Mother became pregnant after being gang-raped by migrant workers. Author: lamour [Full Text]

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

My experience began in the summer of 2003. I had just finished my college entrance exams. My mother was a construction supervisor, and one of her projects required her to live on the construction site. Originally, she was supposed to live with another woman, but that woman had to go home for a few days. My mother was worried about her safety, so she asked me to live with her. Actually, I was quite willing to go, because by then I had already developed an attraction to mature women, especially a bit of a mother complex. Although the construction site was tough, I could see my mother dressed very lightly every day in the summer. My mother was 42 years old then, 163cm tall, and weighed over 130 pounds. She looked fair-skinned and round, especially her breasts and buttocks, which haven't changed much to this day. It

was almost evening when we arrived at the construction site. The site was in the suburbs, and we lived in a two-story blue prefabricated house. Those who have experience working in the field might remember it—very simple, with few facilities. There were many mosquitoes in the suburbs. After dinner, my mother and I went to sleep.

But the mosquitoes kept me awake.

Around midnight, as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard my mom getting up, probably because she'd drunk too much water in the heat and needed to relieve herself. I pretended to be asleep and listened as she got out of bed, put on her slippers, grabbed some toilet paper. There was a chamber pot in the corner, and I was thinking of peeking at her bottom when she went there to pee

, but she didn't go to the corner. Instead, she put on a coat, opened the door, and went out. I guess she knew I wasn't asleep. I heard her close the door, so I got out of bed and listened as she went downstairs. I crouched down and went to the door, peeking out through the glass. Not far from our prefab house were huge mounds of construction waste, stretching for over ten meters and two or three meters high. The moon was quite bright that day, so it wasn't too dark outside. I remember seeing my mom wearing a thin coat over a vest, and printed capri pants. She walked to a relatively secluded spot next to the mound. I looked around, then hid in the shadow of the mound of dirt, pulled down my pants, and squatted down, half of my buttocks suddenly exposed, white and shiny. My heart skipped a beat, and my face flushed. I stared at that white buttocks, my urine flowing everywhere. After about half a minute, my mother wiggled her buttocks and then used toilet paper to wipe herself. I knew she had peed. I was about to quickly retreat back to bed so she wouldn't notice when I suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure tiptoeing up behind my mother. I was about to warn her, but then I realized she would notice me peeping. I hesitated, and my mother had already stood up and pulled up her pants. I quickly ducked my head under the glass door, but then I wasn't sure, so I looked out again. What I saw was that the figure was already rolling around on the floor with my mother.

By now, being closer, I could see things more clearly: my mother was lying face down on the ground, struggling to get up, but the man was clearly taller and stronger than her. Although lean, he had a good amount of muscle, and his sweat glistened in the moonlight. He had already pinned my mother's hands together and was using his other hand to pull down her pants. As he pulled, he lowered his head and said something to my mother, probably trying to scare her into silence. My mother was very timid and had previously been so frightened by mice that she couldn't scream. My mother twisted her legs and waist to stop him from taking them off, but he pulled hard twice, tearing the elastic waistband of her pants, and then pulled them down to her buttocks, exposing her bare bottom. Then he poked around the area where my mother's buttocks met his genitals a few times. My mother struggled even more, but then he thrust forward, and my mother stopped moving. He pulled his hand out and released my mother's hand with his other hand. Although he let go, my mother lay there, motionless, without any resistance.

The man rode on my mother's buttocks, moving back and forth, her flesh jiggling with each thrust. As he moved, he lifted my mother's vest, pulling it up to her armpits, probably trying to take it off. But my mother's arms wouldn't move. After several unsuccessful attempts, he reached his hand from behind to my mother's chest and touched her breasts. Looking down from above, I could only see a small part of her. Perhaps the stimulation from my mother's breasts was too much for him; he grabbed her breasts while moving noticeably faster, thrusting wildly against her like he'd been electrocuted. After a while, he thrust forward, froze, his buttocks twitching, and then he went limp, collapsing onto my mother.

I retreated to the glass door, and suddenly felt a throbbing pain down there. I realized I was incredibly hard, and my underwear was pressing uncomfortably against it. Without thinking, I pulled out my penis and started masturbating. The feeling was more intense than any female celebrity I'd ever fantasized about during masturbation. Looking back, I think that from that moment on, my initial Oedipus complex had transformed into a cuckoldry. This intense feeling made me ejaculate very quickly; it was probably the fastest I've ever masturbated, maybe less than a minute or two.

After ejaculating, I became somewhat more sober and wanted to check on my mother. Just as I was about to stick my head out, I heard someone yell outside, "Who's there! What are you doing!" I jumped in fright, and then I saw flashlight beams outside. There were about two or three beams, swaying violently, heading this way. I didn't dare peek through the glass door, so I pulled back the curtain a crack and saw three figures walking quickly towards us, seemingly carrying something. They were shouting, "Don't move! Don't move!" After a few steps, they reached the base of the prefab house, blocked by the stairs. Then I heard someone yell, "What are you doing? Tell me!" A moment later, someone else yelled, "I'm asking you, tell me!" At this point, I realized that the night patrol had probably noticed the commotion and thought it was a thief. I hesitated for a moment, then risked sticking my head out through the glass door so it wouldn't be blocked by the stairs.

The three flashlights shone on my mother and the other person lying on the ground near the mound of earth. My mother had managed to get up by then, but she couldn't stand. She was slumped on the ground, one hand supporting her weight, her face turned to the side, her body trembling. I couldn't tell if she was crying or scared. Her lower body and thighs, where her pants had been torn off, were naked. They were stark white in the flashlight beam.

The man who had been on top of her was kneeling on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly to the three men with the flashlight. I could now make out he was quite old, over forty, not short, but dark-skinned and thin, completely naked. He looked like an old migrant worker I'd seen at the construction site that evening. He was kowtowing and muttering something, but I couldn't understand him. Suddenly, a man with a flashlight shouted, "Get up! Go to security!" Upon hearing this, the man kowtowed even faster, clearly in a hurry, his face looking like he was about to cry. Suddenly, he straightened up, pointed at my mother, said something, and then bent down again to kowtow frantically, occasionally straightening up and pointing at my mother. I couldn't understand what he was saying. My mother seemed a little bewildered, struggling to sit up and shaking her head at the men, her face somewhat flustered, her face covered in dirt, and her hair disheveled.

But one of the men with the flashlight turned and said a few words to the other two. The two men exchanged glances, seemingly discussing something. I thought they were going to let the man go, but what happened next was something I hadn't expected. The three men turned off their flashlights and walked towards my mother. The man also got up from the ground. Because the flashlight beam was off, I couldn't see my mother's expression; I could only see her body struggling to get up. But the three men quickly grabbed her and pinned her down, ignoring her kicks and struggles. Two of them grabbed one of her legs each, while the other and the old migrant worker grabbed her arms, lifting her off the ground. The migrant worker also seemed to cover her mouth. My mother was dragged along the construction site like a sow, her body still twisting, but it was too late.

I tensed up again, wondering what they were going to do. I watched them walk away, wanting to follow them out to see what was going on, but I was afraid they would hear me opening the door. After a while, I estimated they were about twenty meters away and couldn't hear me anymore, so I went back inside, put on my shorts and shoes, carefully pushed open the door of the prefab house, and quietly walked down the stairs, trying not to make a sound. When I got down to the ground and walked to the corner of the prefab house, I peeked out and looked towards the construction site. I saw that they had already gone far away. I could only see a few small figures heading towards one of the buildings on the construction site that was not under construction. That building had actually been topped out, but the exterior walls and interior had not yet been insulated and waterproofed.

When I saw them during the day, the bricks were still exposed. They were almost downstairs. I crouched low, afraid they would spot me, until I saw them enter the building. Then I continued to crouch low, tiptoeing towards the building, trying to avoid the mounds of dirt and sand as much as possible to avoid being discovered. I was drenched in sweat after walking less than a hundred meters. When I reached the building entrance, I listened carefully but heard nothing. I wondered if I was seeing things. After climbing two floors, I heard faint sounds from upstairs, which reassured me a little. So I continued to tiptoe upstairs. The higher I went, the louder the sounds became. Of course, "louder" was relative to the absence of sound, but it was still not easy to hear unless you listened carefully. When I reached the fourth floor, the sounds became clearer. I could tell people were talking and groaning, but I still couldn't make out what they were saying. However, I was certain it was this floor, as if it was on the right-hand side of the stairs. I crept inwards following the sound, my heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I could feel myself trembling; my legs were practically giving way. By the time I reached the fourth room on the right, I could clearly hear a man's heavy breathing, a woman's moans, whispers, and scattered movements.

The first thing I heard was, "Damn, that feels so fucking good." The building wasn't under construction yet, so the doors and windows weren't installed. I couldn't remember what the project was for, but I think it was probably a commercial area or something similar. This building was likely a shopping mall, so each floor had many rooms, and almost all of them were the same, with doors and windows facing the hallway. I stopped by the window, wanting to peek inside but afraid of being discovered. Then someone said,

"Quick, get up, it's my turn." Then I heard the sound of someone pulling down their pants and then pulling them up. The first voice said, "You go ahead, I'm going to have a smoke, fucking good." There was a hint of lingering pleasure in the voice. Then

came the click of a lighter being flicked. Afraid of being discovered by that person, I quickly and quietly hid in the next room, huddled in a corner. Just as I hid, I saw a wisp of smoke drift from where I had been standing.

The panting and groaning from next door resumed, more like soft sobs than groans.

The truth was clear now: the three night patrolmen and the old migrant worker were gang-raping my mother. I was at a loss. Actually, after following them, I realized I didn't even know why I had followed. Logically, I should have gone to find someone to catch them in the act, but I was afraid that if I did, they might do something to my mother.

Looking back, those were just excuses I made for myself. I came here simply to see my mother being raped, but I refused to admit it at the time.

I huddled in the corner, afraid to move, lest I be discovered. After a while, the man smoking finished and flicked his cigarette butt, the red ember grazing the doorway of the next room. I heard him walk into the next room again, so I tiptoed out, trying to find a good angle to look. But as I moved, my fingers suddenly touched a hole in the wall. I looked down and saw a missing brick in the wall at waist height. I didn't know why. I looked at the opposite wall and saw another hole, also missing a brick. It was probably left in advance, but I still didn't know what it was for. But I knew my chance had come. I crouched down quietly and put my eyes close to the hole in the brick. By the moonlight, I couldn't see the scene inside very clearly, but I could make out the general outline.

