On the twenty-fifth of the twelfth lunar month, the Village Chief's family butchered a pig. Early in the morning, quite a few people had arrived, all waiting to buy some meat for the New Year's feast.
Xiaoxiao was no exception, "Auntie, I'll take the ribs and the big bones!"
"Yang Ming's wife, there's hardly any meat on those, why do you want those? Take some of this meat over here, it's so fatty it's dripping with oil!" The Village Chief's wife meant well, trying to persuade her to take some better cuts.
"Auntie, that's what I like. Please save them for me. Oh, and the pig's tongue, ears, and trotters. Right, give me about twenty pounds of the lean meat, and another twenty pounds of the belly pork, and twenty pounds of pure fat, then..."
Xiaoxiao pointed at the pork, begun to make one request after another, almost wanting to bring the whole pig home. Next year, she definitely needed to raise a couple of them herself.