The next day was Sunday.
Today was the parent-teacher meeting, as well as Beginning of Winter, one of the twenty-four solar terms.
As the first solar term of winter, it marked the official arrival of winter from this day onward.
Even on a Sunday when the weather had turned cold and most people liked to stay tucked in bed, Chen Shi'an still got up at five in the morning.
But he did not go cycling or do parkour that morning. Instead, he headed to the vegetable market early and bought dozens of pounds of prime pork belly that had just been put out on the stalls, planning to make some cured meat himself.
Although this winter specialty was available year-round in today's commercialized world, homemade cured meat had more of a homey feel than the packaged products in supermarkets.
Especially when Chen Shi'an made it himself: the meat was firm without being tough, its savory saltiness carrying the mellow sweetness of the fat. Whether stir-fried, steamed with rice, or simmered in soup, it left a lingering taste that kept people coming back for more.
He was not boasting. Even his master, who had the pickiest palate of all, craved his cured meat more than anything else.
The fat cat craved it too. Seeing Chen Shi'an bring so much meat home from the market today, Fat Ink was as excited as if it were New Year's, winding around his legs and meowing nonstop.
"Hey, hey, what are you doing? I'll hang you up to dry too!"
"Meow?"
With the weather turning cold, the black cat had grown a dense, warm undercoat, making it look even fatter than before.
Fat Ink used to head out for a stroll early in the morning, but now it stayed obediently at home and hardly went