编辑文：
Deng Wan put it in the palm of his hand and said, "fried is delicious." The worm was white and shaped like an oval meatball; one side was scratched by a saw; a pair of small, black fangs protruded from the front; the only black hard part of the worm. Deng Wan said that the wood insect was bitten by two front teeth and lived in the woods all his life. I think it's interesting that woodworms spend their whole lives in holes in wood and know nothing about the outside world. What could be the meaning of such a life? Soon, some villagers began to ask me to treat their diseases. One reason is that I have recovered my cousin Tian's wife's stomachache; the other is that I have cured a patient of postpartum hemorrhage. She was pale and frail, and many thought she would die. I gave her an iron dose of vitamin C, which she's increasing every day, and she'll be able to do housework soon. Soon, the family held a party for the baby on his one month birthday. The Deng family and I were invited. I gave them 10 Duns of red packets, more than the total cost of my three people 8 Duns, including drug visits. I was asked to treat a child who fell from a tree and broke his right thumb bone. The child's aunt is a famous "goddess" in the local area. Many villagers around asked her to make divination. She is blind, but every time she divines, she can catch mosquitoes, flies or other insects, saying it is because of evil. It's amazing! The caller relayed her words and asked me to help her nephew as much as I could, and she would pay. She is known to have money. I went to the sick boy's house and found a man

原文：
Family Letters Conveyed Sorrow and Joy

I had fled to Vietnam alone, my wife had narrowly escaped to Hong Kong, and my parents,
siblings and little daughter all were in Guangzhou. What was their current situation? Although they
were in difficulty, they were more concerned about me who had fled to an “uncivilized place” with no
kin or relatives and a language barrier. Thus separated, all of us lived with worry and anxiety.
Therefore, whenever I got a chance, I would request someone to help send a letter from Dongxing to
Guangzhou to inform the family of my "peace”, although it was not a real peace.
I dared not send a letter directly to my home address. Even when I asked someone to mail my
letter from Dongxing, it was sent to a different address arranged by my sisters. For a long time I could
only mail letters to friends in Guangzhou, but could not receive letters until I had moved to Tien Yen.
I remained friendly with Uncle Ching who still lived in his evacuation hut at the west side of
Dong Hoa. Learning that Uncle Ching had relatives in China, I asked if he would accept letters for me
from Guangzhou. He promised readily, and gave me his postal address in Tien Yen Town. In this way, I
could receive family letters directly from Guangzhou. Later my sister found a returned overseas
Chinese from Vietnam who lived Guangzhou and begged him to receive my letters. The old man
agreed, so then I could mail letters from Vietnam to Guangzhou directly. However, the address was
used only three times and then closed when the old man was questioned by police.
I used Uncle Ching’s address for several years. After I was detained by the police, Uncle Ching
still received two or three letters from my family. But he could not risk handing them to me nor could
he reply. I realized my parents and family were in great anxiety, not knowing if I were dead or alive.
Since I could mail letters directly from Tien Yen or Haiphong to Hong Kong, I was trying to find
someone to receive letters to me from Hong Kong. At first Feng Gang of Haiphong was willing to help
and received and forwarded a few letters to me. This arrangement had to be terminated after the fiasco
involving the sea captain. Later I found an old gentleman in Tien Yen who had friend in Hong Kong
willing to help. This allowed me to resume communicating with my wife Yu Ou and my sister and,
hopefully, end years of mutual anxiety.
But one day I received a letter from Yu Ou, saying, "Day after day, a couple of years passed
quickly, my situation has become more and more difficult. I felt helpless as a woman. Do you
remember what we joked before? As the old saying goes: 'A man without wife is no lord at home; a
woman without husband is no lord for herself.’ Though it acts against my will, I have to think to marry
another. I'm really unfair to you, can you forgive me?"
I felt a sting in my heart, seeing the inevitable finally happening. Scenes from the past reappeared
one after another in my brain. I recalled the year at the Beijing Medical College when I wholeheartedly
concentrated on studying. More than half my schoolmates were girls, some expressing affection for me.
But I remained indifferent to focus on my studies. The Suburban District of the Medical College was in
the Eight College Zone, and the eight colleges were neighboring. Tsinghua University and Peking
University (previously Beijing Medical College was one of the colleges of Peking University) were
also not far away. Every weekend there were movies, drama performances or a dance party in Medical
School, and hordes of male students from other colleges came. We laughed and said, "There are hordes
of toads coming who want to eat swan meat!" However, I myself remained stoic. As the saying goes:
“Sitting in a waterfront pavilion gets the moonlight first”, but I had no desire even to look at the moon.
The only female face occasionally appearing in my mind at that time was Yu Ou. Whenever I
thought of her innocence and her being persecuted and aggrieved because of religious belief, I could
feel the pain of that injustice. After her release, rejecting all dissuasion and warnings, I was determined
to marry her. We wished to let the past be past, and begin our lives anew.
Together we imagined our future: I would apply for a job back in Guangzhou and become a
doctor in a community clinic. As I worked earnestly to heal patients they, in turn, would be good to me.
Yu Ou would continue to bring plastic dolls home from the street service station to paint, providing a
modest but flexible income. If she could get another suitable job, that would be even better. Hopefully,
through our hard work, we would build a better life together. Anyway, our goals were simple and
seemed realistic.
