My mother and I

A word of warning: This is a fanfic. Support it if you like it, otherwise it'll be abandoned! I felt the scorching heat
as soon
as I stepped out of the dorm. It's only April; just two days ago I was wearing a down jacket. I lifted my shirt, patted my belly, and yelled "Damn!" which drew laughter from two girls passing by the gate.
But there was nothing I could do; I had to walk towards the school gate under the blazing sun.
Everything under the sun is familiar, but vibrant enough. Especially the youthful girls dotting the campus. Furthermore, I noticed some clueless guys were already wearing t-shirts and tank tops—that's ridiculous, and strangely comical. Right now, at least half the boys are gathered around various monitors watching NBA live streams. Today is a crucial game for the Rockets to advance to the playoffs, hosting the Nuggets. After defeating the Clippers on April 8th and ending their five-game losing streak, the Rockets are riding high. On the other hand, if the Spurs beat the Timberwolves, the Rockets will secure a top-seven finish. Unfortunately, today's game was somewhat disappointing. The Nuggets led by 10 points in the first half, and their shooting percentage was a crushing 59% compared to the Rockets' 36%. The third quarter saw both sides battle fiercely, with the score remaining close. When I left, the third quarter was almost halfway through. Barry received an assist from Anthony and hit a long-range three-pointer, giving the Nuggets a 66-57 lead. Yao Ming was clearly out of sorts, shooting 4-for-12 with 4 rebounds. As Van Gundy said, he was too focused on winning or losing. I'm like that too. The more you care about something, the more you lose it. I recently learned about a term called Murphy's Law.
It was the weekend, and the school gate was crowded with people. Everyone was enjoying the bright spring sunshine. I suddenly remembered this time last year when my mother came to visit me. It was during SARS, and the school was under lockdown; no outsiders or goods were allowed in. Outside the gate were layers upon layers of parents, and inside were rows of students. The anxious and desolate atmosphere made it feel like a prison visit. My mother looked at me through the iron gate, almost in tears. I pointed to the side, indicating she should walk east along the wall. After walking about five or six hundred meters, there was a corner with two sections of iron railing about two meters long on each side.
I went up and tried, and sure enough, two iron bars came off easily with a gentle bend. This was something we made during our freshman year military training. At 1.83 meters tall, it took me a lot of effort to squeeze through. Looking around and seeing no one, I thought, "Oh my god," when suddenly someone slapped my shoulder: "Which department are you from? Don't you have any manners?!" Then I was hugged, and she cried, "My child!"
Today was the same. Just as I was feeling dizzy facing a pot of "thin porridge," someone slapped my shoulder. Turning around, a fragrant lady smiled at me: "Silly girl, where are you looking?" I firmly believe that if there is any beauty that can inadvertently permeate everything in the world, it is my mother's smile: her beautiful eyes crinkled, her full lips parted, her teeth were white and gleaming, her eyes bright, full, round, and warm, and everything around her seemed to fall silent as her gaze swept over her. "Let's go, let's eat first." She took my arm and turned to leave. In that instant, I didn't even have time to call out "Mom.
" "Finished with your business?" A fragrant aroma wafted up, and I felt a little stiff.
"Not yet, we still have to talk." My mother is about 1.68 meters tall, wearing black short high heels, her steps small but light. I could hardly keep up.
"Where are we going to eat?" I took my mother's trench coat and handbag. Today, she had her hair parted to the side, pulled up in a high bun at the back of her head, simple, capable, dignified, and elegant. I could feel the gazes from all around me.
"Whatever—wait, you're asking me about your territory?" Mom nudged my ribs with her elbow and looked up at me.
I don't know if it's just my imagination, but whenever my mother goes out, she always exudes a lively aura, or rather, a mischievous and adorable one, completely different from the gentle, virtuous, and serious old woman at home. I turned my head slightly and saw her crystal-clear earlobes, snow-white neck, and the curves of her full breasts, and I couldn't help but feel flustered.
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We went into several restaurants, but they were all packed. Before we knew it, my mother and I had walked along the winding paths of the university town all the way to the town. There was a nice donkey meat restaurant opposite the town government, and it wasn't crowded at the moment, so we found a seat by the window. The proprietress rushed over to greet us, praising me for bringing a pretty lady with me. My mother just laughed and didn't say anything. In the end, we ordered the signature dish, braised donkey meat, cold tofu skin salad, and a large and a small donkey meat hot pot noodle dish.
"You seem to know this place well, do you eat here often?" My mother handed me a pack of Xinxiangyin cigarettes. I noticed she had done her nails with a natural, glossy finish.
"Ah, occasionally, the music room is quite close by." Only then did I have a chance to observe my mother closely. She wore a beige, split-hem knitted long-sleeved top with a small V-neck, revealing a slender, pink neck. She wore light gray striped casual pants with small flares, loosely covering her feet. My mother had typical sloping shoulders, a narrow waist, and wide, full hips; her torso was short and her legs long, making it difficult for her to buy ready-made clothes—especially trousers—as they were either too thick-waisted or too narrow-hipped. For many years, most of her clothes had been custom-made by Lu's. Pinghai Lu's was a long-established, family-run handicraft shop, well-known in several neighboring counties. Tracing its origins, it disappeared after the collectivization of the 1980s, reopened in the early 1980s, enjoyed a period of success, but business declined significantly in the mid-to-late 1990s. Who knew that ready-to-wear customization would become so popular in the last two years, and the name of Lu's Handmade Workshop would shine brightly again with the dawn of the new century. Anyway, what I really want to say is that my mother's pants are probably made by Lu's.
