Excerpt from “Party Member”
When Xushan had matters near my house, he often stopped by my mother’s place. He would tell my mother that I was in good health; after returning, he would then inform me of my mother’s recent situation.
My departure from home was very sudden, so secret that even my own mother was not informed, and I went underground. That evening around six o’clock, I went out as usual to contact a comrade. At that time, although I was engaged in illegal activities, I also participated as a member of an anti-reactionary union, broadly utilizing the legal status to work from within the union as an opposition faction.
That day, the comrade I met at six o’clock told me that F, with whom I worked, had suddenly been arrested. The reason was unclear, but since I was the direct contact with him, I had to go underground immediately. I was stunned. Regarding my relationship with F, he knew I was not only a revolutionary opposition within the reactionary union but also had connections with the “Old Man” (an informal term at the time, referring to the direct leadership of the Party).
At that moment, I was about to go home to make arrangements before leaving. I thought I still had some leeway. But the comrade (the “Beard”) said:
“Stop joking around here!”
He seemed to be joking, but he spoke very seriously:
“Absolutely cannot go home. If there’s something to prepare, you can ask others to do it. There’s no choice but to leave immediately dressed in your usual clothes!”
And he also laughed:
“This isn’t a school trip!”
The “Beard” was one of the few who could speak firmly and decisively in a gentle tone. He cited some examples: some comrades, because they had nowhere to go, thought “maybe it’s still okay tonight,” and went back home to stay, only to be arrested early the next morning; others, in order to handle some urgent matters, did not fully consider the danger of being pursued, and were caught as soon as they stepped out.
He didn’t explain why it was impossible, only giving similar facts as examples. This was probably because he had experienced various situations and knew a lot about such matters.
I borrowed the only five yuan on the “Beard” and ran to the house of friends. — Later, I heard that early the next morning, four secret agents from the police station and the S Bureau came to my house to arrest me. My mother had no idea beforehand and was greatly shocked, telling them that I had gone out last night and had not yet returned. One of the “bosses” said I probably escaped upon hearing the news.
From then on, I never returned home.
When Xushan brought my message to my house, my mother, as if her own child had returned home, let him into the inner room, served tea, and stared at his face without blinking, making Xushan scratch his head and ears, feeling very embarrassed.
He told my mother what had happened after I ran away from home, paused, and my mother quickly asked:
“And then? And then?”
My mother had trouble sleeping at night. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks sunken, her head kept shaking, and her neck was thin and wrinkled.
Finally, she asked him:
“When will An Zhide come home?”
This question left Xushan speechless. When he saw her thin neck, he couldn’t tell the truth and could only say:
“Ah, probably not for a long time.”
My mother, having been arrested several times and spending “twenty-nine days” in detention each time (according to the laws of the Japanese government at the time, people detained by the police had to be sent to court within thirty days; and to detain revolutionaries long-term and interrogate them, the police often secretly transferred revolutionaries from one police station to another on the twenty-ninth day, thus not technically violating the law), had already become accustomed to it.
Especially two years ago, when I stayed in prison for eight months, my mother often sent me things, so she had come to understand my work. But she still didn’t understand why I was no longer as frank as before and let the police take me. She worried that if I escaped and was caught again, it would be worse.
Maybe I made my mother overly sad, but I could only respond to her with the actions I had to take. I knew that my sixty-year-old mother was gradually coming closer to me, and the inner painful struggle she experienced was probably even more difficult than the work we did ourselves.
My mother was originally a poor peasant from the countryside, who never even attended elementary school. But when I was at home, she began to learn the alphabet. Wearing reading glasses, bending over, putting her feet into the foot warmer in the quilt, and placing a small wooden board on the quilt, she would gather my discarded manuscript papers and practice writing on the back of them with a pencil.
I asked her with a smile:
“What are you planning to do?”
Two years ago, when I was in prison, she didn’t know how to write and didn’t write me a single letter. When she remembered, she would say:
“It’s very sad in my heart!”
After I was released, my mother saw that I had become more deeply involved in the revolutionary movement and that I would probably be arrested again. Even if not arrested, since I was released on bail, I would have to go back after sentencing. To prepare for my next imprisonment and be able to write to me, she started learning to read and write.
Before I went underground, her writing, although large and untidy, was still legible, which surprised me.
— My mother asked Xushan:
“Can I see him once?”
Xushan said it was better not to meet. My mother then said:
“Then, can’t I even write a letter?”
When I heard Xushan tell me this, I was deeply touched by her feelings. I felt sad.
When Xushan was about to leave my house, my mother handed him her jacket, shirt, underpants, and socks. Then she asked him to wait a moment and went to the kitchen. After busying there for a while, she took out five boiled eggs.
She told Xushan to tell me: one yuan can buy three or four eggs, and I should choose fresh ones and definitely eat eggs.
When I was eating eggs with Xushan and Ito, Xushan said with a smile:
“Ito, let’s each eat only one, or else the old lady will complain about us!”
Ito pretended not to understand and just wiped his eyes.
