The Four Books Read Online Free

you . . . to go back and eat.
    “If you don’t report your production targets, I will strip you of your responsibilities. I guarantee you won’t return home for at least five years, and neither will your relatives be permitted to visit.” The Child roared this final threat.
    The four representatives proceeded to play the game, and each reported high production targets.
    So it came to pass.
    They each reported an average of six hundred jin of grain per mu . The Child was kindhearted, and didn’t curse or strike them. Instead, he just kicked the bench with his foot, and the production targets magically increased. The Scholar, the Theologian, and the Musician would all return in time to eat.
    They would wash their faces and eat their food. This is how things came to pass.
    The Child didn’t permit the Author to leave. The Child said, “Of the four, you reported the lowest production target. So, you must stay behind. I want to speak to you.” With a terrified expression, the Author stayed behind and watched as the Theologian, the Scholar, and the Musician left. The Author turned green with envy, like freshly turned soil. After waiting for them to leave, the Child closed the door. In the darkened room, he took out the picture of Mary and placed it on the table. He asked, “Who is this?” The Theologian had secretly hung the portrait at the edge of the field—from the tree surrounded by cornstalks.
    The Child took out a book consisting of seven volumes bound together with rough thread. He asked, “What is this? After I assigned the Musician as the representative of the fourth brigade, she gave me this—her composition.”
    The Child then took out that certificate with the image of the bullet. In the empty space below the bullet, there were two lines of verse: “Even if there is a thousand-year-old iron gate, in the end there will still be a need for an earthen mound.” This poem was written in bright red. The Child pointed to it and said, “This is something the Scholar had under his pillow. What does it mean?”
    The Child took out many more things and handed them to the Author, asking him to inspect each of them carefully. For instance, there was a picture of a half-naked woman, a densely written diary, the kind of ballpoint pen used by foreigners, together with a cigarette lighter of a sort that not even the Author had ever seen before. The lighter reeked of kerosene, as though a car had just driven by. Both of them inspected each item one after another, commenting extensively on each. Finally, the Child brought out a bottle of blue ink, a fountain pen, and some paper, then handed them to the Author, saying, “If you write a book, your dreams will come true. The higher-ups have agreed that you should write a book about the district.” The Child said, “You can write a really extraordinary book. The higher-ups have proposed a title, which is Criminal Records . They say that each chapter should be fifty pages long, and ask that whenever you finish fifty pages you turn them in and they will give you another fifty blank sheets of paper. They say that as long as you finish this book, not only will they allow you to return to the provincial seat to be reunited with your family, but they will have the book printed and distributed throughout the country. They will reassign you to the capital, to be the leader of the country’s writers.”
    The Child said, “Now you can go. Of all the people in the ninety-ninth, you are the one in whom the higher-ups have the most confidence.”
    As the Author was about to leave, he turned and said, “The production targets we originally reported were too low. I now wish to report that we will produce eight hundred jin !”
    The Child smiled at him. The sun was golden. Dense fog was swirling across the land. The courtyard reverberated with a sharp, piercing sound of a whistle summoning people to work the fields.
    4. Heaven’s Child , pp. 43–48
    The whistle blew, and the sound