To test her theory, Mai Mingle glanced at the clock and called out softly, "Xiaowei?"
Xiaowei turned its head. Its face was expressionless, but its cheeks bulged and pulsed, as if the piece of broccoli was still struggling and resisting inside its mouth.
"What is it?" It didn't look very happy.
"You... you don't like pain-meat?"
"No, pain-meat is fine."
"Then you must really like broccoli?"
"Broccoli?" Xiaowei said. "Oh, you mean that green thing I was just eating? It's not broccoli. It's a steamed, porous, poly-nodular human face tumor, dyed with edible coloring."
Mai Mingle desperately wanted to scrub her ears—they felt unbearably tainted just from having been touched by those words.
"...So you really like that steamed... steamed whatever-it-is?"
"Nope." Xiaowei pointed to its face and said, "It's tough to chew. The sinews are too thick. See? It's still thrashing around in my mouth."
