Su Ling's Time Travel

The father and son were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Zhang Fugui patted his son on the shoulder, gesturing for him to continue. "Guozhu," he said, "although this letter isn't addressed to you, it makes us cherish the time we spend with our families even more. We must strive to do this job well, ensuring that every letter is delivered to its recipient on time and safely." His words were filled with determination and resolve.

Zhang Guozhu nodded, taking a deep breath as if to absorb this feeling and responsibility into his very being. "Dad, I understand. I will treat every letter with even greater care, because they all carry the longing and expectations of others." His voice, though low, was full of strength and determination.

As the father and son continued their postal journey, their hearts were filled with longing for their families and reverence for their work. That special letter seemed to become a scenic element in their journey, allowing them to more deeply appreciate the meaning and value of the postman's job.

Walking along the winding mountain road, Zhang Guozhu couldn't help but ask, "Dad, have you ever encountered a similar situation before? Like when you were delivering a letter and you felt the recipient's strong emotional fluctuations?"

Zhang Fugui thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Guozhu. I remember once, I delivered a will to a remote mountain village. It was written by an old man to his son. He knew his days were numbered and hoped to leave some words for his son before he died. When I saw that will, I felt particularly sad. At that moment, I deeply felt the weight and sacredness of the postman's job." As he spoke, complex emotions flickered in his eyes.

Listening to his father's words, Zhang Guozhu felt a surge of inexplicable emotion. He began to cherish every moment spent with his father even more, and his determination to do a good job as a postman became even stronger. "Dad, I will always remember your words. I will strive to be a responsible and dedicated postman, ensuring that every letter carries love and hope to its recipient." His words were filled with firmness and confidence.

Looking at his son, Zhang Fugui felt a surge of pride and joy. He knew his son had grown up and could now understand and accept the special significance of this job. "Guozhu," he said, "Dad believes you can do it. Because you're not just a postman, you're someone who delivers love and hope." His words were full of encouragement and expectation.

As night fell, the father and son continued their journey along the mountain path. Their shadows stretched long in the afterglow of the setting sun, as if telling a story of love and responsibility. And that special letter seemed to become an enduring source of both longing and motivation in their hearts.

"Guozhu, every time you deliver a letter in the future, remember the story behind it and the recipient's expectations," Zhang Fugui instructed in the night. His voice was low but full of strength and warmth.

“Yes, Dad. I will. I will try my best to feel the emotions behind each letter and convey them with love and responsibility,” Zhang Guozhu replied, his eyes shining with determination. He knew that he was not just delivering letters, but also conveying the inseparable kinship and love between people.

The night was as dark as ink, dotted with countless stars, and the Dong village was immersed in tranquility. Zhang Fugui and his son Zhang Guozhu stayed overnight in the home of a hospitable villager. The simple wooden house was filled with a faint scent of wood. Lying on the hard wooden bed, Zhang Guozhu tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. His thoughts raced through his mind like a wild horse.

"Dad, are you asleep?" Zhang Guozhu asked softly, breaking the silence of the night.

Zhang Fugui hadn't actually fallen asleep; he'd been pondering how to help his son better understand the meaning of a postman's job. Hearing his son's voice, he turned over to face Zhang Guozhu. "No, Guozhu. Are you thinking about today too?" His voice was low and gentle.

Zhang Guozhu nodded, his voice exceptionally clear in the night. "Yes, Dad. After experiencing so much today, I've been reflecting on it ever since I lay down. That mother's letter, and the people and events we encountered along the way, have given me new insights into the postal route and into life." His tone was tinged with emotion.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Fugui felt a surge of relief. He knew his son was growing up and gradually understanding the true meaning of his work. "Guozhu," he said, "I'm so glad you think this way. The postal route is more than just a road; it's a bridge connecting people's hearts. Every letter we deliver may be conveying a story, an emotion, or even a person's destiny." His words were filled with emotion and reverence.

Listening to his father's words, Zhang Guozhu felt a surge of inexplicable emotion. He began to understand more deeply the meaning and value of the postman's job. "Dad," he said, "I used to think that postmen just delivered letters, nothing special. But now I see that our work is truly meaningful. Behind every letter, there may be someone waiting and hoping. We deliver not just letters, but also hope and warmth." His voice, though low, was full of strength and determination.