In the third year of the famine, my five-year-old son was so hungry that he went to drink slop. My husband’s childhood sweetheart mistook him for a thief and beat him within an inch of his life.
Frantically searching for ration coupons to exchange for money to get my son medical care, I discovered that even the coupons I’d hidden had been taken by my husband to support his childhood sweetheart.
Trembling with anger, I immediately took my son to confront them both.
Liang Zhengyan drove me out of the house without a trace of shame, sneering,
“You two can go hungry, but Xiaomei has to study. Of course she can’t study on an empty stomach!”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“But Xiaobao hasn’t had a proper meal in three days! He’s been beaten so badly he can’t move. Even if he doesn’t need food, he needs a doctor, ”
Before I could finish, Liang Zhengyan shot me a cold look.
“What are you pretending for? I was the one who beat Xiaobao. I know how hard I hit him. He’s just a little kid, but he stole food. He needs to learn his lesson!”
With that, he ignored me, shut the wooden door, and began studying with Yang Mei.
My son didn’t make it home. He starved to death on the road. Completely shattered and despairing, I resolved to leave Liang Zhengyan.
But when I climbed onto the motorcycle of the village Party secretary, who had recently left the army, Liang Zhengyan regretted everything.
