【Let's row our oars】(02)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Author: fkmomo 　　Published 　　on the forum 　　on

December 4 , 　　2015

********** 　　... I don't know what happened . I felt like I'd been thrown into the vast universe, with nothing, not even breath, just drifting aimlessly until the end of my life… or perhaps the beginning of another. 　　I don't know how much time passed, but I could hear some buzzing, indistinct sounds. I felt like I was filled with a jar of unfathomable, boundless water—terrifying. But there was a small consolation: I could prove I was still alive because I could hear things. Then, I don't know how much time passed again. The outside world within me became turbulent and noisy . I was terrified, not knowing what the future held, yet powerless to change it. 　　When I regained consciousness, I could feel a crack above my head, opening and closing rapidly. For a fleeting moment, I could clearly hear sounds that were distinct before fading back into indistinctness . Suddenly, something grabbed me, tearing and deforming me, as if something had reached through a crack in the top of my head and forcibly pulled me away. I suddenly felt a chill, followed by a cacophony of sounds: cries, hurried footsteps , and the beeping of various instruments. I was terrified. I didn't know what was happening because I couldn't see or hear clearly. I was so frightened that I burst into tears. In the dim light, I seemed to see something else. It was a chair similar to one in an old-fashioned barbershop, with a woman lying on it Her upper body was covered by a white cloth, but her lower body was exposed. Her two long, white legs were spread apart, and her slender, round, and beautiful calves were supported by cushions extending from the sides of the chair. Her calves looked strong and thick from the compression, while her thighs were very white and firm. The center of her legs was a bloody mess, and the pubic hair on her mons pubis was faintly visible as golden . I was attracted to the long legs of this sexy woman who was moving further and further away from me, and then I was terrified by her bloody and mangled lower body and burst into tears again. 　　When I saw this world again, it was completely different. I didn't know where I was. I felt so small, lying in the arms of a beautiful, haggard, blonde woman, as tall as a mountain. Beside me was a down-on-his-luck Chinese man, grinning at me with the same look. 　　Suddenly, I understood. I wasn't imprisoned, I hadn't time-traveled, I hadn't arrived in a parallel world—nothing could be explained by any of my theoretical physics knowledge! I had been reincarnated! 　　Who am I? Where am I? What time is it? I kept asking myself these three ultimate questions. My mind raced, gathering every clue from everything I saw, heard, and felt to answer them. Hanging from the ceiling were light bulbs resembling incandescent bulbs, each with an old-fashioned enamel lampshade . I looked around; the walls were white and mottled. This must be a hospital. The doors and windows of the rooms were made of wood, painted a light blue. There was an iron-framed bed, and white cotton quilts that smelled of disinfectant, with the words "Bincheng People's Hospital" printed on them. I could vaguely hear the loudspeaker broadcasting outside the window. I was certain, at least, that I had returned to the past, and that I was in China. 　　"Look, this little guy is looking around like he knows everything," a grinning Chinese man next to the towering, blond- haired, blue-eyed man teased me with his dirty hands. I thought to myself, "Of course, I know everything, damn it." These two must be my "father" and "mother," 　　right? My mother was beautiful, a tall, sexy blonde woman, while my father looked somewhat bitter and worn out, lacking energy and spirit, as if he was under a lot of pressure or in poor health. 　　Even if I crawled out of this blonde, blue-eyed beauty's cunt, I don't accept them as my parents. I have all my memories from before, and I know very well I'm not a new member of this family. So, seeing these two, my first thought was that they were mismatched. I thought, "This poor man having such a beautiful foreign wife isn't necessarily a good thing. Not only could he serve her, but he'd also easily be cuckolded." 　　Of course, since they are my parents, and since I'm starting my new life here, I want to know their story. I really want to know how I came to be and how they came together. 　　Then, I saw a very old, digital perpetual calendar on the wall—the kind I'd only ever seen The date on it was 1999, exactly 316 years ago in my time! 　　Oh well, I guess I'll just have to accept it. 　　Let me use the first few years of my new life to give a brief self-introduction and a detailed introduction to my family. The new me, the me now, was born in the spring of 1999. Shortly after my birth, NATO held a ceremony in Missouri, USA, to formally admit Poland, the Czech Republic, and Hungary as new members. 　　My father, Jiang Tiezhu, was an ordinary stevedore. He said I was the fruit of their love, so he named me Jiang Shuang (meaning "double"). My mother, Sharapova, gave birth to me when she was 20 years old. 　　At this moment, I'm confused about this world. It's not China in 2315, much less the China of 1999 depicted in textbooks, documents , and movies. If we go back another 60 years, it might be more in line with the current situation, but it's not entirely the same. In this world, my motherland is called the Celestial Empire of China, with a president as the highest leader , but it's a highly centralized country. A very small number of powerful families hold high positions, and the vast majority...

