Drone Watcher

Old Wang is a postman in Maple Leaf Town. He's been doing this job for almost twenty years, riding his old bicycle through the town's streets every day, rain or shine. Maple Leaf Town isn't big, just a few main roads and some old neighborhoods. He could navigate it with his eyes closed. Recently, things have been a little different in the town, or rather, things are different in the sky.

There are a few buzzing "giant flies" in the sky now. Old Wang knows they are drones, supposedly bought by the Canadian government to monitor the border. The border is just a small river away; on the other side is the United States. Old Wang often sees the farms on the other side, cows leisurely grazing in the fields, and occasionally a few cowboys riding horses, very much like a Western movie.

Since the drones appeared, Old Wang feels like he's living under surveillance every day. Before, after finishing his mail route, he would sneak down to the river to smoke a cigarette and look at the scenery on the other side. Now, whenever he gets close to the river, he feels like something is watching him from above.

This feeling is very unsettling, like he's been stripped naked and exposed to the public. Old Wang has tried to avoid the drones' line of sight, but they're like ghosts, always able to find him. He even suspects there might be a tracker on his bicycle.

One day, Old Wang went to the post office as usual to pick up the mail. After sorting it, he found a special package. It was large and heavy, with a label that read: "Maple Leaf Town Post Office, Old Wang to receive." Old Wang was puzzled. Who would send him such a large package? He looked closely at the sender's address; it was completely unfamiliar.

He moved the package onto his bicycle with great effort. It was so heavy that the bicycle wobbled. Old Wang was tempted to open it and see what was inside, but he resisted. He still had his professional integrity as a postman.

Old Wang began his delivery route for the day. Along the way, he felt the "giant fly" overhead was getting closer; it seemed to be following him. When he delivered the package to the recipient, it was a young man in a suit, who had a strange smile on his face as he took the package.

"Old Wang, thank you for your hard work!" the young man said, handing Old Wang an envelope.

Old Wang was confused. He opened the envelope; inside was a check for an astonishing $50,000 Canadian dollars.

"What does this mean?" Old Wang was puzzled.

The young man didn't answer, but instead pointed to the drone circling above and said, "You've done an excellent job. Please keep it up."

Old Wang looked up at the sky, and he suddenly understood. He wasn't delivering mail; he was transporting something. He was just a tool, a tool being monitored by a drone. That drone wasn't watching the border, it was watching him.

At that moment, Old Wang felt a sense of absurdity. He wandered around the town every day, diligently delivering mail, only to find himself unknowingly caught up in a game he didn't even know existed. His existence seemed to be just for the "surveillance" show of the drone.

Old Wang decided to strike. He threw his bicycle to the side and walked straight into the river. The water was cold; he felt the chill. He suddenly felt free again.

When he came out of the river, he found that the drone was gone; the sky was calm again. It was as if nothing had happened.

Old Wang returned home. His wife asked, "Why are you so late today?"

Old Wang smiled, but didn't answer.

The next day, Old Wang still rode his old bicycle and began his daily mail route. The sky was still clear, but this time, he didn't feel anything watching him from above. He even missed the buzzing of the "giant fly."

He went through today's mail and found a letter where the sender was the same person from yesterday. He opened the envelope; inside was another check, this time for $100,000 Canadian dollars. The letter read: "Old Wang, we have already tracked your movements. Your every action is under our control. Please keep it up."

Old Wang crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the trash, then continued his delivery route. He suddenly realized he could never escape this "surveillance" cycle. He looked up at the sky; the blue color seemed to be mocking his helplessness. He smiled, pressed down on the pedal, and the bicycle moved forward again, slowly.