"Hello, here's your letter." It was still the same postman, still the familiar smile that Curley knew. He handed a letter to Curley, who opened the door, and skillfully handed over his record book.
Curley, equally skilled, pressed her fingerprint on it and joyfully took the letter from the Dwarf District.
She never expected the second letter to arrive so quickly; she hadn't even found the time to write a reply to her son Marvin.
For Curley, she increasingly appreciated the efficiency of the Great Tang Empire: could it be that these people, coming from afar, had really opened a dedicated route for mail delivery? Could it be so extravagant as to allow prisoners to write home every two or three days?
