When my aunt passed away, she made a last wish and asked me to write down the life stories of her and another female gentleman. Perhaps because she was afraid that I would be too stressed, she changed her words and wrote them down for preservation. Along with the will, there were thirty family letters sealed in a sandalwood box and handed over to me.
I can't imagine how, in such a war-torn era, these letters could cross thousands of mountains and rivers. Like a swan goose that knows its way, it can always find the right direction and fly into the hands of the other party.
I remember that after I got the sandalwood box, I locked myself in the study and didn't take in any water or rice for the whole day. When I go out, my eyes are swollen, I feel sad and I can't control myself.
Every time I wanted to write, I was afraid that my words would not express my true feelings, and that I would not be able to express even one-tenth of the deep friendship between the two women. I was also afraid that my pen and ink would not be able to express the righteousness of family and country behind the love between my children, and I would offend them both.
After putting it aside for nearly seven years, I finally plucked up the courage to re-read the thirty family letters left by my aunt, feeling just as sad as before.
I pick up the pen and write again now, with the intention of fulfilling my aunt's last wish, and also to settle a matter on my mind.
Only the preface of this article is narrated in the first person, and the main text from the beginning to the end is written in the third person.
Intention: I love you, so I am invincible