178: Chapter 178 The Sound Post Office

The dark red dot on the happiness map was called Baishi Town. Lin Feng had never been there, and Old Zhou had never delivered mail there either. It wasn't because it was far, but because no one there wrote letters. Lin Feng squatted under the Old Locust Tree, staring at the red dot on his phone screen that was about to fade out, watching it for a long time. The cat also squatted beside him, staring at the phone screen; it couldn't understand the red dot, but it knew what Lin Feng was looking at. Lin Feng stood up and patted his pants. "Let's go to Baishi Town." The cat didn't follow; it jumped onto the roof and squatted in front of the telescope, looking off into the distance. It seemed to think Baishi Town was too far and didn't want to walk.

Lin Feng went alone. He walked very slowly, looking at his feet with every step. After leaving Xinfeng Town, the road grew narrower and narrower, changing from asphalt to concrete, from concrete to gravel, and from gravel to a grass path. There were no houses on either side, only wild grass and stones. After walking for three hours, he saw the road sign for Baishi Town. The sign was made of wood and leaned to one side, reading "Baishi Town, Population 43." Below that was a line of small words written in paint: "Baishi Town is not white." Lin Feng squatted by the sign, looking at that small line of text. He didn't know what "not white" meant, but he knew that the person who wrote those words must have been unhappy.

He walked inside. The main street was very short; it took less than two minutes to walk from one end to the other. There were houses on both sides, but the doors and windows were tightly shut. Grass grew in some doorways, and the plaster was peeling off some walls, revealing the red bricks beneath. The only place with a light on was a small bar with a wooden sign hanging at the door that said "Baishi Bar." Lin Feng pushed the door open and entered. Seven or eight people were sitting inside, all old men and women, each with a glass of beer in front of them, and no one was talking. The television was on, but there was no sound. The bartender was a young man in his early twenties, currently wiping a glass. He froze for a moment when he saw Lin Feng. "Where are you from?" Lin Feng said, "Xinfeng Town." The bartender put down the glass, walked out, and looked at Lin Feng. "Are you that person who makes people laugh?" Lin Feng nodded. The bartender pointed at the old men and women. "They don't laugh. Before you came, they didn't laugh. After you came, they still don't laugh." Lin Feng squatted down in the middle of the bar. The old men and women looked at him, but no one spoke. The images on the TV flickered without sound, like a silent film. Lin Feng pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the recording app, and played a clip of a cat purring. The purring sound came from the phone and echoed through the quiet bar, muffled and low, like distant thunder. An old man looked up, glanced at the phone, and then lowered his head again. An old woman also looked up, glanced at Lin Feng, and then lowered her head. Lin Feng then played a clip of the tinkling sound of a glass harp—ding, ding, ding—like someone knocking on a door. No one opened a door, but the old woman's finger moved slightly, as if tapping the tabletop to the rhythm. He played a third clip: it was Lin Xiaohe's laughter. Giggle, giggle—the laughter bounced around the bar like a marble. The bartender smiled. He couldn't help it and laughed out loud. The old men and women looked at him; they didn't laugh, but the corner of one old woman's mouth twitched upward.

Lin Feng turned off the recording and squatted in front of the bar counter. "Why don't the people here talk?" The bartender said, "There's nothing to say. Everything that should be said has been said. And for what shouldn't be said, no one listens even if you say it." He pulled a photo album from under the counter and flipped it open. On the photo was a young woman with long hair, smiling happily. "My sister. She used to live in Baishi Town. Then she left. When she left, she didn't leave an address. She never came back." He flipped to another page, showing an old man wearing a hard hat, standing in front of a mine cart. "My dad. A miner. He died underground in the Baishi Town mine. After the mine closed, the people in town left one after another. My mom left too. Those who are left are the ones who can't move away." Lin Feng looked at those photos for a long time. "Why don't you leave?" The bartender said, "My dad opened this bar. He's dead, so I have to guard it." He paused. "Guarding it is useless, though. No one comes." Lin Feng stood up, walked to the bar's entrance, and squatted down. He was thinking, what does Baishi Town need? It wasn't money, roads, telescopes, or colored lights. It was sound. Someone to talk, and someone to listen. He thought of the wall in the church, the letters, and the slips of paper. Baishi Town didn't have a wall, but it had a bar. The bar had tables, chairs, glasses, and alcohol. He could turn the glasses into letters. He walked back and squatted in front of the counter. "Give me a glass." The bartender took a glass and handed it to him. Lin Feng placed the glass on the table, picked up a pen, and wrote a single word on the glass: "Listen." The bartender looked at the word. "What is this?" Lin Feng said, "You can talk to the glass. When you're done, put the glass on the shelf. When someone else drinks, they can pick up the glass and hear your words." The bartender was stunned. "The glass can hear?" Lin Feng said, "The glass can't, but a phone can. I'll help you record it. When it's recorded, I'll stick it to the bottom of the glass. Just scan it, and you can listen." He took out his phone and handed it to the bartender. "You speak." The bartender hesitated for a moment, took the phone, and said into the microphone: "My name is Xiao Ma. My sister's name is Ma Lan. She's been gone for ten years. She hasn't come back." When he finished, he handed the phone back to Lin Feng. Lin Feng saved the recording on his phone, generated a QR code, printed it out, and stuck it to the bottom of the glass. He placed the glass on the liquor shelf. He then picked up another empty glass and said into the phone: "My name is Lin Feng. I come from Xinfeng Town. I'm here to listen to the sounds of this place." After recording, he stuck the code on and put it on the shelf. A row of empty glasses sat on the shelf, each with a QR code stuck to the bottom. The bartender looked at the glasses. "Can this really be useful?" Lin Feng said, "Try it. If no one listens, it's useless. If someone listens, it's useful."

