A Young Woman's Heart

Time flies.

The summer vacation atmosphere seems to be just around the corner.

After returning, it will be my senior year of high school.

Although it's only the beginning of May.

The mail carrier rode his old, dark green bicycle from a distance, the cloth bag with the words "Post Office" written in large characters on the back seat particularly eye-catching.

He first placed a newspaper on the counter as usual, glanced at the cigarettes in the counter, and then looked back at them: "There are two letters today, one addressed to Mo Xueyao, and the other to... Li Wanyan."

"Ah, it's for me and Wanyan." Mo Xueyao said with some surprise. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The postman glanced at the cigarettes on the counter again, licked his lips, and finally couldn't help but say, "Give me a pack of Hongmei cigarettes for two yuan and fifty cents."

"This one?"

"Correct."

Mo Xueyao handed him the cigarette, then casually tossed the change back into the cash drawer.

After receiving money so many times, you start to look down on those few loose coins.

"Sent by Nora, from Russia. Has she gone back?" Mo Xueyao touched the stamp on the envelope with some curiosity. It seemed to have some similarities to the style of China.

Li Wanyan took a comb and walked behind Mo Xueyao, combing her increasingly long black hair as she softly asked, "What about mine?"

"Let me see... um... the women's prison..."

"It's my mother."

"Ouch, ouch—it hurts!" Mo Xueyao cried out as if her hair was stuck, tilting her head back.

Li Wanyan loosened her grip and calmed down again.

Only after I finished combing her ponytail did I eagerly pick up the letter.

The letter was sent by Li Wanyan's mother.

Since learning the truth, I have stopped trying to cover it up.

In fact, she didn't care at all even though the address clearly stated the word 'prison'.

"How is your mother doing there?" Mo Xueyao asked curiously as she leaned closer.

Li Wanyan didn't answer, but simply moved the letter closer to her so that both of them could clearly see the words written on it.

The letter didn't contain much; it just said that she had been getting busier lately because the better she performed, the sooner she could get out of work, so she had taken on a lot of jobs. She was even rated as excellent last month. However, she was feeling a little tired because she was getting too little sleep every day.

She mailed the letter on May 1st, a day when the prison was on holiday and everyone was free to move around. That's when she finally found some time to write the letter.

The food is ordinary, but it's much better than before.

At the very least, the meat and vegetable dishes are well-balanced.

Unlike in the past, when we might only eat minced meat once a week.

She not only asked Li Wanyan how she was doing lately, but also specifically inquired about Mo Xueyao's situation.

"Huh, you mentioned me." Mo Xueyao pointed at the words 'Xiaoyao' in surprise. "You asked if we had a fight... How could that be?"

"Perhaps in the future."

"Absolutely impossible, how could I dare to argue with you?" Mo Xueyao pouted, which amused Li Wanyan so much that she couldn't help but smile. Seeing her smile, Yi also smiled foolishly.

The letter also stated that several new types of goods were being produced in the prison, and that living in prison didn't seem to be that different from working in a factory.

Recently, she started learning to make handmade soap. Once she's skilled, she'll buy some materials from the production line at her own expense and make one for each of them. She also asked Mo Xueyao what colors and small animals she liked.

"As for me... a cat, I guess? A black cat would be fine... Could I really make one?"

"There should be a mold."

“I also think it’s too difficult to do it all by hand.” Mo Xueyao had finished reading Li Wanyan’s letter and turned to open the one Nora had sent.

The letter was heavy, containing a thick stack of letter paper, many photos, and even a few small items neatly wrapped in newspaper.

What's even more surprising is that the letter was written in Chinese.

"Nora's?" Li Wanyan seemed somewhat surprised as well.

"Yeah, that's strange... why is it in Chinese, and... it looks like it's printed."

Li Wanyan pressed her cheek against Mo Xueyao's hair and started reading from the first sentence.

"Xiaoyao, this is a letter I had someone write for me in Chinese. See if they've conveyed my message properly."

When the writer wrote this sentence as she requested, I don't know how I felt...

Nora did not continue working in Country Z.

She traveled to several prosperous countries during this period, and finally went to Africa.

I just returned to Russia a week ago.

I visited many places in a short period of time, but I spent the longest time in Africa.

We went to a relatively orderly small country.

However, even within this so-called order, there is still some chaos.

There were several kings in the country, but the real state power was only like that of a more powerful warlord.

