72: Chapter 72 Reply

After the first mushroom grew, Greenfield felt as if it had been gently nudged by something.

The feeling was subtle. The town was still the same town, the dilapidated houses were still those same dilapidated houses, and the people were still the same people. But something was different.

Martha was the first to notice this difference.

That morning, she went to Sam's to learn guitar as usual. Halfway there, she stopped, stood in the middle of the main street, and looked around.

Someone was sweeping the floor in front of her house. That door, which had been closed for five years, was now open, and an old woman was holding a broom, sweeping the fallen leaves one stroke at a time.

Someone was fixing a window. That window, broken for ten years, was now nailed up with a new piece of wood—though it was crooked, it was indeed nailed up.

Someone was sunbathing in the yard. But that person sunbathing was holding a letter in their hand, reading while basking in the sun, the corners of their mouth curled up.

Martha stood there for a long time.

Then she continued on her way to Sam's. Her pace was a little faster than usual.

Sam was still sitting on the steps in front of Paul's house.

But today, he wasn't alone. Three old women were sitting beside him, each holding a guitar—all made by Chris out of old wood; they were out of tune, but they could be played.

Martha walked over and sat in her spot. That spot had already been worn into a shallow depression by her.

Sam looked at her and asked, "What do you want to learn today?"

Martha thought for a moment and said, "I want to learn a letter I can sing."

Sam was stunned for a moment.

Martha continued, "I wrote a letter yesterday. I wrote it to Xinfeng Town. But I didn't know how to write it, so I thought, it would be good if I could sing it."

Sam was silent for three seconds.

Then he laughed.

He took the guitar from Martha's hands and strummed a few notes gently. The melody was slow and soft, like someone speaking slowly.

"You read it," he said. "I'll play."

Martha took a deep breath and began to read:

"Stranger in Xinfeng Town, hello. My name is Martha, and I am seventy-three years old. My husband died fifteen years ago. I live alone. I learned to play the guitar, though I don't play well. I wrote a letter, but I didn't know who to write it to. So I wrote it to whoever sees this letter."

Sam's guitar accompanied her voice, harmonizing softly. Those notes repeated, like nodding in agreement.

Martha finished reading and looked up at Sam.

"Does this count as a letter?"

Sam nodded.

"It does," he said, "and it's better than writing it down."

Martha lowered her head and looked at her hands. Those hands, covered in age spots, had just read out a letter—a letter that someone had heard.

She pressed her hands against her chest and smiled.

Chris was busy in the warehouse.

The mushrooms were growing faster than he had imagined. After the first one grew, a dozen more sprouted the next day. By the third day, the shelves were covered in white.

Henry arrived the earliest and left the latest every day. He squatted in front of the shelves, looking at them one by one, as if looking at his own children.

Chris walked over and squatted beside him.

"Like it?"

Henry nodded.

Chris asked, "Have you ever grown anything before?"

Henry shook his head: "No. My dad was a miner, and I was a miner too. All I've known in this life is digging for coal."

Chris looked at the mushrooms and said slowly, "Digging for coal and growing mushrooms are about the same."

Henry turned to look at him.

Chris continued, "Both are underground. Both are in the dark. And both have to be dug out to be seen."

Henry was silent for a while, then asked, "So what did you do before?"

Chris said, "I worked in machinery. Then I got laid off. After that, I went to Xinfeng Town."

Henry asked, "What is Xinfeng Town like?"

Chris thought for a moment and said, "The same as what you see right now."

Henry was stunned.

Chris stood up and patted his shoulder: "You watch the mushrooms. I'm going to check over there."

Henry nodded and continued to stare at the mushrooms.

Chris walked to the warehouse door and saw Yuki squatting there, holding her computer.

She had been squatting a lot lately. Not sitting on the steps, but squatting. In the same posture as Lin Feng.

Chris walked over and squatted beside her.

"What are you looking at?"

Yuki turned the computer screen toward him.

On the screen was a letter. Not handwritten, but typed, pages and pages of it.

Chris squinted for a while and asked, "What is this?"

Yuki typed a line on the keyboard: [Letters written by the people of Greenfield. I've compiled them.]

Chris took it and read line by line.

