Beautiful Country by J.R. Thornton Read Free Book Online

down through the Minister of Sport. I sensed Madame Jiang didn’t like having someone imposed on her. As tough as Lukas had been, I knew he cared about me and wanted me to do well. It was difficult to work hard for a coach when you knew they didn’t care, and there were many days when I wished Lukas was with me in Beijing.

七
    The traffic back to the Zhangs’ was even worse than the day before. For over forty minutes we were at a dead stop. Victoria pulled a book from her purse and opened it. I asked her what she was reading. She looked up and turned the cover to me.
    â€œ One Hundred Years of Solitude ,” I read aloud. The title was written in English but the text was in Chinese.
    â€œDid you read this one before?” Victoria asked.
    â€œNo, I’ve never heard of it. Who is it by?”
    â€œBy?”
    â€œWho wrote it?”
    â€œOh,” Victoria said. “ Ma-er-ke-si . You know him? In China, now he is very popular.” Victoria pulled out her phone and toyed with it for a few seconds and then held it out to me. “You see? Number one in China now.”
    I looked at the screen and saw that Victoria had pulled up the best-seller list on a website that looked as if it were the Chinese equivalent of Amazon. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez occupied the top spot. It was followed by The Catcher in the Rye , a book by a Chinese writer, The Great Gatsby , and Love in the Time of Cholera. It surprised me to see old bookslike The Great Gatsby on a recent best-seller list. I asked Victoria about it, and she told me that many Western classics had only started getting translated into Chinese in the last few years. She pointed to the third-placed book.
    â€œDo you know Gao Fei?” Victoria asked.
    I shook my head.
    â€œHe is a very popular writer here. He is Chinese though. But many people said that he copied Ma-er-ke-si . So I bought this book because I want to see if that’s true.”
    â€œIs it?”
    â€œI don’t think so. Maybe the way they write is a bit similar. But—” Victoria held up the book. “The feelings in this one are different from Gao Fei’s books. In Gao Fei’s books, you can feel the spirit of China. In this one, there is a different spirit.”
    â€œIs he the best writer in China?” I asked.
    â€œGao Fei? He is good. Many people like Da Ning more. I do. But his books are very criticizing the government. So nobody will say he is best. He doesn’t win the prizes. Gao Fei wins many prizes.” Victoria paused. “Do you like to read?” she asked.
    â€œI read some,” I said. “Mostly for school though. My brother liked to read a lot.”
    â€œWhy not? What is your most favorite book?”
    I thought for a moment. “Last year I had to read a book called To Kill a Mockingbird. I liked that one.”
    Victoria smiled. “You will find that one for me, and I will buy you one book Da Ning wrote that is my most favorite one.”
    Several soldiers stood at attention along the street, guns across their bodies in a ready position. I was about to ask Victoria why there were so many armed guards everywhere with such serious-looking machine guns, but before I could, Driver Wu told Victoria a motorcade would be coming through. Almost as soon as Victoria translated this for me, a motorcade of black Audi A4s came up beside us in the emergency lane. Driver Wu looked back at us and smiled.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I asked Victoria.
    â€œThey’re government officials,” Victoria said. She pointed to the back of a passing car. “See, they have white license plates.”
    Every car in the convoy had a white license plate with red and black lettering instead of the usual blue plates with white letters. “What does that mean?”
    â€œThat’s how you know they’re officials. They always have the Audis with white license plates. They