"Hey, what are you spacing out for?" My mother tilted her head and looked at her feet under the table, stamped them suspiciously, and continued, "Why don't you read more books? What's with all this useless stuff?" "Oh, here we go again." "Sigh—didn't we agree to bring that little girl to see me? Where is she?" "She has class." "You're just lying to this old woman, aren't you? What class on Saturday?" "She really does have class. There are plenty of lousy teachers out there, you know that." This was the truth; we had a civil law class today, but most of the students skipped it to watch the game.
"I really didn't know. Tell me how bad the teacher is," my mother snorted, pouting. "What did she call her?" "Chen Yao, how many times have I told her?"
"Oh, you're already getting impatient? I haven't even married her yet, and you're already kicking me out?" My mother raised an eyebrow, bringing her face closer across the table, scrutinizing me intently. So close, I could see the beads of sweat on her forehead, even her long, curled eyelashes were clearly visible. Those familiar peach blossom eyes were slightly swollen, a captivating blush around them, her thick, straight eyebrows were gently furrowed, playfully raised, her delicate nose was small and fleshy, slightly upturned, and her full, moist lips—they seemed unchanged all these years. My mother wore light makeup, her skin still fair and firm, her plump oval face glowing with a soft luster. Whether it was blush or the heat, her pretty face was flushed, making my heart skip a beat.
I wanted to say something witty, but I was at a loss for words. I could only wipe my nose and lean back in my chair.
A few rays of sunlight swept across, making the dust motes in the air clearly visible.
"Hahaha, you!" My mother laughed, pulling her face back. In the sunlight, a few crow's feet appeared at the corners of her eyes. My mother is 42 years old this year, after all.
I unconsciously took out a cigarette, and just as I lit it, a small hand swiftly snatched it away.
"Smoking, smoking, all you do is smoke. When did you become your father? Confiscated." The cigarette case and lighter on the table also disappeared. My mother, with a stern face, put them into her handbag, her right wrist flashing with metallic light as she swiftly moved them. It was an Orient watch, a birthday gift I gave her last year. I'm ashamed to admit it was the first time I'd ever bought one. It was 25% off, over 1800 yuan, using up most of my scholarship money. This annoyed my father; every time he saw the watch, he couldn't help but accuse me of favoritism, only recognizing my mother and not my father. I could only nod vigorously amidst my mother's smug laughter: "Next time, I'll definitely make it up to you next time I get my scholarship money!" Just then, the donkey meat arrived. I handed my mother chopsticks. The proprietress winked at me, leaving me speechless. My mother carefully picked up a piece, savored it, and said, "Oh, not bad, almost as good as your grandfather's." We both burst into laughter, attracting the attention of others. My maternal grandfather was a national first-class musician, specializing in the clapper instrument. In his youth, he also played the role of a young male character. In the first few years after his retirement, unable to stay idle, he impulsively started frying donkey meat balls. To be honest, they tasted pretty good, and business was booming. The following year, his confidence swelled, and he ordered half a whole donkey's worth of braised donkey meat. As a result, every relative, friend, and neighbor received a small basin of dark, lumpy stuff.
This became my grandfather's biggest joke, brought up every holiday. My cousin even invented an idiom: "Playing the lute to a donkey."
Speaking of which, my mother's ability to run a Pingju opera troupe was entirely due to the connections my maternal grandparents had built in the industry. This trip to Pingyang was to discuss taking over the You Jin Yan Pingju School. You Jin Yan was the last disciple of Hua Yueling, a master of the Nanhua school of Pingju opera, and a fellow student of my great-grandparents; my grandfather had to call her his "aunt." Pingju schools were very popular in the 1980s and 90s; poor children and those with good natural talent would all be sent to train in them. Firstly, it was free; secondly, it offered quick training; and thirdly, compared to the fiercely competitive general education system, learning opera was a viable career path. But all of that is now history. Times have changed rapidly. Faced with the overwhelming tide of modern popular culture, the opera market has been constantly eroded, and the younger generation has no interest in these traditional, outdated, and utterly uncool things. Coupled with the development of general education and the rise of vocational education, where is there any place left for opera schools—a kind of "old-fashioned apprenticeship"? After You Jinyan's death in 2002, the Pingju school she founded became even more deserted, barely accepting any students throughout the year. When the entire school staff gathered, there were more teachers than students.
In 2001, my mother resigned from the school and traveled extensively to establish a Pingju art troupe. The start was extremely difficult, but in the last two years it has gradually stabilized and seems to be doing quite well. Last year, they contracted the former headquarters of the city's song and dance troupe, the Hongxing Theater, and demolished and rebuilt the old office building. Perhaps it was for this reason that my mother conceived the idea of taking over the Pingju school and transforming it into a comprehensive arts school. You Jinyan is a native of Pinghai, but her children all live in Pingyang, the provincial capital. Her daughter is currently the legal representative of the Pingju Opera school.