The next day, the glasses in the Baishi Bar had QR codes on them. When customers came and picked up a glass, they saw the QR code on the bottom and asked the bartender what it was. The bartender said, "Scan it." A customer scanned it and heard Lin Feng's voice: "My name is Lin Feng. I come from Xinfeng Town. I'm here to listen to the sounds of this place." The customer was stunned. He picked up another glass, scanned it, and heard the bartender's voice: "My name is Xiao Ma. My sister's name is Ma Lan. She's been gone for ten years. She hasn't come back." The customer's eyes turned red. He picked up his own glass and said into the phone: "My name is Old Li. My son is in the city. He hasn't been back for three years." He handed the recording to the bartender, who helped him stick it to the bottom of the glass. Another person, another recording. The people in the bar began to speak. They spoke into the glasses, to strangers, to those who had left, and to themselves. There were more and more glasses, and more and more QR codes. The liquor shelf was no longer enough, so the bartender nailed a row of wooden boards to the wall and placed the glasses on them, just like the wall in the church.

When Old Zhou came to deliver mail, he passed through Baishi Town and went in for a drink. He saw the glasses on the wall and was stunned. "What is this?" Lin Feng said, "A Sound Post Office. The glasses are the letters, and the QR codes are the stamps. Scan them, and you can hear." Old Zhou picked up a glass, scanned it, and heard an old woman's voice: "My name is Wang Xiuying. My husband has been gone for five years. I talk to his photo every day. He can't hear me, but I say it anyway." After listening, Old Zhou was silent for a long time. He picked up his own glass and said into the phone: "My name is Old Zhou. A mailman. I've delivered mail for forty years. Sometimes, I don't know who to deliver the letters to." He handed the recording to the bartender, who helped him stick it to the bottom of the glass. Old Zhou took a sip of beer, stood up, and patted his pants. "I'm heading back." He got on his bike, the chain tinkling as he rode away. Lin Feng squatted at the bar entrance, watching Old Zhou's departing figure. The bartender walked out and squatted beside him. "Will he come back?" Lin Feng said, "He will. His voice is in the glass. If he wants to listen, he'll come."

Word of Baishi Town's Sound Post Office spread. People from Millfield came, people from Greenfield came, people from Xinfeng Town came, and people from even further away came. They walked into the bar, picked up glasses, scanned QR codes, and listened to the voices of strangers. Some cried after listening, some laughed, and some didn't speak, silently putting down one glass and picking up another. There were more and more glasses, spreading from the walls to the ceiling, and from the ceiling to the bar counter. The bartender was busy every day sticking on QR codes and wiping glasses. The glasses were wiped and used, used and wiped, becoming brighter and brighter with each cleaning. Those voices remained in the glasses, unable to be wiped away. Lin Feng squatted at the bar entrance, watching the people come and go. The cat had followed him this time, squatting beside him, tilting its head to look at the glasses. It didn't understand QR codes, but it understood sound. It heard an old woman crying, so it walked over and rubbed its head against her leg. The old woman looked down, saw the cat, and smiled. She stroked the cat's head. "You understand too?" The cat didn't answer; it narrowed its eyes, and its throat let out a purring sound. The old woman cried again, but this time, she was smiling through her tears.

[Chapter 178 End]