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The crew was gone, and I was back in Anwen, but my mind was restless.Such empty talk, big talk, lies couldn’t continue.But the air of pomposity grew stronger and stronger, as if it had not planned to cease at all.
Once, as a representative of the local branch of the Communist Youth League of China, I went to the Huashui Commune to take part in experience exchange meeting on corn, organized by Dongyang County.At the meeting, the first thing was to promote the fact that the entire plant of corn was precious: corn kernels can produce dozens of kinds of food; corn stalks are good fodder for cattle; corncobs can be ground into powder to replace food, and even corn husks and whiskers can be made into good food.How to achieve that? After the corn husk was peeled off, soak it in lime and water, gave it time to decompose and precipitate, then filter with gauze and dry in the sun, and finally incorporate it into cornmeal, which can then be made into a pancake.The second thing was to mobilize people to grow larger corn with all measures taken into consideration.How to grow bigger corn? Plow deep.The deeper the trough, the bigger the fruit.The first person suggested ploughing five inches deep in the ground, the second suggested ploughing a foot deep, and the third suggested ploughing two feet deep! When it was my turn, I said “I don’t understand.I can’t speak.” Later, I asked the previous speakers how to plow that deep.They said to fill the pond first and then plant the seed.I suddenly figured out the meaning of “ploughing deep”!
However, everyone knows that you can’t ride a horse drawn on a piece of paper, or eat a cake drawn on a wall.One couldn’t fill his stomach with empty words and big talk.In a short time, the free communal canteen wouldn’t be able to be sustained.The life of the common people was getting harder and harder, and there was nothing to eat.I finally got some relief food from the county, which can also be said to be the food for life.But how to divide the scarce food? The district had to organize teams to work in sections.I was drawn to one working team.We went to live in the village for a week, yet still couldn’t come up with a plan.Every family had nothing to eat, men and women were showing their hunger in their faces, and especially some of the elderly almost died of hunger.I was really sorry to see that.
Even in a situation like this, the higher-ups still organized the campaign of “Anti-concealment of production.” We were not allowed to go home for the New Year and had to go down to each village to sniff out typical cases of concealing the amount of food produced.On New Year’s Eve, I went to a village in Lengshui and needed to walk 10 li of mountain road.It snowed in the evening and began to fall heavier and heavier.It had accumulated to more than half a foot deep.I still climbed the mountain, one foot high and one foot low, my foot slipped and I fell suddenly.Below was a deep pool, several tens of feet deep.If I fell into it, I was sure to die.I was lucky.I slipped into a ditch and sat down on my butt.I struggled to get up, and I had to continue the way to the village.
Along the way, I thought a lot.I didn’t understand why we did this.It drove us away from the common people.We cadres endured hardship yet became sinners.If the common people rose up in rebellion, we would be the first to be brought down.It was unsettling to think about it.
I thought of my mom, who had died of poverty over a month ago at the end of 1961 after a lifetime of suffering from hunger and severe asthma.She worked hard all her life, and worked hard but never complained.No matter where she went, the neighborhood always spoke highly of her.Everyone said she was a good person.And yet, she never had a good day in her whole life.I felt sorry for her.
Mom was gone, leaving her old, sick husband alone.My family couldn’t make steamed bread to sell for many years now because the land had been taken over by the collective.Grain was an important material under the state monopoly of purchase and marketing.It had to be supplied by tickets.Without food stamps, one couldn’t buy food no matter how much money you had.Buying and selling grain under the table, that was speculation, a serious crime.If one was caught, he would be sent to jail.Fortunately, my father had the skills of writing couplets and framing paintings for people.Later, he made his own huqin, flutes, and other musical instruments to sell.At that time, brother, Wenhao, went to work in Xinjiang, and my sisters were married.With my mother gone, my father was alone to live a difficult life.
Thinking of these things, my heart became filled with pain.Were all people’s lives doomed to suffering? I was not afraid of difficulties or hardships in my work, but I was not willing to engage in empty talk.I was not willing to be a cadre who flattered and bragged his way up, as scorned by the common people.I might as well return to Hengdian to be a farmer, where my mind would be at ease.
As soon as I went back from the village to Anwen, I went to see the district party secretary, Li, and quit.I said that going home was also to support agriculture on the front line.Secretary Li said, “You are the backbone of the district, and the district work needs you.Don’t go home.There is a good opportunity for you to study in the provincial Youth League school.” Of course I happily accepted the offer and put away the thought of farming at home.