Eating dolphins, almost dying.
For food, I’m different, not much known, less chance to try. When you’re reading, you eat crotch. Then every time I looked back at the toilet, the floating toilet paper was a memory of childhood. I do not like sweet food, fear not spicy, and have never been in line for any food, thinking about a restaurant. Shrimp noodles and lobster rice, for me, are the same species.
Although, as far as I know, 1.3 billion people on Earth eat food and live in the same amazing country as my friend, Big Brother Doo, who we call “speak.”
Some of the girls say in private: “Big brother, though he has a nasty mouth, he looks like a plumb, and when she is silent, she is attractive.”
I don’t think so. One time I accidentally showed up and was criticized: jealousy. Actually, I think his face is more of a negative part of the show.
Every word he said seemed to preach the truth, fearing that even if one sentence was omitted, the opportunity to change life would be lost. He’ll always be in a bad mood.
It’s basically a relic. His mouth never stopped and he could talk for half an hour even if one looked in the mirror. When he was full of wine, he often talked from Einstein about mosquito contraception, and from Zamaria to Fasbinder, he could talk about financial innovation on the Internet a second earlier, and then talk about a trip to Yunnan to eat saffron… either chewing a roasted cow tongue or licking Hagendas ice cream. For a long time, the name of the word “speaks” has been the name of Doo-hyun. As my best friend, Big Brother always wanted to change my values, to do anything, to draw me into the law of dark matter. In the few years since the 13-heavy lobsters had flourished, he used to drag me around in the middle of the night in a variety of libraries, and showed me how to pull out the band behind them, which was said to be the most heavy place for toxins and heavy metals.
But I never did what he wanted. Late in the winter, Wu Gang Road was still unreformed, and I asked a question — is there anything in the world you haven’t eaten? And he thought deeply: “Hegel, Verbaha, Nietzsche, Freud, etc., spits a plumb of white breath into the cold sky, saying: “The best way to die is to eat the poach.
Next spring, Big Brother Doo invited me to eat dolphins on the island. At the time, I had just finished writing ” Village Apartments ” and ” The 19th Floor of Hell ” , doing an industry yearbook to nine to five in the ancient building of the Shanghai Post Office. I’ve never eaten the legendary poison dolphins, but I’ve heard that the dolphins are now man-made and seem dangerous and safe.
King lives in Yangtze, I live in Yangtze. When I was 10 years old, I crossed the Yangtze River by boat, leaving the 16th line by the Huangpur River, and it took me all night to reach the northern shore of the river. I’m not interested in dolphins, but I’d like to see how it feels to hit water in the middle and look out for the river.
At that time, the bridge and tunnel between Chong Ming Island and Shanghai had not yet begun, but the pier had been moved to Wu Xian. I took the subway for an hour and arrived early at the scheduled time. As usual, it was only late until the last minute that Doo slowly stormed the gate and dragged me to the ferry to China’s third largest island.
In the evening, from the upper sunset, a vast mouth of the Yangtze. I look down on the rails and let the wind blow my hair, and I wonder whether the sunset comes from the Western Mahal isth or from the Yellow Crane Building or Mount Purple. The river is full of ships and boats, and there is no shortage of canoes and slabs. The masters say as well: fishermen are fishing for the river, which is fresh — dolphins, fish and swordfish.
The ferry arrived on Chongming Island and it was completely dark. There are no high-rises on the island. Just out of the dock, it’s a green field. I don’t see half a man, but he went back a hundred years ago. Think of “The Island Fright”.
He was trying to yell at him about how he had arranged it.
That’s what he ordered? Car body stains are darker than at night, as if they were dispersed at any time, with chicken dung marks on their seats, and duck hairs float from time to time.
It was not until the easternmost edge of the island, close to the east sea and the beach, that there was a two-storey farmhouse.
I got out of the car, my feet were soft and muddy, there were no street lights, the moon was bright, the air was almost clear and transparent, and the salty smell of the sea wind…
There is only one room upstairs, two men, one large bed to serve. I’m sorry, I haven’t lost my sleeve. I’m looking for the boss for the other room, and then I’m gonna…
There’s nothing left. I’ve known this guy, “Speech” who’s done his dirty work, and he’s mad at me for believing his bullshit and scolding him with his head and face, and he’s a bitch.
We haven’t eaten yet. We’re hungry. The chef of the dolphin, who owns the farm, listens to the pan in the kitchen downstairs, wonders: Tonight, we’ll both die here? Nonsense, the owner is an ancestral craftsman, and hundreds of years ago, when the battle began in Chongming Island, he became a dolphin. Ten minutes later, the fragrance came close and the boss came to the table with a plate, a small, grotesque fish, and the belly of the drums, as if it were a stabbing ball, with fear.
Springside sprouts, spring banks and flowers. The dolphins are the most expensive shrimp-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo! North Song Mayozen’s poem, also written by Sutung Hill — the shortness of the luminous luminous sprouts is when the dolphins are ready.
Don’t they know they eat dead people? Du Chong replied that Sudong Poe said that the dolphins smelled “value for death” and that Zoxi wrote “sexually toxic” in Triple Tudor. The Book of the Peace also says, “If the old clouds are not cooked, the eaters will die.” The cook ate a little porpoise and drank half of his soup. He says if I’m alive in 15 minutes, you can eat it with confidence. He said he took up a cigarette, put on a bottle of bad white wine and sat at the farmhouse and watched the moon.
I asked how much for this fish. Not expensive, 1 8.
