Mao recalled his third wife, the strong-willed He Zizhen, and went to the Babaoshan Cemetery to meet her spirit.

While waiting for her, Mao flipped through several books about him and He Zizhen, given by Li Min and Kong Dongmei, including Dongmei’s “Grandmother He Zizhen, First Half of Life: Battlefield Love, Foreign Hardship. Second Half of Life: Life’s Joys and Sorrows, Later Years” and “Listening to Grandmother Tell the Past”, which described connections to Yan’an, meetings at Lushan, and her quiet life in Shanghai. Memories surged in his mind, making it hard to sleep. In a half-dream, he vaguely saw a figure emerging from the distance. The figure approached, and Mao realized—it was He Zizhen. He could not help but ask, “Are you Zizhen?”

She replied: “It’s me. That night on Lushan, we parted saying we would continue talking tomorrow, but I couldn’t find you again. I still have so much to say to you.”

Mao said: “At that time, I was busy with affairs. Now we can talk. I want to ask, why did you insist on leaving me to go to the Soviet Union? You suffered so much there.”

He Zizhen said: “Leaving was my own fault. I acted out of resentment, and went to the Soviet Union in anger.”

Mao asked: “Was it because you saw my indiscretions with women and couldn’t tolerate them?”

He Zizhen: “Your status had changed. In Yan’an, you were already like an emperor. It was different from Jiangxi. My thinking couldn’t keep up; I was still in the Jiangxi mindset. That conflict arose. I am stubborn, unable to adapt. Actually, thinking back, an emperor has many consorts. Though you weren’t formally an emperor, in the Communist Party you were already like one.”

Mao said: “You were loyal and unwavering, your heart only for me. You demanded pure love, with a strong personality—a model Red Army female soldier.”

He Zizhen said: “I thought going to the Soviet Union would be a relief, but it was difficult. They didn’t treat me as a person. For disputes over the child, I resisted their authority, and they treated me like a madwoman, forcibly sending me to a mental hospital. I lived there alone for years, until 1947, when Wang Jiaxiang came to the Soviet Union to find us. After many difficulties, he finally found me and the child. Only after you agreed to my return did I regain freedom in Harbin. I saw through those Soviets—they kept leaders’ children as hostages to control the parents. I wasn’t mentally ill; the breakdown was forced on me by them.”

Mao said: “I agree, that seems to be the case.”

He Zizhen said: “In Yan’an, you chose Jiang Qing. She treated you well, that could have been fine. But look at the Cultural Revolution—you let her loose, and in the end she harmed you terribly!”

Mao said: “Jiang Qing was my dog. I let her loose; she bit harder and harder, turned into a wolfdog. Once I passed, she was arrested. My reputation was ruined. I brought it upon myself.”

He Zizhen said: “If we don’t count the unofficial ones, you had four wives in total, including the one before Kaihui. You even had a fling with Kaihui’s friend. Kaihui was completely good, without fault. You abandoned her—how hateful. As for me, you said I was loyal, but I was stubborn and couldn’t tolerate. The fourth, Jiang Qing, was truly harmful.”

Mao said: “You are right. I now understand and am preparing to confess my mistakes to the Jade Emperor, to let my soul find peace.”

He Zizhen said: “In our previous life, we were incomplete. Tonight, hearing you talk, I finally understand. I am going back now. Take care of yourself.”

She waved and gradually receded, becoming more and more indistinct until she disappeared. Mao felt a lingering sense of attachment.

NEXT: 43. Zhang Wentian (1900–1976)