Yan Lianke - The Four Books

This second ingot was removed from the furnaces that morning before dawn, and according to protocol it should have been left to cool completely until the next day, whereupon water would again be poured into the furnace. Early that morning, however, the Child had whistled and shouted, “It’s snowing. we are going to miss our chance. the ninety-ninth has finally succeeded in smelting a hundred tons of steel, and if we don’t quickly remove this last batch from the furnace and send it all to the higher-ups, we might end up being. beaten by someone else. ”

The Child stood in the doorway of his tent and shouted, “If someone else beats you. then you shouldn’t even think about earning five stars. and you shouldn’t expect to be permitted to return home for New Year’s. ”

After the Child had shouted this three times in a row, everyone immediately sprang into action — rubbing the sleep from their eyes and rushing toward the furnaces with buckets of water. The Scholar was among them, and as he walked forward, he wore the placard around his neck and the white dunce cap on his head. There was a crowd of people in front of him. The Musician had followed behind empty-handed, but when she saw that the Scholar was wearing his dunce cap, she quickly went back to retrieve her own dunce cap and placard. They arrived at an open area near a line of furnaces, and after the Child assigned each of them to their respective tasks, some went to fetch water while others went to the furnaces. They tore down the mud and stone barriers that had been erected to keep out the wind, allowing a cool breeze to blow in. At this point, the Scholar and the Musician, both wearing dunce caps and cardboard placards, had stood in front of the Child and asked,

“Where should we kneel down?”

The Child casually pointed somewhere, then returned to his room to wash his face. Distracted by the prospect of successfully smelting a hundred tons of steel, the Child hadn’t been able to sleep a wink the previous night, and instead kept the light on so that he could keep looking at those certificates and red blossoms, like a new bride looking at her bridal chamber. Just before daybreak, upon hearing the snow swirling around, the Child had blown his whistle.

Today he would definitely submit his hundred tons of steel.

The Child washed his face, then reemerged from his tent. That row of twenty-something furnaces had all been opened. Bucket after bucket of water had been brought up from the river and poured in through the flues. When the icy cold water entered the hot furnaces, the result was an earsplitting explosion, as a huge cloud of black and white smoke poured out and filled the air. The steam formed a mushroom cloud that lingered above the furnace. More than twenty columns of smoke billowed forth like clouds. The Child walked toward those clouds, like a bird soaring in the sky. He passed the first furnace, then the second, and when he reached the thirteenth — which was the largest — the Child saw the Scholar, kneeling down in front of it, just two feet from the opening, from which a steady stream of smoke was pouring out. The steam poured out of the flue and scalded the Scholar’s face. The Child walked toward the Scholar, and in the snowy-white light he saw that the Scholar was still wearing his dunce cap. In addition to the word Adulterer , written in black characters, there now also appeared the phrases National Traitor, Anti-Communist, Betrayer of the People, Insult to the Chinese People, Lacks Respect for Authority, Looks Down on the Common People, Opposes Human Civilization, Undermines the People’s Prosperity, Philanderer, Sex Addict, Abuses Children and the Elderly , and Takes the Wrong Path . Like stars in the night sky, countless additional crimes were written on the dunce cap surrounding the word Adulterer . The smoke and steam billowed forth in front of him as black ink streamed down his face. Those who were fetching water had to go to the riverbank, and when they returned they had to pass this furnace, where they would see the Scholar’s suffering and regret.

The Child turned to look for the Musician.

The Child peered under the furnace.

The Child saw that the Musician was kneeling below the furnace. She was wearing a placard and a dunce cap, and he could see her suffering, regret, and castigation. The Child was good and benevolent, and loved both the Musician and the Scholar. After momentarily resting his gaze on the Musician’s face, he turned around and excitedly said to the Scholar,

“How many blossoms do the two of you have now?”

“Fifty-two.”

“How many crimes did you write today?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“In that case, I will award you twenty-seven more blossoms.”

The Scholar’s eyes lit up. He lifted his head, and gazed gratefully at the Child. The Child was about to walk away when suddenly a gust of wind blew over from the riverbank. The wind blew the smoke from the furnace, enveloping the Child and making him stagger backward. After regaining his balance, the Child saw the Scholar still kneeling there without moving, with bright blisters all over his face. When the Child looked more carefully, he saw that the steam had scalded the Scholar’s face, leaving it covered in blisters ranging in size from small peas to large coins. The Child counted twelve blisters, and said,

“Oh. I’ll award you twelve more blossoms.”

The Scholar nodded and said, “Thank you.” He then smiled a bright, invisible smile.

4. Criminal Records , pp. 181–83 (excerpt)

Most of the time, people’s hearts are not bright and selfless. Child, you should listen to me. You really shouldn’t award the Scholar and the Musician red blossoms like this. You are generous and love them, but how can you know what the Scholar is really thinking? Among the residents of the ninety-ninth, there is no one as learned as he, nor as shrewd. His heart is as inscrutable as a well so deep that you can’t see the bottom, and no one has any idea what he is thinking. Otherwise, the Musician would not have risked being regarded as a criminal in order to be with him — despite the fact that the Scholar was kneeling there with a dunce cap on his head and a placard on his chest, having completely lost his pride and dignity. You urge us to collect black sand and smelt steel more quickly, and yet you give him ten or twenty blossoms all at once, such that they will have a hundred in almost no time. How are the others going to respond to this — those who are spending day after day injuring their arms and legs cutting down trees, and developing sores and frostbite from collecting black sand? Although the residents of the ninety-ninth are criminals, there is no one who doesn’t listen to what you have to say. But what are you going to do after their resistance and resentment reaches a breaking point and they begin to revolt? Particularly if, in this short half month, both the Scholar and the Musician receive a new blossom, as a result of which one or the other of them will be among the first group to be allowed to return home. Won’t that be perceived as going too easy on them?

Listen to me, Child. You must listen to me. Over the past few days, you must find an opportunity to dock the Scholar and the Musician ten to twenty blossoms. You certainly must not let them be part of the first group to leave the district. After all, they are adulterers who have committed grave crimes. Only in this way will you be able to serve the people, and only in this way will you be able to ensure that your authority will not be doubted, allowing you to grasp it as tightly as a divinity’s staff.

1. Heaven’s Child , pp. 270–75

So it came to pass.

Leading a procession of seven carts, the Child left the riverbank. After about twenty li the snow began to taper off and eventually stopped. The sun was still out, and the Child was overjoyed to see that the sky remained bright and the earth remained full of light. The soil was covered with salt mounds, which covered the depressions in the ground like a lid covering a pot. A tiny sparrow flew auspiciously over the road, and waited for the procession to reach it before flying farther down and chirping to show them the way. The last time they went to deliver steel, there were still a few trees along the road, but this time all that remained were dead stumps.