Once upon a time, there was a poor Chinese who worked from the morning to the night for some healthy people. At the end of the day he was paid, went back to his modest home, had dinner, drunk a little bit then went to sleep. The following day he would start again. He worked consciously, owners praised him, all of his co-workers appreciated him, his wife loved him and his children were healthy. But our Chinese always sighed: “How hard I have to work to earn my daily bread!” If I would be Mandarin, people will worship me, I will wear expensive clothes, I will eat and drink only goodies, I will have a harem. The Gods heard him and made him Mandarin. Suddenly, from illiterate he is now literate.