ATPnovel Chapter 11 The Smell of Meat
Chapter 11 The Smell of Meat
The two refugees stood at the mouth of the ditch, their dark shadows falling directly onto the face of Wang's wife.
There was no movement in the ditch; even Awang's stomach, which had been growling loudly just moments before, seemed to have been startled. Everyone was staring at what the short, thin man was holding—a piece of purplish-red, black, dried-out meat.
That's human flesh.
In this land where even grass and roots are scarce, this thing has a name: "Want Meat." It means that once you've tasted it, you'll never forget the flavor that sustains you, and you'll crave it every single day.
"Why are you protecting that dead child?" The tall vagrant sniffed, his eyes gleaming green as he stared intently at the blue cloth bundle in the arms of the Wang family's wife. "That child hasn't breathed since yesterday. Keeping him covered up will only attract flies, but it'll also get you a couple of decent meals. Our meat is dried and can't be stored away; it'll be enough for you to walk dozens of miles more."
Wang's wife, clutching her child, huddled in a corner against the earthen wall, her teeth chattering, making a "clucking" sound—a chill emanating from her very bones. She had no strength to curse, only to shake her head desperately, her eyes devoid of any clarity.
Old Zhao leaned against the wall, his old face wrinkled like a walnut shell. He felt nauseous, but his stomach was full of dry, bitter bile. He had lived to such an old age and had seen famines, but this was the first time he had ever seen someone talk about "trading children for food" so confidently, as if they were exchanging two pounds of cabbage at the market.
"I...I won't change..." Wang's daughter-in-law finally managed to utter a sentence, her throat full of sand, as thin as a mosquito's buzz.
The tall refugee's smile slowly faded. He turned to look at Li Qian, who was sitting on the far side, and then at Sun Deshan, who was holding a wooden stick.
"Brothers, boss, you've all traveled all over the country, you should understand." The tall refugee gestured towards Li Qian with his chin, "In this wasteland, dead people are food. All the grass roots you've dug up along the way have been bitter, but human life is warm. Keeping this dead kid around is like deliberately letting everyone rot in the ditch."
These words, like a poisonous thorn, pierced the hearts of Sun Deshan and Awang.
Sun Deshan's hand gripping the stick trembled, veins bulging. He had just wanted to fight these two hungry ghosts to the death, but now, his eyes involuntarily drifted over the purplish-red chunk of flesh.
That was a piece of meat.
A piece of meat that can relieve his stomach cramps and give him strength in his legs.
Awang was even more miserable. He lowered his head, biting his lip hard, but kept swallowing his saliva. He felt like an animal, but the hunger burning in his stomach made him want to swallow the dirt on the ground.
"Let's change it..."
In the silent dry ditch, a very faint sound suddenly rang out, so faint that even the speaker himself could not hear it clearly.
It's Sun Deshan.
He didn't look up, his voice weak: "Li Qian, that child... is indeed dead."
Wang's daughter-in-law suddenly looked up at Sun Deshan, her eyes filled with disbelief. She had originally thought that the people in this ravine were her protectors, but now, even her protectors were watching her child and swallowing their saliva.
Li Qian remained silent, leaning against the earthen wall with his hand resting on the hilt of his knife.
He was watching. He was watching these two starving ghosts who had trampled human ethics into a pulp, and he was also watching his companions who were on the verge of being driven mad by hunger.
He felt a chilling absurdity. In modern society, this would be called a crime against humanity; here, it was simply "a way to survive."
"Hey Li, you make a decision." The tall refugee noticed Sun Deshan was wavering, chuckled, and took another half step forward. "We brothers aren't greedy. If we get this kid, we'll start a fire outside the ditch, and the aroma of meat will waft in, and everyone can have some. It's better than just sitting here doing nothing, don't you think?"
"Start a fire?" Li Qian finally spoke, his voice unusually calm.
