Chapter 52: An uproar while changing dressing
Translated by: Chua
Edited by: TN and Elkassar
As he lapped the savoury thick soup and not being fully satisfied, he greedily poured down its entire contents into his throat. A wave of faint burnt charcoal taste slid down his throat into his belly, leaving a rich aftertaste.
“This……..” Sheyan carefully observed. “Isn’t this the commonly seen ‘Wun Tsai Chi’ ?”
‘Wun Tsai Chi’ is a common snack offered by street stalls in Hong Kong, usually sold in small bowls. It is also known to be an imitation shark fin soup without any notable valuable ingredients. Strictly speaking, it could be considered in the same category as chicken wing…..
This small bowl of ‘Wun Tasi Chi’ primarily consisted of shiitake mushrooms, shredded meat, ham, egg and vermicelli; such ingredients weren’t unique, and were thickly layered with cornstarch after slowly cooking for 3 hours. Its most distinct favour would be determined by the unique soup stock of the stall owner.
Sheyan craved for another bowl, as he raised his bowl to request for a replenishment. The yellow skinny woman strolled over to collect his bowl, her face grim as she thought Sheyan was just here for a free meal. Hence, she sternly issued a “No more” to him, turning around as she carried her basin full of soup away.
The next thing he saw was the male owner, along with two assistants, carrying over a huge covered wok and placing it on the stove. The boiling water within the wok seemed to weight 50 kg. The greasy surface at the tip boiled vigorously, producing foam and dispersed out with an unexplainable and thick aroma.
Witnessing this scene, some customers shook their heads and sigh, leaving their empty seats behind. Several waiting customers immediately pounce forward to occupy the vacant seats. Some people even starting phoning their colleagues, asking if they wanted takeaways.
Sheyan was a little curious, sitting quietly to observe. After a brief while, that yellow skinny woman marched over with a sullen face; using her greasy and filthy notebook along with a cracked pen, as she registered each orders of the sitting customers.
Sheyan was baffled internally, indecisive of what he wanted to eat. Yet one of his good points was not being picky, moreover that previous bowl of soup had left him with a favourable impression. He strained his ears to hear the nearby person ordering; when it was his time, he imitated the exact words.
“3 portions of the back leg, spice paste, a half portion of offals.”
*
After one of the serving attendants carried over a piping hot bowl, he finally realized that this was actually boiled dog meat! No wonder some weren’t willing to eat. Yet the person he imitated from was eating like as though he was an unruly duck on a wild goose chase.
In front of him, the dog meat was stewed skilfully, its furless sleek skin swivelled around in the soup. The snowy white thick soup had several fresh green shallots sprinkled over. A strong fragrance assailed his nose, at the bottom of the soup were rare pulps of yellow pea.
Not a person was muttering a single word here; everyone seated here had forsaken their societal identities as white-collared, black society, police, public servant, prostitutes and more. All that were left were gluttons. He could only hear the savory joy of people sucking and chewing on their food….
To Sheyan, his previous bowl of ‘Wun Tsai Chi’ didn’t count as proper food. He licked his lips and could hear himself swallowing his saliva. Moved by his surroundings, he coordinated his chopsticks as he tore of a large clump of robust meat off the dog leg. After blowing at it, he dipped it inside the spicy garlic paste by the side, and consumed it. He could clearly hear his teeth sinking into the tender flesh, releasing delightful joys. The unique flavor of dog meat and oil, mixed with random condiments slithered down his body, causing his fingers to move involuntarily to tear of a second slice.
With the enhancement of the spicy garlic paste and after eating 3 chunks of meat consecutively, Sheyan hiccupped with satisfaction; grabbing a bowl of soup to drink. The bowl was bland, probably lacking salt. Yet it was effective in rinsing away the greasiness in his mouth. The peas beneath the soup were soft; his tongue gently crushing it into pieces.
As he continued eating, he felt regretful after the third piece. When he was at his fifth, he felt an intense frustration. After eating two more mouthfuls, he finally called out loudly.
“Boss, get me another kilogram of dog’s meat!”
The skinny yellow woman walked over with an icy cold tone.
“No.”
Sheyan replied.
“…….and if I add cash?”