My mother was lying naked on several straw mats used to keep the cement floor moist. A young man, probably in his twenties, was pressing down on her white body. Her two plump, white thighs were wrapped around his waist. He was holding my mother's breasts in his hands. Because my mother's breasts were so large, he could only hold the top half, with the bottom half spilling out from the edge of his palm. My mother's head was tilted to one side, her eyes tightly closed, tears streaming down her face, and she was humming softly, whether crying or moaning, it was hard to tell. The young man was kissing my mother's mouth as he fucked her, occasionally licking her earlobe, but no matter how hard he tried, my mother didn't react at all, just passively letting him do as he pleased.

Three people were standing nearby, one of whom was the old migrant worker. Although he was still naked, he had a fawning smile on his face and was saying to the other two, "I told you this woman isn't bad, she's really comfortable." The other two stood aside, ignoring him, their hands behind their backs, whispering amongst themselves. Seeing that the two were ignoring him, the old migrant worker stopped talking and turned his gaze back to my mother, who was being brutally fucked by the young man. After watching for a while, perhaps he was aroused again, at first slightly bending over and panting, but then, disregarding the others present, he shamelessly began masturbating in front of my mother.

The young man was almost there. He was thrusting his hips between my mother's thighs, the slapping sounds of his flesh being louder than the other two men's voices. He was also gripping my mother's breasts tightly. A short while later, he cried out, then thrust forward and collapsed onto my mother, panting heavily, his hands still gripping her breasts. The

two men next to him laughed. One of the older men said, "Little Li, your stamina isn't good. You can't even last as long as your brother Liu." The young man finally managed to get off my mother, panting, and said, "Uncle Han, it's not that I can't, you try. This woman's vagina and breasts are more potent than other women's. You can't do it either. Ask Brother Liu if you don't believe me." The older

man said, "Get up, make room." Then they heard the sound of his belt unzipping. The young man got up from the ground, pulling up his pants as he walked towards the other man standing nearby, without even glancing at the old migrant worker. The older man, short and stout, seemed to be balding. He took off his pants and underwear, then squatted down, patted my mother's buttocks, and said, "Turn over." My mother didn't move. He got a little angry, patted her buttocks again, and said, "Hurry up." My mother remained motionless, lying there. This time he was really angry and was about to explode when the old migrant worker quickly came over with a smile and said, "This woman's been fucked numb, I'll turn her over for you." Saying this, he picked up my mother's upper body and forcefully turned her over. My mother let him turn her over without resisting, and he positioned her face down on the straw mat. The short, stout man waved his hand, telling him to get out of the way, then lay on my mother's back, reached down and scratched his genitals, then thrust forward, letting out a long "Oh..." from deep in his throat. The two people standing next to him seemed to chuckle secretly. The short, fat man lay on my mother's back for a few seconds before slowly beginning to thrust, gripping her shoulders and moving his hips back and forth. The old migrant worker stood to the side, drooling with desire but not daring to say anything. After watching for a while, he started masturbating again.

The short, fat man's movements weren't fast, but within a few minutes, his body tensed up, he pressed his buttocks down, raised his head, and then collapsed onto my mother. The two men next to us laughed. The young man said,

"I told you you couldn't handle it." The short, fat man got off my mother, patted her buttocks, and said, "It really felt good. Don't let her age fool you, it's tight and slippery inside." He picked up his underwear and pants and put them on, asking the other two men as he fastened his belt, "It felt good, now what do we do?" The one who had been smoking earlier said,

"What's the rush? Let's play a little longer." He walked over and beckoned the young man next to him to help lift my mother off the ground, make her sit down, squatted down, pinched her face, and slapped her cheek, saying, "Wake up, hey, wake up.

I'm talking to you." My mother opened her eyes, glanced at them, and then closed them again. The one who was smoking slapped my mother's cheek again and said, "Watch this, I'm telling you."

My mother opened her eyes and said, smoking, "Sister-in-law, look, you've had your fun with us brothers today, so we won't make things too difficult for you. Now there's one last thing: lick our lips, and we'll be fine. If you don't obey, we'll take you away. We won't kill you, we'll just dump you in some village outside. Who you run into there is up to your luck. What do you say?" My mother looked at him, silent for a long time. He couldn't wait any longer and asked, "Hurry up and say something straight." My mother turned her face away, and the man released her face, saying, "I'll give you one more chance. You decide what to do." He stood up, unzipped his pants, took out his penis, and brought it to my mother's face, saying, "Hurry up, we don't have time to wait for you." My mother trembled, and her body finally moved. Although slow, she still reached out and grasped the man's penis, slowly rubbing it. The man grew impatient, grabbed my mother's hair, and shoved his penis into her mouth, saying, "I told you to use your mouth, not your hand." My mother silently opened her mouth and took his penis in. The man took a deep breath, placed his hand on my mother's head, and my mother sucked on his glans.

After a while, he checked his watch, probably thinking it was still early, and his lust flared up again. He said, "No, it's back again."

He pulled his penis out of my mother's mouth, pushed her, and told her to lie down. My mother probably resigned herself to her fate and obediently lay down on the straw mat, on all fours. He pulled down his pants and knelt behind my mother. The two men next to him laughed, "You're really something. Another round." He said, "Of course." Then he patted my mother's buttocks and said, "Bend over." My mother laid her upper body on the ground, leaving only her buttocks facing him. He thrust his penis forward and began to pump. My mother remained still and silent, just like before.

By this time, the moon's angle had changed, and the moonlight was now shining directly on my mother. Her large breasts, like small balls, swayed back and forth as he bumped into them. This scene probably aroused the two men and the old migrant worker nearby. The two men also started panting. I hadn't paid attention to the old migrant worker until now, but when I glanced at him, I saw that he had squatted down and was tilting his head, probably looking at my mother's breasts.

Not long after, the two men couldn't resist any longer. They walked over to my mother, pulled down their pants, and one of them knelt in front of her. He grabbed her hair, pulled her upper body off the ground, and brought his penis to her face. This time, my mother didn't resist.

The other man hesitated for a moment, then squatted down next to my mother and started playing with her breasts. Perhaps I used too much force, and my mother wasn't as numb as before. She probably felt pain, and although she still didn't dare to resist, she was already moaning softly. Then I glanced at the old migrant worker again; he stood up and started masturbating again.

At that moment, I felt a sharp pain in my glans accompanied by an intense pleasure that almost made me cry out. Then came a feeling of exhaustion. I looked down and realized I had ejaculated, making my underwear wet. Perhaps the scene was too stimulating, and I had maintained my squatting position, my glans tightly wrapped in my underwear, constantly being rubbed, so I couldn't help but ejaculate. This was the second time I had ejaculated that night. After ejaculating, I became fully conscious again, just like the first time. But my thoughts were different now than the first time. I peeked through the hole in the brickwork; the group was still going on. I thought for a moment and decided to leave quickly. I was sure they wouldn't hurt my mom, but if they found out I was next door, things would be different. Even if they didn't hurt me, it wouldn't be good for my mom to know I was next door. As for my mom, they'd probably let her go after they finished [the game]. My mom has always been timid and easily frightened; they should have realized that by now and wouldn't think letting her go would cause any trouble. Besides, it gets light early in the summer, and I didn't have a watch, so I didn't know what time it was. It might get light any minute now, so while their attention was still on my mom, it was best to leave quickly.

So I slowly stood up, held onto the wall, and inching my way out of the room. Luckily, I didn't bump into anything. Then I carefully made my way down the stairs until my feet touched the muddy ground. I breathed a sigh of relief and jogged back to our prefab house.

After entering, I drank some water and looked outside. The sky was already starting to turn gray. Looking at the bed, I saw my mother's clothes were still there. I stared blankly for a while, then a wave of weariness washed over me. I realized there was nothing else to do but wait for my mother to return at dawn. So I changed out of my soaked underwear and went to bed.

The next day, however, was completely unexpected. I was woken up by the foreman in a panic. As soon as I opened my eyes, he urged me to get dressed and come with him. I looked around and saw my mother wasn't back. My heart tightened, and I quickly dressed and followed the foreman downstairs, asking what had happened. The foreman only told me to wait a moment. He took me to his beat-up Volkswagen Santana parked downstairs, drove out of the construction site, and onto the main road. Only then did he tell me that my mother had been assaulted. I immediately realized this was a serious matter and asked him where my mother was. The foreman said that when someone went to work that morning, they found my mother lying unconscious in the building, naked and covered in filth.

He deliberately lowered his voice when he mentioned "filthy things," and I realized he was saying my mother was covered in semen.

He went on to say they had called the police, and a police car and ambulance had taken my mother to the hospital. My heart sank. Although I felt my mother would be alright, I hadn't expected them to have abused her so badly. I didn't say anything more on the way. When we arrived at the hospital, I saw a police car parked downstairs. I followed the foreman out of the car and went to the emergency room on the first floor. There were several men who looked like construction workers at the entrance of the emergency room. When they saw the foreman, they came over to talk to him; they were probably from the construction site.

The foreman asked them about the situation, and they told him that the two people who first found my mother had been taken away by the police for questioning. The foreman asked if my mother was alright. Just then, the emergency room door opened, and the foreman went up to ask the doctor how she was. The doctor didn't answer him, only asking if any family members had come. I went over and said I was a family member. The doctor, a woman in her forties, glanced at me and said she was fine, but needed to be hospitalized for observation for a while, and told me to go and complete the formalities. I asked the doctor if I could go in to see my mother. The doctor tilted his head, gesturing for me to come in. I quickly went in. There were three beds in the emergency room. My mother was lying on the one furthest in the room, with an oxygen tube in her nose, resting with her eyes closed. As soon as I approached, I smelled a strong odor of semen. I noticed her hair looked like it had been washed during the emergency, and there was a smell of disinfectant in the emergency room, but the semen smell was still very clear. I went over and gently called out, "Mom." My mother opened her eyes and saw me. She was about to speak when I stopped her, saying, "I know everything, it's alright. I'll get you admitted to the hospital in a bit, you can stay here for a couple of days." My mother nodded. I took her hand and patted it. I saw the doctor had already changed her into a hospital gown. At that moment, my mother closed her eyes again, and tears streamed down her face.

