Yang Kaihui, also known by her courtesy name Yunjin and sobriquet Xia, was born in Bancang Township (now Kaihui Township), Changsha County, Hunan Province. She was the daughter of Yang Changji and the second wife of Mao Zedong, with whom she had three sons: Mao Anying, Mao Anqing, and Mao Anlong.

After parting from Peng Dehuai, Mao went to Kaihui Town in Changsha—Yang Kaihui’s hometown of Bancang Township—hoping to revisit old memories with her. He visited her former residence, including her own living quarters, those of her parents Yang Changji and his wife, and the homes of Mao Zedong and Yang Zhan.

During renovations in 1982, seven manuscripts and letters written by Yang Kaihui were discovered hidden in wall cracks. In 1990, an eighth manuscript was found. Starting with the last one, written on January 28, 1930, it read:

“I haven’t slept for days, I feel as if I’m going mad. I haven’t received letters for many days and wait every day with tears… I truly love him, my heavens!”

Seeing this, Mao was flooded with memories. He could not bear to read further and closed his eyes. In a hazy half-dream, he faintly saw a figure in the distance, seemingly watching him, slowly moving closer and gradually enlarging. He recognized it and was overjoyed—it was Kaihui.

He almost called out: “Who are you? Is it Kaihui?”

The figure spoke: “It is indeed me.”

Mao asked: “Where have you come from? How did you know I am here?”

Kaihui replied: “I came from afar, from the Nine Heavens where you wrote your poem ‘Butterfly Loves Flowers.’ I received news from the Jade Emperor that you would visit me tonight.”

Mao said: “I just saw your writings. You loved me so devotedly for decades—I have wronged you so!”

Kaihui said: “How I longed to see you! In life I wished to, after death I wished to, and even in heaven I often wander back at night to see if you come. But for decades I never saw you, until tonight. I am truly happy.”

Mao said: “I left you and the children to suffer, and you died so tragically. You sacrificed yourself for me. At the time, they would have spared you if you agreed to sever ties with me, but you chose martyrdom. I cannot redeem myself a hundred times over.”

Kaihui said: “I understand you acted for the nation and the people. I wished for your success. I do not mind.”

Mao said: “I succeeded in the end, I ultimately won—but you…”

Kaihui interrupted: “From heaven I saw you ascend at Tiananmen. I wept tears of joy. Even if you were busy with state affairs and could not visit me, I saw your 1957 poem ‘Butterfly Loves Flowers’ and cried in delight.”

Mao: “I feel guilty. I was always busy with war, first against Chiang Kai-shek, then against the United States in Korea, never finding time to see you.”

Kaihui: “I do not understand why you went to fight the U.S. in Korea. After finishing the civil war, establishing the new China, the country needed to recover from war, develop the economy, and improve lives. Why go to war again? And why send our son Anying?”

Mao: “I followed Stalin’s orders, to aid Kim Il-sung.”

Kaihui: “The North-South conflict in Korea was their internal matter. Kim Il-sung started the war by attacking South Korea. Why did you go to save him?”

Mao: “I was following Stalin, but I also had ambition. With three million troops, even a few hundred thousand Americans I could defeat. Victory would elevate my status in the socialist camp—next to Stalin, it would be me.”

Kaihui: “The result? Tens of thousands of our people died, Americans only tens of thousands. The war ended in stalemate. Our best child was lost—Anying died after just one month. Many still think he should not have died. I cannot rest in peace over Anying. Why did you insist on sending him? Peng Dehuai warned you: ‘Bullets have no eyes.’ Yet you stubbornly sent him.”

Mao: “I wanted him to gain battlefield experience, earn honor, train to be a future leader.”

Kaihui: “In peacetime, leadership requires ability and cultivation. Battlefield glory does not teach that. Education, practical experience, grassroots work—these build capability. You still thought in terms of war. The result: a lost child, a broken family.”

Mao: “At the time, I couldn’t think otherwise; I was still following Stalin’s model.”

Kaihui: “You spent your life following Stalin’s path, causing so many deaths—including our family. Cooperation with the Kuomintang could have been enough; they were older and could be senior, you could be second—why insist on dominance? Look at Taiwan’s prosperity under Chiang. If you had cooperated, all of China might have been as well-off. You tried to surpass the Soviet Union with the Great Leap Forward and worldwide communism. I saw the famine, so many deaths across the land, I wept endlessly. Then you purged loyal people like Peng Dehuai. I wondered why you did it. Following Stalin’s path, how many lives were lost?”

Mao: “Yes, looking back, we were deceived by Stalin, harming the nation, the people, and our own family.”

Kaihui: “I could never forgive it. Our family of five— I died first, Anlong disappeared after my death, Anying was sent to die by your command, Anqing died years later and suffered mental illness. Only later, after your death, did Deng Xiaoping abandon Stalin’s methods and revive China. You went to hell clinging to Stalin’s ways; the Jade Emperor made you reflect in the underworld.”

Mao: “I saw what you said about the Communist Party being cruel. It was inevitable—Stalin taught cruelty. The harsher, the more revolutionary. When you realized earlier, your awakening was far ahead of mine. If I had your insight, the disasters would have been less.”

Kaihui: “You read the letters I wrote to you, hidden in the walls. I called you a double rogue—both in life and in politics. Before Jinggangshan, you lied about leading the Autumn Harvest Uprising to gather troops, then led them secretly as bandits. Captured by militias, betrayed comrades, pillaged villages, murdered with impunity. When you attacked a county, you executed civilians for showing up at a rally. Even bandit chiefs were terrified. Your crimes could not be absolved, even nine lives wouldn’t suffice.”

Mao had no words.

As Kaihui prepared to leave, she said: “It’s late. I must go. I await the Jade Emperor’s just judgment.”

She drifted away. Mao watched her vanish into the distance, his heart torn with grief.

NEXT: 42. He Zizhen (1909–1984)