Pow!

doesn't miss a beat. ‘Nearsighted? I don't care if they made me blind.’ A desk clock in the corner chimes two, and a pale-faced woman comes into the main room followed by a trio of tall young women. ‘They're here, Mr Lan,’ she says softly. The young women, faces devoid of expression, follow their leader into the bedroom. ‘Showtime,’ announces Lan Laoda. ‘Anyone want to watch?’ ‘Who wouldn't want to watch the finest show in town?’ laughs Baldy. ‘You're all welcome,’ says Lao Lan, also laughing, ‘no tickets necessary.’ Then he steps into the bedroom and, in a matter of minutes, come the sound of flesh pounding flesh and a woman's moans. Baldy tiptoes to the bedroom door and peeks inside. ‘That isn't a man in there,’ he says to the red-faced fellow, ‘that's the legendary Wutong Spirit !’

    I snuck into the kitchen and sat on my low stool. Huang Biao, attentive as always, set the taller stool in front of me. ‘What would you like, Director Luo?’ he asked, fawning.

    ‘What do you have today?’

    ‘Pork rump, beef tenderloin, sheep leg, dog cheek.’

    ‘I need to keep my wits about me today, so none of those.’ I twitched my nose. ‘Got any donkey? Donkey always gives me a clear head.’

    ‘But…’

    ‘But what?’ That did not please me. ‘You can pull the wool over my eyes but you can't pull it over my nose. I smelt donkey the minute I walked in.’

    ‘There's no putting anything over you,’ Huang Biao said. ‘I do have donkey, but it's for Boss Lan. He's entertaining some VIPs from the municipal government tonight.’

    ‘Donkey? For the VIPs? Is it that little black donkey over from South Mountain?’

    ‘Yes. Meat so good I could eat half a pound of it myself—raw.’

    ‘And you plan to give it to those men? What a waste!’ I was beside myself. ‘Cook up a couple of chunks of camel. Their mouths and tongues will be so numb from liquor and cigarettes that they won't be able to tell the difference.’

    ‘But Boss Lan will…’

    ‘Take him aside and tell him you fed the donkey to Xiaotong. He won't mind.’ I was not interested in making things easy for Huang Biao.

    ‘I'm not happy about feeding this meat to those louts either. I'd rather feed it to that dog in the doorway.’

    ‘Is that snide comment meant for me?’

    ‘Oh, no,’ Huang Biao rushed to his own defence. ‘You could give me two more gonads and I still wouldn't have the balls to do that. Besides, we've been friends for a long time. And the only reason I've been able to keep my job here is because I've got you, a gourmand, to back me up. My cooking skills have not gone to waste if they've managed to make you happy. Just watching you eat meat—I'm not just saying this—is a true pleasure, more satisfying than embracing my wife in bed—’

    ‘Enough sweet talk,’ I said impatiently. ‘Bring out the donkey meat.’ I loved being flattered but I didn't want to show it. I couldn't let any of those petty individuals see what made me so special. No, I had to remain a mystery to them, full of complexities. I had to make them forget my age and remember my authority.

    Huang Biao went over to a cupboard behind the stove and brought out the portion of donkey meat, lovingly wrapped in a fresh lotus leaf, and placed it on the stool in front of me. What I need to make clear here is that, given my special status and position, I could have had him deliver the meat to me in my office. But I've always been particular about my surroundings when I eat, like the big cats that take their kill back to their lairs and then eat it an unhurried pace. A tiger takes its kill to its den, a panther to the crotch of its favourite tree. An unhurried meal in a safe and familiar spot is the height of enjoyment. Ever since the day I first stole into the plant's kitchen through the sewage ditch, and was rewarded by a truly satisfying meal, I'd developed a fondness for this spot, like a conditioned reflex. Other comforts included sitting on the same low stool, having the same tall stool in front of me and eating out of the same bowl while keeping an eye on the same pot. I must admit that my motivation for wanting to work at United, and then for working as hard as I did, was so that I could sit in the kitchen and enjoy a proper meal of our meat products whenever I wanted. So that I never had to steal in through the sewage ditch like a dog, sneak a bowlful of meat and then sneak out the same way. Imagine wallowing