The first was Martha's. She said she had learned to play the guitar, that Sam was a good teacher, and that it was the first time she had written a letter in fifteen years.

The second was Henry's. He said he watched the mushrooms grow every day and felt his life hadn't been lived in vain. He said he wanted to learn how to grow mushrooms and teach others in the future.

The third was from an old woman. She said she read the letters and thought of her youth. She said she used to be able to sing, but stopped later on. She said she had started singing again now.

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth.

Chris read for a long time.

After finishing, he returned the computer to Yuki without saying a word.

Yuki looked at him.

Chris was silent for three seconds, then said, "Send these back to Xinfeng Town."

Yuki nodded.

Jenny and Linda were still going door to door.

But it was different from the past few days. Now, it wasn't them knocking on doors; the doors opened on their own.

Someone was waiting for them at the door.

Someone put a letter into their hands.

Someone asked, "Can my letter be sent out?"

Jenny held that wooden box, which was getting fuller and fuller. The one hundred letters brought from Xinfeng Town had been exchanged for over a hundred new ones.

Linda walked beside her, also holding a stack of letters. She read out the names, one by one.

"Martha's. Henry's. George's. Mary's. Tom's..."

As she read, she suddenly stopped.

Jenny turned to look at her.

Linda stared at a letter in her hand for a long time.

On the envelope of that letter, a name was written: Linda.

Jenny leaned over to look: "Who wrote it?"

Linda shook her head and opened the letter.

The letter was short, only a few lines.

[Hello, Linda. I don't know you. But I know you are doing something very important. You are letting others be seen. I want to do such things too. So I wrote this letter to you. Thank you.]

Linda stared at those lines for a long time.

Her eyes turned red.

Jenny stood by, not saying a word.

After a long time, Linda pressed the letter to her chest and said softly, "This is the first time I've received a letter."

Yuki sat at the entrance of Paul's house, scanning the stack of letters into the computer one by one.

She scanned very slowly. For each one, she had to take several photos to ensure every word was clear.

Halfway through, a message popped up on the screen.

From that mysterious administrator account.

It asked: [What are you doing?]

Yuki replied: [Sending letters.]

The other party asked: [Sending to whom?]

Yuki thought for a moment and typed a line: [To those who want to know how things are over here.]

The other party was silent for a while.

Then they sent a line: [Can I see?]

Yuki stared at that line for three seconds.

Then she sent the first letter she had just scanned. It was Martha's.

The other party received it.

For a long, long time, there was no reply.

Yuki didn't urge them. She continued scanning.

When she scanned the fifth one, a message came again.

[This Martha, what is she doing now?]

Yuki looked up and looked around.

Sam was still playing the guitar on the steps. Martha sat next to him, holding that broken guitar, playing along. She played very slowly and often made mistakes, but she kept playing.

Yuki looked down and typed a line: [Playing the guitar.]

The other party asked: [Is she playing well?]

Yuki thought for a moment and typed: [Not well. But she is smiling.]

The other party was silent again.

That night, the night sky over Greenfield was exceptionally clear.

There was no moon, but there were many stars. One by one, dense and numerous, like someone had scattered a handful of crushed diamonds.

A bonfire was lit at the entrance of the warehouse again. Chris brought out a few baskets of mushrooms and roasted them for everyone. Sam held his guitar and played that new song. Martha sat next to him, humming along. Henry sat next to Chris, holding a mushroom in his hand, reluctant to eat it.

Linda took out the newly written letters and read them to everyone one by one.

When she read Martha's, Martha covered her face and cried.

When she read Henry's, Henry lowered his head, not daring to look at anyone.

When she read the old woman's, the old woman stood up and said to everyone, "That was written by me."

Everyone applauded.

Yuki sat in the corner, holding her computer. On the screen, that mysterious administrator account sent a message again.

[What are they doing?]

Yuki replied: [Listening to letters.]

The other party asked: [Listening to whose?]

Yuki replied: [Listening to their own.]

The other party was silent for a long time.

Then they sent a line: [I want to come.]

Yuki stared at those three words for a long, long time.

She didn't reply.

But she kept that sentence in her heart.

The next morning, a pile of things appeared at the entrance of Paul's house.

