Xiao Zisheng, also known as Xiao Yu, was Mao Zedong’s closest friend in his youth. Together they founded the “New People’s Study Society,” with Xiao serving as general secretary and Mao as secretary. They also initiated the movement in Changsha to study and work in France. Mao advocated revolution; Xiao favored reform. After the 1927 split between the Nationalists and Communists, Mao and Xiao ceased contact. Xiao went to France, and in 1952 moved to Uruguay, where he ran a library and worked in education. He died in Uruguay in 1976.

More than forty years after his death, Mao often thought of Xiao, recalling their conversations about heaven and earth, regretting that after fifty years of separation they never met again. Remembering that the Jade Emperor had permitted him to repent before the grand judgment to the souls who had died directly or indirectly because of him—his final verdict to depend on the effectiveness of his repentance—Mao wished to see his old friend Xiao Zisheng again. When the two old friends met, they were especially warm and excited, shaking hands fervently. Tears filled their eyes.

Xiao said, “Brother Runzhi, I never imagined that ninety years after we parted, you would still want to see me.”

Mao replied, “Of course, of course. Brother Xudong, in fact I am only eight months older than you, and when we studied you were two grades above me—you were my senior. Your father was my teacher. Your younger brother Xiao San once lent me Biographies of World Heroes. That book influenced the course of my life.”

Xiao said, “Do you remember our all-night discussions about the future of the nation? You advocated revolution; I advocated reform. You wanted to follow Russia’s path; I opposed it. We debated for years, and neither of us could persuade the other.”

Mao said, “Though we argued fiercely, even to tears. You were gentle and compassionate; I nicknamed you ‘Bodhisattva Xiao.’”

Xiao said, “Do you remember the summer of 1917? Disguised as beggars, holding umbrellas and carrying small bundles, without a penny on us, we traveled for a month by begging, walking through several counties, overcoming many difficulties, meeting many people, having interesting conversations, gaining much knowledge.”

Mao said, “Now, revisiting that old dream, I cannot forget those days and nights when the two of us roamed freely together.”

Xiao said, “Three years of begging—better to beg than to be an official. Begging is the freest; without office one is light. For a month we carried no money, yet returned safely, with so many interesting experiences.”

Mao said, “In the old society one could survive by begging. In the new society under my rule, that was impossible. During the three years of famine, I forbade ‘blind drifters.’ Even if starving, people had to remain in their villages, so the outside world would not know of starvation deaths. But that is another story.”

Xiao said, “Do you remember our discussion about free sheep and the government as shepherd?”

Mao replied, “Of course. I believed the government must be the shepherd—a strong shepherd—so the people could be organized.”

Xiao said, “I believed that if government became too strong, it would harm people’s freedom. The people are like sheep, but they should be the masters; government the servant. If people rely on government to manage them, they lose freedom. We saw cows grazing peacefully, until a cowherd with a whip appeared; the cows scattered in fear and could not eat calmly.”

Mao said, “Cattle must be controlled, whipped if necessary. The shepherd cannot be weak. Government must be strong.”

Xiao said, “But if government becomes tyrannical, the cattle and sheep will rise up in resistance!”

Mao replied, “If they resist, suppress them—no politeness.”

Mao added, “Do you remember the beautiful young innkeeper? She was interesting and even read our fortunes.”

Xiao laughed, “Of course. She came from a family of poets and scholars—no wonder she could analyze characters and read faces. Her fortune-telling was amusing.”

Mao said, “When she asked my surname and I said Mao, she exclaimed that it was ominous—Hong Xiuquan was called ‘Long Hair,’ Yuan Shikai nicknamed ‘Mao Monkey,’ and now I too was Mao. She said I might become a great official, a prime minister, or a bandit king—but also that I lacked warmth, could kill tens of thousands without emotion, and if I survived past thirty-five and then fifty-five, my fortune would flourish. She even predicted at least six wives and few children.”

Xiao laughed. “She truly sketched your life.”

Mao said, “She said you were different—like a Taoist recluse, gentle as clear water compared to my strong liquor. She predicted you would wander far and marry twice.”

Xiao said, “She was partly right. I did marry twice.”

They recalled how she said Mao would forget her entirely if he ever rose to power.

Xiao continued, “At the end of our journey, when we returned by boat to Changsha, I wanted to repay the boatman the four copper coins we once owed him. You said there was no need.”

Mao said, “What’s past is past—no need to stir things up.”

Xiao said, “I felt then you lacked gratitude.”

They reminisced about organizing the work-study movement in France, Xiao going abroad while Mao stayed behind. Xiao said Mao chose to remain because he had no money, lacked language skills, and because China was fertile ground for organizing a political movement.

Mao agreed. “You and Cai Hesen found me work at Peking University’s library. I was grateful, but after six months I returned to Changsha. That was where I could act.”

Xiao said that upon returning from Paris in 1921, he found the New People’s Study Society had become essentially a vehicle for the Communist Youth League, and Mao wanted him to leave because his presence hindered the organization.

Mao admitted he believed only by following Russia could China be transformed, with Russian funds and guidance.

Xiao warned that following Russia would bring catastrophe and total control over daily life. Mao insisted that revolution required sacrifice and swift action. Xiao maintained that violent revolution would lead to tyranny, while reform through education and gradual change, though slow, would have lasting effects.

They debated for months. Mao invited Xiao to attend the founding congress of the Communist Party in Shanghai in 1921, but Xiao declined, unwilling to bear responsibility for what might follow.

Mao said he believed the Party could rule China within decades. Xiao replied that even if so, it would not benefit the Chinese people.

They parted ways after the Party’s founding. Xiao later held various academic and governmental posts, attempted unsuccessfully to rescue Yang Kaihui in 1930, and eventually moved abroad, spending his final years managing a Chinese international library in Uruguay.

Mao asked why Xiao had not returned after 1949. Xiao answered that they had lost contact, and he doubted Mao would welcome him; moreover, he distrusted the Soviet model and feared suffering like those persecuted in the Anti-Rightist Campaign and Cultural Revolution.

Mao defended himself, saying that once on Stalin’s path, inertia carried him forward.

Xiao asked whether Mao had truly reflected. Mao replied insincerely that he recognized following Russia had brought disaster—millions dead and civilization destroyed—and that Xiao’s reformist path seemed correct.

Xiao said that after Mao’s death, Deng Xiaoping effectively overturned the Russian path through reform and opening, though without saying so openly. He urged Mao to repent publicly, since Mao’s harmful legacy still persisted in his successors.

Mao again perfunctorily promised repentance and sought the Jade Emperor’s forgiveness.

Xiao said, “May you fulfill your promise, and not merely speak of it.”

After their long conversation, reminiscing freely, Mao felt Xiao was still the same “Bodhisattva Xiao.” The two old friends talked at length, reluctant to part, but in the end they had to say farewell.

NEXT: 72. Zhou Yang (1908–1989)