Chapter Six

  The dragon stuck its head into the pot, submerging its entire head in the steam rising from it. It reached out to Kang Ya, who was stunned, and snatched away the branch that served as chopsticks from his hand. Under the dragon's fierce gaze, everyone sat still, then it opened the lid of the pot, which no one had ever opened before.

  Our hearts were in our throats - Ma was about to snatch the firewood from my hands, trying once again to protect our food. The big snake's butt almost covered its eyes.

  But the expression of that dead Northeasterner softened in the suddenly rising steam, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and I suddenly felt that the face wet with steam belonged to a homesick child. He opened his eyes, looked at the pot, and stirred the pot with a branch, becoming furious again, as if about to beat someone - then he recited a long poem:

  "Is this mom's braised pork with noodles? Braised pork with noodles isn't made like that! A whole pot was ruined by you dead Northeasterners! Why didn't you add soy sauce? Did the soy sauce offend you or something? Do you have a grudge against Chinese cabbage? You put in such a huge amount of Chinese cabbage! Noodles, oh my god! If there wasn't any potato starch it would be fine, but you had to go and put in a whole bunch of dead potato starch noodles! Are you an idiot with a potato for brains?! Where's the pork? Did the Japanese steal all the pork and soy sauce? Get them back! Good grief, Northeastern braised pork with noodles isn't made like this! This pot is just noodle and Chinese cabbage soup!"

  We stared at him, shocked and wisely chose to remain silent. Hunger expressed itself in a withered manner, indicating that no one among us had ever been so long-winded, and such trivial nonsense was coming from the usually taciturn Mí Lóng. We wanted to tell Mí Lóng that Wang Bā Dàn should make Northeastern braised pork with vermicelli, but his incessant chatter scared us off; usually he could cripple someone with fewer than seven words. Now it seemed like he was eager to overturn our pot; if he did so, we would have no choice but to practice picking up noodles from the ground.

  The dragon was still there, fiercely and resentfully sighing, "Unpaid! I would have seen it a long time ago! We are all unpaid!"

  He intended to treat us - pulled out two military cans from his pocket, which were also extremely scarce on the black market, and poured them into the pot in a destructive posture. We thought there must be something else inside, but before he opened it, the can was sealed, and what came out of it was really meat. One thing that was immediately apparent was that this guy couldn't cook at all, whether it was Northeastern or Southwestern braised pork with vermicelli, he couldn't do it, he could only pour ingredients into the pot, even putting the can opener in the pot, and started shouting:

  "Mutton eggs! Get some more of that canned meat! Soy sauce! And lard! And a knife!"

  Yang Danzi didn't want to take it but didn't dare to take less, the bottle and can were hugged together, with a knife in his mouth, the dragon began to pour into the pot in batches. The knife, apart from being convenient for opening cans and smashing bottle caps, could also be used for stirring. He stirred while pouring whole bottles of soy sauce into the pot, accompanied by grand declarations:

  "Let me show you what a real Northeastern pork stew with vermicelli is!"

  The snake's butt is now really covering his eyes, he looks through the gap between his fingers. It is said that he is one of us who still has a sense of taste - at least he thinks so.

  Yang Egg suddenly reminded Mi Long: "Canned food is beef."

  The dragon quickly stabbed him with a knife, and the sheep's egg was silent, squatting beside him, covering his waist.

  We stared blankly. We were all so hungry that when the dragon single-mindedly cooked his hometown's braised pork noodles, no one thought he had ruined this hard-won dinner, we just thought, damn it, so much meat.

  We sat, squatted and stood around, slurping noodles, chewing canned beef and pork. We wiped the oil from our mouths onto our hands, then licked it off again. Sometimes we had to pull out whole leaves of vegetables from our mouths, which had been swallowed without being chewed properly, only to be pulled back up into our throats for another round of rumination.

  She Piguang protested: "You say no rust?"

  "White radish is fine! It's just too salty!"

  He was afraid that Mí Lóng would hear. Among us, the most refined eater is Mí Lóng, because he doesn't starve like others and has a discerning palate; every time he takes a small bite, he looks at everyone's reaction. Mí Lóng still hasn't given up hope, he needs people to flatter his braised pork with noodles.

  "Still okay? The flavor is gone? I only make this dish on special occasions, you guys are really lucky."

  The dragon asked in a flattering tone, and those who were asked by him glared at him fiercely before starting to hiccup one after another.

  The dragon began to worry in earnest, "It's hard to serve. The dishes are too good and won't do. It seems like I've been feeding him too well."