When I was getting my mother admitted, the hospital asked for a deposit. I didn't have a single penny on me. The foreman lent me three thousand yuan first, then moved my mother to a regular ward. Only then did I start calling my parents' workplaces.

Because it was a gynecological injury, it wasn't appropriate for me to stay with her at the hospital, and the doctor also said it wasn't suitable for me. So I called my third aunt to come and stay with her. My aunt came that afternoon, but my dad happened to be out of town, so it took several days for her to arrive. It wasn't until the third day that my dad arrived. Also, I was about to fill out my college applications, so they switched me back.

I need to say that some people say I'm cold-hearted and inhuman. I want to say that I don't regret not taking action. In that situation, if I had acted rashly, I definitely wouldn't have been able to protect myself. Letting them rape me and letting my mother go was the best outcome. As for what happened afterward, it's impossible for anyone to predict the future, and what happened afterward was much better than making them desperate. That's all for now. Let's continue.

A week after I returned home, my mother came back too. Actually, she wasn't seriously injured, just very frightened and had some lacerations. At the hospital, she mainly received IV fluids to prevent infection. After returning home, the doctor prescribed a lot of calming and heart-strengthening medication. My father had other commitments, so he asked me to make sure my mother took her medication on time. I was worried that my mother might not fully recover, but later she seemed alright, and spoke to me normally. She was just afraid to go out, and couldn't watch TV scenes of men and women together. She also developed frequent urination, needing to urinate after every drink of water. While she was at home, my aunt and some of my mother's friends would sometimes come to visit her. A month passed like this, and then my university acceptance letter arrived—a university in Beijing, a bit far from home. Another month passed, and it was time to register, but my mother still didn't dare to go out. My father was also busy out of town, so my aunt accompanied me to register at the university.

I won't go into details about my school days, since everyone knows what they were like, so I'll skip that. I'll just mention one thing: back then, DVD sellers in Beijing weren't practically extinct like they are now. They still existed, but when my roommates went to buy DVDs, I always asked them to bring me some featuring mature women. Mature women were harder to find back then, and nobody watched them. I don't know why I liked mature women, but I just didn't feel anything watching porn with young girls. Looking back, it might have been because I always projected the mature women in those videos onto my mother.

The real trouble started when I went home for my first winter break from university. My dad had said he'd drive to pick me up from the station, but after waiting for ages, no one showed up. I called him, and his voice sounded like he'd been drinking.

So I had to take a taxi home myself. When I got home, I knocked on the door, and my dad opened it. I could smell alcohol on him. After opening the door, he forced a smile, took my things inside, said, "Rest now, we'll have dumplings later," and then went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed.

My mother only came out of the kitchen then. When I saw my mom, I froze. She was wearing a maternity jumpsuit with straps. Her belly was swollen like a drum, and her breasts were bulging like two small balls, spilling out from the sides of the straps. She was even swaying as she walked. It took me a while to come to my senses. I was about to ask my mom what was wrong when

I suddenly realized it must be related to her being cheated on, so I stopped asking and just said a few perfunctory words to her, pretending not to see her belly. Actually, my mom had noticed too, but she pretended not to know. After a while, the dumplings were ready, and we sat at the table, eating and chatting. Neither my mom nor my dad asked me about school, and they didn't say a word about the strange things at home. After dinner, I rushed to wash the dishes, and as I washed them, I felt the atmosphere at home was eerily oppressive. The next day, my

third aunt and eldest aunt invited me to my eldest aunt's house for dinner. My mom and dad didn't go. My mom and eldest aunt are the closest, but my eldest aunt is old, so she couldn't go to stay with my mom at the hospital. After the meal, I lingered, making an excuse not to leave, until all my aunt's children had left. Only then did I cautiously ask my aunt about my mother's pregnancy. My aunt immediately slapped her thigh, shook her head, and sighed, saying, "This is just fate." It turned out that since the accident, my mother hadn't had her period for two months by the time I left. After I left for school, my mother went to the hospital for a checkup. The hospital said it was due to the mental stress combined with a physiological stress response, causing menstrual irregularities, and prescribed some medication for her to take care of herself.

My mother took sick leave from work and rested at home, but after several months of recuperation, her period still didn't return. Every time she went to the hospital, they said it was a normal reaction and told her to take her medication on time. It wasn't until my mother noticed that her stomach and breasts had become noticeably larger that she started to panic. That morning, on her way to the hospital for another checkup, she passed a breakfast stall selling fried dough sticks, and upon smelling the fumes, she couldn't help but vomit in the nearby green belt.

Now my mom was really worried. She went to a maternity hospital and a test showed she was five months pregnant, the fetus was already fully formed. Terrified, my mom's legs went weak, and she couldn't get up from the hospital corridor. A friend saw her and took her home. Because my dad hadn't touched my mom in the past few months, if she was pregnant, it must be one of those people. My mom cried her eyes out, but she didn't dare tell my dad. She planned to have my aunt accompany her to secretly get an abortion.

Unexpectedly, she went to several hospitals, but they all refused to perform the abortion because of her age and the advanced stage of the pregnancy, fearing complications. This scared my mom, and she delayed for over a month, her belly growing bigger and bigger.

Just when she didn't know what to do, the police notified my mom that they had caught the group and asked her to come and identify them. Somehow, my dad found out about this and came back without informing my mom. His intention was probably to beat up those people; he figured that as long as he bribed the detention center, they would usually be lenient as long as the beating wasn't too severe. When my dad came home and saw my mom's belly, he immediately understood what had happened. He was so angry he didn't say a word all day. The next day, he made my mom go for an abortion. When he learned the doctor said it was impossible, he was even angrier and went back to his construction site in Inner Mongolia that very day. My mom had my aunt accompany her to the detention center to identify the people. According to my aunt, my mom was so scared when she saw those people that she kept shrinking back. The court said the case had entered the public prosecution process and was scheduled to go to trial after the New Year. My mom was told to prepare or have a representative.

So, the family didn't have a good New Year. My mom's belly had gone from six months to seven months, and an abortion was out of the question. When my dad was home, he either slept or went out to gamble and drink.

We usually went back to our hometown for the New Year every year, but we didn't go back this year. After the New Year, I couldn't stand staying at home anymore, so I packed my things and went back to school. My parents didn't really stop me.

But I regretted it as soon as I got back to school. Every time I closed my eyes at night, I would think of my mom with her big pregnant belly, and that reminded me of the night she was gang-raped. My penis would swell painfully. It was around this time that I had my first experience with a woman in her forties, about the same age as my mom, just not as voluptuous. We met on QQ and naturally went to a hotel together.

The first time, I ejaculated quickly, and she didn't complain. The second time was a little better. The first night we did it three times, none of the times lasting very long. A month later, we met again. This time, for some reason, no matter what I did, I couldn't ejaculate. Finally, she started begging for mercy, and I was a little worried. Then, I suddenly thought of my mom being gang-raped, and the feeling became incredibly intense. I penetrated her for another three minutes and ejaculated. From then on, I often did this: first, I would fuck her until she was half-dead, then think of my mom being fucked and quickly ejaculate. After ejaculating, I kept joking with her, looking at the semen flowing from her lower body, about asking her to remove her IUD so she could have a child for me. She always laughed and scolded me for being crazy, but actually, I really wanted to see what a middle-aged woman with a big belly looked like, especially since I hadn't seen my mom naked with a big belly at home, which I really regretted.

When I went home for summer vacation again, although I carefully avoided talking about my mom when I called home, I was already mentally prepared.

Sure enough, as soon as I got home, I smelled a strong milky smell. My dad wasn't home, and my mom was wearing a nursing outfit, the kind where you can lift a piece of cloth in the front for easy breastfeeding.

Although her belly had gone down, her breasts were twice as big as when I saw her at the New Year, almost overflowing her chest, the two breasts squeezed together. There used to be a crib in my bedroom, with a healthy-looking baby boy lying in it. I asked my dad, and my mom said that my dad hardly ever comes home anymore. Although he doesn't plan to divorce my mom, he doesn't want to see the child either. As we were talking, the baby woke up, and my mother quickly went over to pick him up. While rocking and soothing him, she lifted her clothes and put a purplish-black nipple into the baby's mouth, and the baby immediately began to suckle greedily. Looking at the way my mother looked at the baby, I saw no humiliation or sadness, but rather a light of love and maternal love shining in her eyes, so I could only sigh inwardly.

After the baby fell asleep again, I cautiously asked my mother about her future plans. She then told me that those men had already been sentenced, the longest being eleven years and the shortest four. Before the baby was born, my parents had already discussed it; after the birth, they would contact the prison to arrange a paternity test. Whoever the father was, that was whoever it was. The day before I returned, my mother had taken the baby for the test, and the results wouldn't be available for a few days. I breathed a sigh of relief; this matter was finally coming to an end.

A few days later, the test results came back: the child belonged to a man from Henan named He Yonggui, in his forties.

At the time, I didn't know who He Yonggui was; later I learned he was the old migrant worker who first raped my mother, and he was sentenced to six years. The prison helped contact his family. He was an old bachelor, living alone with his mother. His other siblings were there, but none of them wanted to come; his mother, however, readily agreed. The prison told them to contact my family directly and then left it at that, because my father didn't want to face the matter anymore, so contacting his family fell to me. We arranged a date for his mother to come from her hometown by train. But right at that crucial moment, my mother's gynecological problem flared up again; she was in so much pain that she couldn't walk and had to be hospitalized. The doctor said she would need about two weeks of rest, and the baby would have to stay with my aunt for the time being. On the third day of my mother's hospitalization, He Yonggui's mother arrived from her hometown in Henan. I went to pick her up at the station. The old lady looked to be in her late sixties, perhaps because her family was poor; she was dressed plainly, and her complexion was sallow, but her clothes were very clean, and she looked quite energetic. Her gray hair was tied back, and she was a thin, wiry old lady. When she got off the train, she was carrying a basket of red eggs and other local specialties, which she wanted to give to my mother. I originally wanted her to leave the things there and then go to my aunt's house to pick up the baby and leave that night, but after learning that my mother was in the hospital, she insisted on going to see her, and I couldn't stop her no matter what I did. When we arrived at the hospital, the old lady saw my mother. By then, my mother had almost fully recovered, her spirits were basically back to what they were before the accident, and because she had just given birth, she was plump and looked quite prosperous and elegant. When the old lady saw my mother, her eyes widened, and she grabbed my mother's hand, saying, "My child, you've suffered so much," even shedding a few tears. My mother, who usually disliked these kinds of rural people, was now so embarrassed by this, she couldn't speak. After the old lady's rambling, she finally managed to say, "It's nothing." Once she finally managed to say that, my mother quickly urged her to take the baby and go home. Unexpectedly, the old lady said that since my mother had given birth to her grandson, it was already wrong of her not to come and help with her postpartum care. Now that she had finally come, and my mother's health had deteriorated from giving birth to her grandson, she should take good care of my mother. She insisted on taking care of my mother until she was hospitalized, and no amount of persuasion could change her mind. Luckily, my mother was alone in the hospital room at the time; otherwise, it would have been truly embarrassing for others to see. Finally, we had no choice but to agree to let her take care of my mother, but we made it clear beforehand that she wouldn't come to our house. The old lady readily agreed, saying she could sleep on the floor of the ward.

