Tang Miao had no idea she’d become famous.
She was crouched in front of Old Liu’s meat stall.
Her two front paws neatly together, tail wrapped primly around to the front, head tilted up, staring unblinkingly at the slab of freshly braised pork head on the cutting board.
Old Liu’s braised pork head was legendary.
He’d been selling it on this street for twenty years, and his master broth had been simmering for twenty years without ever being replaced.
A whole pork head stewed in the brine for four hours, pulled out still quivering with elasticity.
Sliced open, the skin was ruddy, the lean meat firm, the fat translucent.
The aroma of star anise and cinnamon had seeped into every single fiber.
No dipping sauce needed—pop it in your mouth, and first comes the savory saltiness of the brine, then the gelatinous texture of the skin, and finally the tight chew of the lean meat.
Tang Miao could smell that scent in her dreams.
In her first few days here, she hadn’t dared eat just anything.
After all, she was a tiny kitten—if she ate something she shouldn’t, with her little body, one bout of diarrhea and dehydration would be the end of her.
She’d first gone to Grandma Liu at the entrance and tested a few different fruits. No problem.
Then she tried the pastries Grandpa Zhang gave her. Also fine.
Then came plain boiled minced meat, cooked chicken liver, braised meat trimmings…
She could eat all of it.
Her stomach had no taboos whatsoever.
Ever since discovering this, Tang Miao had completely let loose when it came to food.
Buns that weren’t fragrant enough—she turned her nose up. Fish heads without meat—she wouldn’t touch them. Braised goods that hadn’t absorbed enough flavor… she’d just walk away.
The fish stall lady’s verdict: “This cat is getting pickier and pickier.”
But Old Liu ate it up.
“Alright, alright, I know you’re waiting.”
Old Liu picked up his cleaver and sliced a thin piece of walnut meat from the tenderest part of the pork head.
The slice trembled twice on the blade, glistening with a layer of clear brine, before landing in a small iron dish at the edge of the cutting board.
He bent down and placed the dish in front of Tang Miao.
Tang Miao lowered her head and bit in.
A cat’s tongue has barbs—perfect for scraping meat.
She pulled apart the fibers of the walnut meat bit by bit, the flavor of the brine melting across her tongue.
The sweet aftertaste of star anise, the warm spice of cinnamon, the deep richness of the aged broth—layer upon layer.
She ate with her cheeks puffed out, a tiny piece of crackling clinging to the corner of her mouth.
Her eyes narrowed, even the tip of her tail twitching gently.
In her past life, she’d wanted to try Old Liu’s braised pork head too, but at thirty-eight yuan a jin, she’d never been willing to splurge.
At most, she’d catch a whiff as she passed by.
Now it was free.
In this life, she could get unlimited refills just by showing her face.
Old Liu watched her eat with delight and added another piece.
Tang Miao didn’t stand on ceremony—she lowered her head and kept going.
The thick skin she’d developed delivering food in her past life had all been poured into her cat-begging talents in this one—not only doubled in thickness, but backed with total shamelessness.
During the two days she’d been buried in her food, Old Liu’s casual Moments post had blown up in the local scene.
Someone had cut a fifteen-second short video and posted it to the local city account.
In the video, Tang Miao emerged from under the cutting board with a massive gray rat in her mouth, lips pursed, face written with “This cat is NOT happy about this.”
Within days, the likes had passed twelve thousand.
The comments section exploded.
[Has this cat’s social insurance been paid yet?]
[This little cat has contributed greatly to the harmony and stability of the market.]
[Drop the address, drop the location—I’m coming to pay my respects!!]
…
Tang Miao knew nothing about any of this.
She was in her usual spot under the cutting board, licking her paws, cleaning off the last traces of oil from the walnut meat.
The silence was broken.
“Move aside! Coming through! Where’s the internet-famous cat?”
The voice carried an excited, scheming energy.
Tang Miao’s ears shot up.