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The stir-fried noodles left us sweating profusely. My mother went to the restroom to touch up her makeup. The proprietress came over to clear the table, giggling as she asked me, "Who is this?" For some reason, I stammered, unable to give a coherent answer. The proprietress scoffed, just smiled, and didn't ask any more questions. It was past one o'clock when we left the donkey meat restaurant; the sky was a clear blue without a single cloud. My mother said she hadn't brought me much this time and was about to go into the fruit shop next door, no matter how much I pleaded. When she came out, she had a net bag filled with a few pomelos. Seeing my reluctant expression, she said, "What, you think what Mom bought isn't good enough? Not presentable enough?" I said, "What do you mean?" My mother said, "It's for Chen Yao." I pouted and didn't say anything. My mother took my arm and said, "Here, it's heavy. Don't worry, my son can eat it too, it's a return gift for the meal you treated me to." What could I say to a mother like this?
Just then, my mother's phone rang. The ringtone was a famous passage from Leng Yuefang's "The Legend of the Seal": "I seem as resilient as a pine tree in the twelfth lunar month, yet often I am alone and helpless, like a wild goose separated from its flock..." A touch of resounding strength, a touch of melancholy, blue sky, bright sunshine, and I inexplicably shivered. My mother hesitated for a few seconds before answering, saying she hadn't finished her business, and then hung up. I casually asked who it was, and my mother said it was an old classmate who wanted to meet me in Pingyang.
We arrived at the school gate without exchanging many words. It was past lunchtime, and there were far fewer people. I stood opposite my mother, feeling as if I had a thousand words in my heart, but I couldn't say them. My mother put her hand on my shoulder and patted it gently.
I looked around and asked my mother to greet my father. My mother smiled and said, "Oh my, Linlin has grown up so much!" I gave a wry, mature-beyond-my-years smile, feeling even older afterward. We stood there, speechless.
A Uyghur man selling naan bread nearby whistled with interest. My mother, clutching her chestnut-colored trench coat, wore a serene smile; her satin-like hair shone even blacker in the sunlight. Just then, "The Legend of the Seal" started playing again. My mother answered, the other person said something, and my mother said no need, she'd take a taxi. I quickly asked, "What, didn't you drive?" My mother said it was a government carpool, might as well take it, and smiled gently. My mother had bought a Picasso after getting her driver's license two years ago, making it much more convenient for performances.
I hailed a taxi. My mother patted my shoulder again, her brow furrowing slightly, and said, "Linlin, Mom's leaving now. Call me if you need anything." I hummed in agreement and nodded. She bent down and climbed into the back seat. In an instant, the hem of her knitted sweater billowed up, revealing her round, plump buttocks encased in casual trousers—large, full, and voluptuous. My throat tingled, and I unconsciously clenched the net bag in my hand.
In
1998, I was 14 years old, in the second year of junior high. I was always daydreaming, feeling the world was perfect and I had inexhaustible energy. I started to have crushes on female classmates. Searching through the crowd, my eyes would suddenly meet theirs and then quickly look away, stirring a strange yet sweet pleasure. I still remember that feeling vividly.
That spring, trouble struck my family. My father was first administratively detained for gambling, and later arrested for illegal fundraising. I hadn't seen him for several days. He spent all his time at the pig farm, saying he was taking care of the piglets, rarely coming home. Many people in the village knew that our pig farm was a gambling den; a few people from neighboring villages with spare cash often gathered there to gamble. My mother and father had argued several times about this, even getting into fights. Although my father was a scoundrel, at least he didn't hit women. Every time, a large crowd would gather in front of the house, with relatives and friends trying to dissuade them. My mother, being an intellectual, was thin-skinned and couldn't pull off the typical dramatic displays of emotion. But when my grandparents appeared and knelt in public, she had no choice but to give in. This happened repeatedly, until even I got used to it.
My grandfather was a veteran of the Korean War, and his family was well-off. In 1988, they even ran a paper mill in the village, making them a prominent figure for miles around. Their only regret was having no children. My father was adopted from a distant relative. Not being his biological son, he was spoiled from a young age, and no one dared to discipline him, resulting in a carefree and irresponsible young man. He joined the army after graduating high school and was assigned to teach physical education at the junior high school of Pinghai No. 2 Middle School after his discharge. My
parents were high school classmates, and my mother, after graduating from teachers' college, was assigned to the senior high school of the same school, which is how they met again.
To be honest, my father was handsome, tall, and fair-skinned. His years in the army had certainly matured him, and coupled with his good family background, he was quite popular with women. My mother had just ended a relationship in college, and my maternal grandmother, always restless and afraid her daughter would marry into a bad family, arranged blind dates for her every few days. My mother, with her good qualities and high standards, naturally didn't find any of them appealing. My father, upon seeing my mother, immediately launched his offensive. My mother, of course, didn't care about this man with his past misdeeds and lack of education. So, my father changed tactics, asking my grandparents to find a matchmaker to propose marriage. My maternal grandmother took one look and thought, "This young man is quite good; he's an old classmate, and his family is well-off. What else would you want if not him?" My maternal grandfather, however, sided with my mother, saying that this couldn't be forced, and that character was the most important thing in a relationship. Unfortunately, my maternal grandmother was fixated on this one man, practically declaring that he was her chosen son-in-law. My father had many bad habits, but he wasn't a bad person; in fact, he was quite honest. My mother got along with him for a while and just let things slide.
