Tang Sheng and his mother

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The ancient nights of Chang'an, now a modern city. This ancient Tang Dynasty city in the west, apart from some faintly preserved antique architectural styles, has lost all traces of its ancient, war-torn past. Yet, after graduating from university with a degree in history, Tang Sheng, a history enthusiast, became captivated by this city. Strolling through the streets and alleys of the former Tang city, it felt like stepping into a deep historical tunnel. Looking back, he recalled Yang Guifei's captivating smile, contemplated the golden splendor of the ancient capital now silent in history, and savored the peaceful and prosperous era.

"A moon shines over Chang'an, the sound of ten thousand households pounding clothes. The autumn wind blows endlessly, always carrying the longing for Yuguan." Li Bai's poem expresses the longing of a woman for her husband on campaign and her resentment towards war. Ten years have passed since he first arrived in this familiar yet still strange city. At the moment Tang Sheng looked up at the sky outside his window, his heart seemed to be shaken by the deep echoes of time.

He gently closed his eyes, the cool air seeping into his lungs. Faintly, amidst the sound of washing clothes under the moonlight, he heard his mother's soft, mournful sighs, like a newly fallen leaf of sorrow, withering in the midnight hour.

Tang Sheng was born in an ordinary, unremarkable small town in the south. The Liuyang River flowing through the town and the Yong'an Bridge over it, like those unchanging ancient legends, though time has passed, still resonate. His father, from the northern deserts, and his mother, from the water towns of Jiangnan, were united by a twist of fate in that era, resulting in two completely different personalities within him: one from the north, free-spirited and unrestrained, connected to the north; the other from the south, delicate and melancholic, profound and sentimental. His mother was a beautiful leading lady in the county's drama troupe. She loved reading classical poetry and was a renowned star in the troupe, playing the role of Chenxiang's mother in "Chenxiang Saves His Mother."

Behind her back, countless men wanted to seduce her, or even try to provoke her. At that time, Tang Sheng's father played the tyrannical Erlang Shen in the opera. The political turmoil of those years, however, gave Tang Sheng's ordinary father an opportunity to rise above his station and change his fate. From then on, Erlang Shen married the leading actress in the troupe. After their marriage, the two lived harmoniously and peacefully. On stage, his mother was the lead, and his father a supporting role. In life, his father was like a leaf clinging to its roots, or like the moon revolving around the earth, taking on all the housework and living according to his mother's moods. But his mother would occasionally let out a soft sigh, which Tang Sheng only noticed many years later.

Especially in the early 1990s, the opera troupe disbanded, his mother returned to her hometown in the county town, while his father joined the ranks of his fellow villagers who went out to work. During this time, Tang Sheng's wife—a lecturer at a prestigious university—also joined the ranks of those "working abroad," sent overseas by her university for further studies, leaving behind their crying infant, forcing Tang Sheng to live the life of a "stay-at-home dad."

Similarly, his mother back home felt empty and lonely during this period, often lamenting in her letters that she frequently suffered from insomnia at night and inexplicable anxiety during the day. At the end of her letters, she quoted a poem: "The winding balustrade is low, the deep courtyard is locked, a weary woman combs her hair at dusk… How can she bear the many troubles under the dim light, as dusk falls, and then, another shadow appears… It's difficult to drive away, but easy to avoid, so she closes the embroidered curtains and lies down." Suddenly, a latent warmth welled up in Tang Sheng's heart, unable to be dispelled. The deliberate omission in his mother's poem—wasn't it the very essence of "Most helpless! Even if I sincerely pity you, you don't understand my pity"?

Wasn't the meaning clear? Alas! Even if your son is foolish, Mother! Your heart is understood!

In his reply, Tang Sheng wrote: "Wild geese fly in the clouds, fish swim in the water, yet this sorrowful feeling cannot be fulfilled. In the quiet, cool room, my heart aches with longing for my loved ones." With a single letter, his mother came from a thousand miles away to his side. When she emerged from the train platform, lightly made up, shyly lowering her eyes, standing before Tang Sheng, his heart was instantly stirred. His mother wore her hair in a bun, her makeup light, her beautiful black curly hair styled into soft bangs, her nose high and rounded, her fair and delicate oval face framed by clear, ethereal eyes that exuded a captivating fragrance.

"A young woman in blue, still possessing a captivating charm." For some reason, these eight words suddenly flashed through Tang Sheng's mind.

