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[Daughter Goes Up the Mountain] (Full) 

I stood outside the door, hesitating whether to go in.
The door was ajar, and through the crack I could see my father sleeping on the old, worn-out bed. He had slept in that bed for many years
; one leg was cracked, and a wooden slat was placed underneath.
I had slept in that bed too, from when I was very young until I was fourteen.
That year, something happened—one day, my father got drunk and suddenly hugged and kissed me. His rough, large hand
slipped inside my underwear and touched my genitals. He also rubbed my breasts, leaving a lot of saliva on them
. Luckily, he had drunk too much and fell asleep before he could take off my underwear. I was young then, and
I cried under him until dawn, my heart pounding.
The next day, my father woke up, his eyes bloodshot. He slapped himself twice, and then built
the bedroom I now sleep in next door. From then on, we slept in separate rooms, and for three years, he hasn't stepped into my room once.
My father was strong; he never let anyone lead the ox when he plowed the fields. He could hold the plow with one hand and the ox
rope with the other. If the ox misbehaved, he would give it a gentle jerk, and the end of the rope would lash its body like a whip.
My mother was also my father's ox; he plowed her body every day, making the bed creak every night. I slept
on that bed since I was little, used to the creaking sound, and used to my mother's moans and my father's panting. I used it as
a lullaby, letting myself fall asleep to the creaking sounds.
Until the man who sold mountain goods moved in next door. He was young, handsome, and had a sweet tongue. My mother was
lured away and went with him thousands of miles away.
That year, I was seven years old.
My father was a man of few words, and from that day on, he spoke even less.
My mother was my father's pride; she was the beauty of the mountain village, her slender figure like a mountain stream. My mother's marriage to my father
made all the men in the village envious. Since Mother left, she became Father's shame, so shameful that Father wouldn't even lift his head.
I don't know why Mother went with that man, I don't know what's so good about being sweet-talking, I think Father is good.
Father is poor, but Father never makes me work in the fields, Father never makes me suffer.
Last night Father was in a bad mood, and when he's in a bad mood, Father drinks, drinks a lot. So
I got up in the middle of the night to feed the cow for Father.
I saw Father in the cowshed.
Father was naked, hugging the cow, his dark back as hard as a mountain cliff. I saw Father plowing the cow like Mother
did! The cow didn't say a word, quietly plowing for Father, only occasionally shaking its head, twitching its ears
, chasing away the horseflies that bothered it.
After Father finished plowing the cow, he hugged it and cried.
I had never seen Father cry, Father never cried in front of me.
I quietly retreated, quietly went into the house. After thinking all night, I quietly made a decision.
Nobody cares about Father, but I care about Father!
Today is the fifteenth, the moon hangs bright and clear in the sky. I stand beneath the moon, letting its light cast my shadow
on the door. My heart pounds, my face burns like fire.
How embarrassing!
The crickets chirp in the corner. Dad says the crickets sing for those who cherish them. Dad sings folk songs well,
able to cross ravines and climb mountains, but he doesn't sing them; he only sings for Mom.
But Mom doesn't listen; she only desires the shiny bracelet.
I timidly touch the door with my fingertips, and it creaks open. I see Dad, snoring loudly, fast
asleep. Dad sleeps like a tyrant, his legs spread wide, taking up the entire bed. Dad's sleeping posture is like a mountain, solid and firm.
There's even a mountain between his legs, a mountain that's about to burst my shorts!
Walking towards that mountain is hard work; with each step, my heart trembles, with each step, my hands
shake. Dad mustn't wake up, he'd scare me to death!
Dad's still asleep, he's tired every day, sleeping soundly.
Standing by the bed, undressing, his legs are weak from it all…
Dad praised me, he praised me for being as white as the clouds in the sky, as fresh as the flowers by the mountain stream, he said I was as
beautiful as Mom, he told me not to be arrogant like Mom…
I won't be like Mom, Mom doesn't care about Dad, but I do.
The mountain breeze is cool, yet it makes me feel hot, hot like my whole body is turning red.
Dad mustn't wake up, I'd run away if he did.
I tiptoe to bed, tiptoe snuggle up to Dad, press my face against his chest, I dare not look at the face on the DVD,
nor dare I look at Dad's mountains.
Dad's mountains are scary.
I slip my hand inside his pants, touching Dad's mountains, my hand is right there on the mountains, climbing up the mountains is hard work, my hand
is trembling from exhaustion! Dad's mountains are like fire, warming my hand until it's numb, warming my breath until I can't breathe! You can't back down, if you back down
you'll never dare to go up again...
The mountain is your sky, and when you see your daughter, the mountain seems thicker and higher. So high it can't fit in your pants,
it comes out fiercely to scare people! Father's mountain is black, as black as a plow, without mother and father's plow there's no land to plow, how hard
it is! The girl feels sorry for him...
The girl is also land, the girl's land is for father to plow. The girl has a sweet mouth, the girl will kiss father.
Lower your head, close your eyes, stick out your tongue, lick the mountain peak, and kiss it again—father
's mountain smells strong, it's embarrassing...
Hold father's big hand to your heart, daughter and father are close, daughter's heart is connected to father! Father's hands are
rough and calloused, daughter's breasts are tender, father dares not touch them, if father touches them daughter will itch to the core
! Daughter's nipples are small, rubbing them against the body makes it itchy too.
Clumsy hands and feet climbed the mountain, daughter's tears flowed freely, daughter is made of water, daughter's tears flow to father.
Father's mountain is vast, no matter how hard he tries, it can't contain it all...
daughter's pain...
daughter is father's heart and soul, daughter's pain wakes father.
"My child! My child!"
"Father..."
"My child! My child!"
"You mustn't call out, father won't call out..."
"That's a sin... don't do it..."
**********
After hearing father's words about going up the mountain,
few words conveyed profound meaning.
Why wasn't father afraid to take the risk?
I thought:
Do things this way,
be this kind of person.
Seventeen is not young,
why can't I help my father with his work?
It's like saying: Father carries a load that weighs a thousand pounds,
I should carry eight hundred pounds.
**********
...