I was born in 1984, and the school allocated me a two-bedroom apartment of about 40 square meters. In 1994, with the reform of privately-run teachers, my father was relegated to a primary school. After a few days, he simply left and leased a plot of land in the orange grove at the east end of our village to build a pig farm. The following year, he built two red brick houses on the old homestead. Because of the convenient transportation and the good environment of the village, the city house was left vacant, and the whole family moved back to the village. Of course, I actually spent most of my childhood in the countryside. My mother was busy teaching, so she had to leave me with my grandparents. Later, when I went to primary school in the city, my grandfather and parents picked me up and dropped me off every day.
My father's situation made the whole family extremely anxious. My grandfather tried to pull strings everywhere, but finally received news that the main person responsible had run away, and the burden naturally fell on my father's shoulders. He would definitely have to go to jail, and how many years he would serve depended on "how much property loss he could recover for the people." "He was just unlucky, caught in the crackdown." After I went to university, I learned that my father was a victim of the new round of crackdowns after the 1997 amendment to the criminal law. My father hadn't made much money from his pig farm after several years, and with his spending on food, drink, gambling (I don't know if he actually went to prostitutes), there was hardly anything left. The family's savings, my grandparents' savings, the proceeds from selling their house (a two-bedroom apartment in the city and a house on the land), the proceeds from selling pigs, the proceeds from selling grain, and even scrap metal from the paper mill—they scrapped together everything they could, but still had a shortfall of 120,000 yuan. At that time, my maternal grandmother was hospitalized with diabetes, and my maternal grandfather still contributed 30,000 yuan. Relatives and friends, through loans and other means, made up the remaining 50,000 yuan, but we were still short 40,000 yuan. This was no small sum; my mother's monthly salary of just over 1,000 yuan was already the highest level for a public institution employee.
Creditors would frequently come to our door, sitting there all day. My grandmother cried constantly, saying it was all her fault for spoiling the child. My grandfather remained silent, just puffing on his old pipe. My grandfather was a capable man, with many connections, but after the family's misfortune, he realized there was hardly anyone he could lend money to. My mother was always busy running around, teaching classes, and when she came home, she had a stern face, saying that Yan Heping had only himself to blame.
I was the calmest one in the family. I cried a few times at first, but later I didn't care anymore. The most embarrassing thing was being pointed at and gossiped about in the village. At that time, a new teacher came to the school, teaching geography and also physical education. At his urging, I joined the school track and field team, and I had to be at school for training every morning at 5:30. My mother would get up at 4:00, make me breakfast, and then go back to sleep. She hadn't exercised in a long time; aside from the blanket exercises, she used to practice leg stretches and backbends without fail, summer or winter. One day, after hurriedly finishing breakfast, I was cycling almost to the village entrance when I realized I had forgotten my knee pads. For safety, the coach required knee pads for weighted squats.
There was still time, so I rushed home. I saw the kitchen light was still on in the distance, but when I got to the front door, I found it was bolted from the inside. I knocked and called out "Mom!" a few times. It took my mother a while to open the door and ask why I was back again. I said I forgot my knee pads and then asked why the kitchen light was still on; I'd turned it off when I left. Just then, a tall, thin man with small eyes and a big mouth came out of the kitchen—it was my uncle. I didn't think much of it, greeted him, grabbed my knee pads, and left. My uncle was the village secretary of the neighboring village; he had some connections. His visit was definitely to discuss my father's situation. Since my father's accident, fewer relatives and friends had been visiting; before, our house was always full of guests. My uncle was a frequent visitor, and I'd heard he often went to the pig farm. To be honest, my mother didn't think highly of him and often scolded my father for hanging out with Lu Yongping. It was rare for him to come at this time.
A few days later was May Day, and the five-day citywide primary and secondary school sports meet was held at Pinghai No. 1 Middle School.
I was training for middle and long-distance running, and my coach had signed me up for the 800m and 1500m. The school's playground was packed with people. City leaders, the director of the Education Commission, the principal of No. 1 Middle School, representatives of the coaching team, sponsors, and so on—one after another, their speeches seemingly endless. This was the first time in my life I had participated in such a large-scale group event, and also the longest opening ceremony I had ever witnessed. The sun was blazing, and we were all wilted on the lawn. When the competition started, I was still in a daze. The coach hurriedly found me and said to get ready; we had to do both events in the morning.
I asked why, saying it would be exhausting. The coach said the organizing committee had decided to move the "100-meter sprint" before the closing ceremony, so the 1500-meter race, originally scheduled for the afternoon, was moved to the morning. There was no other way but to grit my teeth and run.
I drank some glucose and ran the 800-meter preliminary race, finishing second in my group—not bad. After resting for an hour, I ran the 1500-meter race, which was much easier than I had imagined. A female teacher led everyone to the teaching building to wash their faces and then took us out for a meal. I remember it clearly; I ate a huge bowl of beef noodles and still wasn't full.
After lunch, I went back to school, and the results were already out—I'd made it to the finals in both events. The coach praised me, told me to rest well, and that we'd have a "final showdown" the next afternoon.