And so, the old lady began taking care of my mother in the hospital. Initially, it was agreed that the three of us—her, my third aunt, and I—would take turns, one day at a time. But every time it was our turn, the old lady would rush to do the work, taking incredibly meticulous care of her, leaving us standing around with nothing to do. On the sixth day, my third aunt couldn't come due to other commitments, leaving only the old lady and me. The old lady ran around, calling nurses, changing IVs, getting medication, and helping my mother with her bodily functions, showing no signs of fatigue, doing her utmost. I could hardly bear to watch. My mother also felt a little guilty. She repeatedly told her not to work so hard, but the old lady just smiled and continued to work just as diligently. On the seventh day, another woman, very thin, moved into the ward. This woman, who seemed to have some illness, was also being cared for by her own sister. However, I later felt that this woman really needed to get her tongue checked, because she talked incessantly all day long, chatting with her friends and then with my mother. When my mother ignored her, she would pick fights with me. On the second day after she moved in, she keenly sensed the strangeness between my mother, me, and the old lady. I don't know if she did it on purpose, but one time, after the old lady helped my mother to the toilet and came back to bed, the thin woman said to my mother, "Sister, your mother-in-law takes such good care of you." My mother immediately blushed and didn't know what to say. The old lady, however, preemptively smiled and said, "She gave me a big, fat grandson. If I don't take good care of her, I'll be ungrateful." That's when I realized that this old lady was not simple. Although she wasn't very educated, she was really good at interrupting and blocking. She first shut my mother down with her words, and sure enough, until my mother was discharged from the hospital, she never dared to deny that she was my mother-in-law. Later, the doctor even regarded her as my mother-in-law, and even said that I was not considerate of the elderly. I was so angry that I almost wanted to beat the doctor.

Later, the thin woman kept talking about how she gave birth to a daughter, how her mother-in-law treated her badly, and how her husband treated her badly. As she talked, she never forgot to say something about how the old lady cared for her daughter-in-law. My mother was ashamed and angry, and because she had been robbed of the talk before, she had no way to refute, so she could only endure it and listened. The old lady became more and more enthusiastic, smiling so much that even the wrinkles on her face stretched. She sang along with the thin woman and praised my mother. The two of them worked together to make my mother blush frequently. Later, two more women were admitted to the ward, and it was inconvenient for me to accompany her on the bed, so only the old lady was left. I went to check on her occasionally. The more she worked, the more energetic she became. She would stand on the floor almost all day without rest, serving my mother at any time. All the women in the ward were extremely envious of my mother.

After enduring half a month of hardship, my mother was discharged from the hospital. Afterward, she never wanted to see her again. As soon as she got home, she asked me to buy her a train ticket to send her away. My mother was discharged in the morning, and she didn't even let the old lady eat lunch. She had me take her to my aunt's house to pick up the child and go to the train station. I took a taxi to the train station. On the platform, the old lady kept thanking my mother, even saying that it seemed my father wasn't very good to her, and that if my mother was unhappy or missed the child, she could visit her anytime. I was too lazy to listen, so I just gave a perfunctory "uh-huh," and didn't even remember the address she gave me. Only when I saw her onto the train and it started moving away did I finally breathe a sigh of relief, thinking, "This time, it's finally over."

After seeing the old lady and the child off, life gradually returned to normal. Everyone carefully avoided mentioning it, as if nothing had happened. I continued my studies at university like an ordinary person.

But we all knew in our hearts that it was all just a way for everyone to escape. My dad applied to his boss to stop being sent on overseas assignments, and my mom stopped going on business trips. Although they're both home every day now, their conversations are always half-hearted. This incident left a deep mark on my heart. I can never change my liking for mature women, and I can never change my habit of imagining my mom being fucked while masturbating. And the cold atmosphere at home every year when I go back is something I can never shake off.

In the summer of 2007, I graduated from university. My dad wanted me to go back to our hometown to work, but I had enough of the cold atmosphere at home. The thought of going back and facing my parents' cold faces every day was unbearable.

So, I worked in Beijing while preparing for graduate school entrance exams. I drifted along like this for another six months, and unsurprisingly, I failed the exams. My job search wasn't going well either. That year, prices in Beijing and across the country skyrocketed overnight. Some of you might remember that, and I almost couldn't make ends meet in Beijing. So, in the fall, I returned to my hometown from Beijing and stayed home for a few months. During that time, I masturbated frequently because having my mother around made it easy for me to have all sorts of sexual fantasies based on her figure. Although my mother had a child at forty, the birth had hardly affected her figure. Perhaps because she didn't breastfeed, I felt that her breasts had grown even larger than before. They used to be round and big, but now they were so big that they almost felt heavy, and she couldn't even fit into a bra anymore. My mother had to wear looser clothes, but even so, you could clearly see her entire breasts swaying under her clothes when she walked, making the clothes bounce. Once, when I was out on the street, I saw a man staring at my mother's breasts and swallowing hard.

After the Spring Festival in 2008, I felt I couldn't stay home any longer and planned to go out and find a job again. But then something happened. I don't remember exactly, but it was either the fifteenth or sixteenth of the first lunar month. My parents were both out, and I was home alone. Someone knocked on the door, and when I opened it, it was a postman holding a letter. He handed me the letter and left. When I got home, I looked at the address on the envelope—it was for my mother. Then I looked at the postmark—it was from Henan! I suddenly felt inexplicably excited and my body felt hot because I guessed who might have written this letter. I had an urge to open it and see what was inside, but I desperately suppressed the urge. I squeezed it with my hand; it seemed like there was something hard inside. I looked at it against the light—it looked like a photograph. I took a few deep breaths, thought for a moment, and decided to hide the letter.

That night, my father was on duty and didn't come home, so only my mother was home. After dinner, I casually mentioned to my mother that there was a letter for her. My mom asked who sent it, and I said I didn't know. The postmark was from Henan. I took the letter from my room, casually handed it to her, and went back to my room to play on the computer. But as I turned away, I secretly glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and sensed she looked a little nervous. Just as I got back to my room, I heard her go into her bedroom and close the door, which made my suspicions even stronger.

That night, around 10 PM, my mom urged me to go to sleep. I turned off the computer and hid under the covers, but I couldn't fall asleep, so I started chatting on QQ on my phone. Around 11 PM, I suddenly heard a strange sound, seemingly coming from the living room. At first, I was startled, but then I listened carefully and realized it was coming from the direction of my mom's bedroom. I suddenly became excited, wondering if my mom had started masturbating because my dad hadn't touched her in a long time. Thinking of this, I threw down my phone, got out of bed, and tiptoed out of the room barefoot, heading quietly towards my mother's bedroom. The closer I got, the clearer the sound became. When I reached my mother's bedroom door, I finally understood—it wasn't the moaning of masturbation, but my mother's soft sobbing.

I had only heard this kind of sobbing once before, the night my mother was gang-raped. Immediately, I thought of the letter; I felt it must be related to this incident. I wanted to take a closer look, but my mother's door was tightly closed. I observed that the small window on the door frame wasn't closed, and the glass pane was horizontal. There was light in the room, reflecting the scene inside onto the window pane. I looked up, carefully searching for the right angle, and finally saw my mother's reflection in the glass. Sure enough, my mother was sitting on the bed, wearing pajamas, holding a letter in one hand and covering her face with the other, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. This confirmed my suspicion; something in the letter must have triggered my mother's reaction. After a while, my mother put the letter away, turned off the light, and I noted where she had put it. Then I tiptoed back to my room, lay in bed, and planned what I needed to do the next day before falling asleep.

The next morning, while my mother was out and my father hadn't returned, I stole the letter from her bedroom. To my surprise, the letter I had found the day before was already the second one; there was another letter in the same place, dated just a few days before the Spring Festival. The two letters were almost identical, just as I had guessed, written by the old woman from Henan. However, the handwriting was very neat, suggesting the old woman had someone else write it for her.

The first letter was about how the child my mother had given birth to four years ago had grown up and was starting to understand things. Now that it was the Spring Festival, the men and women who had gone to work in the village had all returned. Seeing other children with mothers, the child cried and begged his grandmother for her mother too. The grandmother had no choice but to write to my mother, hoping she could go to Henan to see the child.

The second letter was similar to the first, but the tone was more forceful, almost pleading. It also included a photograph of the child in a few mud houses—presumably their home. The child, though cleaned and dressed in new clothes, still looked dusty and unhappy, thin and dark-skinned, suggesting a difficult life there. No

wonder my mother cried after reading it. After reading the whole letter, I carefully put it back. I felt the old woman wouldn't give up after two unanswered letters and might take further action. I decided to hold off on going to work for now and observe.

Sure enough, a few days later, a third letter arrived. My parents were home when this one arrived. My mother went to her bedroom without saying a word. My father glanced at her, his expression grim; he probably already knew about the first two letters. A while later, my mom came out of the bedroom and called my dad in. My dad ignored her, watching TV with a cold face. My mom called him again, and he said he'd watch TV later, lit a cigarette, and leaned back on the sofa, not even glancing at my mom. Seeing that he wasn't paying attention to her, my mom went back inside. At this point, I felt that my dad probably sensed something was wrong, but felt it wasn't convenient to tell my mom while I was home. Just then, I received a text message from 10086 (China Mobile's customer service number). I picked up my phone and lied, saying a classmate had come back and invited me to dinner. My dad grunted and said not to drink too much, then went back to watching TV. I got dressed and went out. I went straight to the internet cafe. I arrived at the internet cafe at 11:00 AM and stayed there until 6:00 PM. By the time I got home, it was completely dark. When I entered the house, I noticed my parents' expressions. I didn't see anything unusual, except that my mom's eyes were a little red, probably from crying. I don't know what they talked about. After dinner, around 9 PM, my dad went out to work his night shift. A little while after he left, my mom called me to her bedroom. I went in, and she told me to close the door. Then she sat on the bed, her face turning red before she even spoke, as if she had mustered a lot of courage to finally say what she wanted to say.

