At ten that night, the people who had drawn the first dog-feeding shift knew they were doomed if they put it off any longer.
One of them scooped some of the contents of the vat into a small bowl and pinched his nose. "What the hell is this? It's disgusting. Wang Kangping, you hold it!"
Wang Kangping accepted it without protest. "How about this? I'll carry it to the Doghouse, and you stick it inside, Feiwen. Fair?"
"Fair, my ass!" Obviously, the second job was more dangerous. Du Feiwen bitterly regretted his choice.
The later it got, the colder it became. Pretty much everyone else had crawled into bed, leaving just the two of them stuck with this miserable chore.
The moment they opened the back door, cold wind swept in with a flurry of snow. Du Feiwen sneezed three times in a row and let loose five curses.
It was pitch-black outside. Wang Kangping switched on his flashlight. "Quit complaining. Let's feed it and get to bed."
Braving the bitter wind and the barely visible snowflakes, they trudged toward the low Doghouse, the snow creaking beneath their feet.
When they reached it, Wang Kangping opened the fence gate and held the bowl out to his side. "I'm closing my eyes. Don't forget to close yours, too."
Reluctant as he was, Du Feiwen had no choice but to take it.
The contents of the bowl were thick and sticky, and the wind carried their stench straight into his nostrils.
The little window was dark inside, and another foul smell wafted out of it.
Following Hu Pu's instructions, he balanced the bowl on one hand, bent down, and shakily reached toward the opening while closing his eyes.
In the darkness, he couldn't help wondering, *What exactly is locked up in the