I checked the prices online. How could they be so ridiculous?
Saying: “You see, there are porcelain dolphins out there. Where is this wild beauty?” I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, it just came from the Yangtze today. If you regret it, it’s not too late.
Scared of his bird. I’m talking like that, but I’m playing the drum. Every spring, dolphins migrate from the East Sea to lay their eggs. Fish-filled dolphins, most beautiful. Of course, it’s the most toxic. A dolphin’s toxin, enough to kill 30 adults. There was a very famous singer who ate four of his livers and died with a happy smile, and Japan legislated a fasting of the dolphins.
How dare you eat? Wild dolphins, who cut their eyes, went to fish and intestines, stabbed themselves on their backs, had to clean up the blood trails and skin them, and if they did not burn, they would surely die. So I looked in silence into the eyes of the Big Brother, as if the eye of a dolphin had been crushed, and looked at me for a long time. On the night of the spring wind, the windows opened and looked far ahead at the moonlight, the white fog in the wild and the Yangtze and the East tide. 15 minutes. Outside the door, the cook lives, drinking half a bottle of white wine, and his face looks like liver. Back at the table, Ducah picked up chopsticks and prayed devoutly to the dolphins on board — sorry, dolphins. This evening is beautiful. Please go to our brother’s womb and help you to go to the world of joy, remember that you will come back to my temple.
Come on, he shaved a white piece of fish and licked it with his tongue before the entrance, with a happy look, and it was so vivid.
Well, I’m not greedy about food, I really don’t want to be despised. This guy’s a coward.
I tasted a small sip, which is hardly easy to describe in human terms, and I couldn’t help but pick up the sip and drink half a mouth of thick soup.
The world! Go, go, go, go, go, go! Eating this dolphin, using about two cigarettes, but in my memory, it seems,
For half a lifetime. At that moment, I was desperate to believe that I was about to be assimilated to one of the 1.3 billion people who had eaten. For some reason, my feet are shaking, and I struggle to move to the window, so that the sea wind can wet my eyes and eat the heat of tears? And behold, the sound of a sharp sound is as if it were falling from the clouds around the moonlight. Go back to my friend, Big Brother Toshio, and fall like a dead body at the foot of the table. It’s pale, it’s flat, it’s still smelly, but it’s too weak to notice.
The eaters will surely die — the last word of “speaks”. The dolphin is poisonous. He’s dying! I was shaking and running outside the farmhouse and looking for help. But I found out that the cook of the dolphins fell in the mud, and I couldn’t get up. The chef ate the first porpoise and must have been poisoned. The moonlight went into the clouds and the night of mass suicide. Near the night, the island ‘ s most remote and desolate end, with no buildings and no people around it, and no cell phone signals. The shadows are full of shadows and reeds.
I ran wildly towards the outside, covered in a mud and beach, dark black holes, lost in the direction, and the tide was flooding my ankles with the smell of puff crabs, yellow fish, seagulls.
All of a sudden, I cry like a coward. I didn’t know how long I’d been in the wilderness, and I was going to come back and collect his body, and I was thinking about how to pay for his family’s death. God damn it, I’ve got a stomach ache.
However, the phrase disappeared. Looking for his body upstairs, he was seen in the guest room — sitting on a wooden bed by the window, sucking a box of milk in his mouth and playing with his hands. Doo-jin looked up, looked at my face with tears on it and laughed with his belly: Shit! You really cried? I’m sorry.
Dude, I just lied to you. I’m willing to die if I finish this dolphin.
That moment, I wanted to kill him. I’ll lie that he’s been swept away by the midnight tide, in fact buried in the deepest of the beaches. Many years later, when they found him, they were nothing but a pile of broken bones.
But there’s another man behind me — the farmer’s boss and cook, who just woke up drunk and threw up in his mouth with a door frame and with an empty white bottle in his hand.
On the longest night, Big Brother’s face became a little scary: hey, I’m just kidding.
I remember this son of a bitch saying that his dream was to be an actor, the Konstantin Stanislavsky system, who used to wear “The Actor’s Self-Assorption”.
I left alone in the direction of the interior of the island, walking throughout the night, until the nearest town was light.
I haven’t seen “speak” since. He disappeared from my world about “speak.” Two years ago, I had a meeting with a couple of old friends, and there was a renaming of the name, one saying that he had gone to the United States, and another saying that Doo-Chu had sent cross-references in Hong Kong or in a prison in a north-west province. I’m scared to hear the last possible news — he’s dead.
Over the years, I have had countless opportunities to eat food in the north and south of the world, but I have never been a food eater. I kept an unusually simple diet, constant weight, and…
There’s a voice. And my aesthetic standards for food only remain on a level that doesn’t starve.
In the spring of 2014, more than 10 years ago, I received a text message…
“Cai Chun, it’s me. It’s been a long time. I miss you so much. This Sunday, at 6:00 p.m., I’ll be waiting for you at the boat wharf No. 19 by the river. I’m sorry.
I’ve never deleted this number, and the phone screen is called “Doo Hao” with a little tremor in the heart and a sense of insinuation.
Actually, I’m not interested in yachts, just, some miss him. The following evening, driving to the yacht pier, the guards asked me if I had an invitation. I called Doo-hyo, nobody answered. At this point, several luxury cars stopped at the side of the road, from the low-key Rolls-Royce to Zhang Lamborghini, and several men wearing sunglasses. I look around, anxiously, and I want to see his figure — with the bright face of my brother — hard to hide.
