Chapter Eight: Possessed by Evil

At that moment, Wang Hou lifted his head and stared blankly at the plate of emerald-green bok choy on the table, shaking his head with lingering fear. “I can’t eat it! In your dream, you said bok choy is death banquet food, only for the dead!”

Wang Hou’s words nearly made me choke on the mouthful of rice I’d just taken. I put down my chopsticks abruptly and scolded him, “I said ‘washing machine’! Are you not a true soldier of the people? Aren’t you a materialist? Can you really believe things from dreams? Back in the day, during the army’s all-forces competition, you weren’t even afraid of attack helicopters and shot one down with a rocket launcher. And now you’re scared of a plate of vegetables?”

“I’m not afraid, but...” Wang Hou’s demeanor was so deflated that I suspected he’d been scared witless.

So, I turned to comfort him. “Just eat! There’s nothing to worry about. These two bowls of white rice with a plate of greens are called ‘Peaceful Meal of Purity and Clarity.’ Eat it, and neither gods nor ghosts will bother you—you’ll be safe and sound.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I was the army’s head chef. Would I lie to you?”

Only then, with my urging, did Wang Hou finally start eating.

In truth, I had lied to him.

There’s no such thing as a ‘Peaceful Meal of Purity and Clarity’ in this world; I’d made it up on the spot. But my old squad leader had taught me: when eating outside, what matters is a clear conscience. That’s why dishes have such pleasant names—it’s all to put people in a good mood. When your mood is good, everything seems better. Ultimately, life itself is all about mindset. Sometimes, I even think that so-called ghosts and spirits are much like cooking. When your mood is foul, you feel haunted by grievances and nothing goes right—just like when you’re in a bad mood, nothing tastes good. The opposite is also true. It’s the same principle.

And what Wang Hou needed most right now was a good mood.

After a hearty meal, Wang Hou was back to his energetic self. He slapped me on the shoulder and said, fate must have brought us together, since we even met in a dream. After this ordeal, he felt people in society were just too restless, blinded by greed for money. It was nothing like our days in the army, where we’d risked our lives together—back then, it was truly “All for one, and one for all!”

His words resonated with me deeply.

On a sudden impulse, I asked if he’d like to go into the restaurant business with me as partners.

I thought, the two of us, both former soldiers, doing business with a clear conscience—there’s no way we couldn’t make money. Besides, we were still young; wherever we fell, we’d just get back up and show everyone that us veterans weren’t relics of the past.

Wang Hou agreed wholeheartedly. He said that although he didn’t have much capital left, the connections he’d made transporting vegetables would let us buy quality ingredients at low prices, and find a good shopfront to rent.

So I gave up my plan to return home. Together, we scraped together fifty thousand yuan, rented a small storefront in our county for a year, and opened a modest restaurant.

To honor our days in the military, Wang Hou and I decided to name the place “August First Restaurant.”

And so, I finally had my own shop. We divided the work clearly—he handled the sourcing and deliveries, while I cooked and managed the restaurant. Though we didn’t make much at first, our honest selection of ingredients gradually earned us a reputation in the county. Three years later, we expanded the restaurant and business steadily improved.

But as the saying goes, “He who fails to plan for the future will soon worry about the present.” Even as our business flourished, another problem soon followed, unsettling me greatly.

At its core, the problem could be summed up in two words—women.

There’s an old local saying in our village: “Drivers, sailors, cooks, and performers—these trades are always looked down upon, considered sly and untrustworthy.” Unfortunately, both Wang Hou, a food delivery man, and I, a cook, fell under that curse.

Not to mention, every time I went on a blind date, that lingering scent of scallion oil clinging to me was enough to scare off any would-be sweetheart.

And so, I spent three years as a bachelor. But I never felt lonely, as I had Wang Hou—a man far worse off than myself—for company, which gave me some comfort.

As for Wang Hou, his romantic troubles went beyond mere misfortune. If I had to describe it, I’d say he was “possessed by ghosts.” Every girlfriend he’d found in those years had been a gold-digger, each more demanding than the last. Yet Wang Hou was a sucker for women. No matter how much I warned him, he'd throw himself into the fire without hesitation, tossing wads of cash into the flames. He’d only stop once every last penny had been wrung from him.

