The Four Books (31 page)

“Why didn’t the stalks produce ears?”

The Author went to take a look, and found a swarm of blood-fed mosquitoes that were even larger than flies, and flies that were the size of small birds. Everyone pointed at the Author with their bloody fingers, asking, “Why?” Some people spit on the ground and asked “Why?” Others spit at the Author’s face and threw stones at his back.

Seeing this, the Child asked the Author, “Please explain, why is it that these corn plants, after drinking human blood, have stems as thick as trees, but haven’t even produced ears as thick as a man’s finger?”

The Author couldn’t answer. The crowd standing in front of him spit in disgust.

The spirits observed all of this, and resented the people’s absurdity. Then it began to rain, producing torrential floods. It rained through the night, and when everyone woke up the next morning they ran to their respective plots of corn and found that their stalks had toppled over and were now floating in puddles. The signs with each of their names on them were now drifting in the water like little boats. The people were not upset by this discovery, however, given that they already knew that the stalks would not produce ears of corn that were thicker than a man’s leg. They simply thought it was too bad that they had spent the past several months cutting and bleeding their fingers for nothing. Only the Child cried. A dark cloud hung over his heart, as he wailed,

“How will I go to the capital?”

“How will I go to the capital now?”

At this point the Child was still in his room, and when he emerged, everyone around him began wailing as well. They cried inconsolably for what seemed like an eternity, whereupon the Child suddenly stopped and began running through the rain to somewhere outside the district. Alone, he ran to the steel-smelting furnace to the south of the district, to check on his own corn plants. Their stalks had been as thick as a man’s arm, with leaves as wide as banana leaves. Standing more than three meters tall, they had been veritable corn trees, though like the others, they hadn’t produced any ears of corn. Now these thick cornstalks were floating in puddles. The Author stood in the rain as the water ran down his face and body. He looked at the floating cornstalks. He picked one up and leaned it against the furnace, then turned around. He saw the Author run over and stand behind him, as though he wanted to say something, but instead fell to the ground and began to wail.

He sobbed inconsolably, for what seemed like forever.

The Author said, “I know why these corn plants only grow stalks and no ears—it is because this land is actually an imperial tomb.” He added, “That sand dune over there is not only an imperial mausoleum, it is probably an ancient imperial grave. Don’t worry, by autumn we should plant radish, cabbage, and sweet potatoes. I promise you that I can grow radishes over there that are thicker than a man’s leg. If I grow sweet potatoes, I don’t know how many I will be able to produce, but I can guarantee that there will be at least one as large as a basketball. People collecting the sweet potatoes will look like they are collecting large stones.”

The Child stopped crying and gazed at the Author without saying a word, his eyes beaming.

The Author said, “If I am able to accomplish this before winter arrives, you should give me five large stars. I’ll return home, and you can take this produce to the capital. But when I leave the ninety-ninth, you must protect me, escorting me to the town, where I can get a ride.”

The Child beamed, as though his eyes were panes of glass that had been washed clean by the rain. The rain continued to fall for several more days, drenching everything on both sides of the river.

3.
Heaven’s Child
, pp. 397–406

The downpour continued for forty days, leaving the entire land completely inundated.

Noah had completed construction of his ark, and in this way had managed to save the world’s humans and animals.

The Yellow River flooded, and water poured into the ditches that had been dug into the riverbanks when everyone was smelting steel the previous winter. The Yellow River burst its banks. This had been the river’s old course, and the salt fields were now completely flooded. The crops were completely drowned, the cornstalks were washed away, while the peas, melons, and other vegetables were all floating in the water. The buildings in each of the Re-Ed districts were flooded. Shoes were floating down the street, as were books. Everyone was trapped by the water. Finally, the rain abated and the sun came out, its light reflecting off the water’s surface. The water sparkled as if it were a sheet of metal, with the grain, building rafters, and dead livestock floating on it like so many boats.

After another seven days, the water receded and the sun shone brightly.

After another seven days and seven nights, the sandy banks were drained dry, and people could once again walk along them. The hot sun shone for yet another seven days, and the muddy ground was baked into a thick crust. There were cracks as large as a man’s finger or two. No one had anything to eat. The higher-ups donated some grain, consisting of equal amounts of flour and unrefined grain. Everyone was issued one
jin
and two
liang
of grain a day, or thirty-six
liang
of grain a month. But once the famine started, the amount donated by the higher-ups decreased from one
jin
and two
liang
per person a day to only eight
liang
a day, consisting of six
liang
of unrefined cornmeal and only two
liang
of flour. As a result, everyone in Re-Ed went from having three meals a day to only two.

Three months later, the situation became even more dire. With the arrival of winter, everyone’s stockpiles of rice and flour were gone, and instead everyone was issued some unrefined grain or cornmeal.

There wasn’t enough to eat, and as a result the land was swept by famine.