After that, it was pretty boring. Besides the athletes and cheerleaders, there weren't many familiar classmates around. I vaguely remember running to the gym to play basketball for a while, getting really into it when some high school students chased me away. So I decided to go home. In the parking lot, I saw Bing Jie from Class 3, leaning against the fence chatting with a few boys, including Wang Weichao from the track and field team. As I passed by, I thought I heard someone call my name, but I wasn't sure, so I didn't answer. I rode incredibly fast, thinking about Bing Jie's ponytail swaying behind her as she walked, feeling both excited and melancholy.
When I got home, the front door was locked. I hadn't brought my keys to the sports meet. I stood against the wall for a while, then decided to try the neighbor's house. The house next door was recently sold. It cost 70,000 yuan to build and sold for 40,000 yuan.
However, the buyer isn't in a hurry to move in, so my grandparents are still living there for now. Ever since my father's accident, my grandfather's health has deteriorated significantly. Coupled with his chronic high blood pressure and bronchitis, he was even bedridden a couple of days ago. He must have taken my mother to the doctor that day, probably during his holiday.
There's a Chinese toon tree on the east side of the house next door, and I've climbed up and down there countless times. Knowing the way well, I quickly climbed the trunk and then the branches to the kitchen roof. Following the single-story house, I made my way into my own home. Upstairs, there were a few potted plants, but they hadn't been cared for lately, and the soil was cracked. I took out my penis and peed in each pot before going downstairs, satisfied. I was about to get something to eat in the kitchen when I heard a strange sound as I turned the corner at the top of the stairs. It was a man's panting, wheezing sound, like an old ox. My first thought was that my father had escaped from prison! I even wondered if he was injured and needed medicine and bandages like in the movies. The sound was clearly coming from my parents' bedroom. Just as I was wondering what to do, a loud slap followed by a woman's low moan. It was muffled, like something out of a sack, yet it had an indescribable quality that made my heart race and my face flush. Though I was inexperienced, I wasn't stupid. Thinking of the pornographic films I'd watched in video arcades, my mind went blank.
I tiptoed closer to the window, and this time the sounds were much richer and louder. Besides the man's panting, there were slapping sounds and the creaking of the bed. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously peeked out. The curtains weren't fully drawn, revealing a glimpse of the room. The first thing I saw was two buttocks; the upper one was dark, thin, and withered, the lower one snow-white and plump. A thick, black, gleaming white penis was moving in and out between the reddish-brown flesh, connecting the two buttocks into one. Each time the black thing pressed down, with a loud thud, the large white buttocks trembled like jelly. I stared, dumbfounded. Those tufts of glossy black hair, glistening with moisture, and bright red folds of flesh, were like a dream from last night, or like the fiery clouds of the evening—so unattainable, yet undeniably close at hand. The man's legs were spread apart, his hands braced on the bed, his back dark and shiny. The woman's slender arm gripped the edge of the bed, her long, plump, white legs slightly bent, her toes twitching restlessly. I couldn't see their faces, but I knew that the man with the crew cut was my uncle, Lu Yongping, and the woman beneath him was my mother.
Realizing this, I felt a surge of panic and wanted nothing more than to get away from this place of trouble. I carefully climbed the stairs, only to kick a porcelain bowl. The bowl contained some garlic sprouts, usually left in the stairwell, never considered an obstacle.
Today, however, it had proven its worth, tumbling down the stairs and shattering into seven or eight pieces on the floor. I froze for a moment, then turned and ran upstairs like a madman, using both hands and feet, and in no time I was at my grandmother's house. Soon, someone came upstairs; it was Lu Yongping.
He looked around and softly called out, "Xiao Lin." When no one answered, he raised his voice and called again, "Lin Lin." A moment later, my mother came upstairs, wearing a floral dress and with her hair in a ponytail. This shattered my last remaining illusion: that woman, that woman with her legs spread wide, being fucked, was my mother. Lu Yongping went up and put his arm around my mother's shoulder, whispering something. My mother impatiently pushed him away. He looked around again and called out "Lin Lin" towards my grandmother's house. Then he shrugged at my mother. My mother slapped him across the face, the echo reverberating throughout the house. Lu Yongping didn't react violently; he took out a cigarette, patted his pocket, but didn't light it. I huddled in the kitchen, watching clearly through the bamboo curtain. I wondered what would happen if they came down and found me.
I thought of my father in the cell, my elderly grandparents, and the competition tomorrow; an unprecedented fear engulfed me.
I wandered outside until seven or eight o'clock before nervously returning home. I went to Grandma's house first. She said, "Hey, your mother has been looking everywhere for you. Where did you go?" I stammered, finally saying, "I'm starving, I haven't eaten yet." Grandma went to heat up some porridge, and I grabbed a cold steamed bun and started munching on it. After the corn porridge was heated up, Grandma fried two eggs for me. Before I could even open my mouth to eat, Grandpa came back with Mother. He lifted the curtain and said, "Where did you run off to, you little rascal? You've made the whole family look for you!" I didn't say anything, chewing on my cold bun, and secretly glanced at Mother.