"Yes, start a fire! We brought flint, and with this dry weather, firewood is everywhere." The short refugee brandished the kitchen knife in his hand, his eyes full of greed.
Li Qian slowly stood up.
When he stood there, everyone in the ditch held their breath.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" Li Qian stared at the tall refugee.
The refugee paused for a moment, then grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth: "In this state of affairs, anyone who doesn't kill people would be buried in the ground long ago."
"How many have you killed?"
"I don't remember. When you're starving, who cares about that?" The refugee thought the young man was interesting and assumed he wanted to join the gang. "What? The boss is interested in that too? Your knife is sharp. If we team up, there's no meat we can't get south of Baoding."
Li Qian smiled, but his smile carried a chilling disgust that sent shivers down one's spine.
He took a step forward, standing right between Wang's wife and the two hungry ghosts.
"You just said that the dead aren't considered human." Li Qian's voice sounded crisp in the night wind. "Then, in my world, those who eat people aren't considered human either."
The tall vagrant's expression changed, and he took a half step back, his hand reaching for the cleaver behind him: "You fucking want to double-cross me?"
"No, I want the people in this ditch to be able to see themselves as human beings again tomorrow."
The moment Li Qian finished speaking, he took a sudden step forward.
That was the explosive power he had developed in modern combat training. Although his body was weak, his killing intent was real.
"Clang!"
A flash of light.
Although the Qing soldiers' swords were blunt, Li Qian used the momentum of his dive to slash downwards at an angle.
The tall refugee had no idea what was going on. His tricks were just rudimentary moves he'd learned while scrambling for food among refugees; he'd never seen a killing method that targeted vital organs like this before.
Before he could even pull out the kitchen knife, the military knife had already swept across his neck.
There was no exaggerated gushing like in the movies; there was just a red line on his slender neck, followed by slow, seeping blood that smeared the refugee's face. His eyes widened, and he made two "hoarse" sounds, trying to say something, but could only spit out blood and foam before plunging headfirst into the white lime ground outside the dry ditch.
The short, displaced man next to him was terrified. He dropped the kitchen knife in his hand and turned to run away.
"Sun Deshan!" Li Qian shouted.
Sun Deshan, who was in a state of fear and uncertainty, suddenly jolted awake and instinctively swung the wooden stick in his hand, smashing it hard on the back of the short refugee's head.
A crisp "snap" sound.
The short refugee collapsed to the ground, twitched twice, and then died.
The ditch fell silent again.
The purplish-red jerky fell to the ground, rolled around, and became covered in dry, cold white ash.
Awang was so frightened that he wet his pants, and a foul odor spread. Wang's wife, on the other hand, clung tightly to her child, huddled in a corner, and cried loudly and weakly, as if she wanted to cry out all the despair she had endured for the past two weeks.
Li Qian walked over, picked up the piece of meat, and looked coldly at Sun Deshan.
"Want some?"
Sun Deshan stared at the piece of meat, his chest heaving violently. He looked at the two corpses that had just fallen on the ground, then at Li Qian's blood-stained, ice-cold face, and the wooden stick in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud".
"I...I don't want to eat, I'm starving, Li, I was confused just now." Sun Deshan's voice trembled as he slapped himself hard across the face.
Li Qian casually tossed the piece of meat into the darkness in the distance.
"Remember this slap."
Li Qian sheathed his sword, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces.
"If Su Mo'er leads the way to water first thing tomorrow morning, we'll have a chance to survive. If anyone tries anything funny again, these two on the ground will be their example."
After he finished speaking, he leaned back against the earthen wall.
No one in the ditch dared to stare at Wang's wife's bundle anymore. That fear of Li Qian finally overwhelmed their hunger and thirst, becoming the last shackle that maintained their so-called "humanity."
Li Qian closed his eyes, his palms were covered in cold sweat.
He knew that he had just killed not just two refugees, but the entire group's crumbling sense of shame.
To avoid becoming a ghost, you have to be more ferocious than a ghost.