Later, Xushan wanted to go to my house again, and I told him to clearly explain to my mother: during the four or five years, I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t go home not because we were involved in leftist activities, but because those capitalist running dogs—the police—wouldn’t let me. Don’t hate me, hate this unreasonable society!
Rather than muddle through, it’s better for her to understand, so that resistance can be born from it. I knew that after some comrades were arrested, their wives or mothers, hearing that it was because of the Communist Party, would say:
“My husband or son wasn’t that ‘bad person’ originally; it’s because the police falsely accused him, saying he was a Communist.”
This would reveal from the family members’ mouths: the Communist Party is “bad,” and the Communist Party is criminal.
My sixty-year-old mother shouldn’t think or say like that. Her fifty-plus years of life had been spent in poverty’s abyss, and if I explained the reasoning in detail, I believe she could understand.
According to Xushan, my mother silently listened to these words. But she asked, since she was already sixty, if she fell ill, maybe she would die today or tomorrow, and then she wouldn’t be able to see me even once.
Xushan didn’t expect her to say such things and didn’t know how to answer.
After I heard this, I told Xushan to say to her:
“You also can’t come back then.”
“No, I can’t say that,” Xushan said, feeling embarrassed.
I thought it would be cruel to tell my mother that, but it was unavoidable. We should make her understand that her lifelong hatred of the ruling class (which was, in fact, her entire life) was something we had to instill in her.
I instructed Xushan to repeatedly explain to her: if I couldn’t even go home when she was dying, it was all because the ruling class forced me to do so.
— But when I later saw Xushan, my mind was in turmoil, and I asked him:
“How is it?”
“I told her as you said—”
Xushan said my mother had recently become thinner, her face a little pale. She only asked Xushan:
“Can I see him once?”
Suddenly, I remembered the matter of Du Zheng. When Du Zheng went underground, his mother (who was no longer just Du Zheng’s mother but the mother of the entire proletariat) told the comrades:
“Can’t I see Du Zheng anymore?”
The comrades replied:
“You can’t see him anymore.”
So I told Xushan about this.
“I understand. Don’t tell her where you live; find a place to meet her once.”
In fact, seeing the appearance of my mother, Xushan was already deeply moved.
“But the secret agents are looking for me, and doing this is already dangerous enough. What if something happens?”
However, I finally convinced Xushan. We decided on a place we had never been before, and Xushan used a car to pick up my mother.
On that day, at the appointed time, I went to that small restaurant. My mother sat across from me, sitting stiffly away from the table, looking very calm.
Seeing her dressed in her best clothes when going out, I suddenly felt an indescribable sadness from the bottom of my heart.
We didn’t speak much. My mother took out a small bundle from under the table, took out bananas, loquats, and boiled eggs. Xushan immediately wanted to leave, but my mother insisted on stuffing the eggs and bananas into his hands.
After a while, my mother spoke intermittently:
“My face has become a little fatter than when I was at home, I feel relieved!”
She said she had been dreaming almost every night recently that I was very thin, caught by the police, and “scolded” (my mother always called interrogation “scolding”). Every day she woke up from such dreams.
My mother also said that her son-in-law in Ibaraki would come to take care of her often, and told me not to worry about her.
When it came to these kinds of topics, I repeated what I had previously asked Xushan to tell her. My mother smiled and said:
“I understand!”
Suddenly, I noticed that my mother’s mind was uneasy, as if she couldn’t sit still, and her speech was unsteady.
Later, my mother finally said: when I didn’t see you, I was restless all day; but when I saw you, just thinking that I might be arrested because of this meeting made me uneasy. It’s better to go back now.
Sure enough, when my mother saw guests arriving at another table, she whispered:
“That guest seems to be okay…”
Seeing another guest, she said:
“That person looks very fierce!”
Conversely, when I unconsciously spoke loudly as I did at home, she told me to lower my voice.
My mother said that rather than meeting you with such constant worry, it’s better not to see you—just knowing that you are working well mentally makes me feel much better.
When my mother was about to leave, she said: I am sixty years old this year, and although I want to live another twenty years, to reach eighty, I am already sixty, and maybe I will die tomorrow.
Knowing that it would be very dangerous for you to come home when I am about to die, I will definitely not let you know at that time.
For ordinary people, perhaps nothing is more important than not seeing their son before death, let alone a sixty-year-old mother!
My mother’s resolve shook me with full-body excitement. I remained silent, and could only remain silent.……
As I walked out, my mother said behind me:
“I can go back alone, you be careful, go back now.”
Then suddenly, in a very worried tone:
“Your shoulder is a bit problematic… People who know you can tell from behind. You should change the habit of walking with your shoulders shaking…”
“Everyone says so.”
“Right, it’s obvious right away.”
Until we parted, my mother kept muttering as if to herself:
“It’s obvious right away.”
From then on, I severed the last remaining retreat of my personal life—the blood and flesh relationship with my mother!
In the many years to come, before the new world arrived (which was the very reason we fought), I would no longer be able to live with my mother!