The journey took a lot of time; a short distance of only a few dozen kilometers took two whole days, much longer than her journey from Russia to Country Z.

The people there drive dilapidated, scrapped cars. These cars, which should have been scrapped, were smuggled in. Some of the accelerator pedals are even made of wood pieced together...

"It doesn't feel like we're living in the same world."

“That’s what Africa is like.” Li Wanyan nodded. Although she had never been there, she had seen some reports about it before.

The letter continued, saying that Nora had returned to Russia and didn't plan to leave for a long time.

With her father's support, she took over an old farm. As she wrote the letter, her father was repairing a tractor that hadn't been driven for over ten years, trying to bring it back to life.

She was very confident about this, after all, if a scrapped car that was fifty or sixty years old could be given a second life in Africa, a tractor that was at most twenty years old would definitely come in handy.

"Nora is planning to become a farmer? It sounds... pretty good." Mo Xueyao was a little envious. As a Chinese person—regardless of her bloodline, having been born and raised here, she was indeed a thorough Chinese person.

They share a similar mindset with the general public, preferring to have their own little plot of land, believing that no matter what, as long as they work hard, they can grow something to eat.

If you stockpile more food, you won't even have to worry about years of famine.

Being a farmer means being your own master, free and unrestrained...

That's certainly true in Mo Xueyao's imagination.

“There is a lot of idle land over there.”

"But a lot of them probably can't be used, right? But it's not bad... Nora said that in their place, there is spring and summer every year."

Even in Russia, temperatures in many areas can reach over 35 degrees Celsius in the summer.

Later, I wrote about many interesting things that happened on the road. In fact, even things that felt painful or sad at the time, when I wrote them down in my memory, I could always find parts that were interesting.

People always romanticize their past memories, just as wounds always heal.

Those healed wounds and the beautified memories become the force that supports people to move forward.

"Finally..." Mo Xueyao unconsciously read the last paragraph of the letter, "The newspaper contained seeds, both vegetables and flowers, all mixed together. Let's plant them and see what surprises they might grow."

Mo Xueyao then remembered the little trinket wrapped in newspaper when she opened the letter. She carefully opened one, and a number of seeds, each half the size of a grain of rice, spilled out.

She quickly closed it, but quite a few pieces still fell into the corner.

"This is fine for Mom, she loves growing all sorts of random things anyway." Mo Xueyao shouted to her busy mother, "Mom—my Russian friend sent me a lot of different kinds of seeds, I've just put them in the drawer over there!"

"Oh!" It's unclear whether her mother listened or not, but her answer was somewhat perfunctory.

The laminated photo shows Nora's smiling face against a backdrop of a farm. The weeds are so tall they've covered half of her body, and it looks like it will take a lot of effort to clean it up completely.

There are some old buildings behind, but they look relatively intact, especially the windmill, which looks like it can still turn.

"Wow, it's huge! Is this a mill?"

"Ah."

"A windmill, it sounds like a really interesting thing. Maybe it could be turned into a wind power station?" Mo Xueyao said dreamily, then quickly dismissed her idea, "Ah, it's definitely not that easy..."

Their eyes met, and in that instant, another name came to mind—

Mr. Xue.

The two exchanged a knowing smile and did not reveal the name.

Letters, an ancient form of communication.

Whether it's longing, joy, or pain, it can be used to convey these feelings.

Although the internet had become widespread globally by 2001, letters were still not replaced.

Perhaps it will one day disappear from human history, but hopefully that day will come later.

Mo Xueyao thought to herself leisurely.

"Hmm, I have to reply. What should I say... I can't exactly send some seeds too, can I?" Mo Xueyao put the letter into an envelope, tapping her head and muttering, "I think I had a few game tokens left from the arcade last time I went. Should I send them over...? But it doesn't seem to make much sense..."

Li Wanyan did not answer, because she was also deep in thought with her eyes slightly lowered.

The warm morning breeze, carrying sunlight, shone into the fruit shop.

The two of them lay down on the small folding table and began writing on their respective sheets of paper.

Try your best to make the letter express your feelings so that the reader can hear the sender's voice in their mind.

The fruit shop was unusually quiet this morning.

There weren't many customers.

Su Tang lay on the steps, lazily pawing at a kitten that had only been born a short time ago with her furry paws.

The kitten seemed to be mistaking it for its mother, nuzzling and rubbing against her, but clearly, it couldn't find where it was looking...

"Shh." That's the sound of a pen writing on paper.

"Mom, I miss you so much."

……