I have never seen my mother; in my memory, she is a complete blank. Although this blank has not prevented me from growing into a robust man, it is somewhat regrettable. When I was very young, I once asked my father about my mother. He said she was dead, which was his entire verdict on her, and every subsequent answer was merely a repetition of this verdict. Yet, his words did not quench my curiosity about my mother. No matter how resolutely she left us, it could not stop me from missing her. After all, I was born.
For over a decade, I have been imagining and sketching my mother in my mind, picturing her with the same stubbornness as me, yet with many differences. As I grew older, the image of my mother in my mind became increasingly clear, to the point where I now often inexplicably ask myself whether my mother exists in my memory or in my imagination. Or rather, I have begun to doubt the fact that my mother is dead. This is truly hopeless!
In my impression, my mother was a mature woman in her thirties, with a plump and radiant figure, a fair and dignified face with a gentle expression, also concealing a noble and aloof temperament, easily reminiscent of a ripe golden pear on a green tree in autumn.
Finally, one day I saw her. It was during a struggle session when someone shouted, 'Bring up the landlord's wife, Jia Meirong.' I heard someone loudly curse, 'You bitch, see how beautiful you are now?'
But obviously, I was late. The struggle session had already begun, with waves of green sound mingling with the screams of loudspeakers, clusters of small mushrooms standing robustly from the forest, unceasing for a long time.
My heart was agitated, but I was blocked outside this green barrier, unable to see anything. I was anxious and also terrified, thinking, at this moment, I cannot fall behind. As a Red Guard of Chairman Mao, how can I lack revolutionary enthusiasm? I struggled to push forward, squeezing sideways, stretching my neck, my face flushed. Finally, I managed to squeeze in. The criticism in the meeting was reaching its climax.
On a temporary wooden platform, a majestic young man in a crisp military uniform waved his arms and shouted, 'Who will criticize this landlord's wife? He will be today's hero.'
'Let her son criticize her!' someone shouted. 'She abandoned her proletarian husband and son to become a landlord's wife. Let her son criticize her.'
At that moment, many people were looking at me. I patted the dust off my clothes, stood up timidly, and looked at the suddenly quiet venue, not knowing what to do. I thought about retreating back into the crowd, but Weiwu Qingnian had already noticed me and pointed at me, shouting, 'You, come up here.' I had no choice but to brace myself and walk up to the high platform.
Weiwu Qingnian took my hand and said, 'You must draw a clear line. You are very brave. Please tell everyone loudly whether you hate your mother or not.' Then, he handed me the red microphone.
I felt my legs trembling. I had never participated in such a large meeting before, let alone stood on the podium. I clenched my palms, recalling a scene from a movie, and said, 'Comrades! I am Ye Yong from No. 2 Middle School. I hate this landlord's wife. She is not my mother. I will fuck her!'
I heard applause coming from the northeast corner, probably from my classmates at No. 2 Middle School. Then, the entire venue erupted in applause. Weiwu Qingnian waved his hand and said, 'Comrades! Revolution is not about dining and wining; it's about bloodshed and sacrifice. To defend our great leader Chairman Mao, we need thousands of brave warriors like Ye Yong, who stand firm and charge forward. Ye Yong is a little hero of our Red Headquarters.' After saying this, he forcefully swung his right arm outward, and the audience immediately responded with thunderous applause and cheers: 'Learn from the little hero, down with feudalism, capitalism, and revisionism! Fuck the landlord's wife!'
I was moved and exhilarated by the scene, and I also raised my arm to join in.
At that moment, I suddenly heard a sharp shout: 'Ye Yong, take action!'
I was stunned. 'What action should I take?' I looked at this strange woman who was tied up. Was she really my mother?
Weiwu Qingnian patted me on the shoulder and said, 'The moment to test you has come. Go forward and strip her clothes off, let everyone see the true nature of this vile woman.'
