Human Wontons

On August 8, 2017, at 3am, in Jiangbin City.

Under the pitch black night sky, the hustle and bustle of the city has long faded away, replaced by an unsettling silence. Aunt Zhang lit up the incandescent lamp in the small shed, shuddered as she put on her clothes, quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face, and tidied up her hair. She dare not look in the mirror, because legend has it that at this moment, another terrifying face will be reflected in the mirror.

Aunt Zhang is a devout Buddhist, which is related to her living in the countryside for most of her life. The deep night in the countryside was pitch black, giving villagers endless imagination and making them believe in ghosts and gods. However, in the early morning of the city, although the streets were also deserted, there were dim yellow street lights illuminating them, which made Aunt Zhang feel somewhat at ease. She pushed the garbage truck and slowly arrived at the commercial square in Ning'an District.

Like the vast majority of cleaners, Aunt Zhang comes from a neighboring province. More than ten years ago, she came to Jiangbin City with her husband to work. She started as a janitor, while her husband worked as a security guard in a hospital. This is a job that city people don't want to do. City people have a golden body, and even if they have a monthly subsistence allowance of a few hundred yuan, they still have to idle at home keeping pets and playing mahjong.

Aunt Zhang deftly dumped the garbage from each bin into the car, and also packed the bottles and waste plastic from the bins into textile bags. When she arrived at the last trash can on the north side of the commercial street, a cardboard box caught her attention.

Aunt Zhang opened the cardboard box, which contained two fully filled black plastic bags. Aunt Zhang lifted it, feeling quite heavy. She untied the black plastic bag and, under the faint street lamp, found that it was a pack of meat. The meat was sticky and greasy, as if it had been poured with sauce. Aunt Zhang took out a piece and smelled it, but there was no foul smell.

"These city dwellers are so willing to throw away the good meat, it's like a waste!" Aunt Zhang muttered as she emptied the trash can, grabbed the cardboard box with both hands, and put it into the car.

At around 5 o'clock in the morning, the city became noisy. Aunt Zhang finished her morning work and returned home. She took out the cardboard box from the car and put it in the kitchen, then opened the plastic bag and carefully examined it.

Two plastic bags were filled with hundreds of minced meat pieces, which were filled with sweet noodle sauce. Aunt Zhang took out a few pieces and washed them in water. She found that these pieces of meat were already half cooked, and carefully examined them under the light. They were not as coarse as beef or had the smell of mutton, but seemed different from pork. Without much thought, Aunt Zhang put a few cleaned pieces of meat on the cutting board and quickly chopped them.

At half past seven, when Aunt Zhang's wife Lao Li got up, a bowl of steaming Wonton was already on the table.

Lao Li is a gourmet. Whether Wonton is delicious or not depends on the stuffing. The key is the soup. Aunt Zhang's soup is mixed with coriander, mashed garlic, soy sauce, vinegar, sesame oil, pepper, bean paste and hot oil, and a little shrimp skin and laver. Lao Li's opera is called "Ten Delicious Wonton".

Old Li was about to start eating when he suddenly remembered that his family hadn't bought any meat these past few days. He asked his wife, "What kind of meat is this filling made of?"

"What kind of meat can it be? Pork!" Aunt Zhang replied.

"I don't think so," Old Li asked after him, "Is it meat bought in the morning market?"

It was picked up, but not yet