...Three months passed. His mother helped Tang Sheng with laundry, cooking, and childcare at home. Tang Sheng enjoyed a life of marital harmony, and gradually began to make a name for himself in academia. But that day, she suddenly received a call from her mother at school. The local opera enthusiasts were urging her to return home, and she finally couldn't bear it any longer.

All the way home, Tang Sheng lightly pressed the accumulator, the car speeding along, his pent-up emotions gathering like clouds. As soon as he entered the house, he put down his purse and rushed over to embrace and kiss his mother, caressing her breasts. His kisses fell like a shower of colorful petals on the woman's face, his burning tongue recklessly licking her petal-like lips.

母亲像一只娇羞的小猫，身子微微颤抖，下身热乎乎的湿润润的，嘴中似在埋怨地低吟：「你好大胆！当着孩子的面。」轻轻地推开他，回身瞧着小床前正瞪大眼睛的三岁孙儿。唐生嘿嘿笑着，捧住她的脸，热切地辗转吸吮。母亲迎视他眼中深邃灼热的光芒，全身无力地瘫软在儿子的怀抱。

几番半推半搡间，她就被剥光了衣服，全身赤裸地躺在床上。窗外皎洁的月光撒在床上，也撒在妇人燥动的心灵上。她感到了一种难以言说的愉悦，自己象一尾鱼缓慢地游动着，向着永无终点的大海深处静静地游去……「放好热水，老妈，去洗澡吧！」唐生的喊声打断了母亲的思绪。

洗浴间里，热水管「哗哗」地响起来，一会儿就放了满满的池子水。浴池里花瓣的香气随着热气蒸腾，溢得满室馨香，那香气更如春药般沁入肺腑。唐生脱下衣服，与母亲相依相偎。全身泡在热水池里，浑身被水包围着，他感觉回到了童年，温暖而潮湿的地方。一天的疲劳，就像这满屋的蒸汽顿时消散。

妇人晶莹白皙的肌肤在热水中浸泡得滑不留手，让人想起了一个词──吹弹得破。丰臀前凸后翘，小腹虽微微有些赘肉，可就这身材也绝对会让大部份女人嫉妒死了。粉色的乳晕俏立着两颗可爱的红豆。乳头虽娇小，乳峰却十分饱满粉润。

如今，这里的唐城华清池的水已流尽，杨贵妃只留下了永不退色的香泽。连唐玄宗都说过：「妃之容兮，如花斯新；妃之德兮，如玉斯温。余不忘妃，而寄意于物兮，如珠斯珍。」可眼前那在升腾雾气中沐浴着的这副丰莹的隐约胴体，不也一样生机无限地鲜活在唐生的心中吗？彷佛一枚辗转呢喃的红叶，并未远离摊开的掌心。

喔！母亲，你既使洗净铅尘，岁月流转沧桑，仍体现出优雅的淑女气质。锣鼓声里，你就是绝代的青衣，甩着水袖，眉随眼动，轻轻踩着水步，身形如云般飘浮，欲诉还休的目光流转。

其实，唐生平时很少看京剧，但母亲在票友戏迷的唆弄下，也会在乡里赶墟庙会上偶尔地串演。母亲在戏里出神入化的表演，吸引了少年时的唐生。在锣鼓「铿锵锵锵」、月琴「咿咿呀呀」声中，母亲扮着青衣，穿着罗裙，抛着水袖，任凭飘飘欲飞的衣带在身后舞动。那秋水一般的缕缕柔情，将唐生的心思搅起涟漪，一波一波荡漾开来……从此，他就喜欢上了戏里那些举手投足间妩媚灵动、流光溢彩的青衣女子。

喜欢戏中女子淡淡的忧郁和莫明的哀伤，喜欢她们温柔端庄的执着性情，喜欢她们如青草一般的清新朴素和流水一样的自然灵性……此时，屋外隐约传来电视的声响，打断了唐生的回忆沉思……他忍不住了低下头，亢奋地含住母亲乳丘上的红蕊，饥渴地吸吮。摸挲着她光滑的肌肤，炙热的男根时不时碰触到她粉嫩的腿股。母亲嘤咛一声，酡红的脸颊泛着山茶花似的娇羞，水汪汪的眼眸里尽是红颜心事。蜂乱蝶狂的情意满溢而出，流向唐生浮动的心。他老练地挑逗着，令妇人像一叶陷在漩涡里的小舟，无助地呻吟……喔，是哪个诗人说的：「何时离母亲最近，何时也就离故乡最近？」原来，女人的子宫里，就蓄藏着男人生命的秘密。他禁不住托起母亲雪白的俏臀，掰开那肥而挺翘的臀瓣，以诗人兼历史学家的眼光审视女人盆骨间掩藏三角区的深幽：两片肥嫩的大阴唇，潮潮的软软的，淫亵地向两边分开；肥嫩的肉沟里浸满了乳白色的晶莹水渍，阴毛柔顺地分布四周，似乎掩盖了岁月的沧桑，可中间颤微抖动的阴蒂似藏非藏、似隐非隐，在妇人情慾奔放之下，却澎涨涨地绽放成鲜艳的桃红色。