  I downed another bowl, pouring water into my mouth to rinse away the bitter saltiness that was almost numbing my oral cavity. I rolled my eyes while watching him, who seemed to be choking to death in a series of hiccups. That was due to being too salty. The amount of salt added by the chef was enough to cure an entire raw pig head.

  I handed the water to Not Spicy, thinking he would gulp it down in one go. Instead, he shook his head and said in a hoarse voice, "Drinking water doesn't fill you up."

  The one who was dizzy from the saltiness stumbled towards that pot, adding new content to what was left in his bowl. I also suddenly realized that a mouthful of water at this time would mean one less mouthful of food, and I too stumbled towards that pot.

  The dragon was delighted even though he didn't get to eat his imagined braised pork noodles.

  The contents of the pot were absolutely unbearable for a normal person, with too much added by the new chef, making it look like a drought had hit the pot. The soy sauce had stained the bottom of the pot dark brown, and the meat, oil, and vegetables were all tangled together in a mess. I served myself a large portion, but there was no need to rush, as everyone would still be full with plenty left over. I let out a belch and realized that I really couldn't eat anymore. I glanced outside our circle and saw Li Wula still lying there, staring blankly at the night sky with a lost expression. He was muttering something, but I didn't care what it was that had made him like this - all I knew was that I often wore the same expression myself.

  I turned around to look at the dragon, and it was forcing the sheep egg to finish that bowl of food that probably wouldn't provide anything except calories. But I had a feeling that he was looking at me just now. What's it got to do with me? I walked over, lightly kicked Li Wula, and handed him the bowl of mush. Li Wula quickly sat up, holding the bowl in his hands, his head almost buried in the bowl, and we heard a rapid eating sound that only pigs could make.

  The bowl was empty when it was handed back to me. Li Ula, no gratitude, no anger, not even the physiological reaction of being quickly salted like us.

  The dragon looked at him, his expression restored to its usual coldness and provocation, "Even if you're seated, you still have to make a sound while eating?"

  Li Wula snorted, "The northeast's braised pork with vermicelli isn't made like this."

  The dragon swung its claws, sending a large piece of firewood flying onto Li Wula's body. The sound was so loud that it made us all feel pain, but Li Wula didn't react at all and still spoke in that infuriating tone.

  Li Wula looks like a dead man at this moment, "This is really not Northeastern-style braised pork with vermicelli."

  He got up and walked away, back to his solitary place. Our circle made a loud noise, that was the sound of someone jumping up to chase after him, but he was tripped by Mie Long and fell to the ground. We watched as he slowly sank into darkness.

  The dragon's madness has passed, and he seems to have returned to his usual listlessness. At this time, he once again became distant and intimidating, saying "It's all over, it's all over. The world doesn't have gatherings that don't disperse, and the good meat is left for the beasts to eat."

  One of the livestock, Hao Shouyi, immediately stood up and went to the side of the pot. He bowed to everyone and said, "Thank you for leaving me a bite. Thank you, brothers, for sparing my life."

  He put the lid on that pot and picked up the whole pot. The puzzled dragon watched Dr. Hao walk towards the backyard - the dragon didn't understand our rules, so he had a bit of resentment, although it was only allowed for the governor to set fires and not for the common people to light lamps.

  "What is he doing?"

  "Every meal should be left with some food for the wounded soldiers he raised."

  "Who asked you?" But he didn't raise any further objections, "Let's go, let's go."

  He didn't call us, but we were also doing monkey business. Every day was like this, now looking for every meal, and then starting to waste every evening. What's different today is that the big boss suddenly turned his homesickness into meat and oil in our pot, and then wanted to keep us at a distance - he didn't care about our dinner tomorrow anymore.

  I and Hao veterinarian carried a pot together, I also asked him to help me take a look at my leg.

  Hao Lao still felt heartache, "This meal is too wasteful, enough for three days."

  That's right. I turned back and found the lost dragon, "How come you're scattered? What's going on?"

  The Northeastern dialect I temporarily learned stunned the dragon for a moment, and he didn't say yes or no, but like Pavlov's dog, he quietly followed.

  Hao Shouyi spoke in a low voice: "This is not good."

  I pretended not to hear and let Dou Bing take my hand, so I could get close to Mi Long. Mi Long stayed because he was really rich and lonely. We kept him around because we found that when he's lonely, he's really generous.

  I was thinking about how to get close to the mysterious dragon, while Hao Shouyi walked unsteadily, accompanied by Dou Bing carrying a pot. Hao Shouyi is the only good person among us. He made us promise to leave food for the wounded every day, and in return, he promised that we would be well taken care of when we were injured. I don't know how a veterinarian without even aspirin can take care of the wounded, nor do I know why we agreed to him, so in the end, we just said, he is a good person.