A young man with bleached yellow hair burst into the market, holding up a selfie stick.
His phone was mounted on the stick for livestreaming, the front camera glowing, comments scrolling by.
He wore a flashy streetwear hoodie, and his white sneakers stood out starkly against the wet, grimy market floor.
“Family! I’m at Xinmin Market right now! This is the market with the viral working cat!”
“I’m going to find it today, no matter what!”
He shouted as he shoved the selfie stick into every stall’s face.
Auntie Wang at the vegetable stall was stacking cabbages when the camera swept over. She instinctively raised her hand to block it:
“What are you filming? Who said you could film?”
The yellow-haired guy rolled his eyes and ignored her, continuing to shout into his livestream.
The old man at the dried goods stall frowned and called out, “Young man, don’t point that camera around randomly.”
The yellow-haired guy paid him no mind, kicking aside an empty cardboard box in his way.
The stall owners were fuming inside, but seeing the glowing camera and hearing the guy’s rapid-fire livestream chatter, they feared getting tangled up in online trouble they couldn’t explain. They could only hold their breath and look away.
“Boss, you’ve got that internet-famous cat here, right? The orange one, the rat catcher!” The yellow-haired guy made his way to Old Liu.
Old Liu was sharpening his knife and didn’t even look up. “What internet-famous? No such thing!”
“Go on, go on! Don’t interfere with my business!”
“Don’t be modest, boss! It’s all over the internet!”
The yellow-haired guy circled around the meat stall, ignoring Old Liu’s objections, sweeping his camera everywhere.
“Where is it? Where’s it hiding?”
Tang Miao crouched in the shadows at the bottom shelf of the cutting table, motionless, trying her best to stay hidden.
A cat’s instincts are far sharper than a human’s.
This person gave off an aura she absolutely detested.
In her past life delivering food, she’d seen plenty of his kind.
Greedy. Restless. Desperate for quick gains.
Their eyes were always scanning for “something to exploit.”
The yellow-haired man crouched down, tilting his head to peer beneath the cutting board.
He locked eyes with Tang Miao.
His eyes lit up.
“Found it! Guys, look! It’s this one!” He shoved his phone right up to the gap.
A massive shadow sealed off Tang Miao’s only escape route.
The next second, the yellow-haired man’s hand, reeking of cheap cigarettes, reached straight into the gap.
Just as Tang Miao’s hind legs tensed to bolt, that hand brutally seized the scruff of her neck.
The force was immense, with no regard for the fact that she was just a kitten—his nails dug straight into her fur.
It hurt!
Tang Miao’s pupils contracted sharply.
She was yanked out of the gap by sheer force.
The yellow-haired man gripped her scruff with one hand, hoisting her up in front of the camera.
Tang Miao’s four legs dangled in the air, her neck burning with pain, her whole body arching up from agony and fear.
“See! It’s her! Isn’t she just adorable?”
Tang Miao didn’t let him finish.
Her body twisted violently mid-air, hind legs kicking out with force.
Her left front paw slashed across, right front paw following in quick succession—two strikes landing on the back of the yellow-haired man’s hand.
Four bloody scratches, perfectly aligned.
“Ow!”
The yellow-haired man yelped in pain, releasing his grip and flinging Tang Miao away.
The instant she hit the ground, her legs sprang into action, and she shot up onto the top of a nearby shelf.
Safe at last,
she arched her back, fur bristling, a sharp “Hiss—” tearing from her throat.
The yellow-haired man stared at the beads of blood seeping from the back of his hand, wincing at the sting.
Then, his eyes darted around, and in a spot hidden from the camera, he smiled.
He thrust his bleeding hand in front of the lens, twisted his face into an exaggerated grimace, and wailed:
“Guys, you all saw that, right! A feral cat went crazy and attacked someone!”
“A vicious stray like this has no business being in a market! Think of the danger!”
He waved his bleeding hand before the camera. “I’m calling to report this! A cat like this needs to be dealt with!”