We soon encountered cold reality. In order not to be separated for a long time, so called "until
reaching the age of white hair" (the popular saying at that time), we had asked friends to help find a job
opportunity for me in or near Guangzhou. But my application was rejected again and again because my
wife was a "released counter revolutionary”. Yu Ou was under “masses control” and the incantation of
Golden Hoop (government control) was getting more and more frequent. Then disaster hit like a bolt
from the blue, the ruthless bar of the Cultural Revolution forcing us to fly like mandarin ducks in
separate directions.
I realized now that her desire to remarry was out of desperation. Alone in Hong Kong (by local
custom she was still called "Mrs. Zeng"), how could she continue to cope with daily life and social
pressure? Missing and hunting her caged husband and daughter, her various attempts to rescue me had
ended in failure. My exile seemed nowhere near an end and more danger could lie ahead. What reason
could I give to demand that my beloved one spend her youthful years waiting hopelessly?
With a heavy heart I replied, "I understand very well and entirely agree with you. Wish you
happiness forever."
Respectful of Catholic marriage laws, she contacted Father O'Mara (former parish priest in
Guangzhou deported to Hong Kong by Chinese Communists) who consulted with the bishop’s office.
It was determined this was a special case of exceptional circumstances and Yu Ou was permitted to
remarry. A few years later Yu Ou and her family immigrated to Canada where they enjoyed a happy
life. After my family and I immigrated to the United States, Yu Ou and I got in touch and gave thanks
to God for his mercy.
One Sunday after I had just finished treating a patient in Uncle Daan’s hut, my friend came from
the town bringing me a letter from Hong Kong. Glancing at the envelope, I was pleasantly surprised to
see my third brother’s handwriting!
I could not wait to open it. Brother Third wrote of his arrival in Hong Kong by “waterway”! I
certainly knew that meant he fled by swimming. The letter was very simple. However, it was enough!
Years later I learned that he and a zhiqing classmate, after a seven-day journey of hiding by day and
walking by night in the mountains (my own experience, so I was fully aware of its hardship and
dangers). They had entered the sea somewhere in Bao-an County and swam for a few hours,
successfully arriving in Hong Kong.
I could mentally picture my strong and tall third brother (he is 1.88 meters tall) and his classmate
proceeding bravely together to the sea and resolutely swimming to a future of freedom. I closed my
eyes and lifted my head up to heaven: Another family member escaped successfully. Thank God for His
Providence again.
I recalled many years later that during the 10-year calamity of the Cultural Revolution, I
experienced a world of suffering and hardship, but there were three events that made me happy - very
happy: the first was Yu Ou successfully fleeing to Hong Kong; the second was receiving this letter from
my third brother; but the third was yet to come.
Seeking Refuge with ‘Cousins’ in Bac Giang
Dong Hoa villagers were kind and friendly. But there were always several border-crossed Chinese
drawing attention from the Vietnamese police. After escaping several raids, Deng Er, Deng Wan and I
wanted to find an alternate place to stay. Deng Er had a distant aunt in Bac Giang Province. He and
Deng Wan had visited her several times and recently someone there requested them to do carpentry. I
asked to go with them.
Deng Er was reluctant at first, worried that my practice of medicine might attract attention of the
police. I proposed to go and see, saying that if the situation was suitable, I could apply for a moving
permit to officially settle down. Deng Er talked with Deng Wan and they agreed that I could try. They
also realized that if they themselves fell ill, being undocumented, it would be difficult to get medical
care. So my presence would benefit them as well. They agreed that I could accompany them.
We were going to Coffee Village of X Commune, X County, Bac Giang Province, more than a
hundred kilometers away from Tien Yen. It took about two days on our bicycles. The two Dengs
brought their carpentry tools; I brought two packets of medicine. We prepared dry food and water and
simple baggage; we also bought dried squid or dry sand worm for gifts, because this kind of seafood
was rather rare inland. Deng Wan had just learned to ride a bike recently and his bike chain became
loose several times. Fortunately, I brought a simple kit of tools and helped him adjust the chain. We
rarely encountered another person along the way and knew not where to find a bicycle repair shop.
It was hot and we were sweating. Suddenly a heavy rain came. We put on plastic raincoats and
bamboo hats, but the water still flowed over our heads and necks. The wind blew, pulling at our
raincoats and hats, making us look somewhat ridiculous. Finally, seeing they were doing no good, we
took them off and continued to ride on.
That evening, we arrived at a small market and lodged with a relative of Deng Er. The family
treated us warmly. When we left the next day, we thanked and gave the host a packet of dry squid. At
two or three o’clock in the afternoon we arrived at Coffee Village. We boarded and lodged with two
sons of Deng Er's aunt. I followed the two Dengs to meet Cousin Da and Cousin Nee. Deng Er's aunt
lived with her youngest son.
Coffee Village included both ethnic Chinese and Vietnamese but the majority was Chinese. The
houses were scattered on hilly land and were mostly built with compacted earthen walls or muddy
bamboo mats. Residents had three meals a day, with rice porridge or yam for breakfast and lunch, and
rice for dinner. In addition to the collective labor of the production team, every family cultivated slopes
for sesame. It was said that they planted coffee trees in the past, thus the name Coffee Village. Now it
was easier just to plant sesame, which required only sowing the seeds by season and then harvesting.
No weeding was necessary because, it was said, "sesame grows faster than weed”.
The two Dengs began work at the home where they had a prior appointment. I watched them saw
wood for a while and noticed a wood worm about two centimeters long fall from a hole in the wood.