Suddenly, a waiter came to me and asked, “Are you Mr. Choi?” I nod my head.
There’s a black invitation on the tray, my name is on it, and there’s two books — a dinner. He arrived at the yacht pier and saw a large yacht in a very cool shape. Unlike the usual yacht color, the vessel is black and could be invisible in the middle of the night. It’s good for me to get on the boat and get down with the waves. Unfortunately, there are only two young male waiters on the yacht.
I’m a little nervous, and I’m afraid to arrest someone for asking, to avoid being embarrassed. I leaned on the side of the ship, looking at the other guests, one of whom was an Internet man, almost at the same level as Mayun and Liu Qiandong. Two others are familiar, either in some kind of television financial programme or in some top brand ad. However, none of the rich had a date. The yacht anchored, and Huang Po wind hit me from all sides, freezing my arms. The water mixed up upstream mud, mid-stream industrial pollution, and the downstream sea smell reminds me of the night of the wild dolphins on the island 10 years ago.
All the guests were seated on the first floor of the yacht, with no head count, for a total of twenty-one. Three of these women are not very good-age girls, and their face is not as good or as ugly. The oldest one is at least 50 years old, although it has heavy makeup.
Eighteen to three, and three like that? Isn’t this the version of the sea-day feast a little bit heavy tonight?
Actually, I still like Little New. I’m most disappointed that I didn’t find any sign of Big Brother Toshio. Did he have a plastic surgery?
Each guest had a number plate in his hand, which was the last one in my hand, and, under the guidance of the waiter, the guests from number 1 to number 7, went first to the restaurant on the second floor of the yacht.
It turns out that this “night party” is to be used in turn, and the remaining 14 people are in place to prohibit the use of mobile phones. There is no wine and no high-quality fruit, and each has only a glass of white water.
I look out of the yacht at Huang Pojiang, the east bank’s Lukjik, the LED curtain wall of Citigroup Building, and Iloveshanhai’s colored light, behind Kim.
Moo House and the Worldwide Financial Centre. The centre of Shanghai, which is under construction, is 500 metres high, the building is upside-down, the clouds are dark, and the starlight is not visible.
Actually, I’m watching everyone’s face. While silent, I can see from the eyes of several of them some exciting expectations, while hiding tension and anxiety. Even, it’s like a little bit of something to eat.
Half an hour later, the first seven guests came down, and someone wiped their mouths off the cloth. This meal is so fast, don’t tell me it’s a noodles and a lunch sausage.
The second group of guests then went upstairs. And I naturally have to wait until the third. To the end.
The people who came down were sitting next to me, showing their satisfaction and making me see happiness. A man who is awakened with tears as if there was no regret in his life could be sent to the crematorium immediately.
This makes me increasingly suspicious, and I’ve heard that drug use has a similar effect, for example, among those of Wei Jinh. The riverine and sandstone ships continue to pass around the flagpost of the river’s mouth, almost wiping a ton of giant ships. I look at the containers across the ship, whether they come from North America or Europe, or, in short, another far-off corner.
I want to jump off this dangerous yacht and swim across the beach. But I can’t swim.
When I was a kid, I had relatives in Pudong, and I used to take the ferry from Wong Po River. They took the bow of the ship, looked at the snow and the snow, went to the customs clock, the roof of the ancient Chinese bank building. It’s as if it’s an illusion. When they grow up, they occasionally come to the outer beach to see all-out land highs and all-colored cruise ships passing through the river.
Tonight, I was on a yacht, doing people’s sights. The second group of guests came down. Some wept and others trembled. The man who was at the top of the list of rich people looked like an idiot, stretched his head out of the window and drew a cross.
My turn. After two rounds of waiting, there was some hunger in the stomach and self-conscious tolerance. In the order of the numbers, I stepped into the top of the yacht at the end of the seven people, with a high wind and a high wave, holding hands and entering the restaurant.
A narrow, second-floor cabin, with only one dome, just cleaned up. Each person has a standard set of dishes and the waiter has prepared your napkins. I rubbed my face with a hot towel, and the drinks came out of the water, and there was a little sauce, a little snorting, and mustard sauce.
A dolphin? In the midst of doubt, the waiter has taken up good food, and there is only a sharp tongue in a large pottery plate.
Huh? I can’t help but hold my glasses. I don’t know what this is. But whatever shape, colour or texture, there is no difference to the tongue — especially in the position of the tip of the tongue, the sense of the fork, and the graft under the tongue, it is amazing.
It can’t be a bull’s tongue. I opened the menu at hand and realized that it was the only dish in all, the name — the tip of the tongue. What meat? Or is it some kind of vegan? Tofu is said to be imitating a lot of food. But I’m not eating, I don’t understand. But it’s almost certain that the tongue does not go through any cooking.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s fried, fried, fried, salted, baked, served, stewed, roasted, steamed or not. It’s just, after the chef simply handled it, maybe…
Ice? Save the juice.
The tip of the tongue?
Other predators, though curious, devout, salivating, not as shocked as I am, must be prepared for anyone on this ship.
At that time, the waiter had cut his tongue to the point with a cleavage, giving an average of seven to be delivered to each guest in turn.
And he shall not bow down, but he shall lay three inches beneath my tongue, one seventh of the tip of his tongue.
The other six have been strung up with chopsticks, carefully strung up, put into mustard sauce, to a small extent, and sent to the entrance. A little bit of chewing, like a taste in it, so that it doesn’t swallow the palms and the sky, and it doesn’t eat the fruits.