  Lying down, sitting, standing, squatting, sprawling, in Hao Shouyi's hospital we didn't even need to act like patients, anyway he didn't look like a doctor either. The iron frame makeshift stove had already heated up that pot of mushy stuff, making the hospital look more like a kitchen. Dou Bing was helping Hao Shouyi deliver bowls of porridge to the wounded soldiers in the house, but all we were thinking about was causing trouble.

  Kang Ya started showing off, "I'll teach you guys a skill - eating rice noodles!"

  He reached out to take the bowl of tofu pudding just as it was about to be carried into the house, and Hao Shouyi ruthlessly used a ladle to give him a hard whack. We burst out laughing, actually there's nothing funny, but we laughed loudly.

  The dragon was very disgruntled, he hadn't even found a foothold in this rotten place. "Poor joy, tease the poor, tease cough, poor life." He muttered angrily, while unapologetically lying down on Hao's bloody operating table, "I'll show you how to sleep and snore."

  Ayi hadn't even gone on stage yet, but the atmosphere was already cold. "Then I'll sing a song for you," he said awkwardly and sang, "The butterfly has flown away, my heart is no longer there, who will come to wipe away tears in the desolate long night? It's just because of a little dependence, a little love..."

  It's hard to describe how a military-clad major with a stiff neck sang this song, torturing the ears of a group of old rough men, even though he was really sorrowful. Before he could even take a breath, the dragon-like man slammed his fist on the bed board so fiercely that it broke off a piece. He picked up the broken piece and threw it at A-Yi, if I hadn't pulled him away quickly, A-Yi would have been smashed.

  A Yi's face was ashen, while Mi Long continued to shout loudly: "You've scared the chicken skin away! Pick it up!"

  Ayi's voice trembled, but facing the confused dragon, as far as I knew about Ayi, she was also scared. The confused dragon seemed to be endless, relying on the fact that the confused dragon was slightly better to me, or rather, a kind of sympathy, I interjected and made jokes.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, brothers from all over the world, Meng Xiaoye will perform a wonderful 'Rebirth of Spring' for you, recovering from injuries - now let's pretend to take medicine, taking sulfanilamide."

  I stretched out my hand, with two hard-won sulfonamides in the palm of my hand, and a water scoop in my other hand.

  The dragon let out a snort and lay back down, "Shameless thing."

  Because the medicine was his doing, he had a smile on his face. A bunch of fools clapped loudly. Sulfanilamide wouldn't cure my wound, all this was like a clown show. I mechanically put the medicine into my mouth, I drank water, and from the ladle saw myself, a haggard, disheveled, degenerate self.

  I saw myself being trampled to death under the Japanese tank; I saw myself stripping off my pants in public for a small bundle of noodles, "Not only are they patriotic soldiers who fight wars, but also patriotic soldiers who fight against the Japanese devils!" How shameless can people be? I was almost scared by myself; I saw myself sweeping away her belongings within minutes after getting slightly drunk.

  Fools are clapping their hands, quacking and quacking, from all corners of the country, with different accents.

  "Do I have it?"

  "Wow! This is getting out of hand!"

  "This is getting interesting! Frustrating is a stubborn good!"

  "Tortoise son must be obtained!"

  The silent Ah Yi looked at me with envy, no one has ever cheered for him like that. The dragonfly flew towards me, flapping its large feet, making a "pa pa" sound. I looked at my medicine.

  This is my medicine, not something I got by begging. These are my legs, not something that will be taken away by the Japanese.

  I swallowed the medicine and drank some water. "I feel much better!" I declared solemnly, and another round of scattered applause followed. I looked at my fox-like followers, shook my head and sat down, then slapped myself hard on the ear, silencing them.

  I boast, I confess, I don't know whether it's boasting or confessing. "I stole money and bought medicine. I stole a little girl's money!"

  Those bastards' reaction was as I had expected, with thunderous applause, stomping feet and shouts of "You're getting rich and pretty at the same time!" and "Shameless!".

  "I should have patted her on the chest and told her, 'Don't worry, I'll bring your brother back.' But instead of comforting her, she was overjoyed like a broken pot. Her brother is a Chen surname company commander in the Sichuan army. I ended up comforting her, then secretly stole her money."

  It's useless, those bastards just kept stomping their feet and whistling "good good", tonight's greasiness made them more energetic than any other day, which turned my confession into a boast, in fact - I don't know either.