It has always been my wish to return to China. However, because there are too many complicated and trivial things, I have never been able to do what I wanted. One day, after watching Mount Fuji, when I took the subway back to my residence, it was already dark. I opened the mailbox as usual. It was an old mailbox that my wife and I made out of camphor wood nine years ago. It is two feet high and 1.5 Feet wide. It looks a bit like a wooden house in a fairy tale, covered with thick green paint. My wife is no longer here. She died on September 19, 2013 (August 15 on the lunar calendar). That day happened to be the traditional Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival. Later, I always regarded the Mid-Autumn Festival as the anniversary of my wife's death. Perhaps like all bizarre stories, perhaps all stories in the world are unbelievable. However, this is a fact and, equally, a story.