One person ate and cried in two rows, but not mustard. There are also people with hands tied together, who pray in silence. There was a middle-aged woman, who wiped away her mouth, was shamed and red, and returned to her first night.
It’s just me, the small tip of the plate, still intact. Sir, this dish is fresh. Leave the freezer. If it’s more than 10 minutes, it tastes bad.
The waiter in this room said it in half, and thought it was Mr. Dan’s high school student? So, at this urging and with the eyes of the other six, I was as if a criminal had been put on the stage of the Conference. The look of 12 eyes burned 12 holes in my face. The chopsticks trembled, and their lips were shaking, and they were caught two times before they lifted up one seventh of the tip of the tongue.
Put it under the light, carefully, from the red blood color, the radish road, the super-flexible band, thin, as if, almost — I’ve seen it, no, it’s him.
The finger can’t hold on any longer, as if the tongue on the chopsticks were heavier than anything else. Pop…
One in seven tongues, falling on the floor of the restaurant. The silence, the earth’s shaking, the second, forgetting to be on the yacht, thought it was an earthquake, and thought it was a sudden current in the Yellow River. That was followed by a wave of screams, followed by curses, which were largely a tribute to my ancestors and an expression of my desire to die immediately. Several of the men were on the ground, scrambling in order to grab the tip of their tongues, with tens of thousands of suits and shoes covered with run-down sauce and mustard. Who ate the tip of the tongue? And I, on my knees in the corner, threw up madly — out of my ramen lunch.
This is the night of the yacht, never before. The waiter threw me out of the restaurant in anger.
And what happened after that, like a hangover, I can’t remember but I’ve lost sight of what I’ve been abandoned. I don’t know what time it is.
It’s still hard to stomach, but I’m sure I haven’t eaten anything on board, except water — what would it be?
The nearby high-rises were out of light, and I was in the middle of the night long before I found my car in the parking lot.
There’s a man standing by my car. Fear of thieves, turn on the flashlight of the phone and light a strange face. Although, ten years ago, he was stripped after countless trials.
The stones fell in the tombs, but I knew him.
Big Brother? “Speak” nods, but never talks and stares in the eyes as if it had not slept for days.
In the face of such appalling silence, I have made another long line of remarks. From the look of his eyes, I can see that he understood but could not answer.
Doo-hyo is so thin, so thin. In a cheap jacket, like a long stick, picks a few lines of rotting meat.
Suddenly, some heartache. Pull the door. I asked him to sit on the co-pilot, but he didn’t speak. I just wanted to drive him home.
I took out a little book and two pens, turned on the inside light and put it in front of the word. Early in the morning, entering the rhythm of the pen, the river bank of Huangpo, the moon fell silent, and there were people who struggled with the disease… The following secrets, the private room, were circulated, and do not go outside – for 10 years after leaving me, Big Brother Toshio, who had wandered the South for some time, and for which he had read the word “teaching.” In pursuit of good food everywhere, he went to waste and ended up without money. At the foot of the Zephyr mountain, fish chips were cooked for a pot of water, beaten to the point of defecation, and his heart stopped beating and his life was recovered by electric shocks.
Du Hao stayed in Guangzhou for a while and became obsessed with a soup store. The shop is so small and so rotten that rats often come out of the table. Every late night, it’s on and off. He’s the only one left with an old eater. Naturally, the tongue of “speaks” is idle, and it’s always at 1 or 2 a.m. when the old eater is a night owl, he’s not tired of it.
Nine months later, the old eater disappeared. Doo-Chai was alone at the soup store, waiting for him every time after midnight. On the seventh day, the son of an old eater came and said that the old father was dead and that this night was broken by seven.
Old eaters were also old, because of chronically poor eating habits, cancer was detected a year ago and later. The doctor concluded that he would not survive for three months. Old eaters refused a chemotherapy programme and went to their favorite soup store every night to die on their favorite food. I didn’t think that the word was coming out, and that it was a long conversation every night, which left the already desperate old food-eaters out of their misery, and had survived for six months. For many years, the enthusiasts have been trading abroad, amassing billions of dollars, and before dying, have brought in a lawyer, made a will and given Doo more than 10 million to pay for his death.
Big Brother saved the first bucket of gold, didn’t mean to ride in the night and flew back to Shanghai with money. He studied finance and knew that if he didn’t invest it, he would have to be worthless. It seems that today, in this world, there is no business, and only real estate is the most insured.
As a result, he started buying and selling high-level property until he opened his own company for property development. With a three-inch inch incipient, combined with a few plots of land at a low price to the head of a city, he became a billionaire and became a filmmaker.
Doo-Chai cannot change his mind to eat, to look for food everywhere, to fly all over the world, from a Mexican mouse to an African white ants. However, his tongue is getting number, thinking of all kinds of tastes that are too strong and intense, and between sweet spicy, sour, fragrance and ice fire, the taste buds are split and the cortex of the brain deteriorates… It must have tastes that have never been tried before to awaken his tongue.
Almost last year, he was surprised to learn of the existence of the “night party” in a secret circle of developers.
It’s a yacht on the Yellow River, and it’s worth over a billion. The ship, which operates only once a week, receives up to twenty-one guests at a time, and each invitation is worth half a million yuan — more than the most expensive meal you’ve ever had.
Not everyone can get on the boat at the expense of the money, and every guest is subject to strict scrutiny, usually a VIP member, with 100 million assets as the minimum threshold.