这是一条狭长温暖而淋满雨水的路，儿子是从这蛮荒的大水中诞生，还是在滚热的血脉里沉涸？母亲啊，您看儿子的目光为何那麽朦胧，那麽含情？初恋时，那位在中学教语文的女老师好像曾经对自己说过：若要爱上、抚摸一个女人的深处，就要刺穿一个女人的故事。那片茂盛的绒毛掩映的牝穴，就是那桃花深处飘荡着琵琶吟。

此刻，母子俩耳鬓斯摩，卿卿我我。明天，母亲就要回到故里，鸳鸯拍水自别离。过往的岁月里，是谁，惹了儿子此生的思念。人迹匆匆，此生无奈。

Remembering the years my father was away working, on that very day, when the village, where smoke rose from the chimneys, lost power, and I could hear the faint noises and barking of dogs outside, my mother and I huddled together in bed, shivering… People say: a man's longing for a woman is like a wall, a woman's longing for a man is like a piece of paper. It was under the dim light of the village oil lamp that, Mother, you unleashed the sweet spring of love from the floodgates of my budding romance.

The night was gentle and peaceful. Mother, you returned to the way motherhood is, with your ivy-like soft arms, embracing your son under the immense pressure of the college entrance exam, soothing his wild and untamed heart; you kissed away all his shyness and timidity with your lily-like pure lips, like a sponge absorbing his churning desires.

The fields echoed with the croaking of frogs, and the air was filled with the sweet fragrance of ripe rice. In that deep night, the stars still sadly enveloped the sky. The mother held her son tightly, guiding his tender, innocent penis as it trembled and tentatively entered her body for the first time. The vigorous son thrust in and out wildly, igniting a torrential downpour of desire, finally understanding all the secrets of the mother's life tunnel.

The mother lay prone on the bed, her full breasts drooping slightly, her areolas a deep purple, like freshly baked steamed buns. The son's large glans pressed against the mother's vulva, filling the unbearable emptiness. The wet, hot spring seemed to melt and devour the boy's lust and youth. The friction of their genitals made a wet sound; the boy, oblivious to sorrow, thrust in and out recklessly, creating a passionate encounter… That one time, which forever changed the course of Tang Sheng's life, was thus frozen in time in the coordinates of life's joys and sorrows.

The passionate scenes of their past union flashed through his mind like a movie montage. Tang Sheng sighed, his left arm pulling his mother into his embrace. He kissed her lips, passionately sucking on her delicate tongue as if atonement. His right hand teased the woman's lush pubic area, his fingers sliding into the tender folds, gently probing her moist vulva, lightly brushing away all the noise, the warmth still lingering.

His mother's body could not withstand such provocation. She tilted her head back, her hands clinging to her son's neck, capturing his frequently moving tongue, happily sipping the abundant saliva her foolish son poured into her. Seeing Tang Sheng's tear-streaked face, she laughed,

"Silly boy, what's wrong? What's making you sad?"

Hearing his mother's murmur in his ear was like hearing a gentle chant. Sorrowfully, to whom could he send this love? It was as distant as the sky and the water. Tang Sheng, with a lecherous grin, said, "My dear mother, tell me, why can't I keep you here? How can life in the city be worse than in the countryside?!" He cupped his mother's white, plump breasts in his hands, filling his palms, and said, "My dear mother, your heavy breasts, holding them in my hands, feel like they're weighing heavily on my heart. I can't bear to let go for even a moment! If I let you go back, wouldn't that kill me?" Hearing her son's rambling words, his mother's face flushed with shame, but her heart was filled with joy and sweetness. Usually, she wore simple clothes at home, leaning against the door, looking back and longing to be reunited with her son. But when the time came, she couldn't bear to leave behind the poverty and tranquility of the countryside, the lively atmosphere of the opera troupe, and the enthusiastic support of the opera fans. Though her mind was filled with countless thoughts, she let out a soft moan and gasp, "You little rascal, how can you be so restless after just a quick bath..." Her body writhed like a snake in Tang Sheng's arms. Mother and son's tongues intertwined, their bodies swirling together.

