money. They too had been driven out to become vagrants. Later, they said, when we have the money, we will put up a stone. But of course they never did. In 1992, the person who had been in charge of the burial even came to see me to ask for a receipt, saying he needed one to prove what had happened to the few hundred yuan they spent on the funeral.
Xi XXX, oldest son of Huang Peiying, who is buried in grave No. 98, speaking on 5 April 1994:
Back then I was a very active Red Guard in the Guanjing Alley Middle School. Actually, my mother had already succeeded in breaking out of the encirclement, but then she came back again. She took me with her, retreating by way of Tanzikou in the direction of Jiulongpo, when she was hit by a stray bullet. I was right behind her at the time. The blood just came gushing out, coloring the sandy road red. My mind went all blank, and all I could think of was: My mother won't be able to talk to us anymore, won't be able to care for us anymore. We spent three months on the grave. My second brother came and took charge of everything. He stayed at Chongqing Teacher's College. They had Rebel to the End faction POWs do all the hard labor. The POWs were brought here blindfolded to dig the pit, to fill it with earth, and to cover the grave. Then they were blindfolded once more and taken back to where they'd come from. I stood in front of the grave of my mother when the grave stone was set. I remember thinking how utterly meaningless all that factionalism was. It was as if at that moment I suddenly realized a lot of things. After that I withdrew from politics. To this day, when there's a problem or when I feel depressed, I often come here alone to sit for a while and have a smoke.
Source: "Qiang," as translated by Nancy Liu and Lawrence Sullivan and published in Chinese Studies in Philosophy, Vol. 25, No. 3, Spring 1994, pp. 6-11, 19-30. The author is a philosopher currently employed by the Social Sciences Research Center at Hainan University.