For the first time on a “night party” yacht, he wanted to enjoy a full Chinese table, but was told that there were only three dishes on board. Moreover, each customer on board may choose only the first of them. Other food items could only be eaten gradually, with an appointment for next week or even later. I was just about to go crazy, but I saw the other guests, each with more money than he had. He would like to see what kind of food is, which is equivalent to 10 years’ salary for today’s university graduates. The first one, quite famously, is the legacy of the Golden Bottle, the beautiful palm. This dish looks at the beauty of life, but it looks like a human hand. It’s as if it’s in the wrist, as if it’s a sheep’s fat, as if it’s white, as if it’s fine, as if it’s still alive, as if it’s a girl of your age.
The waiter cut the dish in seven pieces and put it in front of him, with an anonymous finger attached to his hand. I’m glad I didn’t find a ring on this finger. At the same time, the other six have enjoyed the perfect food, either by shouting or by being alone.
Doo closes his eyes, his heart is wide open, he pulls it in his mouth. It is not known how it will be, but it is impurified without greasy, and without bones.
That’s what reassured him. He chewed it for 10 minutes and swallowed it all into his stomach with half a million, one in seven. And that moment, as long as 10 years long… ..remembering the night of the wild dolphins on the island, my back, gone all alone and disappeared in the sea’s vast reeds.
That night, Big Brother Toshio got rid of years of insomnia. One night without a dream, he woke up, and he booked the second course next week. It’s night, go up the yacht, line up as usual. Waiting for the second group, the call came to the restaurant, the seven eaters sat down, the waiter boarded the dish, and the ears of a couple. It’s hard to separate genders and looks a little smaller. The ears are thin, almost light, clear, white. The name on the menu is old-fashioned — the window cage. My friend “Speaks” shows a collection of books, and he knows that the “window cage” is called the ear. The ears were cut in seven, and he put them in his mouth with his face. Fresh, slow.
Tastes, swallows all of it in the esophagus and suddenly can’t hear anything. All things are silent, and there is no peace.
Soothing, close your eyes, into an empty world. It was not until he left the yacht that he heard the sound, but he stopped speaking — as if there was an ear, hidden in the stomach, listening to every word of him. In the third week, he ate the last meal of the yacht ‘Nights’ – the tip of his tongue. The tongue in the dining board, which is exceptionally freshly pumped, is like a fish that has just been killed, shaving fish, going into the pelvis and stabbing. When he picks up chopsticks, there’s always the same sadness. Tears fall, one in seven tongues, between lips.
The tip of the tongue and the tip of the tongue, the tangle of the tongue, the kiss of the tongue. Whose tongue is the tip of the tongue?
That night, “Speech” thought it was talking to himself: Hey, man, you’re next.
From then on, every Sunday, he boarded the yacht and took the three dishes. Doo’s self-consciousness is the best time of his life, drug-absorbed… Monday, with all the tastes of his tongue, the plume, the world of joy. Tuesday, a little lonely, the end of the long feast, the end of the night, the end of the candle. And Wednesday, when it is lost, and when it is in the house, and when it is not in the water, and when it is not in the food, even if it is in Porto, Thursday, luck.
It’s good to be in bed for a day, and bad luck is on the streets. On Friday, I miss the evening party two days later, and my mouth is squeaky, and Imbecile. On Saturday, he tried, and fled to the river of Huangpo, wandering through the pier, looking for the eyes of eight women,
On Sunday, you get on a yacht and you taste “a beautiful hand” or “a window cage” or “a tip of the tongue.”
When he tastes the first hand of beauty, he looks at the palms before the waiter cuts into seven.
Some of the lifelines are so short, they’ve been turned into a fragrance. Some of the love threads are broken, and they’re all in the same river.
Big Brother likes to lick a beautiful finger, feel a different fingerprint, see everything she touches — the body of a temporary girl in the first tide, the hand held in the first love of high school, the first flower in the university dormitory.
As for “window cages”, it always makes people quiet. When the ears were chewed out of their teeth, the blanks passed, the sound of sound — the tears of birth, the crazy laughs of kindergarten, the math class in primary school, the first pop song I’ve ever heard, the company’s being called by the boss, the phone recording of the husband’s affair, the ten years before Chen’s concert I didn’t know you were mine…
Of course, the favorite dish is the tongue. A year later, he had contributed more than 26 million to the yacht night party. Although this money is nothing for a developer, he is in greater trouble.
The word has become a stutter.
He’s had no interest in the world since he was obsessed with those three dishes. The only function of “window cages” and “tip-tips” is to enjoy the hands of beauty, thus losing another important ability — he no longer likes to speak, he is silent, he is ashamed to speak.
When he had to express himself in words, his tongue was as stiff as a stone and the smell of the three dishes was stained. So, you can only say the same word for half a day, and listeners can spit their lungs out.
He can no longer lie and deceive. The real-estate business, including government PR, with local district and city leaders at the wine table — all with one mouth. When the tongue is no longer flexible or even silent, the door opened by the tip of the tongue for itself is closed forever.
Just like the building he built, in a matter of weeks, either the building crash collapsed or the money broke into a rotting tail or the government simply took back the land.
And finally, one of the leaders said, “This guy’s not funny anymore. To overstate bankruptcy.
Everyone left him, stripes, nothing. He can’t recover his ability to speak, his tongue seems to be terminally ill. After he had no money, he was naturally unable to attend the evening party and could only groan at the docks, or lie by the rails on the beach, looking for the one on the tip of his tongue in many small and large yachts.
