Sister Song arrived at the butcher shop, and by now, it was almost evening. Only a little bony scrap meat was left in the shop, and Dai Sanlang was tidying up the cutting board, about to close up for the day.
Sister Song loved to buy meat at this time. The price right before closing was almost half what it would be in the morning.
"Sanlang," Sister Song said familiarly, "same as always."
Dai Sanlang grunted in acknowledgment, gathered the scrap meat from the wooden cutting board, and wrapped it in oiled cloth.
He furrowed his brow, his figure resembling a bloated little hill. Due to the summer heat, sweat rolled down his forehead, soaking through his thin shirt and making it visibly damp. At a glance, he looked like a huge, just-out-of-the-pot, soy-braised sweet dumpling.
"Sanlang," Sister Song could not help but say, "Have you put on more weight recently?"
Dai Sanlang didn't answer.