Set in the twilight of the Ming Dynasty, The Hungry Lamb: Traveling in the Late Ming Dynasty (The Hungry Lamb) promises a story full of mystery and interesting choices. Told through the eyes of Liang, a bandit commissioned to traffic four girls through a country ravaged by famine and disease, the story doesn’t shy away from the dire reality that many of the common folk faced during this time. Even so, it cannot quite realize all of its narrative ambitions.
Hard times have fallen on the land, with years-long droughts and a cruel indifference from the upper/ruling class causing devastation to the countryside. Many families have resorted to selling or abandoning their children to survive another day, leading to an unfortunate boom in the human trafficking business, which is where our story begins. Although Liang is hesitant about the gig, a generous payday and reassurances of a better life for these children as adoptive daughters to a noble in the city of Luoyang assuage his conscience. Things (of course) aren’t as they seem, as Liang has to confront not only the sinister nature of the job but also grapple with the reality of a people forsaken by their government in such desperate times. Cannibalism runs rampant among starving villagers, bandits roam the roads for unfortunate passersby, and high food prices turn once bustling cities into shells of their former selves.
While an undeniably fascinating backdrop for a choice-based storyline with multiple endings, in reality, The Hungry Lamb plays itself out too straight and narrow. Many of the “choices” here are one-stop bad endings, with choices to that point having no bearing whatsoever. It’s understandable to avoid sending players down a path for several hours only to be met with a game over screen, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit misled given the emphasis placed on these endings on the store page itself.
More annoyingly, the game has several dialogue choices that are little more than cosmetic detours to the same conclusion. This kind of “gameplay” design was annoying enough in games like Genshin Impact where it served as a speed bump for people trying to skim the dialogue, but it feels particularly egregious in a visual novel where the dialogue and narrative choices ARE the main gameplay.
Additionally, the clear favoritism among the cast members does not impact the story positively. Despite the game presenting six main cast members to focus on with Liang, his bandit partner Tongue, and the four girls, Hong’er, Cui’er, QiongHua, and Sui, Liang and Sui are given by far the most screentime with Tongue as a distant second. The other girls, for all their tragedies and woes, are little more than plot devices used to explain certain actions characters should have logically taken otherwise, which felt in poor taste.
Liang and Sui thankfully make the most of their screen time, offering a host of quality CGs and wonderfully voiced dialogue the whole way through. Sui’s backstory chapters detailing her harrowing journey leading to Liang’s group were particularly compelling and the highlight of the entire campaign.
Unfortunately, these moments also become a bit of a double-edged sword because all the promises of fantastic character development during these tender moments rarely become fulfilled. Sui and Liang will have a beautifully vulnerable moment with each other about their pasts, but all the conversations that should flesh out these moments in the following days are given an unceremonious black screen and some flavor of “and we did the same thing the next few days.” Perhaps this was a conscious writing decision on the developer’s part to maintain the brisk pace of the plot, but it felt like a sorely missed opportunity to show Liang and Sui’s growth instead of simply saying it happened off-screen.
This stings especially hard for Liang whose inner monologue is dull to read otherwise. Seeing himself and other bandits as “wolves” and victims of the times as “lambs,” this is an initially interesting metaphor that Liang hides behind to try and justify his heinous deeds to survive. However, the extent to which he repeats these two words anytime he feels even the smallest pang of sympathy towards the girls significantly watered down his character into a caricature of what it was trying to represent.
Despite all this, I found the overarching story itself to be well-structured, hallmarked by several brilliantly foreshadowed twists near the end of the game. Gorgeous and haunting CGs highlight dramatic moments, with a host of soundtracks authentic to the period to complement the artwork. If you ever want to appreciate these separately from the story, a handy extras menu is available for both the OST and artwork. Wanting to relive these scenes is equally as easy, with a flow chart taking you to the start of every chapter in the game. This, combined with multiple save files and the ability to skip already read text, made save-scumming for the various endings a fairly smooth experience.
The Hungry Lamb: Traveling in the Late Ming Dynasty is a VN with great potential. It has all the foundations of an engaging story about the darker side of the human condition during times of pure and utter desperation. But it struggles to deliver on the promise of its characters, leading to a relatively flat reading experience overall. For its price point, I think it’s worth a shot if the aesthetic or setting piques your interest, but those seeking a deeper, more fleshed-out roster of characters might find themselves disappointed.