The black, the nightingale yacht, he never saw it on the shore, even when it was lit.
He could no longer eat any other food, as if his tongue could only bear the three dishes, otherwise there would be strong rejection. Only some fluid food is consumed daily, and sometimes the stomach vomits.
The big brother’s weight was rapidly reduced by 30 kg until his bones were as thin as wood and as bones lived at night.
I can’t live anymore. Isn’t it?
He hates himself. Doesn’t everything come from this tongue? There was a VIP platinum card for the yacht evening, which, although there was no money left, had at least the right to call the captain. He’s meeting the yacht owner.
That night, the yacht leaned on the dock and the waiter led him to the restaurant. Seven empty dishes and a white candle. And the candles swayed with a man in the middle of the hill. He was wearing a thick sunglasses, which seemed obscure and difficult to describe. In any case, the owner is mysterious, worthy of the yacht and worthy of the evening feast. It’s the first time Doo-Doo saw him. “Spoken” stuttered — trying to sell his tongue to him as the third course of the week, for the benefit of a wide audience. Mystic bosses were silent for a moment, but did not answer positively, removed their sunglasses and revealed a deep hole in their eyes.
He said he was just waiting to die. When I was young, I was a cook, starting with a big line by the street, going to the specialist’s usual restaurant, then to the guest-side restaurant, and also to the Mischilling’s Western restaurant, a very expensive private dish, a proper Kobe and a cow. In his 35-year-old years of age, he controlled numerous restaurants all over the country, at various levels and in the kitchen system, from the river de Sanya to Taiwan to Xinjiang, and 700 million people a year.
In short, he secretly controls most Chinese stomachs. Three years ago, the boss detected cancer and decided to open the last restaurant before he died.
He had a dream — to attract the richest people of this country into the final realm of the food world, but also to be the most creative, the craziest, the most secretive and the darkest. What kind of food do you want? It’s been a long time, up to swan meat, down to the fruit beavers, down to the dolphins, up to the ants, the underclothes, the musk cat shit coffee beans… We have finished all the animals and plants that we can think of on Earth. How can we meet the Chinese who have an appetite?
“Speak” opens and points to his stiff tongue. The boss is concerned, not by the invention of the modern world, but by the fact that we have a long history of national populism. Zhang Zhang Zhang and Xu Yuyang ate 30,000 people. Zhang Zhang killed the concubines and soldiers and eventually killed all the women in the city, and the bodies were cooked. This is an example of a human being who eats human flesh. He looks cultured, like sitting in front of a view of the 100 House Tribune.
There was a secret report: the richest 500 people from China, 40 per cent of whom were eager to taste human flesh at any cost. A human supply network has been established in a port city in the north. At first, they cut meat and internal organs from those who were about to die, but often they suffered from diseases, some of them from food. Young and healthy men and women had to be found, and some had thought of the death penalty. However, when the power to approve the death penalty is vested in the Supreme Court, the source of the goods becomes more scarce and expensive. The source of the food is beginning to be combined with human trafficking. Some people love to eat child meat, and others send stolen children. Even the parents who were supposed to be animals auctioned their children at high prices. This evil network has grown bigger, with virgin meat, black meat, blonde flesh… and spread to every corner of the globe to satisfy the appetite of the mouth. In a small country in the Eastern European Balkans, there’s a village where children are born to eat for the Chinese, so they don’t have to go to school, but they have to undergo strict physical training so that the flesh is full.
Exposure to heterosexuals. Up to the age of 18, 10 million US dollars each, travel visas to China. In the city’s secret factory, they were processed as cuisine, cuisine, cuisine, cuisine, abdomen, Japanese and Korean food…
Doo-Cha is still not prepared for this. The boss says he’s also sick of this man’s meat network. Three years ago, the crisis broke out, leading figures went to jail, the trade in human flesh was banned by the Government, and China ‘ s rich people ‘ s favorite secret restaurant closed down, and a market vacuum emerged.
However, the three dishes he designed, the “Beauty Hand” “Window Cage” “Tips”, all of which were purchased legally, were never killed for the purpose of obtaining food, nor were there any use of hospital amputations or other medical human waste, including stillborn fetuses, which were illegal and dangerous, but could also contain pathogens that could cause death.
First dish, beautiful palm. For the first time, a girl approached the house. Twenty-four-year-olds, all of them. She has studied the piano since she was a child, and her parents are teachers at the Faculty of Music, ten fingers long and strong, born for the piano, with many international prizes. Who would dare cut off one of her hands? After careful observation, the boss chose her left hand and offered a million dollars. To be honest, a million yuan for a healthy young hand is really not expensive. Besides, a hand like this is priceless in itself.
The owner of the yacht repeatedly asked: “Have you made up your mind?” Until the last minute, she still had a chance to repent. But she shook her head to avoid all the pianos in the world. Anyone who comes on this ship is a storyteller. There must be reasons for being willing to sell a part of the body, but not to say anything.
Second course, window cage. In previous years, there was a hot singer who had won the show in the square. Later, she disappeared, and so far only a few of her loyalists are still missing. The boss told Doo-Cheo– you, once ate a pair of her ears. There are many lives in this world you can’t imagine. One person will never really know another person, even if he or she is your favorite. In any case, all are voluntary and must be 18 years of age, of sound mind and full civil capacity. No one has ever been forced by the yacht, let alone coerced, to buy or sell.