My mom first told me about the letters. She thought I didn't know what they said, so she recounted the contents of the first two letters, and then the third letter from today. Apparently, the third letter said that the child had fallen ill because he missed his mother. Although the fever subsided after a few days, he remained listless, and the old woman was worried about future problems. In the letter, she cried and pleaded with my mom to come see the child. My mom already missed her child, and these three letters from the old woman, especially the photo in the second letter combined with the contents of the third, were too much for her to bear. So she discussed with my dad whether she could go see the child. My dad had already guessed that the letters might contain these kinds of things, and of course, he forbade my mom to go, even threatening to divorce her if she dared to go. Later, my mom begged and pleaded until my dad finally relented. His conditions were twofold: first, the trip couldn't exceed a week; second, I had to go with her. Both conditions were acceptable, so my mom asked if I could go with her.

Initially, she was worried I'd be embarrassed and wouldn't go, but she didn't know I really wanted her to go. Just hearing about it excited me; memories from four years ago flooded back. So when I readily agreed, my mom was surprised and asked me several times. Finally, I impatiently asked, "Do you want to go or not?" Seeing this, she stopped asking and said, "Let's get ready; we'll leave in a few days."

The next day, my mom sent a letter to Henan, informing them of the departure date. The day before departure, my mom asked me to go shopping with her to buy lots of children's clothes, food, toys, and train tickets. Because I was afraid my dad would be upset if he saw the things, I put them in my room after buying them. Unexpectedly, my dad called that night to say he was on duty. Looking back, I guess he was just upset. That night, I lay in bed. My train was at 6 AM the next day. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. I tossed and turned in bed. Around 11 PM, I still couldn't sleep, so I got up to use the restroom. I heard my mom's bed creaking; she was probably also having trouble sleeping. I went back to bed and finally drifted off to sleep around 1 or 2 AM.

Because I didn't sleep well, I couldn't stay awake any longer after boarding the train the next day and fell asleep in my seat. I slept until after 9 AM. Afterward, I ate something and went back to sleep. The rest of the journey passed by in a daze, dozing off and snacking. I woke up a few times and saw my mom leaning against the window, seemingly lost in thought, sometimes biting her lip.

The train arrived at its destination around 1 PM, a county in Henan (I won't mention the exact name), a place with a bad reputation nationwide. After getting off the train, we first found a small restaurant to eat something, then took a taxi to the county bus station. Following the address on the letter, we found the bus we needed to take—a dilapidated minibus. Once on board, we looked at the route map and realized that our destination was the last stop, at least twelve or thirteen villages away—extremely remote. Several more people boarded, judging by their clothes and appearance, they were local farmers. They probably hadn't bathed in years; they smelled foul, and their bags were piled up in the aisle, making them look filthy. After waiting for about half an hour, the driver finally slowly came over, opened the door, got into the driver's seat, and started the bus. The minibus pulled out of the bus station compound and onto the main road. After driving south for less than five minutes, it turned right onto a narrow, dilapidated country road. This road, paved with cement, looked like it hadn't been repaired in over a decade; it was full of potholes and so bumpy that I almost vomited up my noodles. By then, all the excitement from yesterday had vanished; I just wanted to get to the station as quickly as possible. This rickety bus was impossible to even doze off in; you'd be jolted up from your seat every now and then, and the road got worse the further we went. But the other passengers seemed used to it. Some were smoking cigarettes, and a couple of farmers were chatting quietly. I guessed they were talking about my mother and me; our clothes and appearance were clearly different from theirs. A plump, dignified city woman like my mother probably didn't come here often.

Outside the window, the sun gradually began to set, and people started getting off the bus one by one, until finally only my mother and I were left. The lighter-weight old minibus bounced even more violently on the dirt road, the rumbling sound making me worry it might fall apart at any moment. We drove on anxiously for another half hour, until dusk had fallen outside the window, and I could see nothing but the shadows of the roadside trees. Suddenly, the minibus braked sharply, stopping abruptly. The driver yelled, "Jiumenlou, get off!"

His heavy Henan accent initially caught my attention, but my mother understood. She pulled me aside and said, "Grab your things and get off." I then realized what he meant, grabbed my belongings, and bent over to get up and walk towards the door. As soon as my mother and I got off, the minibus drove away. Only then did I notice a small, thin figure by the roadside. Seeing us get off, the figure walked towards us, calling out my mother's name. It was too dark to see her face clearly, but I knew from her voice that it was the old woman. The old woman came over with a beaming smile and said, "I've been waiting here all afternoon! You've finally arrived! Don't bother bringing anything; I don't need anything." She then tried to take the things from my mother's hands. My mother was indeed tired, so she didn't stand on ceremony and handed them over, asking, "Where's the child?" The old woman said, "At home. Come with me." She then looked at me and said, "Is this your eldest son?

He's grown quite a bit; a fine young man." I ignored her, and she didn't seem to mind, continuing to talk to herself... We picked up our things and headed towards the lit area in the distance, with my mother and I following behind. Along the way, my mother kept asking about the child. The old woman said the child was much better these past few days, but missed her mother terribly. She added that raising the child these past few years had been exhausting; she used to be able to soothe him, but now that he was older, she couldn't anymore and insisted on having his mother. She said she really didn't want to trouble my mother any further if she hadn't been so desperate. My mother listened without saying anything, just walking silently. After a while, she asked again if the child had been named. The old woman said they hadn't chosen a formal name, only a nickname they just used casually, Baogen

. We walked with uneven steps, and it took us quite a while to enter the village. As soon as we entered, the dogs in every house started barking wildly. Although we were in the village, not many houses had lights on. The village roads were dirt roads without any lamps, and it was still pitch black all around. We wandered around the village for a few more turns before the old woman finally led us to a courtyard, saying we were home. The courtyard walls were made of adobe bricks, and much of the outer yellow mud had peeled away, revealing rows of adobe brick cores underneath. The main gate was a pair of old wooden doors, and the remnants of couplets could still be faintly seen. We followed the old woman into the courtyard. The courtyard wasn't large; the main house consisted of two south-facing mud-brick rooms, one of which was lit by a dim light bulb. There was a chicken coop at the east end, and various farm tools were scattered haphazardly under a shed at the west end. The old woman first bolted the door, then led us into the lit room. As soon as we entered, the same pungent smell we'd smelled on the farmers on the truck hit us again. I saw my mother wrinkle her nose but say nothing. The outer room had a stove, but no light was on. The old woman opened the inner room door and said, "Baogen, look who's here," before going inside. My mother and I followed, then froze.

On the kang (heated brick bed), a dirty little child was staring at us blankly. It must be my mother's child; he looked almost exactly like in the photos. On the stove in front of the kang, an iron pot was bubbling something over; it smelled alright, though. But what stunned my mother and me was the man tending the fire by the stove. He was dark and thin, and when he saw us come in, he looked up and grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "You're here. Come on, sit on the kang (heated brick bed), the food is almost ready." I recognized him immediately as the man who had first raped my mother, the old woman's son, He Yonggui. To be honest, I never expected him to be here, and my mother certainly didn't either. I stood there, at a loss for words. The old woman reacted quickly, immediately smiling and saying, "My son, Erdan, behaved well, the government released him early. He's not a bad person, just confused for a moment." Then she quickly called to her grandson on the kang: "Baogen, look, Grandma has brought your mother." The child looked at my mother, still standing there dumbfounded, but my mother laughed first, clapping her hands at the child and opening her arms, saying, "Mommy's sweetheart, come here, let Mommy hug you." The scene I feared—my mother losing control of her emotions—did not happen. When the child saw my mother about to hug him, he shrank back in fright. The old woman and my mother kept encouraging him before he dared to slowly approach. My mother hugged the child tightly, smiling and saying, "My sweet baby, I missed you so much! Did you miss me too, my sweet baby?" The child finally smiled and hugged my mother's neck, calling out, "Mommy, Mommy." At this moment, my mother finally couldn't hold back and hugged the child tightly, crying. As a result, the child also started crying. The old woman, He Yonggui, and I stood by and watched. To be honest, I felt no excitement at all at that moment; after a day of traveling, I was almost numb to everything. I took this opportunity to look inside the house. The house was just as poor as the yard. Although it was clear that it had been cleaned carefully and the walls had been painted, there was nothing in the house except for a few pieces of furniture, and there was nothing with electricity except for the light bulb. They were damn poor; no wonder he was over forty and still couldn't find a wife.

My mother hugged the child and cried for a while, then slowly stopped, wiped away her tears, and then smiled as she took out children's toys, clothes, and various snacks from the bags we were carrying. Then the old woman told us to eat first, and that we could talk after we ate. She asked her son to serve us rice. The rice was mutton stew noodles, a big bowl for each of us, along with some pickled vegetables. I was indeed very hungry, so I picked up my bowl and ate it all. After eating, my mother started trying on clothes for the child. The child held the toy my mother had given him and grinned foolishly, while the old woman stayed by his side, coaxing him. He Yonggui also took this opportunity to try to talk to my mother, but she ignored him. After a while, I felt a little sleepy and yawned involuntarily while sitting on the kang (a heated brick bed). My mother also looked a little sleepy. At this point, the old woman said, "You've been traveling all day. Get some rest. We can talk properly tomorrow." My mother didn't want to sleep, so she asked me if I was sleepy. I was already very sleepy at this point, so I said I wanted to sleep too. My mother had no choice but to agree to the arrangement. The old woman had my mother, her, and the child sleep in this room, while her son and I slept in the next room. I followed He Yonggui to the next room, which was actually where he usually slept. The bedding was complete, but it looked like it hadn't been washed in a long time. It looked greasy and dirty. Because I was sleepy, I didn't care about that, but after hesitating for a while, I still made an excuse that I was cold and didn't dare to take off my clothes. Actually, I was mainly afraid of the dirt. After taking off my shoes and socks, I crawled into bed. I originally wanted to play on my phone for a while, but I fell asleep while holding my phone.

