Good and Evil Chapter Two The Head in the Kitchen

Human beings are always evolving and growing through constant learning. Once they've experienced something for the first time, they often feel an irresistible urge to do it again—this is true of making friends, of chatting, and even of killing.

While they were waiting for the police to arrive, none of the previous customers in the char siu restaurant had left. Though they had already finished their meals, their curiosity kept them rooted to the spot, all eager to find out whether the object in question was indeed a pig's trotter—after all, the love of spectacle is ingrained in the people of this land.

When Ning Yanran arrived at the scene with her team, a full twenty minutes had passed. She hadn’t brought many with her, just two detectives. As she walked in and saw Xu Lang sitting at the table, a plate of char siu rice still in front of him, his disheveled appearance made her lovely brows furrow instinctively.

With little ceremony, Ning Yanran plopped herself down opposite me and asked bluntly, “Why did you call me here? If this is just an excuse to treat me to a meal, I won’t mind taking you to the station for a cup of afternoon tea.”

Xu Lang wasn’t bothered by Ning Yanran’s bluntness—after all, their first meeting had been far from pleasant, and they hadn’t known each other long. She had started at the precinct just as Xu Lang was leaving.

He knew both detectives who had come along with Ning Yanran—one was Zhang Lei, the other Li Lei. Their names were similar, and both were members of the second team in the criminal investigation unit. Upon spotting the char siu rice, Zhang Lei immediately sat down beside Xu Lang, fished a pair of chopsticks from the plastic holder, and began eating with gusto. “Lang, how did you know we hadn’t eaten yet? You’re too thoughtful,” he said as he ate, though his actions showed no restraint at all. His speed was astonishing; Xu Lang only had time to pray inwardly that Zhang Lei wouldn’t end up vomiting later.

Instead of bickering with Ning Yanran, Xu Lang pushed the napkin-wrapped item toward her and said, “Take a look at this.”

At first, Ning Yanran thought the object was Xu Lang’s leftover trash. Her delicate brows creased even more as she picked up Xu Lang’s chopsticks and gently pushed aside the napkin. The moment she saw the "pig’s trotter" with painted nails, her reaction was almost identical to Xu Lang’s—she suspected it wasn’t a pig’s trotter at all, but rather looked like a human finger.

“Is this a pig’s trotter?” she asked uncertainly.

Xu Lang gave no reply. At that moment, Li Lei took the item, examined it, and declared with certainty, “This isn’t a pig’s trotter; it’s a human finger.”

Ning Yanran didn’t doubt him for a second—Li Lei was the best trace evidence analyst in their unit, and nothing he identified had ever been wrong.

All eyes then turned to Zhang Lei, who was still devouring his food, their gazes mixed with strangeness and complexity, unsure whether to warn him to stop. But soon, there was no need; Zhang Lei had already finished eating. He put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth with a napkin, burped, and said, “This char siu rice is really something.”

Only then did he notice the odd, hesitant, even sympathetic looks everyone was giving him. Puzzled, he asked, “What? What’s wrong?”

We still didn’t speak, just kept staring at him. He scratched his head, as if a thought struck him, and said, “Alright, I’ll order a few more plates—my treat, okay?”

He turned to call the proprietress, only to find her watching Xu Lang and the others intently. Before Zhang Lei could voice his confusion, Xu Lang, Ning Yanran, and Li Lei had already stood up and were heading toward her.

Xu Lang was no longer a police officer, so it was Ning Yanran who did the questioning. “Madam, could you tell me what this is?” she asked.

The proprietress glanced at Xu Lang, then at Ning Yanran, and finally fixed her eyes on the object in Li Lei’s hand. “It’s a pig’s trotter, of course. What else could it be?”

Ning Yanran’s expression turned cold and stern. “This is clearly a human finger, not a pig’s trotter. Have you ever seen a pig’s trotter with painted nails?”

The proprietress was struck speechless, lowering her head and saying nothing more.

Ning Yanran didn’t waste any more words. “Call the station for backup,” she instructed Zhang Lei, “and make sure to ask for a medical examiner.”

She turned back to the proprietress. “We need to check your kitchen.”

