HLM – Chapter 887 The Christmas Post Office

After taking a bunch of photos, Wang Bo took Eva and Dale to get their Arctic certificates.

In Santa Claus Village, there was a tourist service center, right across from Santa’s office, very conspicuous. On the snow, over a hundred people were lined up, waiting to get their certificates.

Wang Bo waved to call over Zhuang Ding and Queen. Dale happily crawled into her pumpkin carriage and said, “Teacher is really thoughtful—no wonder my sister is so fond of you.”

Wang Bo chuckled, saying nothing. He untied the leashes from Zhuang Ding and Queen, then picked up Zhuang Ding himself and handed Queen to Eva. “Holding them will keep you warm,” he said.

So inside the pumpkin carriage, Dale rubbed her hands to keep warm, while outside, the two adults each held a fluffy dog—like holding a small, warm stove.

People in line kept glancing at the three of them, and some even went up to take photos with Dale’s pumpkin carriage.

Dale was happy to share her joy with others. She insisted on taking photos, but they had to be complete—with the dogs pulling the sleigh.

Wang Bo and Eva had no choice but to let go of the dogs. Wang Bo sighed: “She’s growing up, this little rascal.”

Eva felt a little sad at the comment. She gestured, “When I first met her, she was this small, like a little puppy in my arms… and now she’s becoming independent.”

Wang Bo smiled. “Impossible. She still has ten years before she can truly be independent. We still have plenty of time together.”

Eva looked wistfully at the giggling little girl. “But one day, we’ll have to part. She’ll, like me, find a man who loves her wholeheartedly.”

For the first time, Wang Bo saw a lonely, sorrowful expression on Eva’s face, and he felt truly concerned.

So he boldly hugged her and said, “Then let’s have a baby—or a bunch of babies—so you’ll have lots of little Dale(s).”

Hearing this, Eva’s previously sorrowful face instantly lit up with excitement. “Yes! Let’s start preparing for a baby as soon as we get back!”

Wang Bo: “…”

The tourist service center was a wooden cabin. Inside, there were machines for printing digital photos and developing film. One photo was free; more would cost extra.

Because of the scenic location, printing photos here was expensive—ten euros per photo. Wang Bo didn’t care and printed over ten.

As hoped, they received their Arctic certificates—a small, formal booklet, a bit like a passport, with a bright red stamp on the back.

With the Arctic certificates in hand, the main event awaited: finding Santa Claus.

Santa’s office was a small house built from stone and wood, with a thick layer of snow on the roof, but warm-toned lights inside. After being in the icy outdoors for so long, Wang Bo felt an indescribable warmth upon seeing it.

There were too many tourists, so Santa couldn’t meet everyone. Wang Bo felt a bit regretful, but families with children had priority. Learning this, they patiently waited.

The village had more than one Santa; there were many offices inside, each with a Santa attending to visitors.

Wang Bo, unfamiliar with some Western festivals and customs, asked curiously, “Do Santa Claus figures actually work? Isn’t taking photos with tourists enough?”

A chubby white man next to him shook his head. “Of course not. They’re very busy. See that little house over there? That’s the Santa Post Office. Every year, countless letters are sent from around the world, and Santa has to reply to them.”

Wang Bo nodded, impressed. “That sounds like a lot of work, buddy.”

Since the wait was long, Eva drew a number, and Wang Bo decided to take them to the post office first.

Compared to the large Santa offices, the post office was a small wooden cabin with a beautiful wooden sign above the door: Santa Claus Post Office, featuring a cartoon reindeer carrying a mailbag.

Volunteers provided service here, acting like guides and explaining the village’s buildings to tourists.

As the three of them approached the post office, a girl dressed as a little elf came forward. She greeted them with “Merry Christmas” and curiously examined Zhuang Ding and Queen. “Are these big dogs your pets?”

Dale proudly held Zhuang Ding’s head with one hand and Queen with the other. “They’re not pets—they’re my good friends and my sister’s good kids. Right, sister?”

Not only did Dale look at Eva, but Zhuang Ding also gazed at her.

Eva couldn’t help but kiss both dogs warmly and laughed. “They’re the best, most obedient children.”

Zhuang Ding wagged his tail happily and barked twice, as if in agreement.

The volunteer became even happier and asked, “Did you just arrive? Have you sent a Christmas card or gift yet?”

Needless to say, the girl was eager to impress Zhuang Ding and Queen, proving once again that having a dog around could always help.

Wang Bo agreed happily, and the girl introduced the post office:

“The Santa Claus Post Office receives hundreds of thousands of letters each year. This December alone, we’ve already received 180,000 letters from children all over the world.”

“But as you know, our manpower is limited. Staff can only reply to 260,000 of these letters. To handle this heavy workload, the post office hires nearly a hundred employees and equips nearly a hundred computers. Quite a large scale, isn’t it?”

Wang Bo was amazed. Indeed, 260,000 letters a year—over 20,000 per month—means about 700 letters a day, year-round!

Following the volunteer into the post office, Wang Bo saw several strong staff members moving mailbags through a side door.

“These are sorted mailbags,” the girl explained, “which will be sent to the city and then delivered worldwide.”

Inside the main hall, the floor was covered with mailbags—some flat envelopes, others large boxes.

“Is this where children from all over the world place their hopes and dreams?” Eva asked curiously.

The girl nodded. “Yes. Children from any country can write to the local Santa Claus here, confiding their wishes, asking for gifts, and so on.”

Wang Bo asked, “Do you actually send the gifts?”

The girl smiled. “We try to fulfill reasonable requests. Gifts that can be sent, we send—like a photo of Santa or a small toy. But if the request is excessive, we simply can’t fulfill it.”