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墨書 Inktalez
"Did we just cross over?" Fatty managed to squeeze out a few words with great difficulty.
I immediately understood the real reason behind his pale face. In fact, I had felt the same way when I first laid eyes on this Fork in the Road.
Normally, I would have taken the time to tease Fatty a bit, but right now, I had no inclination for that. Besides, I was afraid of pushing this thick-skinned guy over the edge.
I shook my head and formed the words silently: "This layout is very similar to Lop Nur and the Underground Passage, but this Fork in the Road is much larger."
I heard Fatty take a deep breath. "You scared the hell out of me."
The campfire was small; despite Jack's efforts, the pieces of meat he had placed over it were still bloody and lacked the aroma one would expect from grilled meat.
I said to Fatty, "I'll take care of Jack's leg injury; you handle the grilling."
Fatty nodded toward Tang Yumo. "What’s she doing just standing there? You have a perfectly healthy person here, yet you’re making her do all the work. Are you discriminating against healthy folks?"
I couldn't help but think that I really didn't want to rely on this Hakka Girl. Ever since Jack started doubting Tang Yumo, I had lost all trust in her. Letting her grill meat for us? That would take forever.
After standing up, Tang Yumo hadn’t sat back down. Even when we lit the fire, she stayed at a distance, maintaining an ambiguous relationship with us.
Fatty seemed not to care much about that. His attitude toward Tang Yumo remained stiff. Seeing me at a loss for words, he called out more rudely to her, "Tang Family Girl, why are you standing so far away? Qiangzi saved your life by acting as a meat cushion; shouldn’t you show some gratitude? If offering yourself is inconvenient right now, contributing some labor isn’t too much to ask. Come on! Make Brother Qiang some barbecue to reward him."
I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. Jack simply turned his face away.
Fatty snatched the Straight Blade from Jack's hand—used as a barbecue fork—and shoved it into Tang Yumo's hands, who was blushing and at a loss for what to do.
I quickly moved closer to Jack and leaned over his leg, focusing on applying the splint. Jack was muttering something in a language I couldn’t understand; it sounded like some form of Latin, repeating a few simple words. He must have been cursing someone or praying for his god to punish someone.
Jack’s right leg was broken beyond repair; both the tibia and fibula were shattered. I looked at it in horror and disbelief, wondering how he had managed to get Fatty off that Big Black Pig—he claimed he kicked him off. Surely he didn’t break his leg while kicking Fatty? If that were true, it would be poetic justice.
I guessed my technique for applying the splint wasn’t up to par for someone with a medical degree from Duke University, but he didn’t voice any objections. I could tell by his held breath and sudden deep inhalations, along with the beads of sweat dripping down his face.
Indeed, performing surgery on a professional physician is quite a stressful task.
"K." When I finally finished and made a 'K' gesture at Jack, I noticed the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth where he had been biting down hard.
I looked at Jack. "How do you feel? Much better, right?"
Whether it was sweat or tears, I could see that Jack's eyes were quite wet. He spoke in a trembling voice, "When we get back, I'll give you some surgical training. I'll train you myself."
"Is that really necessary?" I scoffed. "You really lack confidence in yourself."
Jack paused for a moment before understanding my words. "I have even less confidence in your surgical skills. As long as we still need to go to Lop Nur, it's absolutely necessary."
I couldn't tell if Jack's poor grilling skills were to blame or if Fatty's encouragement was just too effective, but soon the aroma of grilled meat wafted into my nose.
I immediately abandoned the pointless argument with Jack and drooled as I gazed at the skewers of grilled meat. The nearly one-inch thick pieces were dripping with blood and oil. The surface of the meat had turned golden brown and dark brown, and the enticing aroma was irresistible.
"Give me that piece." I pointed to the thickest and largest piece of grilled meat, salivating.
If it weren't for the fear of being burned, I would have pounced on it like a wolf. At that moment, my appetite overpowered my reason; I felt I would fight anyone or anything that tried to take food from me. In that instant, I was a beast.
Perhaps coerced by Fatty, Tang Yumo sat beside him with a dark expression, extending the skewer of grilled meat towards me. Her gaze was complex; it was hard to tell if she was complaining or angry, but there was definitely no gratitude. Perhaps at this moment, her hatred for Fatty had surpassed any other emotion and spread towards everyone around her.
I had no mood to mediate her feelings; the sudden wave of hunger made me feel like I could eat a whole cow. All I could think about was eating and quickly filling my stomach—it became the most pressing matter.
Grabbing a piece of oily grilled meat from the Straight Blade, I eagerly stuffed it into my mouth. The heat was bearable and became part of its deliciousness. Grilled meat without any seasoning should be bland and tasteless, yet in my mouth, it transformed into the most exquisite delicacy.
Each piece of succulent grilled meat weighed about a pound; although the outside was charred golden brown, the inside was still raw. With one bite, my mouth and corners were filled with oil and blood.
My eating habits were still similar to those of people from the north; I didn't like consuming anything too raw directly—meat had to be thoroughly cooked before eating. Normally, I wouldn't have an appetite for such undercooked meat, but strangely today, my taste seemed to have changed, and my appetite was surprisingly good. After devouring two large pieces of grilled meat in one go, I leaned back in satisfaction.
"I haven't eaten this well in ages."
As I savored my meal contentedly, I hazily glanced across at Fatty. The blood in my body began rushing to my stomach to aid in digesting all that food; meanwhile, my brain felt extremely oxygen-deprived. My vision started to blur, and my hearing began to weaken as sleepiness washed over me like a tide.
Strangely enough, through my drowsiness, I could hear two adversaries conversing as if they were enemies.
"American Guy, keep an eye on Qiangzi; don't let him fall."
"I don't need your instructions; I will take care of him."
"How is he? He has eaten a lot; I hope he doesn't overdo it."
"He won't. He needs a lot of energy replenishment."
"Can you knock him out? Let him sleep comfortably."
"Yeah, I'll give it a try. We need a healthy person; I'll do my best."
A strong wave of drowsiness made my hearing fade away. But I could feel myself slowly lying down under some force. The flames danced in my blurred vision, and I was aware that I was facing the campfire, with Fatty on the other side, who should allow me to rest peacefully.
My mind grew heavier and heavier, making it harder to think. Just before slipping into unconsciousness, a question arose in my brain. What did their conversation mean?
(To Be Continued...)
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