She was expressionless, but she clearly blinked the moment our eyes met. While I was eating, the three of them chatted. First they talked about Grandpa's illness, then about how the wheat harvest was this year, and finally they talked about Father. Mother said not to worry, the remaining 40,000 yuan had been raised. Grandpa, tapping his pipe, asked, "Where did you get it from?" Mother replied, "I borrowed 5,000 from a colleague, and my uncle from Xishuitun took out the remaining 35,000." Grandpa snorted coldly, spitting out thick phlegm, and said, "That bastard, it's all his fault! Wasn't that boss brought here by him?!" Grandma didn't speak, but started wiping away tears again. Suddenly, I felt a surge of anger, slammed down my chopsticks, jumped up, and roared,
"Damn it, I'm going to kill that bastard!"
All three of us were stunned. Grandma reacted the fastest, coming over to hug me, saying, "My silly boy." Grandpa said, "Look, look, what are you saying! He's still your uncle." Mother sat upright on the sofa, not saying a word. I glanced at Mother out of the corner of my eye, only to feel my face burning, and large tears fell onto the dining table.
The next
day, I woke up at 5 a.m. and couldn't fall back asleep. The image of the reddish-brown flesh between my mother's legs kept flashing through my mind, and I felt my penis hard, making me even more agitated. A moment later, my mother asked me what time I was getting up, since I had a competition that morning. I didn't answer, just staring blankly at the ceiling. My mother asked twice more, and when I didn't respond, she opened the door. I quickly closed my eyes. My mother knocked on the door and said, "Stop pretending, there's still the sports meet, get up quickly!" I said, "The competition doesn't start until 8 o'clock, it's still early." I lingered in bed until 6:30 before getting up. It was already bright outside. The yard was spotless, the porcelain bowl had been replaced with a new one, and even the garlic sprouts were unharmed. It was as if everything from yesterday afternoon had never happened. My mother hadn't said anything to me last night, except to tell me to wash up and go to bed early. My mother wasn't in the kitchen, but breakfast was already prepared: fried dough sticks, rice porridge, and cucumber salad.
I washed my face and was about to start eating when Lu Yongping arrived. Before I saw him, I heard his voice: "Xiao Lin, you still have a competition today, right?" I buried my head in my porridge, ignoring him. Lu Yongping smiled and sat down next to me, lighting a cigarette. After a long pause, he said, "Xiao Lin, I know it was you yesterday." I pretended to be clueless and said,
"What yesterday?" He said, "Hehe, I saw your car, forgot?" I then remembered that he had run away yesterday, and his bicycle was still left at the front door. Now, through the green curtain, I could vaguely see it stuck in the yard. I was annoyed and bit into the cucumber with a loud crunch. Lu Yongping patted my hand, sighed, and said, "Don't blame your uncle, Xiao Lin, you don't understand adult matters. Besides, I can't just lend your mother money for nothing. Your father's situation has cost hundreds of thousands, who knows when he'll be able to pay it back. Saying it's a loan is really just giving, who expects it to be returned?" I put down my chopsticks and said, "Wasn't this boss someone you brought here?" Lu Yongping was stunned for a moment:
"Who are you listening to gossip about?" I picked up another fried dough stick, chewed it, and stopped talking. Lu Yongping slammed his hand on the table:
"It's true that I brought this guy surnamed Shi here, but I brought him here to play cards. I didn't set up any companies, invest for dividends, or engage in usury, right? How can you blame me for this?" I said, "Everyone else invested money, why didn't you?" Lu Yongping said, "Why not? Didn't I invest 10,000?!" I snorted coldly and continued chewing my cucumber.
Lu Yongping laughed and said, "Alright, alright, it's all your uncle's fault. Your uncle failed to keep a close eye on your father. But we'll find a way, right? We'll find a way to get my brother Ping out of trouble, okay?" Now that I think about it, Lu Yongping was quite a formidable character. He was notorious for beating his wife and children, embezzling and accepting bribes. People frequently came to the township and county to complain, and the auditors came and went, but Lu Yongping remained unscathed. I put down my chopsticks and said, "Uncle, if you're alright, I'll be going now." Lu Yongping hurriedly grabbed me:
"Don't rush, Xiaolin, your uncle needs your help." I looked at him without speaking. Lu Yongping continued, "You can't talk about what happened yesterday. It doesn't matter if your uncle is old and ugly, but you can't ruin your mother's reputation." I stood up, looking like I was about to leave: "Do you even need to tell me that?" Lu Yongping grabbed me again: "He's your own nephew, your uncle will definitely believe you. But you're still growing, and you train a lot, so you need to make sure you get enough nutrition." As he spoke, he took out three hundred yuan and stuffed it into my hand. I hadn't expected this and was stunned for a moment. Lu Yongping said, "Take it, my dear nephew, we're all family. If you need anything in the future, just tell your uncle." I hesitated for a moment, but still took it. To be honest, although my family was okay, my mother always strictly controlled my allowance. Except for paying tuition, I had never carried this much money with me before. Besides, it was Lu Yongping's money; why not take it?
I went out with Lu Yongping and ran into my mother at the gate. Lu Yongping glanced at my mother and said,
"I'll be going now." My mother ignored him and told me to drive carefully. I didn't say anything, stood at the gate for a while, and only got on my bicycle after Lu Yongping had gone far away.