Most people at the grassroots level live equal and stable lives. Compared to the China I experienced before my time travel or reincarnation,
the architecture here is very similar to China in the 1950s—highly uniform, lacking individuality, and primarily focused on practicality. People's
clothing is said to be uniformly supplied; men wear black, Zhongshan-style suits, while women's attire is more
interesting—close-fitting dresses resembling cheongsams. In summer, the high slits reveal women's thighs of
varying , and even in winter, they only wear tight-fitting leggings, still exposing their leg shapes
. Because it's a cheongsam-style dress, and the fabric is more form-fitting and drapey, the women's figures are
fully . However, the women's heads are covered by a cloth similar to a veil worn in ancient weddings. This is a
country that appears backward in some aspects but highly developed in others. The clothing fabric, as mentioned, is form-fitting, drapey
, and has strong temperature-regulating properties. In the cold north, except for the coldest times when women need to wear
tight-fitting leggings to protect their legs, they can wear the same outfit almost year-round. This so-called veil was even
more magical. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary piece of cloth, completely obscuring a woman's face. But from the inside
, it was completely transparent, even more transparent than plastic sheeting, not obstructing vision at all.

Of course, all of this was irrelevant. What everyone was really concerned about was my mother. My mother's name was
Sharapova, born in the Soviet Union in 1979. Yes, she was a tennis prodigy, and as
beautiful as the real-life tennis star Sharapova: blonde, blue-eyed, 1.88 meters tall, with a sexy and
athletic body, high breasts, a round bottom, and two long, strong, beautiful legs. But there were some
differences. Looking at my mother's upbringing, I understood a little. Perhaps it was
that that caused a small reaction in the collision of time. This subtle, almost negligible reaction then
spread out ripples, and these ripples, more or less, either insignificant or causing a butterfly effect,
changed the past world. Of course, I couldn't explain why I was reincarnated in the past and
born to Sharapova. Let's return to my mother, Maria Sharapova. Why do I say her development might be related to
that ? Because, aside from Sharapova's birth date being eight years earlier than in reality,
everything from birth to childhood was the same. She showed tennis talent at a very young age, was spotted by an American coach at six, and at eight, she
was taken to America for more systematic training. Then…

because of a tiny atom causing a misalignment, in reality she was born in 1987, so being eight
would be 1995, perfectly fine. But that wretched atom that traveled back in time caused my mother
, Sharapova, to be born in 1979. Her coach secretly took her to America during
the final stages of the Cold War between the two countries, and, moreover, her coach was indeed a spy. As a result, Sharapova was taken back to the Soviet Union by a spy
and, along with her parents, exiled to Siberia for espionage.

After I became old enough to understand, my mother told me about her tragic childhood and why she came to China. Although it
was a painful memory for her, as her son, my mother, Maria Sharapova, felt it was her responsibility and obligation to let me
know about my mother's and my maternal grandparents' past.

Before telling this story, I want to clarify one point: this is absolutely not a science fiction story.

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【Let's row our oars】(02)

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