The woman in front of me had her hands tied behind her back and was kneeling on the platform. Her disheveled hair covered her face, making it impossible to see her features. I wondered, could she really be my mother? I circled around her twice, rubbing my hands, unsure of what to do. I felt both hesitant and scared; this was something I had never done before.
At that moment, Lüse Senlin roared: 'Ye Yong, don’t hesitate, Ye Yong... Weiwu Qingnian reminded me, haven’t you drunk your mother’s milk?'
I said, 'She ran away as soon as I was born, but I want to say, this is different from the current situation. In my heart, my mother is sacred, no one in the world can compare except Chairman Mao. But the woman in front of me is the object of criticism, an enemy, how can they be mentioned in the same breath?' The imposing young man actually had no stance. I was somewhat proud of this, feeling that my awareness was even higher than that of the imposing young man in his crisp military uniform! But since he gave the order, it should be obeyed.
I squatted down, carefully unbuttoning the woman's blouse one by one, then pushed the clothes back to her wrists, as if performing a sacred ritual. I don't know why I was so careful, as if doing something noble. Yes, having the opportunity to do something for the organization and Chairman Mao is very honorable. But does this carefulness itself imply respect for the enemy? This is almost a mistake in stance.
So I roughly pulled up the woman's vest, and due to the excessive force, the front was torn off in one go. Then, I saw the woman's two breasts suddenly bounce out, like two bulging cow's eyes, staring blankly at me. I reached out to pinch these strange cow's eyes, feeling very comfortable, as if suddenly finding a long-lost old item.
I couldn't help but bring my mouth close, licked with the tip of my tongue, then took a hard suck. The throat was empty, no milk, this was the biggest difference from childhood thoughts. But, there seemed to be a wisp of fragrance attracting me, faint, making me unwilling to loosen my lips. My head was a bit dizzy, I felt as if I was being pulled by something, sliding downward, straight into the pitch-black night, then slowly rising again, towards the blinding white light. In my ears were the green forest waves and the sound of the wind, I was gliding freely, not knowing where I was, what I was doing. Perhaps, nothing was important.
I was honored to be received by the Commander of the Red General Station. The commander said, 'We've studied and decided to let you be responsible for supervising and guarding that stinking woman Jia Meirong. Can you complete the task?'
'Yes!' I clicked my heels together and excitedly saluted.
My maternal grandfather was likely a merchant who made some money during turbulent times. Though not exceedingly wealthy, he chose not to return to the countryside, instead taking a concubine and buying this courtyard house to live in. The house had stood for an unknown number of years before his arrival. It's easy to imagine my mother growing up slowly within these walls, followed by my grandfather's arrest and disappearance without a trace, then her meeting my father, and subsequently my birth and her departure. My father and I were left to depend on each other in this house until his illness took him away.
From a young age, I loved to fantasize about being cradled in my mother's arms, drifting in her soft embrace. Her breasts were firm and warm, with nipples of a beautiful purple hue, where my fingers often played, marking the earliest joys of my childhood memories. This joy lasted until I was fifteen, meaning that before sixteen, I had not experienced the pleasures other children had known for years.
By then, my fingers had grown long enough to effortlessly grasp a woman's entire breast. Although lifting me had become a strain for anyone, I still fantasized about her cradling me. Whenever she held me, I would excitedly reach out to grab her breasts, sometimes seemingly causing her pain, which brought a slight tremble to her body and a faint blush to her cheeks. At that moment, I had finally captured her breast, albeit in such a place.
In October 1966, at sixteen, I was entrusted with the significant responsibility of guarding Jia Meirong at the Red Station, leading the school to grant me early graduation a year ahead. Being allowed to graduate early due to undertaking a great political task bestowed upon me supreme glory; more importantly, it meant I no longer had to attend school, thus becoming a Red Guard in the truest sense.
Leaving school, I threw my backpack high into the sky and then ran across the streets, not even bothering to go home, straight to my house where I saw my mother, Jia Meirong, now my prisoner. At that moment, my mother was sitting on a chair with her hands tied behind her back, glaring at me furiously. She gasped at me, out of breath, and said, 'You rascal, I could eat you alive.'
