Start of Winter.
For three consecutive days, the sky, obscured by gloom, had let down bits of frost and snow.
Snowflakes the size of rice grains fell onto the rooftops, clattering non-stop against the tiles, making one truly feel the arrival of the bitter winter.
By this time, the weather had become extremely cold, and the surface of the river at the east end of Datian Village was covered with a thin layer of ice.
The north wind howled across the desolate fields, and the distant mountaintops were already covered in white snow.
However, on these days when all was silent, the Empire Land Temple in Datian Village was exceptionally lively, bustling with noisy crowds.
Inside the temple the incense burned strongly, while outside, nine astonishingly large pots had been set up.
Fierce flames licked the black bottoms of the pots, and steaming hot, the diced pork meat boiled and tumbled in the water, mixing thoroughly with various seasonings.