Not letters, but replies.

Every one of the one hundred letters brought from Xinfeng Town had received a reply. Some were long, some were short; some had neat handwriting, some were crooked.

Jenny and Linda squatted on the ground, matching them one by one.

"The reply for George from Xinfeng Town is here."

"The reply for Edna from Xinfeng Town is here."

"The reply for Mike from Xinfeng Town is here."

"The reply for Sam from Xinfeng Town..."

Linda stopped suddenly.

Jenny leaned over to look.

It was a reply letter written to Sam.

The letter was very short, only one line: "Sam, I heard your song."

There was no signature.

Jenny and Linda exchanged a look.

Yuki walked over, glanced at the letter, and said nothing.

But she knew who had written it.

When Sam received that letter, he was playing the guitar.

He opened the letter, took one look, and froze.

Martha asked from the side: "Who wrote it?"

Sam shook his head: "I don't know."

He folded the letter, put it in his pocket, and continued playing the guitar.

But as he played, the corners of his mouth curled up.

That new song finally had a name.

He said to Martha: "This song is called 'Heard It'."

Chris received a letter.

It wasn't written to the Xinfeng Town Chris, but to the Greenfield Chris.

The letter was very short, only one sentence: "Thank you for teaching me to grow mushrooms. — Henry"

Chris looked at the letter for a long time.

He remembered how Henry looked the first time he entered the warehouse—his hair messy, his clothes tattered, and nothing in his eyes.

Now, Henry came the earliest and left the latest every day, and when he stared at the mushrooms, there was light in his eyes.

Chris folded the letter and put it in his pocket.

He stood up, walked to the warehouse door, and shouted inside: "Henry!"

Henry ran out.

Chris looked at him and said: "I received the letter you wrote."

Henry froze.

Chris reached out and patted his shoulder.

"You're growing them well."

Henry lowered his head, not speaking.

But his eyes turned red.

Yuki received a letter.

It wasn't handwritten, but printed.

The letter was very short, only one line: "Everything you let me see, I have seen."

Yuki stared at those words for a long time.

She knew who had written it.

She didn't reply.

But she folded the letter and put it in her pocket.

In that same pocket were several notes she had previously received from Lin Feng.

She touched those notes, and the corners of her mouth curled up.

That afternoon, Jenny and Linda put all the reply letters into that wooden box.

The box was very full and wouldn't close.

Linda tied it twice with a rope before it could barely close.

Jenny held the box, standing at the town entrance.

Sam, Chris, and Yuki stood beside her.

Paul stood opposite them, with the people from Greenfield behind him—Martha, Henry, and others whose names they couldn't recall.

Paul spoke. His voice was a bit hoarse: "You guys... are leaving just like that?"

Sam nodded.

Paul asked: "Are you coming back?"

Sam thought for a moment and said: "If you write letters, we will come back."

Paul froze.

Martha walked out from the crowd and approached Sam.

She looked at him for a long time.

Then she said: "Next time you come, teach me to sing that 'Heard It'."

Sam smiled. "Okay."

Henry walked up to Chris and handed him something.

It was a mushroom. Dried, wrapped in paper.

"This," Henry said, "is the first one."

Chris took it and looked at the mushroom.

It was dried, wrinkled, but still pale.

He put the mushroom into his toolbox, placing it with the tools.

"I'll keep it," he said.

Linda walked to Jenny and hugged her.

"Write letters," Linda said.

Jenny nodded. "I will."

Yuki stood at the very back, holding her computer.

On the screen, the mysterious administrator account sent a message: "Are they gone?"

Yuki replied: "Yeah."

The other person asked: "Are you coming back next time?"

Yuki looked at those people—Martha, Henry, Linda, Paul, and those standing in the distance.

They were all looking at her.

She lowered her head and typed a line: "Yes."

The car started.

Sam poked his head out of the car window and waved at those behind.

Martha waved too. Henry waved too. Linda waved too. Paul waved too. Those whose names they couldn't recall also waved.

Yuki sat in the back row, holding her computer.

On the screen, the mysterious administrator account sent another message: "I want to come too."

Yuki stared at those words for a long time.

Then she replied with a line: "Then come."