Tang Sheng couldn't resist any longer. He lifted his mother close to his chest, stumbling into the bedroom, and they both fell onto the bed... He gently lifted his mother's legs, exposing her private parts in the ancient poetic allure.

Sex is a natural human desire; no one in the world is immune to lust. Since his disciple was such a lustful man, he would simply indulge in his desires. He pressed his mother down on the bed, licking her trembling skin inch by inch, supporting her with his masculine strength, pressing against her mysterious feminine home, lifting her plump, white buttocks, pressing against her, leaving her nowhere to hide. He sucked on the woman's nipples, occasionally pulling and kneading them; below, he pinched her slightly protruding clitoris, and even a light pinch aroused her breathy, panting voice: "You little devil! I've raised you all these years, and you dare to tease your mother..." Her lower body, however, shamelessly released some pale white fluid.

Tang Sheng didn't reply, parting the woman's plump, white buttocks, revealing the sparse hairs of her vulva. He couldn't resist the surge of blood and lust, thrusting his manhood inside, pumping wildly, as if firmly rooted to warm, moist soil, absorbing all the earth's nutrients. Though the mother moaned softly, her lower body swayed her hips, responding to her son's frequent thrusts. The joint emitted a rhythmic "slap, slap" sound, which, to Tang Sheng's ears, vaguely resembled the sound of peasant women washing clothes by a country stream... "A moon shines over Chang'an, ten thousand households echo with the sound of pounding flesh. The spring breeze cannot erase the lingering emotions of mother and son." This ancient poem by Li Bai, passed down through generations, should be interpreted as "the sound of pounding clothes" or "the sound of pounding flesh," to better capture its original meaning? As Tang Sheng buried himself in probing his mother's soft, yielding vulva, he thought that the poet's painstaking efforts to compose poetry were not as profound and real as his own experience of physical labor and the pleasures of love between men and women. But whether he should be "pounding the bride's vulva" or "pounding his own mother's vulva" at this moment was difficult to explain using poetry or scholarship.

These past years, constantly on the move, whether it was pursuing higher education, finding employment, seeking love, building a marriage, or finding a foothold in one's career, there was only one word: "tired." In this mortal world, everything is just dust. If a mother is a flower, she will fall and become dust; if a son is grass, he will wither and turn to dust. Since after old age we will all return to the earth, let's cherish the tender love between mother and son to the fullest… The mother beneath him was softly moaning, murmuring, and sobbing, the folds of her vagina rubbing against Tang Sheng's penis, waves of tingling pleasure washing over him like tides. Tang Sheng was no longer anxious; he would carefully cultivate this fertile field of his mother, making it rich with nourishment and vibrant with life. Like a slow-cooked soup, warm and lingering, the longer it simmers, the richer the flavor.

He thought to himself, "Mother, I'll play the role of Chenxiang this time, obeying Father's command, receiving the divine axe, fighting the wicked uncle, splitting the mountain, and thrusting into Mother's cave. Mother, I want you to know my masculine prowess, my skillful martial arts, and my powerful performance, no longer the naive child I was back then." He would sometimes grind gently, sometimes poke lightly, sometimes thrust rapidly, and sometimes advance quickly.

Mother's moans were sometimes low, sometimes high, the two petals of her peach blossom cave opening and closing with each thrust of his penis, and strands of white fluid floating in the pool.

In April, the apricot blossoms were in full bloom. But Mother, where are you, leaning against the railing all the time? I know that at home, you are lonely in your secluded chamber, your solitary figure wandering in the cycle of time, the rain has fallen on so many petals, let us not dwell on the sorrow. Today, though wind and rain blew outside, the room was filled with affection. Let your son indulge in his wanton and unrestrained nature, let him use his penis as a tool, gently caressing and slowly twisting, expressing his feelings with lust, letting passion be the brushstroke, to rediscover the boundless path of love within your vagina. Even a fleeting taste will be infinitely beautiful.

In an instant, the room was filled with spring passion, moans and gasps rising and falling like a symphony, mother and son experiencing the full spectrum of sexual pleasure. After the passion subsided, looking at the woman beneath him overflowing with desire, Tang Sheng lowered his head, kissed her cheek, and asked breathlessly, "My dear mother, was it comfortable? Was your son dutiful?" The mother was too weak to answer, only responding with her body language; her vagina convulsed violently, and a gush of hot vaginal fluid and urine suddenly gushed out.

[The End]

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