Third course, tip of the tongue. It’s only with these two words that the tip of the tongue of Doo-hyun is a little more normal. The boss replied that the tip of the tongue was not only a tool of human language, but also an entrance to the taste of food. Don’t you taste it? Sichuan girls have all kinds of spicy spicy tastes, Northwestern men’s tongues are full of noodles and Guangdong’s tongues are as thick as soup. The British have the cheapest tongues, and the tasteless, usually mixed with the roasted cow, which is probably where the “John Bull” comes from.
Don’t mention it, Big Brother understands everything. The essence of the three foods in which he is obsessed is that every valuable meal has gone through the care of the poor parents of the world, and has gathered together all life, old age, sickness, death, love, hatred, desire and inclement. On the same day, Dou went to a foreign hospital designated by the evening feast. It has the most advanced medical equipment in the world, confirming that he has no infectious or chronic disease other than hunger and malnutrition. As for his tongue, although he spoke rigidly, the taste bud functioned well, without deformation or other problems.
He entered into a contract for voluntary tongue removal. The operation will take place on the yacht seven days later, today. At 6:00 a.m., Doo-Chae came to Wong Po River. As usual, the pavilion is covered with fog and can’t be seen in the opposite tower. Morning.
The ferry travels slowly, like a pregnant woman carrying a ovary of a baby, phoning a loudspeaker, swallowed up by smoke, and hallucinating into a symphony.
Before he boarded the boat, he saw a young woman in a white windie and standing high behind the pier. The breeze was full of silk, black hair covered her eyes and a pale face.
♪ HOLD AND LOW AS FREE ♪ The Iranians, on the water side. The Big Brother read the verses in his heart, and he never touched any woman since he was obsessed with the three dishes of the yacht. The woman, who had looked upon the river, found him watching, turned her head and looked at him in the dark.
Her right hand is holding a rail, and five fingers are sexy. At the same time, her left hand showed cuffs, but only one bare wrist.
All of a sudden, Doo-Chai felt like he’d seen her, maybe on TV. Many years ago, there was a piano girl who, like Lang Lang, had been reported in many media reports and disappeared somehow.
When he boarded the yacht, he was told that the woman, who sold one of her hands three years ago, had become the first of her beautiful hands. Later, at the morning of Sunday, she appeared on time, silently, for a long time and left alone.
The yacht slowly drove to the heart of the river and was covered with white fog, and she could no longer be seen on the shore. Du went to the bottom, there was a small operating room, two men wearing white coats wearing masks, and only one pair of eyes appeared. He was drugged, laid down and opened his mouth, and a tumbler grabbed his tongue. The anesthesia made him feel nothing as if he was no longer his tongue. In less than two seconds, the knife had cut off his tongue and put his tongue on the tray.
After a simple weighing, this tongue has only 20 grams left and is lightened with blood. It has been sterilized and cleaned, placed in specially made containers and stored in refrigerators. After 12 hours of ice, that tongue will be moved to the dinner table that night.
The effect of the anesthesia had not passed, but he felt much easier and finally dropped the burden on his mouth.
He received a sum of $1 million, of which half a million was spent, and made a reservation for himself. The remaining half a million, he gave me — only one unsold invitation for tonight, he bought it on the spot, and the waiter gave it to me. Why would you do that? With the most precious tongue ever, it was its own grave. He wants me to eat his tongue? So he explained it with a pen.
“Cai, you’re my best friend, no matter how much you hate me. Ten years ago, I wanted to apologize for eating wild dolphins on the island. I’m just trying to make you a edible. On several occasions, I saw you in the paper signing books, whispering in your readers. Sometimes I come to you in line with your book, but you just hurry to sign, and not look at me.
I wonder what time and when I can really make you understand — I still want to be good friends with you. I have no more time, and I will not have a chance until I am buried in a grave. Why don’t you taste the most important part of me? Although my tongue is no longer flexible, the memory of the taste bud is still there. In other words, eating this tip of the tongue is a one-time taste of all the good things in the world, and it is a dead end. I’m sorry.
I couldn’t eat a part of his tongue. Under the sad lamp in the car, “speak” opened and no tongue was seen, with only half a tongue remaining.
And he shook his head with regret, and cried in two rows, and fell from his cheeks, and his little book was filled,
“I just yearn for my tongue to meet your tongue in such a way. Let part of my body stay in your body forever. On the Wong Po River, on a yacht night, on the tip of the tongue. I’m sorry.
So, on the longest night, I hugged him. His body is cold.
Big Brother Doo grabbed my hand, let go 10 seconds later, opened the door and died in the dark.
I slowly began to believe that — life is full of joy and sorrow. Three days later, I got an obituary from Toshio. Although, the truth of this matter is highly doubtful. After all, 10 years ago, this guy pretended to lie to me once, but I went to a funeral home. This time, he’s really hot.
He smiled in the black box… Many years ago, every time he talked and pulled a martyr’s face, I thought about it. I didn’t guess the beginning, but I guess the end, I guess.
The funeral was attended by only a few people, and there was only one wreath. Big Brother doesn’t have any family. He broke up with his friends. What was the relationship with him when he came to give him a last ride?
But I recognized a few faces…
It’s… it’s… it’s just last week. The waiter at the yacht dinner? Yes, he carried the tray and sent me the invitation.
Yeah, there’s another one standing next to me, cutting the tip of the tongue into seven pieces, and then kicking me out of the waitress.
