Chapter 3

Grandma stood still for a moment.

Then she nodded.

“All right. This once.”

Before dawn the next morning, she rushed into the yard and screamed herself hoarse.

“Help! Murder!”

Her voice echoed across the mountainside.

Our house stood at its foot, surrounded by rocky slopes. The other homes were far apart.

She ran a wide circuit outside.

About fifteen minutes later, she returned with villagers following behind her.

I hid in the west room and peered through a crack in the wood.

The crowd gasped at the bright red strips of meat hanging in our yard, their oily sheen like fresh blood.

Everyone went pale.

Only Da Qiang and Er Qiang, Third Uncle’s sons, smiled strangely. They leaned together and whispered.

Grandma dropped to the ground, beating her thighs and crying.

“Heaven help me! Dafu killed his own grandson!”

“He got drunk and butchered my poor Qiu Fu!”

Several women hurried to lift her. Tears streamed down her face.

Grandpa sat silently on a wooden stool, his face gray.

No one spoke.

The air felt heavy. Wind howled through the yard.

Then Er Qiang nudged his brother.

Da Qiang stepped forward with a crooked smile.

“Uncle, you’ve lost your senses. Hungry or not, you can’t butcher your own grandson.”

“Or are you addicted to white meat?”

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

Eyes turned toward Grandpa in fear, disgust, and anger.

“No,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “I didn’t kill him. I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

Da Qiang laughed hoarsely.

“That sounds familiar. Chen Liu says the same thing. Who believes him?”

“I hear you lived through the famine as a child. Once someone’s tasted white meat, they never forget the smell.”

His words fell like stones.

The murmurs grew.

A middle-aged man, Zhou Laosan, spoke.

“Old Sun. Tell us the truth. Have you eaten human flesh before?”

“Did you kill your grandson?”

Grandpa stood and looked directly at them.

“No. I didn’t kill him.”

“And I never ate human flesh as a child.”

Silence.

Then Da Qiang laughed again.

“Everyone’s afraid of you now, Uncle. You’d better leave.”

Er Qiang joined in.

“If you’ve never eaten people, the villagers can let you live.”

“But if you have, we can’t let you stay.”

Grandpa’s gaze sharpened as he stared at him.

“I have never eaten human flesh.”

“Liar!”

Er Qiang sneered.

“My father told us you did during the famine. I kept quiet for the family’s sake.”

“Today, everyone needs to know so they can protect themselves.”

The uproar rose.

Someone shouted first.

“Drive Sun Dafu out!”

The others took it up.

“Out of the village! Chen Liu, too!”

The cries shook the yard.

People surged forward and pushed Grandpa toward the village gate.

He gave a strained smile.

“I’ve lived here for decades…”

“Let me bury my grandson before I go.”

“Get out!” Grandma said coldly. “I don’t want to see you again, you beast!”

He didn’t answer.

Head bowed, he walked.

Every step was heavy. Behind him came the villagers’ shouts and the squelch of trampled snow and mud.

When everyone had gone, only Grandma and Third Uncle’s two sons remained in the yard.

Er Qiang put a hand on her shoulder and softened his voice.

“Don’t cry, Aunt. We’ll help bury the boy.”

She wiped her eyes.

“Where’s your father?”

Da Qiang started to answer.

Er Qiang stopped him.

“His illness has come back. He’s bedridden.”

“I haven’t seen him for so long. I should visit…”

They exchanged an uneasy glance.

“Another time, Aunt. Let’s take care of the boy first.”

She nodded wearily.

“All right. Get some white cloth. Wrap him.”

Da Qiang fetched white cloth and a bamboo basket from the storeroom.

Er Qiang said, “We’ll need a coffin. We can get a small one, made for children.”

Grandma sighed.

“I’ll get some money.”

The moment she turned away, they looked at each other.

Er Qiang smiled coldly, bent, opened the cloth, and took six pieces of dried meat.

He hid them inside his clothes.

By the time Grandma returned, both acted as though nothing had happened. They helped her take the basket of “meat” away for burial.

In the west room, sweat drenched me.

I had seen clearly.

Those six pieces weren’t pork.

They were human flesh.

They really did eat people.

That evening, the brothers returned with a coffin just large enough for a child.

Grandma met them.

“Finished?”

“Yes, Aunt. Get some rest.”

They left.

She came inside, turned off the light, and sat beside me.

Her hand shook as she offered me some meat.

“Eat. You must be hungry.”

I drew back.

“Where’s Grandpa?”

“Will he come back?”

1. Hiding the Living

Grandma spoke quietly, her voice rough and trembling.

“If your grandpa comes back tonight, don’t go outside.”

I looked up in surprise.

“Where will I sleep?”

She looked into the yard.

“In the coffin.”

“Remember. Whatever happens, no one must discover you’re alive.”

I stared.

“I’m scared!”

She gripped my hand.

“It’s all right. I’ll keep watch outside.”

“But if Da Qiang and Er Qiang come and find you alive, we’re both finished.”

2. The Last Piece of Meat

I was so hungry that I ate the pig’s head meat she offered.

It tasted strange. Sour and metallic, as though it had been kept too long.

I grimaced.

But my stomach ached with hunger, and I swallowed it all.

When I finished, she said softly, “Good boy. It’s time.”

The little coffin still stood open in the yard.

I spoke quickly, keeping my voice low.

“Grandma, I saw Er Qiang hide six pieces of meat!”

“They must have medicine in them. They’re probably unconscious now. Call the villagers to catch them!”

She looked at me.

Her eyes were colder than the snowy night.

“Children shouldn’t interfere in adult matters.”

“Get in.”

Before I could respond, she gave my shoulder a gentle push.

I went over, climbed onto a stool, and got into the coffin.

As soon as I lay down, the lid slammed shut.

Darkness swallowed me.

“Grandma…”

Her voice seemed to come from far away.

“Don’t be afraid, Qiu Fu. By morning, it’ll all be over.”

“Don’t go anywhere. Stay outside and watch over me.”

“I’m here…”

Then silence.

Not a sliver of light entered the coffin.

I heard no breathing but my own.

3. Footsteps in the Night

I don’t know how much time passed before heavy footsteps sounded in the yard.

Had Grandpa come back?

I heard nothing from Grandma.

Why wasn’t she speaking?

Could it be Da Qiang and Er Qiang?

Then a man’s voice sounded, deep and mocking.

“That little monkey was hard to catch.”

“So scrawny. Hardly any meat on him!”

Another man laughed softly.

“Lucky we got him. Better than nothing.”

Their rough laughter echoed through the night.

I shivered and tried not to breathe.