The worst part was, he never learned. Each time he was duped, he’d start saving money, just to be tricked again by the next woman.

I could only explain his behavior as being “possessed.”

And so, as we ran the restaurant for three years, he was cheated by heartless women for three years. Recently, he found a new opportunity to be deceived—this time, by a girl in red.

On the third day after we’d expanded the restaurant, a pretty girl in a red dress walked in.

It was the afternoon, just after the lunch rush. The summer heat left me too lazy to move, so I lounged on a table in the dining hall to cool off. Wang Hou, meanwhile, was hunched over behind the counter, playing his video game.

Half-awake, I was suddenly roused by a woman’s clear, melodious voice.

“Boss, I’d like to eat! Can you cook something for me?” Her voice was pleasant.

I opened one eye, owl-like, and saw only her back. She wore a red dress, with a shapely figure; her long, black hair cascaded from shoulder to waist, exuding an intense presence.

At that moment, Wang Hou shot upright behind the counter as if at a military inspection, standing ramrod straight.

I couldn’t see her face, but judging by Wang Hou’s expression, she was undoubtedly a beauty.

I silently cursed Wang Hou for his foolishness—he’d forgotten his wounds as soon as they’d healed, “possessed” all over again.

Wang Hou quickly lost his composure before the beautiful girl. It took him a moment to react, after which he pointed her to a table. “Yes! Yes! Please, have a seat! I’ll take your order right away.”

Then he switched into “possessed” mode—offering tissues, bringing tea, trying to strike up a conversation, but stammering so badly he couldn’t get a word out.

I couldn’t stand to watch his awkwardness, so I quietly slipped into the kitchen to start preparing her order.

A while later, Wang Hou came in with the order pad, looking as foolish as ever.

“Trying to win her over?” I teased him. “Is it because she’s pretty and you want to take advantage?”

“How did you know?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Oh, please! Anyone could tell. You're hopeless!” I shot back, grabbing the menu and heading to the stove.

But Wang Hou was still excited, asking, “Old Tian, can you add another dish for her? Just say it’s on me!”

I glanced at the menu and, in exasperation, held it up to his face. “Add another? You’ve already got six dishes here—three whole pounds of lamb spine alone! Any more and you’ll kill her with food! Wait...”

Halfway through my sentence, I suddenly felt something was off.

I looked over the menu more carefully, then asked, “Washing machine, are you sure you wrote this down right? Six big dishes—can she possibly eat all that? Maybe she’s ordering takeout?”

“No mistake! The girl said she’ll eat here,” Wang Hou replied, surprising me.

With that, I fell completely silent, menu in hand.

Wang Hou, seeing my strange expression, anxiously asked, “Is there something wrong with her order? Don’t tell me... she’s another ghost?”

Ever since the “death banquet” incident, Wang Hou had taken a new view of menus, knowing I often saw things others didn’t.

This time, he was right.

There was indeed something odd about her order—not the dishes themselves, but something else...

Still, a menu alone didn’t tell me everything.

So I looked at Wang Hou and said, “Wang Hou, your chance has come! This time, I’ll help you win this girl’s heart!”

He grabbed my shoulder like a drowning man clutching a lifeline, nodding furiously. “Please, teach me your ways!”

“No problem! But... first, get your hand off my shoulder!” I cried out in pain.

His grip was so strong I thought my arm would pop out of its socket.

Once he let go, I waved the red-dressed girl’s menu in front of him.

“From this menu, I can tell the girl is sick. And I’m the only one who knows how to cure her! Once she’s well, won’t you have everything you want?”

“You can tell someone is sick by their order?” Wang Hou asked, incredulous.

I nodded, told him to leave, and warned him not to say anything. I’d bring the dishes out myself and meet this unlucky girl in red.

After sending him out, I cooked while pondering the strange menu.

I couldn’t help but mutter to myself, could it really be such a coincidence? Was what happened five years ago about to repeat itself...