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The Human Meat Restaurant
墨書 Inktalez
In the dead of night, you should never eat at a restaurant that’s still open, for you can never tell if it’s meant for the living or the wandering spirits.
If you happen to enter such a place and find yourself served meat that is both sour and sweet, stop eating immediately, as it might be the unscrupulous owner’s late-night haul from the graveyard.
This story takes place in Weifang, Shandong, where my good friend Zhang Ming encountered something strange during his period of unemployment.
During that time, he had nothing to do and spent his days searching for delicious food.
One day, he stumbled upon a hidden eatery tucked away in an alley. Lifting the curtain to enter, he found the place bustling with customers, though the lighting was oddly dim.
After sitting down, the owner’s wife recommended their signature dish, Sour and Fragrant Bone-in Meat.
Once the food arrived, Zhang Ming took just one bite and found himself unable to stop. He finished his meal and ordered three more plates. He expected this delightful feast would cost him a fortune, but when it came time to pay, he was astonished by how cheap it was.
For some time after that, he continued to visit this restaurant. Despite its remote location, it attracted many patrons, most of whom were rather plump.
On this particular day, he settled into his usual spot at the back. The owner smiled at him as he entered; with just a glance from Zhang Ming, she understood and promptly brought him a bowl of soup, a bowl of rice, and then the main dish.
As he was enjoying the Sour and Fragrant Bone-in Meat, the owner’s wife approached him with narrowed eyes and asked, “Are you satisfied with today’s meal?”
Zhang Ming didn’t hold back in praising her cooking. In casual conversation, he inquired about how they made the bone-in meat so delicious and whether there was a secret recipe. If possible, he expressed his willingness to buy that recipe for a franchise opportunity.
Zhang Ming initially thought that since the owner’s wife seemed inexperienced in business matters, he could easily acquire it with a bit of money. However, to his surprise, she flatly refused him right away.
The boss lady was unaware of Zhang Ming's background and didn't dare to offend him, subtly suggesting that he abandon his intentions.
When Zhang Ming's plan fell through, he quickly devised another scheme. He suddenly clutched his stomach, feigning intense pain, and asked the boss lady if he could take the leftover food home.
He knew there was a rule here: no takeout orders were allowed. However, if he played it right, he might be able to take the leftovers.
After a moment of hesitation, the boss lady saw his pained expression and reluctantly agreed, turning to head into the kitchen for a takeout bag. Zhang Ming felt a surge of joy inside but kept his composure.
The boss lady soon returned with a bag and a container, helping him pack up the remaining dishes before handing them over.
Once outside the restaurant, Zhang Ming called a friend who was knowledgeable about cooking, asking him to help figure out the recipe.
His friend, surnamed Song, had been in the culinary industry for many years. After just one taste, Lao Song could identify several ingredients but couldn't determine what kind of meat was used.
No matter how he cooked it, he couldn't replicate that unique tangy flavor.
This left Zhang Ming feeling somewhat disheartened; he had thought that having someone experienced taste the dish would lead him to the secret recipe.
Clearly, since the boss allowed him to take the food away, she knew he wouldn't be able to find the original ingredients and seasonings.
This situation kept him awake at night. He wandered aimlessly outside, lost in thought. He didn't realize how far he had walked until he found himself on an unfamiliar road.
He realized he was lost and began to panic as he searched for a way back.
The more anxious he became, the more mistakes he made.
Suddenly, he tripped and lost his balance, falling face-first into the dirt. Rubbing his sore chin, he turned to see what had caused him to stumble.
It was a pair of extremely thin legs sprawled on the ground, looking up at him through the dim light. The owner of those legs was a disheveled beggar, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes, as if cursing him for disturbing his peace.
Zhang Ming felt a pang of guilt and, sharing a similar background of poverty, couldn't help but feel sympathy.
The beggar showed no appreciation for Zhang Ming's apology; instead, he appeared numb to the world, closing his eyes and curling up in the corner, ignoring Zhang Ming completely.
Confused by the situation, Zhang Ming felt pity for the beggar. At such a young age, he had fallen into despair—perhaps he had faced some hardship. Searching through his own pockets, Zhang Ming found only a handful of coins.
He placed the money in front of the beggar and draped his coat over him. Battling against the strong wind, he offered some kind words, urging the beggar to take care of himself in the big city.
Afterward, he continued his search for a way home. He wandered through winding alleys until he gasped in shock at what lay before him: a graveyard filled with countless mounds of earth.
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