Pow!

make of themselves.

    My challengers were Liu Shengli (Victory Liu), Feng Tiehan (Ironman Feng) and Wan Xiaojiang (Water Rat Wan). Liu, a big swarthy man with large staring eyes, was in the habit of rolling up his sleeves when he spoke. A coarse individual, he'd started out as a pig butcher. Since he was surrounded by animal flesh all day long, you'd have thought he'd gained some insight into the nature of meat. Now, gambling on meat-eating was stupid, but that's what he wanted to do so he must have had something up his sleeve. As they say: Good tidings don't just show up, and what shows up isn't always good. I'd have to keep my eye on him. Tall, skinny Feng, with his sallow complexion and bent back, looked like a man who'd just recovered from a serious illness. People with his complexion were rumoured to possess unique and astonishing skills. I'd once heard a blind storyteller say that among the hundred and eight Ming Dynasty bravehearts were several sallow-faced ones who were blessed with extraordinary fighting skills. I'd have to keep my eye on him too. Wan, nicknamed Water Rat, was small in stature, had a pointy mouth, cheeks like a chimp and triangular eyes. A first-rate swimmer, he could catch fish underwater with his eyes open. I'd heard nothing about him or any special capacity for meat, but everyone knew he was a champion watermelon-eater, and anyone who wants to be a champion eater must gain that reputation through competitions—it was the only way. Wan Xiaojiang once put away three whole watermelons by attacking them as if he were playing a harmonica, side to side, back and forth, spitting out the black seeds as he went along. Another one to keep my eye on.

    I set out for the contest site. Jiaojiao walked behind me with a teapot. Her face was set tight, her forehead beaded with sweat.

    ‘Don't be scared, Jiaojiao,’ I said with a laugh.

    ‘I'm not.’ She wiped her forehead with her sleeve. ‘I know you'll win.’

    ‘Yes, I will,’ I said. ‘So would you, if you took my place.’

    ‘No,’ she said. ‘My stomach isn't big enough yet. But some day.’

    ‘Jiaojiao,’ I said, taking her hand, ‘we were sent down to earth to eat meat. Each of us is slated to eat twenty tonnes of it. If we don't, Yama won't let us in the underworld door. That's what Lao Lan said.’

    ‘Great,’ she said. ‘But let's stick around after the twenty tonnes and then go for thirty. How much is thirty tonnes?’

    ‘Thirty tonnes.’ I had to think for a minute. ‘It would make a little mountain of meat.’

    She burst into happy laughter at the thought.

    Turning at the meat-cleansing workshop door, we spotted a crowd in front of the kitchen at the same time as the crowd spotted us: ‘Here they are…’

    Jiaojiao gripped my hand tightly.

    ‘Don't be scared,’ I said.

    ‘I'm not.’

    The crowd parted to let us to walk up to the contest site. Four tables had been set up, each backed by a stool. My rivals were waiting. Liu Shengli bellowed at the kitchen door: ‘Ready, Huang Biao? I can't wait any longer—I'm starved!’

    Wan Xiaojiang went in and came right back out. ‘What an aroma!’ he rhapsodized. ‘Meat, ah, meat, how I pine for you! Even my mother pales beside a plate of braised beef.’

    Feng Tiehan was perched on his stool, smoking a cigarette, the picture of calm, as if the contest had nothing to do with him.

    I nodded a greeting to the people who were staring at my sister and me, their looks either curious or reverential. Then I went over and sat on the stool next to Feng Tiehan. Jiaojiao stood beside me. ‘I'm a little scared,’ she whispered.

    ‘Don't be,’ I said.

    ‘Want some tea?’

    ‘No.’

    ‘I have to pee.’

    ‘Go on. Behind the kitchen.’

    The crowd was whispering back and forth, too softly for me to hear, but I could guess what they were saying.

    Feng Tiehan offered me a cigarette.

    ‘No,’ I said. ‘Smoking affects the taste buds. Even the best meat loses its taste.’

    ‘I shouldn't be doing this with you,’ he said. ‘You're just a boy. I'd hate it if something happened to you.’

    I just smiled.

    Jiaojiao returned and said softly: ‘Lao Lan's here, but not Dieh or Niang.’

    ‘I know.’

    Liu Shengli and Wan Xiaojiang took their places behind their tables, Liu next to me and Wan next to him.

    ‘We're all here,’ Lao Lan announced. ‘So we can start. Where's Huang Biao? Ready, Huang Biao?’

    Huang Biao rushed out of the kitchen wiping