Zhang Lei, still unclear about what was happening, followed orders nonetheless. But as he recalled the strange looks from a moment ago, a chill crept over him—something was definitely wrong.

Knowing she couldn’t stop us, the proprietress made no attempt to intervene. As Ning Yanran moved to enter, Xu Lang grabbed her by the arm, nearly causing her to stumble. She spun around, suppressing her irritation, and demanded, “What now?”

Without a word, Xu Lang handed her two plastic bags and slipped two over his own shoes before tying them securely. Only then did he enter the kitchen, smiling as he passed Ning Yanran. “Preserving the scene—haven’t you heard of it?”

Ning Yanran was momentarily speechless, then gave a cold snort and began to don the plastic bags. Li Lei was already prepared and shook his head at the sight.

The kitchen was small—three people filled it uncomfortably. Inside, they found trays of golden braised meat, the air thick with an irresistible aroma that should have roused the appetite, but for Xu Lang and the others it only brought nausea and dread.

Li Lei, the trace analyst, began his inspection at once. He examined the braised meats in the basins, but as they were all cooked, it was impossible to tell if they were pork or human flesh. He picked up a piece, sniffed it, but detected only the characteristic savory scent—nothing out of the ordinary—so he set it down.

Ning Yanran was also rummaging about, searching the area.

Xu Lang ignored the meat and knives, heading straight for a large barrel. Lifting the lid, a cloud of steam billowed out, forcing him to step back—so far, in fact, that he accidentally trod on Ning Yanran’s foot.

“Ow, you stepped on my foot!” she exclaimed, clearly in pain.

Xu Lang paid her no mind. When the steam cleared, the kitchen was filled with a rich, five-spice fragrance. Xu Lang approached the barrel, took a ladle, and began stirring.

Since it was a braising barrel, there was plenty of meat simmering inside. At first, only half-cooked lumps floated to the surface. Ning Yanran came over and asked, “What are you looking for?”

“Human remains,” Xu Lang replied expressionlessly.

“You suspect it’s in here?” Ning Yanran asked.

Xu Lang nodded and kept stirring. By now, Li Lei had finished his check and joined them. The three of them crowded around the barrel.

“Officers, that’s all meat in there! If you keep stirring like that, you’ll ruin it—how am I supposed to sell it?” the proprietress protested from the doorway, her face full of displeasure.

The three merely glanced at her before turning back to the barrel. As Xu Lang stirred, more and more objects that had settled at the bottom began to surface—until, finally, all three saw it: a human skull rising from the depths, its flesh long since melted away, leaving only two shriveled eyeballs staring from the sockets.

As the head emerged, clumps of hair followed, long and plentiful—clearly a woman’s.

Xu Lang stopped stirring and, using some tools, lifted the skull from the barrel and placed it on a large empty platter. He turned to the proprietress. “Madam, what’s this? Don’t tell me it’s a pig’s head.”

At the sight of the skull, Xu Lang clearly saw a flash of resentment and terror in the proprietress’s eyes, though she quickly repressed these emotions. Her face turned ghostly pale, her pupils dilated, and she suddenly shrieked, “A ghost! A ghost!”

The three of us were taken aback by her reaction, glancing at each other in confusion.

The proprietress backed out of the kitchen, stumbling over something and landing on the floor. She hugged her knees, staring in terror at the kitchen door, and kept wailing about ghosts.

Zhang Lei, who was just about to enter, was startled. He glanced at the proprietress, tiptoed around her, and walked to the kitchen doorway. The skull was hidden from view by our bodies, so Zhang Lei first noticed the fragrant, glistening meat and inhaled deeply. “Smells amazing! I’ll have to come back here whenever I can,” he declared.

Xu Lang and the others exchanged glances, then all took a step to the side, revealing the skull with its shriveled eyes.

Zhang Lei’s expression went from puzzled to shocked, then to ashen. Without a word, he clamped a hand over his mouth and bolted out, vomiting the moment he cleared the door.

The three of us looked at each other, a shared helplessness in our eyes. Chances were, Zhang Lei would never eat char siu rice again—and it was uncertain whether he’d even be able to get over this incident at all.