The skinny yellow woman became impatient as she gnashed her teeth at Sheyan.
“NO!!!! Scram after you finish, don’t disturb this lady boss’s business. This lady boss has a game of mahjong at 3!”
Facing the fierce and ferocious lady boss; Sheyan could only reluctantly finish his meat, drink his soup and finally finished up the mixed dog offals. It was here that he realized the dog offals weren’t chargeable, they were like pickled radish in restaurants. After paying his bill, he actually only had to pay for the 3 portions of dog meat. The price was extremely fair, no wonder customers flocked here like wild ducks.
*
After filling his tummy, Sheyan’s spirits were uplifted as he decided to shop around for gifts before flying back to Taiwan. Nothing noteworthy happened along the way. Sanzi had followed in accordance with Sheyan’s arrangement; renting a seaside detached house before inviting the old granny to care of Uncle Dasi.
After returning home, he only saw the granny sweeping the floor without Uncle Dasi’s and Sanzi’s presence. Sheyan then found out they had went to the hospital to change the dressing of his hand. Strangely, this process would normally only require an hour, but an entire half afternoon had elapsed already.
Sheyan was familiar with the hospital that Uncle Dasi frequented; he had recommended this to Uncle Dasi, which was known as the ‘Executive Yuan, military associated hospital for the retiree citizens’. Due to its relations with the military, they were known to be skilled in medical treatment.
Before Uncle Dasi got his treatment, his wound was always festering boils, but now it had finally healed up; probably only leaving a scar within a week’s time. Sheyan was immensely worried and reckoned that something was up. He hurriedly ran over to the road to flag a cab.
After reaching the hospital, Sheyan noticed several black sedans parked at its entrance. He didn’t really care as he strided in. After inquiring with the counter lady, and finding out the dressing treatment was at the fifth floor, he took the lift up. Suddenly, he realized the main door of the hospital were dripping with wet bloodstains, which appeared countless times until he arrived at the lift entrance. The bloodstains were fresh, and had probably surfaced several hours earlier.
After Sheyan went inside the lift, it was similarly a similar scene of blood where its interior carpet was stained with moist blackness. After reaching the fifth floor, he could see a frightened and nervous expression of a nurse. Even the doctors here carried a fearful expression and their spoken words were executed in whispers, as though they were frightened by something.
Sheyan probed a few steps in, before heading towards the lateral treatment rooms. After a corner he halted his footsteps. Ahead of him, inside the 30 metre long corridor, the stretch of two seats along it were densely packed with matured males, both young and old. Some were smoking, and had flustered expressions, some had flourishing tattoos and distinct scars; occasionally vulgarities could be heard.
Naturally, such a scene only happened in black society movies. Most probably, one of the gang boss had suffered a crushing blow. These gang members all carried sorrowful looks on their faces, along with traces of unwavering loyalty.
Although the atmosphere here was stern and stifling, Sheyan had experienced such scenes on numerous occasions before. In actual fact, not a single member gave him the shuddering sensation of a wild beast. He directly strolled into the corridor.
The gang members casted a cold and murderous look at him, being glared at like this was rather uncomfortable. When Sheyan arrived at before a gang member, who was wearing a suit with sunglasses, he was obstructed. Another male, with folded hands against his chest and wearing a gold necklace, stood up and warned.
“Little kid, what are you doing?”
Sheyan didn’t want any trouble, he slanted his head and gently replied.
“Visiting a patient.”
The gold-necklace male continued.
“Who?”
Sheyan answered indifferently.
“Visiting my uncle. My little brother accompanied him to the doctor. The counter said treatment room 5-07.”
The gold-necklace male seemed like he didn’t want another unnecessary trouble, thus he let Sheyan go. Suddenly, an argument resounded at the treatment room at the end of the corridor. It swiftly escalated to loud scoldings, before a glass shattering sound pierced out. Then the door was smashed open, a curled out person was tossed out at the same time along with an unceasing torrent of obscenities.
“Little scumbag! Before my big brother’s health report is out, nobody is f**king allowed to get treatment, even the doctor has to wait! F*** off, get your medicine from your mum!”
Sheyan’s pupils instantly shrank; because the curled up figure was exceedingly familiar, it was shockingly Sanzi!
