogs in the distance, they felt a sense of peace and contentment.

"Dad, I'm so happy today. I feel that this trip not only allowed me to see beautiful scenery and unique ethnic culture, but also taught me how to cherish and be grateful for every moment in life," Zhang Guozhu said softly, his voice filled with emotion and satisfaction.

Hearing his son's words, Zhang Fugui felt a surge of warmth in his heart. "Guozhu, you're right. Life is like that; it's full of beauty and miracles. As long as we feel it with our hearts, cherish it, and create it, we will surely find our own happiness and fulfillment." His words were filled with anticipation and confidence for the future.

As night deepened, Zhang Fugui and Zhang Guozhu drifted off to sleep in their cozy guesthouse. They knew that tomorrow held a long road ahead, and many more stories awaited their discovery and creation. But at this moment, they only wanted to immerse themselves in this tranquility and contentment, allowing their souls to receive the purest cleansing and nourishment.

"Guozhu, let's get up early tomorrow and go for another walk around the village. I want to learn more about the culture and customs here," Zhang Fugui said to his son before going to bed, his voice full of anticipation and excitement.

“Okay, Dad. I’d also like to learn more about this beautiful Dong village,” Zhang Guozhu replied, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and curiosity for the future.

On their second morning in the Dong village, the gentle sunlight bathed the cobblestone streets, draping the ancient village in a golden veil. Zhang Fugui and his son Zhang Guozhu were preparing to continue their postal journey when they unexpectedly received a special letter.

The letter was given to Zhang Fugui by the village postman. The envelope was written in familiar yet unfamiliar handwriting. The sender was a woman named Li Wanfen, but the recipient was Zhang Guozhu.

Looking at the name on the envelope, Zhang Fugui felt a pang of doubt. He turned to his son, Zhang Guozhu, who also looked blank. "Guozhu, do you recognize this name?" he asked softly, handing the envelope to his son.

Zhang Guozhu took the envelope, carefully examined the handwriting, and then shook his head. "Dad, I don't recognize it. Could it have been sent to the wrong address?" His voice held a hint of confusion.

Zhang Fugui frowned. He knew the meticulous nature of a postman's job; the possibility of sending something by mistake was almost zero. He gestured for his son to open the envelope and look at the contents of the letter together.

Zhang Guozhu carefully opened the envelope and took out the letter inside. As he read on, his expression gradually became serious. Zhang Fugui, seeing his son's expression, also felt a vague unease.

“Dad, this…this is a letter a mother wrote to her son.” Zhang Guozhu’s voice was low. He looked up at his father, his eyes flashing with complex emotions. “But the son is not me.”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Fugui was deeply moved. He took the letter and read it carefully. In the letter, the mother, Li Wanfen, expressed her longing and worry for her son who had not returned home for many years, her words filled with maternal love and anticipation. She mentioned the little things from her son's childhood, those warm scenes seeming to be right before her eyes. However, what touched Zhang Fugui the most was the last sentence of the letter: "My son, wherever you go, my heart will always be with you. I hope you can come home soon so that I can see you again."

After reading the letter, Zhang Fugui's eyes welled up with tears. He looked up at his son and saw that Zhang Guozhu's eyes were also glistening with tears. "Guozhu, this letter... reminds us of our own families, doesn't it?" he asked softly, trying to calm his emotions.

Zhang Guozhu nodded, his voice slightly choked. "Dad, I never imagined that the job of a postman would carry so much emotion. Behind every letter, there might be a story of waiting and anticipation." As he spoke, he looked down at the letter in his hand, as if he could feel the heavy weight of those emotions.

Zhang Fugui sighed, deeply aware of the special significance of this job. "Yes, Guozhu. Being a postman is not just a job, but a responsibility and a mission. We deliver not only letters and goods, but also the emotions and concerns between people." His words were filled with emotion and reverence.