When I woke up the next day, it was already bright. My phone was still beside me, but He Yonggui was nowhere to be seen. I slowly got out of bed, my head still feeling a little heavy. I rubbed my eyes, put on my shoes and socks, and went to wash my face. When I got there, I saw my mother preparing to wash as well. She seemed to have slept poorly, probably because of the change of bed. After washing up, we had a simple breakfast. The old woman said there was a town about ten miles away with a market day, and suggested we go with her. So my mother, carrying the child, went to the market with the old woman. I had nothing else to do, so I went with them. Walking along the village road, acquaintances kept greeting the old woman. There were few strangers in the village, and my fair-skinned, plump mother stood out among the group of country bumpkins. Almost everyone who greeted the old woman would look at my mother and ask, "Is this your daughter-in-law? She's so beautiful, she looks like a lucky woman. No wonder you always praised her so much." My mother couldn't argue back in front of so many people, otherwise it would be like that time in the hospital. She could only smile awkwardly, and everyone assumed she was just shy. Then it dawned on me—this old woman was certain my mother would come, and she'd been bragging to the villagers beforehand about having a daughter-in-law. It seemed the villagers didn't really believe her, but my mother's expression and silence only confirmed her status as the "daughter-in-law." Before we even left the village, my mother's face was already flushed red with embarrassment, and she didn't dare look up. Once

we were out of the village and on the country dirt road, the crowd thinned out, and my mother finally returned to normal. She only complained a little about the old woman, trying to get her to stop talking about her "daughter-in-law" to others. The old woman replied, "You gave me a grandson; if I didn't treat you like a daughter-in-law, I'd be betraying my conscience." Seeing her insistence, my mother stopped saying anything.

When we arrived at the market, it was at its busiest time, with all sorts of vendors crowding both streets. We spent the morning at the market and also strolled around the town. My mother bought the child lots of delicious food and fun toys; the child was very excited and laughed all morning. We ate lunch at the market and didn't go home until the afternoon.

When we got home, He Yonggui was already preparing dinner, with meat stewing in the pot. We sat on the kang (heated brick bed) and talked for a while. As it gradually got dark and dinner was almost ready, I suddenly felt the urge to urinate, so I went outside to the toilet. When I returned and entered the outer room, I saw He Yonggui washing dishes with a brush. He looked strange; it didn't seem like he was cleaning the dishes, but rather like he was wiping something inside. My heart skipped a beat; I realized something, but I didn't show it or greet him. I just went straight into the house and sat on the kang. A little while later, He Yonggui came in with a stack of bowls. I noticed that two of the bowls had chips, while the rest were intact. Dinner was meat soup noodles, still a large bowl for each person. My mother and I used the two intact bowls. I deliberately pretended that I didn't like the soup noodles and didn't eat much, only some vegetables. He Yonggui and his mother kept urging me to eat more, and even brought me vinegar and chili, but after adding them, I said I couldn't like it even more. My mother scolded me for being so immature at my age, but I didn't argue with her. I just kept saying I couldn't get used to it. Seeing this, He Yonggui and his mother started persuading my mother instead. In the end, I only reluctantly drank a few sips of the meat soup.

After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes, and the old woman turned off the light, saying she wanted to save electricity. The group sat on the kang (heated brick bed) talking by the light from the charcoal fire in the stove. After a while, I heard my mother yawn, so I yawned too. This yawn was a big deal; I wasn't sleepy at all, but this yawn woke me up. Seeing this, the old woman urged my mother and me to rest again. This time, my mother didn't refuse, presumably because she was already tired. The room arrangement was the same as yesterday. He Yonggui and I slept in the next room. Since I was somewhat used to it, I took off my outer clothes today, wearing only my thermal underwear, and crawled into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

After sleeping for some time, I suddenly felt someone nudging me and calling softly, "Brother, brother." I was about to open my eyes to answer when I suddenly realized it was He Yonggui, so I immediately pretended to be asleep again, only slightly moving my arm. He Yonggui's voice stopped for a while, then he called me again, but this time I didn't even move.

He Yonggui probably thought I was sound asleep, so he stopped calling me. I heard him get up from the kang (a heated brick bed), seemingly put on something, and then get out of bed. Only then did I open my eyes, turn over, and look out the window. He Yonggui's shadow passed by the window, heading towards the room where his mother and my mother lived next door. I knew I had guessed correctly. I got up from the kang (a heated brick bed) and pressed my ear against the wall, trying to find a crack to listen to what was happening next door. Unexpectedly, a piece of plaster fell off. Luckily, it wasn't a large piece, and it was in the corner, but it revealed a crack in the mud bricks behind it. I peered through the crack and could just see into the kang in the next room. Although the lights weren't on, faint moonlight shone through the window. I saw He Yonggui had already entered the room, and the old woman had also gotten up. Only my mother and child remained motionless. The old woman, wrapped in a quilt, got out of bed, picked up the child, and wrapped him in the quilt. The child didn't wake up. This further confirmed my suspicions: the old woman and He Yonggui had drugged my mother and me, and also the child. They probably had drugged us last night, which was why I felt dizzy this morning.

After the old woman whispered a few words to He Yonggui, she took the child and left. I quickly lay back down, afraid she would come back with the child to check on me. After a while, not hearing anyone coming, I got up again and went to the crack. He Yonggui was already on the kang (heated brick bed), throwing his cloak aside, his long penis dangling from his crotch. He had also pulled back my mother's blanket. My mother was wearing purplish-red underwear and a bra, her plump, white thighs full of flesh. He Yonggui skillfully pulled off my mother's underwear and bra, leaving her naked on the tattered mattress. In the dim moonlight, her skin was as white as if coated with phosphorescent powder, her full, firm breasts flat on her chest, her lower body with only a few sparse pubic hairs, her genitals bulging. My mother still felt nothing. He Yonggui impatiently spread my mother's legs, then pressed himself against her, supporting her with one hand from below. With a thrust, he inserted his penis into my mother's body. His whole body tensed up instantly, and after a while, he began to slowly move on my mother. I could almost hear his panting.

He Yonggui's penis was going in and out of my mother's body. After a while, I could see the glistening moisture on his penis. Then he stopped, grabbed my mother's breasts and squeezed them a few times, then lowered his head and started sucking on my mother's nipples. After a few bites, he lifted himself up and continued to thrust his lower body against my mother. The flesh on my mother's thighs trembled from his thrusts, and her breasts swayed back and forth in front of her chest. His saliva glistened on her nipples, making me want to grab a handful myself. I involuntarily grabbed my own penis and realized it was already hard and hot to the touch. So, without thinking twice, I started masturbating. I hadn't been this excited in a long time since I spied on my mother being gang-raped. I soon ejaculated in the corner of the wall.

At this time, He Yonggui on the next bed was also about to have his [full text]. Perhaps because he hadn't been with a woman in a long time, he didn't last long either. His movements became faster and harder, making me worry that he would wake my mother. Thankfully, after a few quick movements, he pressed his buttocks down and froze. A minute or two later, he finally got off my mother, satisfied, and casually touched her breast again. Then he put on the blanket, got out of bed, and went out the door. The old woman had been waiting outside. As soon as He Yonggui came out, she said a few words to him and went back inside, carrying something that looked like a towel, probably for cleaning my mother's genitals. I wanted to look, but then I heard footsteps outside; He Yonggui had probably returned. So I quickly lay back down and pretended to be asleep, listening to his footsteps as he entered the room. After he got on the bed, he called my name softly twice. I didn't move or make a sound, and only then did he feel relieved enough to sleep. Although I was still very excited, I felt a little tired after the release, and the drug, though not very strong, was still working. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.

The next morning, my mother kept complaining that she hadn't slept well and her body ached. The old woman said she was probably used to the soft beds in the city and couldn't get used to the hard kang (heated brick bed), and that adding two more mattresses to her bed would solve the problem. My mother didn't comment on the old woman's explanation, just grunted in agreement. After breakfast, my mother said she wasn't feeling well and wouldn't go out, just stay home with the children for the day and leave the next day. The old woman and He Yonggui were stunned, and then kept urging my mother to stay a few more days, but this time she was very firm. I think she probably sensed something was wrong and didn't want to stay any longer. In the end, the old woman and He Yonggui couldn't persuade her to stay a few more days for the sake of the children. Mentioning the children softened my mother's heart, and she finally agreed to stay one more day, promising to visit the children every few months. Only then did the old woman and He Yonggui relent. My mother cooked all day, and she probably guessed something was wrong, but she still didn't expect the problem to be elsewhere. Actually, thinking about it, it's understandable; they eat from the same pot, how could she be unwell while others were fine? So sometimes I think there's some truth to the line in that old article, "The Women in My Family," that "My mom, that idiot, always thinks with her uterus instead of her brain." Then, during the day, while my mom was cooking, an acquaintance I'd run into on the street the day before happened to come over. She happened to see my mom cooking, which immediately solidified her status as the daughter-in-law. And that acquaintance kept praising my mom for being virtuous and not at all spoiled, even bringing up the example of a certain family's city wife who was spoiled, lazy, and temperamental, comparing her to the old woman and He Yonggui, praising them for being lucky. My mom was so embarrassed she couldn't speak, only blushing and smiling awkwardly. The more embarrassed she was to refute, the more the old woman and that person got carried away, just like back in the hospital, except this time it was my mom's own fault. That person didn't stop until we started eating. Even then, the old woman hadn't recovered from this feeling of enjoyment, her face beaming as she kept piling food into my mom's bowl. My mother seemed a bit distracted, and I had to remind her several times before she remembered to quickly eat her rice.

As expected, shortly after dinner that evening, she was drugged again. I hadn't eaten for two days, afraid they'd notice, so I ate quite a bit, but soon after [the full text], I used the excuse of going to the toilet to vomit it all out. So, when He Yonggui slipped out that night, I remained awake, just like the night before, and peeked through the crack, witnessing the entire process of He Yonggui vigorously having sex with my mother. However, having already had sex with my mother for two nights, his sexual function had recovered somewhat; this time, he didn't ejaculate even after a long time. The old woman, probably worried that my mother would wake up if it went on too long, gently knocked on the window, which spurred him to put in more effort, and after a while, he ejaculated inside my mother again. This time, the old woman was clearly unhappy when she came in and said a few words to him. He didn't wake me when he came back and went straight to sleep.