I shouted loudly, 'No nonsense! Revolution is not a dinner party!'
I was quite pleased with my ability to learn and apply on the spot, feeling that I had already possessed the qualities of a revolutionary. But what should I do next? I stood there pondering for a long time, then suddenly had a brainwave and ran out excitedly with my hands raised high.
I was swamped the entire afternoon. I found a large roll of big-character posters and covered all the walls of two rooms with them. Right in the center of the wall facing my mother, I pasted a portrait of Chairman Mao, beneath which was a line of crooked, large characters I had written myself: 'Keep an eye on Jia Meirong, defend Chairman Mao.'
By the time all this was done, it was already very dark. Standing in a corner admiring my masterpiece, I suddenly felt ravenous. I thought, even revolutionaries need to eat. Isn't it said that man is iron, food is steel? I walked out of the room, glancing back uneasily at Jia Meirong. Meanwhile, my mother was looking at me with a smile.
Night fell. That night, I was finished. Sooner or later, I would be the ruin of myself.
It was midnight again. Darkness is the garment of sin.
I lay in bed, mustering courage. I hugged the pillow tightly, as if embracing her slender waist. Until fantasies unfolded in my mind like dark clouds. I hesitated no longer. I stepped forward, grabbed the front of her cheongsam, and tore it open effortlessly to one side, freeing her hands cuffed in front of her, then twisted her arms behind her back. I pressed her down to kneel on the floor in front of the chair, kicked off her cloth shoes. In the blink of an eye, her clothes along with her undergarments were all torn off from behind and thrown into the corner of the room.
I re-cuffed her wrists behind her back with a click. Moving to her front, I squatted down, tied her ankles to the two front legs of the chair with discarded wires, and pulled off her still-worn white cloth socks. With a folding knife, I slit the only remaining piece of her underwear, pulling the torn fabric out from under her buttocks.
My mother cried out in panic, 'You little beast, what are you doing?'
Suddenly, I felt a pang of compassion. After all, she was my mother, no matter how much she had wronged me and Chairman Mao. So I gave her a cup of water I had already laced with sleeping pills. Exhausted from the day and shocked, she finally fell asleep! I carried her naked to the bed. Gazing at my mother, deeply asleep on the bed, the incestuous impulses hidden deep in my blood became active again, and my courage grew...
Looking at her peaceful sleeping face, I sincerely thought she resembled a goddess... And now, I was about to use my own body, the life that had been nurtured in her womb eighteen years ago, to possess and violate her...
After removing all my clothes, I crouched by my mother's bedside, gently stroking her disheveled hair. Gazing at her lightly closed eyes and small lips, I couldn't resist bringing my mouth closer... (I kissed her... I kissed her...) I screamed wildly in my heart.
My mother's soft lips gave me an unprecedented impact... Like a greedy bee, I incessantly sucked on her lips... As I sucked, I sniffed the faint, fresh scent of yogurt from her mouth, while my tongue persistently tried to pry open her tightly closed teeth. The impending freedom to do as I pleased gave me even greater pleasure...
Finally, I managed to push open my mother's tightly clenched teeth. My tongue passed through her pearly whites to touch her even softer tongue. My mouth greedily absorbed the faint fragrance from her mouth, while my hands began to wander restlessly over her body...
I mischievously licked with my tongue, then lifted my head to look at my mother. Finding her still sound asleep, I grew bolder, taking her entire nipple into my mouth to suck... My hands were not idle either, vigorously kneading...
Gradually, my mother's nipple awoke, standing erect on the areola. Sucking on her hardened nipple, I became even more excited and greedy, continuously licking back and forth with the tip of my tongue, while also enjoying the waves of sensation transmitted from her breasts as they were kneaded by my hands...
At this moment, I was truly at the peak of excitement... Finally unable to restrain myself, I climbed onto my mother's bed, removed her only socks, and my hand began to wander towards her firm and full mons...