The higher-ups ordered that, in order to conserve grain, everyone should spend the winter indoors without moving, like cats, eating only one meal a day, consisting of a two-
liang
black bun and a bowl of cornmeal broth. They quickly reached the point where they had to lean against the wall when they tried to walk. Everyone’s faces and legs became swollen from hunger. When the winter sun came out, their swollen faces and legs glistened in the sunlight. Once when everyone was outside warming their swollen bodies in the sunlight, the Child walked over. His face was not swollen, though his eyes were somewhat sunken and he had a greenish complexion. “The higher-ups have notified me,” he said, “that beginning next month, everyone’s grain ration will be cut to two
liang
a day. I will be in charge of distributing the grain, and the canteen will be disbanded. You must come up with a way to cook your own food.” Everyone was warming themselves in the sun, with blank expressions. The Scholar had not come out to sun himself, but rather he had managed to find a map somewhere. The map was as large as two books, and was colored in red, green, and yellow. He stared intently at it for a long time, then approached the Child and said, “Tell everyone the truth—Is the famine limited to this area around the Yellow River, or does it extend to the entire province, or even the entire nation?”

The Child shook his head and replied, “The higher-ups say that if people are starving, they should stay where they are, and should not try to move elsewhere. If they try to move, they will be committing a crime.”

The Theologian, the Author, and several others all crowded around. They hadn’t seen the Child for several days, and assumed that he had attended a meeting with the higher-ups, where he must have learned many things.

They asked, “How large was the area affected by the flood, and how large is the area affected by the drought?”

The Child shook his head.

“All you need to know is how many provinces were smelting steel last winter.” The Child added, “The entire country was smelting steel. There wasn’t anyone who wasn’t smelting. It is said that there was even a steel-smelting furnace in Zhongnanhai.”

The Scholar rolled up the map he was holding and said, “The world has been turned upside down by this steel smelting, and this has happened on a nationwide scale. It took the strength of the whole nation. In the process of smelting steel, people have chopped down all the trees in all of the mountains, along the rivers, and in all of the villages. There is nowhere that trees have been chopped down that has not suffered either flooding or drought. And of the areas that suffered flooding or drought, there is not one that has not subsequently suffered from famine. Everyone receives two
liang
of grain a day, but by winter it is quite possible that we won’t even receive that much. No one cares any longer whether we live or die. Everyone receives two
liang
of grain a day, and it is up to them to figure out how to eat.” As the Scholar was speaking, he gazed out at the crowd, but none of them believed him. Instead, they all believed the Child. They all turned back to the Child, and saw that he had somehow grown taller, and now had some fuzz on his upper lip. He hair was also long and straggly, like a youngster who had fled hardship and returned. They saw the Child cast his gaze over them.

“Go dig some wild roots,” he said. “In the past, when we’ve gone hungry we’ve always relied on wild roots to make it through the winter.”

So it came to pass.

This is how things came to pass. And then they fell apart.

Everyone hid in their rooms and refused to come out. They wouldn’t work the fields, or do anything else. Instead, they mostly lay in bed, conserving their strength. The canteen was closed, so everyone went to see the Child to claim their grain rations, and then cooked their own food. Some people shared a pot, while others cooked in their own porcelain bowls or used their porcelain teeth-brushing cup. It was not clear where they all obtained these porcelain cups and bowls.

It had already been a long time since anyone brushed their teeth, but there was nothing they could do about it.

Nor had anyone washed their clothes, but there was nothing they could do about that, either.

They hadn’t washed their feet or socks for the entire winter, but there was nothing they could do about it.

When the sun came out, a ravenous horde emerged from the buildings and they went to the fields to look for wild vegetables. At any rate, they were still alive. Some people ate one meal a day, while others ate only one meal every two days. They picked some wild vegetables, then placed their cup or bowl on the stone, lit a fire, poured a little water, washed the wild roots they had just dug up, and placed them inside, then boiled them and ate them.

No one died.

This is how they survived the winter.

But that winter, everyone found the cold even harder to deal with than hunger. All of the trees had been chopped down to provide fuel for the steel-smelting furnaces, to the point that there wasn’t any kindling left with which to cook food. So they burned sticks and wild grass. It was also bitter cold that winter, but no one dared light a fire for warmth. Instead they stored the kindling they collected under their bed. Some people even placed it at the foot of their bed, so that they could keep warm while sleeping. No one knew where others had hidden the grain they had been issued, the same way they didn’t know where they had hidden their red blossoms and red stars.

One day followed another.

Occasionally the people living in the first row of buildings would see those in the back, and they would point in surprise, saying, “Hey, your complexion looks rather sallow. Don’t hide the grain you’ve been issued without eating it.” Those in the back row would then point at those in the front and say, “You’re the one who has been hiding grain without eating it. Look at your ankles. If you weren’t hiding your food, do you think your ankles could have gotten so swollen?” But no one starved to death. This was a tremendous accomplishment. Some people went to dig roots and pick wild vegetables. They saw that in other Re-Ed districts and other villages there were people who starved to death, and they would be placed onto a wooden door and buried in a shallow grave, whereupon their bodies would be eaten by wolves and wild dogs.

In the ninety-ninth, no one died. This was indeed a tremendous accomplishment.

But among the higher-ups, there were some who said that the country’s problems were due to the fact that foreigners—which is to say, Westerners—had grabbed China by the throat. The Chinese should hate those foreigners—those blond, blue-eyed, big-nosed foreigners. This is all because China experienced hardship and, as a result, made it through hard times by tightening their belts. In the Re-Ed district, where they previously received two
liang
a day, now they received only one. The Child was in charge of grain distributions, and each week he would issue one teeth-brushing cup full of sweet potato flour, which is to say, about six or seven
liang
, per person. With this, everyone could have a
liang
each day, and no one would starve to death. They wouldn’t starve, though it remained extremely difficult for them to survive.