I ran into some classmates on the way, and we went to the billiards hall together for a while. One of them asked about my father, which upset me, so I rode my bike to the No. 1 Middle School. After riding around the track a couple of times, it was lunchtime again. I ate with the rest of the group, rested for a while at the gymnasium, and then the competition started. Today it was the 800m; there were 16 people who qualified, divided into two groups. I ran Group B and came in second. Half an hour later, the results came out, and I came in third, just shy of the bottom.
When I got home that evening, my mother had already prepared dinner. She asked me how my results were, and I said casually, "Not bad." My mother nodded and didn't say anything more. The silence during dinner was terrifying; thankfully, the TV was on. After dinner, just as I was about to leave, my mother called out, "Linlin." I asked, "What's wrong?" She said, "Congratulations on winning the award." I didn't say anything and went straight to my room.
The third morning was the 1500m final. I ran like the wind, and unexpectedly won the championship. The coach hugged me tightly, as if he had won himself. Everyone congratulated me, making me very embarrassed. The coach asked me to say a few words. I couldn't utter a single word for a long time. Finally, I saw Bing Jie standing in the crowd, and I immediately blushed.
That evening, my mother was very happy and cooked several dishes, inviting my grandparents over to eat together. My grandmother sighed and said,
"Linlin, you're definitely better than Heping." My grandfather quickly scolded my grandmother for saying such things. My grandmother said, "My son, I wonder when I'll be able to see him again." Her voice trembled with emotion. Grandpa said he had just asked around and the trial date had been set; we should receive the court summons after the May Day holiday. Then he told me, "Linlin, don't worry, as long as the funds raised are returned, there won't be any major problems." My mother didn't say a word throughout the whole process. As for me, I just kept my head down and worked hard.
The closing ceremony was held on the afternoon of May 5th, with awards presented by the sponsors. Like a production team distributing pork, I received two medals and two certificates. That evening, the school held a celebratory banquet, treating the entire track and field team to a meal, with most of the school leaders in attendance. There were endless speeches again, and I couldn't stand it anymore, so I secretly slipped away. On the way, I grilled two spicy skewers and ate them as I hurried home. When I got to the door, it was locked, and I immediately had a bad feeling. I took out my key and opened the door. The house was dark, with only a faint pink light coming from my parents' bedroom. I went straight to the kitchen, looked around but couldn't find anything to eat, so I made myself a packet of instant noodles. While eating, I subconsciously listened; there was no sound from my parents' bedroom. For a moment, I felt like a complete idiot, suspecting my neighbor of theft. Just
as I was finishing my noodles, I heard a noise outside, and the slow, deliberate footsteps made my heart sink. Lu Yongping lifted the curtain and walked in, her large belly protruding. This man, so thin yet with such a large belly, always surprised me. He laughed and said, "Hey, Xiao Lin, what's wrong? Haven't eaten yet?" I ignored him. He chuckled twice, pulled up a chair, and sat down next to me. "Come on, your uncle's treating you to dinner. Tell me what you want to eat." I slurped down my noodle soup. Feeling awkward, he stood up and said, "My dear nephew, if you have any troubles, tell your uncle. There's no hurdle you can't overcome." Lifting the curtain, he turned around again. "Have you run out of your nutrition allowance? If you need more, your uncle will give you some more." I said, "If you have nothing else to do, then get lost." I pushed my bicycle in and wandered around the street again. The streetlights were dim, and six out of ten were out of order.
I walked along Second Street to the north end of the village, where there were vast wheat fields. The wheat was almost ripe, scattering a sweet fragrance in the evening breeze. The distant groves of trees resembled a collage. Further away was the hydroelectric power station, brightly lit.
The sky was clear and the stars were shining brightly. A wave of sorrow washed over me, and I couldn't hold back my tears. I cried until I was trembling before my emotions calmed down. I wiped my face, cleared my nose, and turned to walk home. I
saw my mother standing at the alley entrance in the distance, but as I approached, she disappeared in a flash. Once inside the yard, my mother asked me from the kitchen why I hadn't eaten. I said I had eaten, but wasn't full. She asked what else I wanted to eat. I said I was full now and went to my room. As I took off my clothes and lay down on the bed, my mother called from the yard, "Aren't you going to wash up before sleeping?" My mother is the deputy head of the Chinese language teaching and research group. Although she's not a homeroom teacher, she teaches graduating classes, and with the college entrance exam approaching, she's quite busy. Before, I often went to my mother's to eat lunch at the teachers' canteen, but after the May Day holiday, I dutifully stayed in the student cafeteria. The food in the student cafeteria is notoriously bad; sometimes, when I couldn't resist, I would ask a day student to bring me food from outside.