The other person didn't reply again.

But Yuki knew he would come.

The car drove for six hours.

When they returned to Xinfeng Town, it was already dark.

George stood at the town entrance, waiting for them.

Edna was standing beside him, leaning on a cane.

Mike poked his head out of the bar.

Alex and Rachel stood up from in front of the computers.

Tony stood up from under the old locust tree.

The young mother was holding her child, standing at the church door.

Margaret walked out of the restaurant, carrying two plates of mushrooms.

Lin Feng was squatting under the old locust tree, not moving.

Sam got off the car first.

He walked up to George, took the unsigned letter from his pocket, and handed it to him to see.

George glanced at it and smiled.

"Someone heard it," he said.

Chris got off second.

He walked to Edna, took the dried mushroom from his toolbox, and handed it to her.

Edna took it and looked at it for a long time.

"The first one," she said, "Keep it."

Jenny got off third.

She held the wooden box, walked to Alex and Rachel, and opened the box.

Inside were over two hundred letters. Xinfeng Town's, Greenfield's, all mixed together.

Alex and Rachel looked at those letters, unable to speak for a long time.

Yuki got off last.

She held her computer and walked to Lin Feng.

Lin Feng looked up at her.

Yuki squatted down to be at eye level with him.

Then she handed him a note.

Lin Feng looked down.

The note had only one line: "Someone is coming."

Lin Feng looked at those words for three seconds.

Then he smiled.

He folded the note and tucked it into his pocket.

"Then let him come."

That night, Xinfeng Town became lively again.

Mike moved a case of alcohol out of the bar—this time it was real alcohol.

Sam held his guitar and played that new song. Now it had a name: "Heard It".

Jenny took out those letters and distributed them one by one for everyone to read.

Chris placed the dried mushroom in the farm, putting it with the fresh ones.

Alex and Rachel added the Greenfield messages to the happiness map. A new red dot lit up.

Tony sat under the old locust tree with the book spread on his knees.

But he wasn't reading; he was watching the people, the corners of his mouth curled up.

The young mother held her child, standing in the crowd.

The child was awake, eyes open, watching the lively scene.

George and Edna sat together, two old people, neither speaking.

After a long time, George spoke: "Edna."

Edna turned to look at him.

George said: "My old friend came back today."

Edna paused: "Where?"

George pointed to his own chest: "Here. Ever since I came back from Greenfield, he has been here."

Edna was silent for three seconds.

Then she said: "Mine too."

George looked at her.

Edna smiled: "Martha wrote a letter. She learned to play the guitar."

George nodded.

The two old people sat under the moonlight, watching the lively crowd.

Neither spoke again.

But the corners of their mouths were curled up.

Lin Feng was still squatting under the old locust tree.

Margaret carried a plate of mushrooms, walked over, and squatted beside him.

"Hungry?"

Lin Feng took the plate and nodded.

He lowered his head to eat the mushrooms, one bite at a time, chewing slowly.

Margaret watched the people, watched the liveliness, watched the smiles.

"Lin Feng."

Lin Feng turned to look at her.

Margaret said: "Don't you think today is different again?"

Lin Feng thought for a moment and said: "Hmm."

Margaret asked: "How is it different?"

Lin Feng pointed to the people in the distance: "They are smiling."

Margaret looked in the direction he pointed.

George and Edna were smiling, Mike was smiling, Sam was smiling, Jenny was smiling, Chris was smiling, Alex and Rachel were smiling, Tony was smiling, the young mother was smiling, and the child was smiling too.

She watched for a long time.

Then she turned back and looked at Lin Feng.

"What about you?"

Lin Feng paused.

Margaret asked: "Are you smiling?"

Lin Feng didn't speak.

But the corners of his mouth were curled up.

Margaret smiled.

She stood up and walked toward the restaurant.

After two steps, she turned back: "I'm going to make another plate. There are still plenty of mushrooms."

Lin Feng nodded.

He squatted there, watching the people, watching the smiles, watching the moonlight falling on them.

The leaves of the old locust tree rustled in the wind.

He swallowed the last bite of mushroom, placed the plate to the side, and continued squatting.

The corners of his mouth were curled up.

[Chapter 72 End]