Abstract
I am an unmarried young woman, twenty-nine years old this year. I would like here to talk of my experience with love, and along with millions of young people, indict the criminal acts of the Gang of Four. In the past I had a pure, genuine love. At school the superior grades of both of us were reported to the Party and we entered the Youth League, and then we were sent to a village in the countryside. During those difficult yet happy days serving on a farm we encouraged and urged each other on. The common goals of revolutionary youth brought our hearts together. During that time, one never sighed because the other was all covered with mud or had hands filled with callouses; nor did we waste time thinking about our own future family. Rather, each of us regarded the other as the source of one's own painstaking driving strength. I think, is this not what true love is?
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