Wait, I saw the captain of the yacht. That night, I envied him for the wheel. That’s how I see it. It’s all about the crew on the nightingale. What’s even more surprising is that they call the owner of the portrait. I started to split up. I grabbed the captain and the cook before the music started, and wanted to know the truth immediately. The truth is this — three years ago, the real estate developer and filmmaker Toto was forced to leave the country because he had offended officials. With his last savings, he purchased yachts from abroad. As a senior eater, he has developed three recipes of his life: “Beautiful Hand” “The Window Cage” “Tips”. He brought together the captain, cook, waiter and the general sales director of luxury goods, converted the yacht into a black water restaurant and created a secret “night party” brand.
The festivities of the evening meal business became a symbol of the price of rich people in China, as the beauty of a car. Anyone who has not been on this black yacht is embarrassed to go to IPO1. The yacht owner, who was behind the scenes, did not usually show his true face but hid behind a mirror every night at dinner.
However, a year ago, Ducah was suddenly diagnosed with cancer. Telecommunications cancer.
This is a form of oral cancer, which is said to result from eating too much of what should not be eaten. Although he was in the middle of the spring and autumn, he had said that others had been able to speak for many lifetimes, and that the combination of causes caused cancer to develop. He tried to kill himself once if he had to cut off his tongue to survive.
Finally, Du Chiu chose the latter between the tip of the tongue and life. He quickly completed his tongue removal, which was completely cut from the root, and seemed very successful, with all cancer cells eliminated. After losing his tongue, he turned from a “speaker” to a mute. Moreover, he lost interest in food because he could no longer taste anything, including the three dishes he himself invented. He spent the darkest six months of his life like a walker, until, when he went to the hospital for review, he accidentally discovered that cancer cells had risen, which had been transferred to the brain. Man, you can cut off your tongue, but you can’t cut off your brain. He was so sorry, so he should have died. A week ago, the tongue-free “speaks” became ill and dying. He escaped from the intensive care ward and prepared an invitation for me, while putting a drop needle in his hand and hiding behind the mirror of the restaurant.
In the early hours of the day, his body was found in a parking lot by the dock. According to surveillance records from the parking lot, Doo got into my car and we had a pen conversation for about two hours. Then he got off alone. As I drove away, he fainted in the dark corner and never woke up.
And that night I hugged him and said farewell, and that is his farewell. And most of the stories he wrote to me were made up of lies, and they were his best.
And I was the last person he saw in his life. Speaking of the truth, I have fully understood — Big Brother just wanted to mock me again before he died.
I have to admit, this guy’s got a good show. What kind of man, what kind of mind would perform with life? The chef also told me that a secret, the so-called “night party”, was used to deceive the rich. In fact, the “pretty palm” is a pig’s hand, the “window cage” is a pig’s ear, and the “twilight tip” is a pig’s tongue, disguised as a human shape, with a unique artificial pigmentation and mosaic, which makes it smell like human flesh. All the food on board the yacht is worth no more than $200.
Speaking of which, there’s a melody, and Du Chou’s employees bow to the boss. It turns out his management team is a success, and at least everyone’s thinking about him.
And instead of bowing, I went around behind the black lid and saw the dead in the crystal coffin.
There is no doubt that the body is a body which, despite its makeup, is clearly different from the living.
Words are finally dead. My finger, cut through the glass, cold as a hot hand, placed on his lips, without the most important part. When the cry was over, the body was looked upon and someone was holding a porcelain jar as if the Big Brother had been burned to ashes. The cook spins the jar, carefully pulls out a bottle of glass, fills it with liquids like alcohol and a tip of the tongue. He states that, after completing the hysterectomy, Ducah asked the doctor to return his tongue and to put alcohol in the bottle. And behold! I remember the former eunuchs, who treasured their seed with lime cans.
According to the will of Doo-ha, this tip of the tongue will be given to me as a last gift.
X, why don’t you give me a yacht? Still, I took this bequest, and I looked inside the bottle, bloated with alcohol, filled with cancer cells, and I still looked familiar. In half an hour, I saw Big Brother Doo put in a crematorium. There is no undisclosed feast. But for me, unfortunately — no one has lied to me to pretend to be dead.
I put my tongue in my hand, which is the last part of his life. The day when the Word will be burned to ashes, it will coincide with the Sunday, the first seven. Morning, 6:00. I came to Huangpur River, the yacht dock. The sky is covered with light, the wind, and the moon. The one-unique black yacht disappeared and was reportedly auctioned by Doo-Chu debtors. Empty
There are only a few stray cats on the wharf. In the vicinity, wildcats are often caught and cooked, or sent into a street row to be roasted, disguised as lamb or beef … I opened a bottle of glass in my hand, immersed in alcohol and dumped on the wooden floor of the pier.
A few hungry cats, running in the smell, sniffing around a few laps and eating with their tongues. They’re in the corner, and there’s only a trace of alcohol on the ground, and there’s a human smell.
I think it’s the best place for him and it. When I turned away, I found a young woman standing behind me.
I’d like to ask her for a tweet or QQ. But I don’t know if she’s looking at me, or the river behind me, or the black yacht that disappeared. Wind, blow her long hair. She reached out to her right hand, five fingers, white and white, and was born for the piano, with ivory combs, and over-front hair. Her left hand, however, remained hidden in the deep cuffs closes her eyes and does not dare to look for another second. My wrists, my ears and my tongue stings in secret. Eat your food. Watch your tongue.
1 Internal Public Services, first-time open-source company.