The next day was our last day there. I sensed that my mother clearly knew what was going on, but she didn't want to say it. She barely spoke to the old woman and He Yonggui, only holding the child and showering him with affection. Perhaps she felt it was the last day and was reluctant to leave. Even so, before dinner that evening, she left the old woman and He Yonggui 1,500 yuan, telling them to use the money to raise the child well after we left. As she spoke, my mother cried again, crying with the child, and then the old woman cried too. Finally, the three of them hugged each other and cried. My mother's mind seemed to have gone blank again; she forgot how these two had treated her. She didn't understand anything when the child was mentioned. However, perhaps they had a change of heart, because they didn't put any drugs in the food that night. After dinner, my mother actually sat with them until 10 pm before going to sleep.

The next day, my mother and I left. The old woman saw us off, while He Yonggui stayed home to comfort the child, afraid the child would cry if he knew his mother was gone. We boarded a minibus by the roadside, and as it left, I saw the old woman seem to wipe the corner of her eye. But I felt no sympathy for her; I just felt a sense of relief, just like when I handed my child over to the old woman to send away.

But I was wrong again. Shortly after returning home, I found a job and started working diligently. Two months later, while I was at work, my mother suddenly called and asked if I could accompany her to the hospital the next day. I didn't know what was wrong, and when I asked my mother, she wouldn't say. Since it was the weekend, I agreed.

Unexpectedly, the next day my mother didn't go to the county hospital, but to the county maternal and child health hospital. Everywhere she went, there were pregnant women. My mother immediately registered for an appointment in the obstetrics and gynecology department, and I immediately understood what was going on. Afterwards, I asked my mother, and she clearly told me that she went to the maternal and child health hospital because it was less crowded and she was afraid of running into acquaintances. As luck would have it, as soon as my mother entered the OB-GYN, a woman in her forties greeted her. This woman worked at the same place as my mother and was a notorious gossip. She was also there for a pregnancy checkup. Upon seeing my mother, the woman started bombarding her with questions until the doctor gave her a referral for tests. The doctor took my mother's pulse and also gave her a referral for tests. While waiting for the results, my mother ran into the gossipy woman again in the hallway.

Unfazed by the crowd, the woman continued to chatter about women. My mother knew this woman's temperament and didn't want to offend her, fearing she would spread rumors, so she reluctantly chatted with her for a while. At ten o'clock, the test results came back. The woman wasn't pregnant, but my mother was two months pregnant! My mother turned pale with fright and immediately told the woman not to tell anyone. The woman readily agreed.

Only then did my mother go to the doctor to ask her about the pregnancy. But the trouble didn't end there. Because my mother is a married woman, an abortion requires the consent of both husband and wife; otherwise, the hospital wouldn't dare perform the procedure, fearing family members would cause a scene. When the doctor said this, my mother almost collapsed in the examination room. She knew perfectly well whose child it was, and my father was still furious; getting him to sign off on this cuckolding was a pipe dream. Since the major hospitals wouldn't perform the procedure, she could only go to a private hospital, but she was afraid to go there for fear of complications, so she had to go home first. My mother's original plan was to visit my aunt in a few days; my aunt lived in another city, and she wanted her to find a reliable private hospital there to secretly have the abortion. When I came home from work on Monday night, I found the house a mess. My mom was sitting on the sofa crying uncontrollably, and my dad was yelling. When he saw me, he slapped me hard across the face. Before I could even react, he slapped me again. I was stunned and yelled at him, "Are you crazy? Why are you hitting me?" My dad got even angrier and kicked me before yelling, "If I hit you, I'd beat you to death! How are you supposed to be watching your mother?" I immediately understood: that gossipy woman must have leaked the secret, and somehow it reached my dad's ears. I had nothing to say then. My dad lashed out at my mom and me again, then slammed the door and left. I rushed to comfort my mom, but she was genuinely scared this time, and nothing I did could soothe her. She cried until she was exhausted and finally fell asleep in the middle of the night.

The next day, I took a day off from work, partly to clean up the house, and partly because I was worried something might have happened to my mom. I wanted to talk to my dad and tell him that my mom had been drugged, but he wouldn't answer any of my calls. I called his workplace, but as soon as he heard my voice, he threw the phone down and wouldn't answer anymore. I didn't want to upset him and wanted to wait until he calmed down, so I didn't call again. Instead, I called my aunt and asked her to come and keep my mom company. My mom wasn't crying today; she just sat there blankly. When my aunt arrived, I learned that my mom's situation had become the talk of the town. Even her acquaintances were asking her about it. I thought this was a huge problem. Even if she had an abortion, my mom wouldn't be able to stay here anymore. But for now, the only option was an abortion; maybe it would allow her to go somewhere else to hide.

A few days later, my other aunt called, saying the hospital had made arrangements and we should come over. My aunt and I accompanied my mom to my other aunt's place to have the abortion done first. Unexpectedly, a check-up at the hospital revealed another serious issue. After the examination, the hospital told us that because my mother had already had one pregnancy at an advanced maternal age, her uterine wall was very thin and she couldn't have a surgical abortion. Doing so could damage the uterine wall and cause severe bleeding. For the same reason, a medical abortion was also not an option, as the bleeding would be too heavy, and they were worried my mother's body couldn't handle it. They could only prescribe medication for a few months to replenish her blood and see if she would have a natural miscarriage. Women at this age have a high chance of miscarriage, and a thin uterine wall also means a weak endometrium, greatly increasing the likelihood of a natural miscarriage. This terrified us. Of course, we wanted to save face, but her life was the most important thing. Since the doctor said it was impossible, we dared not even consider a surgical abortion again. Now we could only listen to the doctor.

We stayed at my aunt's house for a few days before going home. As soon as we got home, my dad called my mom, demanding she get an abortion immediately or he'd divorce her. My mom told him the doctor said she couldn't have one and had to wait for a natural miscarriage. My dad immediately said she had three days to get the abortion, or he'd divorce her. My mom begged and pleaded on the phone, but my dad wouldn't budge, threatening to sue her if she didn't have the abortion or go to the civil affairs bureau for a divorce. My mom, having given up all hope, shamelessly told my dad to go ahead and sue. A few days later, the court summons arrived, and my mom had no choice but to go to court. Although the court didn't grant the divorce because my mom was pregnant, my parents and I had completely broken off relations. A few days later, my dad hired a car and several people to take all our belongings away. My mom and I had no choice but to stay at my third aunt's house temporarily. My dad's intention was clear: he was just waiting for my mom to give birth [full text] so he could divorce her, and my mom could only wait for the baby to miscarry naturally. Unexpectedly, the baby was very strong. My mom stayed at my aunt's house for about three months, and although the baby had already left her belly, there was still no sign of miscarriage. People around her started gossiping more and more, and even my aunt and uncle felt ashamed to go out. My aunt couldn't say anything, but my uncle's expression grew increasingly grim. Seeing that things weren't going well, my mom went back to the doctor at the same hospital we had visited before, asking why the baby hadn't miscarried. The doctor gave us the same advice, telling us to wait and it would happen. My mom then asked my aunt to help her contact several other hospitals, but the doctors there gave similar advice. Finally, one hospital was willing to try performing an abortion, but they were scared off when they heard my mom was five months pregnant. We had no choice but to go back home, but we felt too embarrassed to stay at my aunt's house any longer, so we rented a room outside.

Besides the housing situation, my mother's work was also affected. Her supervisor spoke with her several times, subtly suggesting she take retirement or extended sick leave—basically, stop coming to work. The main reason was that her pregnancy had damaged the company's reputation, and being an unplanned birth would negatively impact performance evaluations; state-owned enterprises need to maintain a professional image. In truth, my mother couldn't work anymore. After such a serious incident, her reputation was ruined. Everyone at work considered her a shameless slut, and even when we walked together on the street, people would stare and gossip. At that time, it was practically impossible for her to find a place to live in our county. After much deliberation, my mother decided to take extended sick leave; otherwise, retiring now would be a huge disadvantage. After resolving the work issue, my mother and I started looking for a place to stay again. Now, only my aunt's house was an option, since her family lived in another city. So, my mother called my aunt again, hoping to stay with her for a few days. My aunt agreed, and my mother went to her house.

I thought the matter would calm down for a while, but two more months passed, and there was still no sign of miscarriage. By this time, the baby was already fully formed in her womb. My mother, seven months pregnant, didn't dare go out and stayed at my aunt's house all day. But there was an unexpected problem: my aunt's son, my cousin, was in middle school and on summer vacation. His classmates often came to visit, and they always saw my mother. Although the kids didn't say anything in front of my cousin, some inevitably told their parents about it when they got home, or gossiped about it in private. Plus, my aunt's house was only a few dozen miles from ours, and many people in the two counties were related. Gradually, the news about my mother spread throughout my aunt's neighborhood. As a result, not only my aunt and uncle were affected, but even my cousin felt ashamed. Every few days, people—sometimes my aunt's colleagues, sometimes my cousin's classmates—would come to visit, just to see what was going on. Once or twice was fine, but with so many people coming, my aunt's family couldn't take it anymore. Although I didn't feel comfortable kicking her out, my mother herself felt she couldn't stay any longer, so she came back.

But now my mother and I are worried. The main problem is that even if she comes back, with my mother's bad reputation, she won't be able to stay here anymore. Besides, it's very inconvenient for a single middle-aged woman to have a child, and there will be many other things to worry about. After much discussion, we both felt there was only one place left to go.

So my mother wrote a letter to Henan, explaining the situation, and then packed some of her things. Because this time, unlike last time, she might be staying for a long time, so she packed a lot of things, filling two suitcases, one large and one small, and she also brought some money. I took an extra day off on the weekend, making it three days, to see my mother off. On a Friday at the end of August 2008, my mother and I boarded the train to Henan with our luggage. Since it was our second time going, we knew the way well and arrived smoothly. Unexpectedly, this time the old woman arrived early at the county bus station to meet us. With her was a man we didn't recognize. Seeing my mother, especially her pregnant belly, the old woman's face lit up with joy. She asked the man to help us with our luggage while leading us to a minivan parked nearby. It turned out the man was her distant nephew, and the minivan belonged to him. Because she was worried the minibuses at the bus station would be too bumpy and hurt the baby, she had asked her nephew to drive us there.

