Today I will share two short stories about killing animals and reaping the consequences.
The first story is provided by an old friend in the building "Remembering the Banned Big Number" (looking at this ID, I don't know what kind of tragic love and hate this friend and Uncle Ya went through). The story is about a close old classmate of the father of "The Banned Big Number". In his early years, he took advantage of the spring breeze of reform and opening up, and after a lot of hard work, he dug out the first pot of gold in his life.
Now that life is better, this old friend is inevitably extravagant and degenerate. He gathers a group of business partners to have a small banquet every three days and a big banquet every five days. They drink and drink together and play songs every night. Ever since he tasted the richness of bear paws at the feast, this old friend couldn't stop eating them.
Anyway, he is not short of money. No matter whether there is a banquet or not, this old friend will eat bear paws every day. If he does not eat for a day, he will become greedy. His family had also advised him not to eat too much because he was too angry, but his old friend could not give up his quick talk and continued to eat as much as he wanted.
A few years later, this old friend's daughter-in-law became pregnant, and the long-awaited grandson was about to arrive. It goes without saying that the family was filled with joy and anticipation. Unexpectedly, misfortune would strike from the sky. When my daughter-in-law was more than five months pregnant, she went to the hospital for an abnormality screening. It was discovered that the fetus was born with crippled limbs and no hands. The two bare little arms in the B-ultrasound image looked particularly shocking.
The daughter-in-law finally went for an induced labor, and the family members speculated that this was the retribution of an old friend's gluttony for many years, which would affect their children and grandchildren.
Another similar story tells of a colleague from my dad’s previous workplace. The story told by netizens reminded me of this old incident.
Around 1995, my dad went on a business trip to Shenzhen with his company to discuss business. On the night of arrival, the other party's company held a banquet to express the friendship of the landlords. One of the hard dishes was the steamed monkey brains, which was once all the rage at that time.
To show the grandeur and sincerity of the hospitality, the Shenzhen company invited my dad and several others to personally select the monkeys to eat. The monkeys were all locked in a large iron cage. They were lying or lying down, staying alone in a very dejected manner. As soon as they saw the chef leading the guests close to the cage, the monkeys immediately exploded in their nests, screaming and working together to push a relatively weak monkey out of the cage.
The long experience of watching their own kind being slaughtered has allowed the monkeys to figure out such cruel methods of self-protection without any guidance. My dad and three other colleagues were all disgusted and suggested not to eat this dish. Only one colleague felt that a trip all the way to Guangdong was not worthwhile without eating something new, so he insisted on eating monkey brains.
The monkey that was pushed out of the iron cage completely gave up its resistance and struggle and allowed the chef to pull it into the private room and place it under a large round table with a hole in the middle. The little rabbit sat there and died. The monkey's body was still in the cage under the table. The top of the head can be exposed from the hole on the table top.
After the red oil boiled, the chef took advantage of the monkey's unpreparedness and suddenly hit the monkey's head with a small hammer, knocking a hole out of the monkey's skull, and then poured boiling hot oil into the monkey's head. The whole process was accompanied by the monkey's heart-rending screams as it struggled. My dad and the few other Yankees who had never seen the world were so frightened that they closed their eyes and held their breaths in fear.
The colleague who clamored to eat the monkey brain was very interested in watching it. In the end, he dug out most of the monkey brain with a small spoon. My dad said that he was the only one in the group who ate the monkey brain with gusto. .
A few years later, this colleague developed a malignant brain tumor. After several craniotomy operations, the rapidly growing tumor could not be stopped. Before he died, the tumor in his brain metastasized to his eyeball, pushing the right eyeball completely out of the socket. It festered and oozed pus, which was extremely horrific. The female colleague who went to the hospital to visit my father was frightened and cried on the spot.
When several people who traveled to Lingnan together saw the miserable state of that colleague, they all agreed that it was because he insisted on eating monkey brains back then, and was eventually counterattacked by the monkey's hatred and resentment. There was something wrong with his brain, and he was miserable.
Food and sex are also important, and the world is difficult, so there is nothing wrong with wanting to eat well. But if you torture and kill innocent animals in order to obtain twisted pleasure under the guise of satisfying your appetite, then all the pain you inflict on others will one day be repaid to you, and you will kill the little rabbit with all the benefits. More or less.