‘All right, then. The doctor is here, you've all heard what I had to say, you know the rules and the meat has been prepared. We're ready to begin,’ Lao Lan announced. ‘I hereby declare the start of the inaugural Huachang United Meatpacking Plant meat-eating contest. Huang Biao, bring out the meat!’
‘On its wa-a-a-y—’ Like a server in a pre-revolution restaurant, Huang Biao drew out the call as he floated out of the kitchen holding a red plastic tub full of cooked meat. He was followed by three young women hired for the occasion. Clad in white uniforms, they moved swiftly, like a well-trained unit, smiling broadly and carrying a red tub each. Huang Biao placed his tub on the table in front of me, and the three young women did the same for my rivals.
Beef from our plant.
Chunks of fist-sized meat, cooked without recourse to condiments, not even salt.
All flank steaks.
‘How many pounds?’ Lao Lan asked.
‘Five in each tub,’ Huang Biao answered.
‘I have a question,’ Feng Tiehan said, raising his hand like a schoolboy.
‘Go ahead,’ Lao Lan said with a glare.
‘Does each tub hold exactly the same amount? And all the same quality?’
Lao Lan looked to Huang Biao.
‘All from the same cow!’ Huang Biao confirmed. ‘Cooked in the same pot, and exactly five pounds on a scale.’
Feng Tiehan shook his head.
‘Someone must have defrauded you in the past,’ Huang Biao said.
‘Bring out the scale,’ Lao Lan said.
Huang Biao grumbled as he went into the kitchen; then he came out with a small scale and banged it down on the table.
Lao Lan scowled at him. ‘Put each tub on the scale.’
‘You three act like you were tricked in some previous life,’ Huang groused as he weighed the four tubs, one at a time. ‘See—all the same, not an ounce of difference.’
‘Any more questions?’ Lao Lan asked. ‘If not, we can begin.’
‘I have one more,’ Feng said.
‘Where do all these questions come from?’ Lao Lan asked with a little laugh. ‘Well, let's hear it. I want everything on the up and up. And if the rest of you have questions, now's the time to raise them. I don't want any complaints later.’
‘I can see that all four tubs weigh the same, but what about the quality? I suggest we tag them and draw lots to see who gets which one.’
‘Good idea,’ Lao Lan said. ‘Do you have pen and paper in your kit, Doctor? You can be the referee.’
The doctor eagerly took a pen from his kit, removed his prescription book, tore off four sheets, gave each a number—one, two, three, four—and then placed one under each tub. After that he made four lots and laid them upside down on the table.
‘OK, meat warriors,’ Lao Lan said, ‘draw your lots.’
Although I viewed all this with cool detachment, I was beginning to get annoyed with Feng Tiehan. Why fuss so? Why be so picky over a tub of meat? As I seethed silently, Huang Biao and his helpers moved the tubs according to the number of their draws.
‘Any more problems?’ Lao Lan asked. ‘Think hard, Feng Tiehan, anything more you'd like? No? Good. Then I declare the start of the inaugural Huachang United Meatpacking Plant meat-eating contest!’
I made myself comfortable and then, wiping my hands on a paper napkin, took a quick look round me. Feng Tiehan, to my left, had stabbed a piece of meat with a skewer and taken an unhurried bite. I was secretly surprised at his civilized eating habits. That was not the case with Liu Shengli or Wan Xiaojiang, both to my right. Wan tried using chopsticks but had so much trouble with them that he quickly switched to a skewer. Grumbling, he stabbed a square of meat, took a savage bite and then began to chomp like a monkey. Liu Shengli stabbed his meat with the tips of both chopsticks, opened wide and bit off half, stuffing his mouth so full he could hardly chew. This barbaric lack of etiquette revealed them to be men who hadn't tasted meat in ages. That was all I needed to confirm that they'd be out of the fight in no time. They were eating like novices, like autumn locusts that can barely manage a few hops. Now I could focus my attention on the man with the sallow complexion, Feng Tiehan, who looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Definitely the man to beat.
Folding the paper napkin and laying it beside my tub, I rolled up my sleeves, sat up straight and cast a kindly glance at the crowd, like a boxer just before a fight. I was repaid with admiring looks, and I could tell by the appreciative sighs that the people approved of my bearing and youthful maturity. My legendary eating achievements were not forgotten. I saw the warm smile of Lao Lan and the enigmatic smile of Yao Qi, who kept himself largely hidden in the crowd. In fact, there were smiles on lots of familiar faces, looks of admiration too, as well as a few drooling mouths on those who would have loved to take my place. The chomp chomp sound of chewing filled my ears and disgusted me. And I heard the plaintive moans of the meat, its angry complaints, emerge from all three mouths, mouths it did not want to be in. I was like a marathon runner standing confidently at the starting line, sizing up the competition before streaking down the course. It was time to begin. The chunks of beef in my tub had nearly run out of patience. None of the spectators could hear them, but I could. And perhaps my sister too. Lightly patting me on the back, she said: ‘You should start, Elder Brother.’
‘All right,’ I replied gently, ‘I will.’ I then spoke to the darling meat: ‘I'm going to eat you now.’ ‘Me first! No, me!’ they squealed as they fought for my attention. Their soft pleas merged with their wonderful aroma and sprinkled over my face like pollen. It was intoxicating. ‘Dear meat, all you pieces of meat, slow down, there's no rush. You'll get your turn, all of you. Though I haven't eaten any of you yet, we share an emotional bond. Love at first sight. You belong to me, you're my meat, all you pieces of beef. How could I bear to abandon you?’
I used neither chopsticks nor a skewer, but my hands—I knew the meat preferred the feel of my skin. When I gently picked up the first piece, it gave out a joyful moan and trembled in my hand. I knew that wasn't fear but rapture. Only a tiny fraction of all the meat in the world would ever have the good fortune of being consumed by Luo Xiaotong, the boy who understood and loved meat. The excitement of this tubful came as no surprise. As I brought the piece to my mouth, glistening tears gushed from a pair of bright eyes staring passionately at me. I knew that it loved me because I loved it. Love all round the world was a matter of cause and effect. I am deeply moved, meat. My heart is all a-flutter. I honestly wish I didn't have to eat you, but I do.
I delivered the first piece of the darling meat into my mouth, though I could just as easily have said that the darling meat inserted itself into my mouth. Whichever it was, at that moment both of us experienced a flood of mixed emotions, like reunited lovers. ‘I hate the thought of biting into you, but I must. I wish I didn't have to swallow you, but I must. There are so many more pieces waiting to be eaten, and today is not just another day for me. Until today, our union and mutual appreciation has been something I've enjoyed, heart and soul. But now I feel a combination of performance pressure and anxiety, and my mind has begun wander. I must concentrate on the task ahead, and I can only ask your indulgence. I will eat as never before, so that you and I—we—will demonstrate the acutely serious aspect of eating meat.’ The first piece of meat slid with some regret into my stomach, where it swam like a fish in water. ‘Go on, enjoy yourself. I'm sure you're lonely, but not for long—your friends will join you soon.’ The second piece felt the same emotions towards me as I did towards it, and it followed an identical course down to my stomach until it was reunited with the first. Then the third piece, the fourth, the fifth…forming a tidy queue. They sang the same song, shed the same tears, trod the same course and wound up in the same place. It was a sweet but also sad process, illustrious and filled with glory.