Although the minivan was better than the minibus we'd taken last time, it was still quite bumpy on the country dirt roads, though at least it was faster. This time, we didn't wait until dark; by four in the afternoon, our car had already entered the village. We drove directly to the old woman's house. As soon as I got out, I was surprised: compared to last time, the courtyard walls and gatehouse had clearly been repaired, with a layer of whitewashed mud on the outside.

We carried our luggage into the yard, and my mother's youngest son rushed out of the house, calling for his mother and lunging at us, but the old woman stopped him, afraid he might hurt my mother's belly. The old woman led us and the children into the house. There were quite a few people inside, and the house had been freshly painted. An old television set sat on a cabinet, and a pile of red cloth and paper lay on the kang (heated brick bed). He Yonggui was also in the house. Seeing my mother enter, he greeted her with a sheepish grin, calling her by her name, "Wanxiu, you're here." My mother already disliked him, and his affectionate way of calling her name made her even more uncomfortable. I saw her expression change, and before she could react, everyone in the house was already greeting her—some called her sister-in-law, some called her brother's wife, and some called her aunt—leaving us completely bewildered. Then it suddenly dawned on me; I thought, "Oh no, I've fallen for that old woman's trick again." Just as I was thinking this, I heard the old woman begin to explain to my mother. It turns out that as soon as the old woman received my mother's letter, she started making arrangements for my mother and He Yonggui. She felt that my mother had nowhere to go anyway, and my father was determined not to want her anymore. My mother had given birth to a child for the He family and was pregnant with another child. No matter what, she was already considered a member of the He family. So why not take this opportunity to hold a wedding for my mother and He Yonggui, to give my mother a formal status and the children a formal status? Otherwise, even if they hid here, it wouldn't look good in the village.

At this point, the deed was done, and my mother had no choice. After all, this was the last place she could come to. Since the village didn't register marriages, the wedding was considered official once the firecrackers went off. My mother had no choice but to agree to the old woman's proposal. These past few days, the old woman had already taken care of most of the arrangements; the wedding day was tomorrow. Since my mother had agreed, the old woman arranged for everyone to have a meal first. During the meal, I saw a distracted expression on my mother's face again. Clearly, although she had agreed, she wasn't mentally prepared for marriage, as it had all come so suddenly. After the meal, accompanied by several women from the He family, my mother went to the village tailor to try on clothes. The old woman had already had a wedding dress made according to my mother's approximate measurements. One of the people at the meal was the person in charge of tomorrow's wedding. After the meal, the person in charge began to arrange the work for tomorrow, and I was assigned to help the newlyweds by holding their wine and glasses when they toasted the guests. After the arrangements were complete, a group of people began decorating the new house. The new house was actually the main room where He Yonggui and his family were currently staying, the same room my mother and the old woman had slept in last time. I couldn't help much, so I waited for the girls to cut out the "double happiness" characters, and then went with a few boys to paste them on the doors, windows, furniture, and wellhead in the yard and house. While we were busy, my mother and the women returned, bringing clothes and some things needed for tomorrow. The head steward arranged for my mother to stay at He Yonggui's aunt's house, and for He Yonggui to go fetch the bride early the next morning. I stayed at He Yonggui's house; there were chores to do tomorrow morning, like setting off firecrackers. I originally wanted to go with my mother, since I felt I was part of the bride's family, but the head steward said that according to local custom, a son cannot accompany his wife after remarriage, so I had to follow local customs. The decorations for the new house lasted until 11 pm. Finally, after finishing, I and a few unfamiliar young men were arranged to rest next to the new house. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Although I enjoyed watching my mother being taken advantage of, seeing her get married in front of me still gave me quite a shock. This shock made me feel restless and anxious until I was so tired that I finally drifted off to sleep.

However, I didn't sleep for long. I was woken up around six in the morning. After quickly eating a few bites of food, I grabbed a box of firecrackers and went to the door to set them off. The wedding car was the same van that had picked us up yesterday. Today, the front of the van was decorated with red ribbons and flowers. There were no other cars besides it, making it look rather shabby compared to the grand processions in the city. He Yonggui changed into new clothes and got into the car with a beaming smile. His second uncle, third uncle, and third aunt were already in the car. He and they carried the gifts to his aunt's house to fetch the bride.

As the car drove away, I thought to myself, my mother probably never dreamed that she would remarry in such a shabby way.

I won't go into detail about the wedding process; those familiar with rural Henan wedding customs should know, and those who don't can ignore it—the customs are largely the same everywhere. It wasn't until 1 PM that all the toasts were finished, by which time most guests had already eaten and left. Some relatives of the He family were clearing away the leftovers; any food left uneaten at the banquet was collected and kept for several days. Only then did the newlyweds and those who had helped eat. At the table, my mother kept putting food on my mother-in-law's plate; their positions had shifted at that moment, and my mother-in-law was now accepting her daughter-in-law's hospitality without the previous sense of being overwhelmed.

After dinner, I felt a bit sleepy, so I went back to the room next to the bridal chamber and fell asleep immediately. When I woke up, it was almost 6 PM.

After dinner, some young people and idlers came to the He family's courtyard and the bridal chamber; they were there to make a ruckus. Because my mom was heavily pregnant, she couldn't do many of the usual games, so they didn't make things too difficult for her and He Yonggui. They just played games like "eating apples," "peeling bananas," and "finding eggs," and people gradually dispersed.

My vacation was only three days long, so I had to leave on the second day. I got up early, dressed, and went to the He family's house. My mom was making noodles for her new mother-in

-law. When they saw me, the old woman and He Yonggui invited me to sit down and eat with them. My mom, heavily pregnant, was busy on the floor. I noticed that her gait was a bit unnatural, and it didn't seem like she was pregnant.

I figured it was because He Yonggui could finally have sex with my mom openly last night, so he went a bit too far. Also, both my mom and He Yonggui looked exhausted; I wondered what time they had gone to bed last night.

After dinner, I had to leave. I said goodbye to my mother and her new husband, telling her to live well with He Yonggui, and praising him. I also reminded He Yonggui to be careful with my mother and the baby, as they were quite far along in their pregnancy. My mother seemed to understand my meaning, and her face flushed. He Yonggui just smiled and readily agreed; I wasn't sure if he understood. My mother

's distant nephew had already driven off to work, so I had to walk to the edge of the village, take a minibus to the county town, and then a train. After a bumpy day, I finally arrived home.

Lying in bed, I felt like I'd just woken from a dream; my mind was a jumbled mess. I picked up my phone, dialed my mother's number, and let her know I was safe in Henan. Then

I hung up and fell asleep. It took me about a week to recover and slowly return to my normal routine. It took me about two months to adjust to the fact that my mother had remarried and moved to Henan. During that time, I called her about once a week. Just when I was finally able to calmly reflect on everything, my mother gave birth to a boy at the township health center, much to the delight of the entire He family.

My mother told me on the phone that her mother-in-law kept praising her for being a good daughter, making her look good in front of the He family and friends. My mother seemed quite proud of herself, clearly enjoying her mother-in-law's praise, but these words stirred up a lot of unease within me. After that, my mother asked me to help her with the divorce proceedings, officially divorcing my father. The house was awarded to my father, and she asked me to keep some of the other assets in my rented apartment for her. Only after all the formalities were completed did I tell my father that my mother had remarried in Henan.

Upon hearing this news, my father was stunned for a moment, then took a deep drag on his cigarette, threw it on the ground, stomped it out, and left without looking back.

As the Spring Festival of 2009 approached, I felt I should visit my mother in Henan. So I called her, arranged a date, packed some of her things at home, and took the train to Henan again, arriving at my mother's current home. As soon as I entered the courtyard, my mother came out of the house to greet me. My mother had changed somewhat since my last visit. She was wearing a cheap pink down jacket, common in rural areas, and cotton-padded trousers without leggings. Her hair was tied up, and although her skin was still fair, it was slightly rough. Having just given birth and still breastfeeding, my mother's breasts were large and swollen, swaying with her movements. She already resembled a typical Henan peasant woman. My mother led me into the main room. The old woman had taken Baogen to visit neighbors; only He Yonggui was there, still with his usual憨笑 (simple, honest smile). My mother's newborn baby was asleep in an old swaddle on the kang (heated brick bed). My mother sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), ordering He Yonggui to bring me tea and water. If He Yonggui was slow, my mother would gently scold him, already acting like the lady of the house. This was something my mother had never experienced before; when my father lived with us, he never did any chores. Seeing this, I was filled with emotion. After the old woman returned with Baogen, my mother and He Yonggui started cooking dinner. The old woman sat on the kang, coaxing Baogen and her grandson. Amidst the rising smoke and steam, I felt a sense of peace and tranquility.

With the new addition to the family, the two mud-brick rooms suddenly felt cramped. Originally, my mother and He Yonggui shared one room, and the old woman and her grandson shared the other. With my arrival, we had to arrange for my mother and the old woman to share the other room with the grandson, while I continued to share with He Yonggui. Now that my mom is his wife, I can't drug her anymore. That way, He Yonggui can't go over there to sleep with my mom in the middle of the night anymore. I was really looking forward to seeing them make love, but I didn't get to see it before I left. However, looking at how plump and mature my mom is now, I guess they were quite harmonious when I wasn't around.

I stayed at my mother's house for four days, then rushed back home before the New Year to prepare for work after the holiday. However, during those days at my mother's house, I kept thinking: Was my mother's marriage to someone from Henan a reluctant compromise, or a fortunate coincidence? Is there a clear answer to all these questions? I couldn't figure it out. That

concludes my account of my mother's main experiences. From 2009 until now, I've visited Henan several times on and off. Each time I went, my mother's two children grew a little older; they've already learned to call me "brother." My mother, on the other hand, is becoming more and more like a typical Henan peasant woman, wearing peasant clothes, doing peasant work, chatting and visiting other peasant women in the village, even making lewd jokes—things she would never do back in her hometown. During the 2013 Spring Festival, which was my most recent trip to Henan, I even noticed a distinct Henan accent in my mother's voice. Words like "zhong" and "ren" had somehow become part of her everyday speech.

Perhaps my mother's life will continue peacefully and quietly like this, though it's much poorer than when she lived in our hometown. But I feel she's fulfilled and content. However, life is unpredictable; who knows what might happen in the future? Nobody can say for sure.

(60325 words)

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