Lu Yongping came to our house a few more times, and each time I was there. He would laugh and joke for a while and then leave. My mother never mentioned Lu Yongping, and I never asked about him. This seemingly non-existent person loomed over my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
One day at the end of May, I was returning from evening self-study when I ran into Lu Yongping at the alley entrance. I was riding my bike very fast, which startled him, and he quickly swerved to the side, cursing under his breath. When he saw it was me, he said, "You little rascal, you even bumped into your uncle." When I entered the yard, my mother was heading to the bathroom, wearing only my father's cotton short-sleeved shirt, which barely covered her buttocks, revealing her fair and plump legs. Seeing me come in, she was clearly surprised, said "You're back," and hurriedly went into the bathroom. As the short-sleeved shirt swayed, her two large, white buttocks seemed to leap out, bouncing a few times in the light. Only then did I realize that my mother wasn't wearing underwear. While I was still in a daze, I heard Lu Yongping's laughter behind me:
"Hey Linlin, don't block the road." After parking the car, I went to the bathroom and found that my penis was already erect. Lu Yongping said outside, "Nephew, how about some late-night snack?" For some reason, I suddenly felt a surge of hatred towards my mother from earlier. A sense of humiliation rose in my chest, making me clench my fists. I went to the kitchen to wash my hands and said to Lu Yongping, "Okay." There was a noodle shop at the street corner that also sold dog meat hot pot, located in his own house. Needless to say, the dog meat was of questionable origin. Lu Yongping was a true big eater who had tried everything, and before we even sat down, the owner rushed over to serve us.
Lu Yongping told me to order whatever I wanted, so I ordered a bottle of beer. Lu Yongping sighed, ordered a few cold dishes, two bowls of noodles, and then asked if I wanted hot pot. I said yes, why wouldn't I? The proprietress smiled obsequiously, saying,
"Linlin, you've really lucked on a good uncle."
It was past ten o'clock, and the shop was deserted, except for two people drinking near the entrance. The owner went to the back room to cook noodles, and after the proprietress brought out a few plates of cold dishes, she stood aside chatting with Lu Yongping. I don't remember what they were talking about, but Lu Yongping raised his hand and slapped the proprietress's butt a few times. She giggled and dodged to the side, saying, "You old fox, so indecent, the child is watching." The proprietress was of average appearance, with a long face and a big mouth, but the way she gestured made me instantly aroused.
Actually, I wasn't hungry at all; I picked at the noodles a few times, but didn't touch the dog meat hotpot. Lu Yongping shook his head angrily and invited the owner and proprietress to come and eat. Of course, this meal wasn't paid for in cash; as usual, it was put on Lu Yongping's tab.
After leaving the restaurant, Lu Yongping put his arm around me and said, "Xiaolin, I need to discuss something with you." I didn't respond. He leaned close to my ear and said, "What do you think of your mom?" I didn't understand what he meant. Lu Yongping added, "Her figure, what do you think of your mom's figure?" At that time, I was just starting to develop, a little over 1.6 meters tall, while Lu Yongping was probably over 1.7 meters. He hunched over, his small eyes gleaming under the streetlights: "Great! Fantastic! One in a million, no, one in hundreds of thousands, one in millions." I pushed him away and said, "What exactly are you trying to say?" Lu Yongping leaned closer to me again and whispered, "Do you want to sleep with your mom?" I threw a punch, and my uncle-in-law fell to the ground with a yelp.
The next day was Saturday. Back then, there were no two-day weekends; it was a alternating week of long and short weekends. Long weekends were a day and a half off, and short weekends were a day off. This week happened to be a long weekend. We ate lunch outside and then went hiking with some classmates. The so-called mountain was just some yellow earth slopes, full of potholes, with some jujube and persimmon trees growing on them. It was terribly hot, and I was completely exhausted when I reached the top. After drinking some water, one of the guys pulled out a pack of cigarettes, so I smoked my first cigarette. A few of us played cards under the shade of the trees for a while, and somehow the conversation turned to masturbation. One idiot started bragging about how far he could ejaculate, which of course no one believed. He then pulled down his pants and gave us a demonstration. A cool breeze blew across the mountaintop, the sun blazed brightly, and the milky white liquid traced an arc, landing on the dark blue stones. I still remember that scene vividly to this day. Those youthful days, those bright days, are perhaps destined to be remembered forever.
We didn't get down the mountain until after 5 pm, and by the time we got home it was already dark. As soon as I entered the yard, my mother rushed out, yelling at me, "Where have you been?" I calmly said I'd gone hiking. She said, her voice trembling with tears, "Yan Lin, you're still so young! Couldn't you have said goodbye?" My heart ached, and I stood in the yard for a long time, motionless. My mother snapped, "What are you staring at? Go wash up and eat!" I wolfed down my ginger noodles with a small dish of braised pork. I was starving. My mother watched TV beside me, saying nothing. CCTV was airing "The Black Hole" at the time, and everyone was glued to their screens. But my family certainly didn't have that atmosphere.
Because I ate so fast, a soybean got stuck in my bladder, and I coughed a few times. My mother then said, "Would it kill you to slow down? Nobody's going to take it from you." There was a hint of a smile in her voice. I glanced up, and her face tightened again. I hadn't seen her smile since my father's accident. The episode ended, and my mother went out. After I finished eating, I took the initiative to clear the dishes. As I reached the kitchen door, my mother came downstairs, carrying clothes that had been hung out to dry, and several sheets and duvet covers—she looked like a huge load. I tried to make conversation, "Why did you wash so much? Weren't the sheets and duvet covers just changed?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I froze. My mother hummed in response but didn't say anything more. As I placed the dishes in the sink, I felt my exhilarated spirits plummet again.
[The End]

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