Southeast Asia Information Port News (www.dnyxxg.com) On the morning of February 16th, the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, the G3594 train from Nanning East to Mianyang slowly pulled out of the station. Inside the carriages, the festive atmosphere grew stronger, with people returning home carrying large and small bags, their faces filled with anticipation. Wang Lingyun, a train police officer from the Sixth Detachment of the Nanning Railway Public Security Bureau's Train Police Branch, straightened his uniform and began his New Year's Eve duty.
The train traveled through the mountains and rivers of Guizhou and Guangxi, heading towards northern Sichuan. As a native of Bijie, Guizhou, Wang Lingyun was intimately familiar with the towering mountains along the route.
Shortly after the train left Nanning East Station, an elderly man standing anxiously in the aisle, clutching his ticket, caught his attention. The old man was illiterate, unable to find a seat, and worried about missing his stop. Wang Lingyun quickly went forward, helped the old man to a seat, and slowly read the arrival time to him repeatedly. For the next three hours, he checked on the old man every half hour, asking if he needed hot water. When the train smoothly pulled into Zunyi Station, he gently touched the old man's arm: "Grandpa, we've arrived in Zunyi." The old man got up, walked to the train door, turned back and gave him a deep look, his eyes full of gratitude.
The Spring Festival travel rush trains were packed with people returning home, and in the surging crowds, some bumps and bruises were inevitable. But on this Guiyang-Nanning high-speed railway, which passed through his hometown, Wang Lingyun's familiar accent became the bond that resolved the conflict.
A few days earlier, during a journey, an argument suddenly broke out in carriage number 8. A passenger was on the phone, his voice louder than the rest of the carriage. After several attempts to calm him down failed, the passenger behind him kicked the back of his seat in frustration. When Wang Lingyun arrived, the two were arguing fiercely. He didn't rush to ask what was going on; he first persuaded the passenger behind him to move aside, letting the train conductor calm them down, while he turned to the passenger on the phone.
The passenger, speaking Mandarin with a Guizhou accent, poured out his frustration—he'd been in a car accident before the Lunar New Year, and they couldn't reach an agreement on compensation. The person on the other end of the phone was pressuring him, and he was feeling very anxious. After listening, Wang Lingyun switched to Bijie dialect. The passenger paused, looked up, and his voice softened. The two chatted in their hometown dialect for over ten minutes, and the passenger's emotions gradually calmed down. With Wang Lingyun's mediation, the two passengers finally shook hands and made peace.
"I recognized his accent as soon as he spoke," Wang Lingyun said. "When you speak Mandarin, you're a policeman and he's a passenger; when you speak your hometown dialect, you're a fellow villager and he's family." The change of accent shortened the distance between hearts.
As the train continued its journey through the mountains, Wang Lingyun, in his familiar hometown accent, transformed safety reminders into casual conversation throughout the journey. A migrant worker returning home heard the familiar Bijie accent and specially handed him a bag of Guizhou potato chips: "Officer, I can't go home for the New Year, please try this taste of home." The small bag of potato chips warmed Wang Lingyun's heart. "Seeing you all home safely makes me feel like I've gone home myself," he said.
The night was deep, and the train arrived at Mianyang Station. Wang Lingyun stood at the train door, watching the last passenger leave. His hometown flashed past the train window. But he knew that every passenger he had helped arrive home safely had already returned home on his behalf. And he, on this railway line that runs through his hometown, with each shift, was protecting the journey home for many more. (End)
