两天后的下午，看守突然叫“挟控”把我带到看守办公楼的一间屋里。

我不知道她们准备干什么。

在屋里坐了二十分钟后，广州海珠区610的主任、劳教所所长、三大队的教导员和一个队长走进来。

他们身后，是我父亲和表姐夫。

“爸爸！耀天！”我惊喜的叫道。

我的腿被折磨致残后，劳教所完全切断了我与家人的联系。这是我父亲第一次、也是唯一一次被允许来劳教所探视我。

父亲在我身边一坐下，我便张开双臂拥抱他。这是我第一次拥抱父亲。我想这个老式保守的男人会推开我。但他没有，他温和的拍拍我的背。

父亲说：“海珠区610的主任今早刚在酒楼请我喝了茶。”

（后来父亲告诉我：那610主任预先就叫他见到我时“不要问太多问题，不愉快的事情不要谈。”）

我马上问父亲：“他们有没有告诉您关于我的腿的事？”

“没有。”

我立即简洁的告诉父亲那次酷刑。

整间屋子的空气都凝固了。

讲完后我问父亲：“爸爸，您觉的看守这样用酷刑来迫害我是不是以德服人、以理服人？”

父亲大吼一声：“不！”

那一刻我真为我父亲自豪！

很多中国大陆人在那种情形下会不敢直言的。

在场的那些人都不敢吱声。我们父女可能都出乎了他们的意料。

“那些施刑的人你们处理了吗？”父亲厉声问他们。

“处理了……”三大队教导员小声说，她的眼睛看着地板。

我说：“你在撒谎。”

这时父亲突然提出要到隔壁办公室去静一下。父亲七十岁了，患有冠心病，听了我的遭遇他突然感觉呼吸困难。

那610主任、劳教所所长、三大队队长领我父亲到隔壁房间后，三大队教导员继续对我表姐夫撒谎：“她自己盘腿搞成的！谁叫她盘腿！”

那时我已明白了为什么看守在我家人到达前就先安排我坐下。因为穿着长裤和袜子，我坐着时是看不到我红肿的脚、察觉不到我腿的异样的。

十分钟后，父亲慢慢走回来，说得走了。当我想再次拥抱父亲时，他采用了另一种方式和我道别：用力和我握手，仿佛我是个大男人。

我知道他在鼓励我坚强。

表姐夫眼睛红红的叫我“想开点，想开点。”

我一瘸一瘸挪回“后院”的路上，那三大队的队长在我旁边大骂我。

我一回到牢房就哭，哭了很久。看守和“挟控”都显的很吃惊，我受酷刑时她们都没见我哭过。

一个看守试探的来问我为什么哭，我没答她。

我哭是因为开心和感恩。

父亲在我背上那温和的一拍是我三十六年来第一次体味到父爱的温暖。（待续）

(英文对照)

Two days later, the guards suddenly ordered a watching-inmate to take me to a room in the guards’ office building.

I had no idea what they were going to do.

When I had sat in the room for twenty minutes, the chief of the Haizhu District 610, the Chatou chief, the Third Brigade chief, and a Third Brigade captain walked in.

Behind them were my father and my cousin’s husband, Yaotian.

“Dad! Yaotian!” I called out in happy surprise.

Chatou had utterly cut me off from my family ever since my leg was disabled. That was the first time — and the only time — my father was allowed to visit me.

I threw my arms around my father’s neck the second he sat down beside me. This was the first time I hugged my father. I assumed the old-fashioned man would push me away. But he didn’t, just patted me gently on the back.

“The chief of the Haizhu District 610 just treated me to tea this morning,” Father started talking.

(Afterward Father told me: The chief had told him before meeting me, “Don’t ask too many questions or talk about unpleasant things when you meet Yiwen Tang.”)

“Did they tell you what happened to my leg?” I asked Father immediately.

“No.”

I thereupon related to him the torture concisely.

The air of the entire room froze.

“Dad, do you think what the guards did was reasonable?” I asked Father upon relating.

Father thundered “No!” without a second of hesitation.

How proud I was of my father at the moment!

Many mainland Chinese would have not dared to speak up in the circumstances.

All those in the room dared not utter a sound. The father and daughter might both have turned out against their expectations.

“Have you penalized the torturers?” Father asked sternly.

“Yes…” the Third Brigade chief mumbled, her eyes looking down at the floor.

“You are lying,” I said.

At this moment, Father suddenly requested a break in the next room. Father was over seventy and suffered from coronary heart disease. His breathing suddenly became difficult upon hearing what I had been through.

After the other people had guided Father to the next room, the Third Brigade chief lied to Yaotian, “She disabled herself by stupidly sitting with her legs crossed!”

By the time it had dawned on me why the guards had had me sit down before my family arrived: When I was sitting, my swollen feet inside the long trousers and socks could not be seen, and my disabled leg could not be noticed.

Father walked back slowly ten minutes later, saying he had to go. When I wished to hug him again, he adopted another way to bid me goodbye: Shake hands with me with such great strength as if I were a strong man.

I knew he was encouraging me to be tough.

Yaotian quietly said to me while holding back his tears, “Stay optimistic. Just stay optimistic.”

As I limped back to Back Yard, the Third Brigade captain swore hard at me at my side.

On getting back to the cell I cried. I cried for a long while. The guards and watching-inmates all appeared astonished. They never saw me cry as I suffered torture after torture.

A guard tentatively asked me what I was crying for. I didn’t reply.

I cried because I felt so happy and grateful.

The gentle pat my father gave me on the back was the first time I felt the warmth of paternal love in thirty-six years.
(//www.dajiyuan.com)