"Clatter... clatter..."
"Squeak... squeak..."
"Dad, this bed needs changing, the noise is so annoying..."
"Change... change..."
"Dad... is a cow better or a daughter better... Dad, tell your daughter..."
"Both are good... both are good—the cow's cunt is deep..."
"My cunt is deep too, deep enough to hold a mountain..."
"Dad, move, Dad, move... my legs and back ache..."
"Dad has the strength of a cow, I dare not move..."
"I want Dad to fuck me... I want the strength of a cow..."
"...I think about Dad every day... I'm so anxious thinking about it..."
"This child... is so wet..."
"Dad laughs at me, Dad laughs at me, I won't stand for it..."
"My child's flesh is soft... as soft as cotton..."
"Dad is strong!"
"Your dad is strong, how many more years can he fuck..."
"I'll let Dad fuck me every day, until Dad can't fuck anymore..."
"You're going to get married, you can't delay!"
"I won't get married, I'll stay with Dad... I'll let Dad fuck me..."
"...Mmm...Mmm..."
"Daddy, faster
..." "Daddy, faster..."
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy..."
"Why did Daddy pull it out! Why did Daddy pull it out..."
"It's for when you're pregnant, otherwise..."
"Daddy is so caring... Daddy, are you tired? If Daddy is tired, let me massage you..."
"Daddy isn't tired, I'll rest and come back... Daddy's worked like an ox..."
************
Daddy is like a pine tree, strong and resilient,
a brave and upright mountain porter,
I will follow you forward without hesitation.
The red light shines brightly,
illuminating my daddy's busy plowing.
Year after year, month after month, day after day, beautiful
mountains, beautiful waters, and a good porter!
[The End]

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