Time moves in quiet rhythm, as all things settle into place.
And so, the festival preparations are also nearing their end.
Morning light streamed through the high windows,
casting a gentle glow across the dining hall wall,
gilding the entire row of wooden plaques.
Eleven large pigs stood in solemn formation, straight and still before the wall.
Ninety wooden tags hung on the wall,
each paired with a set of clay trays pressed with pig hoofprints——
silently telling the story of the past ninety days.
A pig bearing a seven-stick stone badge walked slowly into the center of the hall,
his hoofsteps ringing crisply against the stone floor.
"I know these ninety days haven’t been easy..."
He paused slightly, his gaze sweeping across the once-young faces, now tinged with quiet composure.
"But you made it through. I'm proud of you."
With that, he bowed deeply to the group.
Then he looked up, turned to the pig standing by, and raised his voice slightly:
"Present the plaques!"
The standby pig, upon hearing the order, stepped forward quickly with a wooden tray.
On it were eleven wooden plaques, each engraved with a single hoofprint.
The seven-stick pig walked up to the first pig in line and gently hung the tag around his neck.
Then, he reached out with his front hooves and pulled the pig into a tight embrace,
whispering close to his ear:
"You've worked hard."
What answered him was a sharp intake of breath, and a trembling nose trying to hold back.
The next pig already had reddened eyes.
The rest of the ceremony followed the same rhythm:
a wooden tag, an embrace, a word.
Emotions spread through the line——some tears had quietly begun to fall.
After finishing all of this, the seven-stick pig looked up, turned to the other side, and spoke again:
“Exchange the plaques!”
Four pigs stepped forward from the line.
Each of them wore two wooden plaques around their necks.
An older pig stepped forward, followed by another carrying a new tray.
A bone-carved necklace hung from the elder’s neck——eight sticks clearly visible.
"Nice to meet you all. I am the Deputy Hall Master of the Braised Hall."
His gaze fell upon the four pigs’ faces as he spoke slowly:
"On this path, every step is about letting go of who you used to be."
"And all your efforts——we’ve seen them every step of the way."
With that, he approached the first pig.
The pig bowed and carefully removed the two wooden plaques from his neck, respectfully offering them up.
The Deputy Hall Master accepted them, lowered his head to examine them, and smiled faintly.
"One double-hoof mark, one single-hoof mark… You’ve completed three rounds of training already."
As he spoke, he took a new wooden plaque from the tray——this one engraved with three hoofprints.
He hung the plaque around the pig’s neck, then drew him into an embrace, his voice gentle:
"From today onward, you carry a new identity."
The same ritual was repeated three more times.
The Deputy Hall Master reached the last pig.
He placed the new wooden plaque around his neck, and a glimmer of warmth appeared in his eyes.
"Alright, that’s it. The ceremony’s over."
He turned to the row of pigs and gave a gentle smile, tapping his hoof lightly.
"Okay then, let’s eat while we talk."
No sooner had he spoken than the sides of the dining hall burst into motion.
A dozen large pigs filed in, each carrying dishes and humming cheerfully.
Every one of them wore either a tile or terracotta badge, exuding confidence.
"Congratulations, new graduates!"
They shouted in unison, voices echoing through the entire hall, tails wagging wildly.
The shift in atmosphere was so sudden that some of the young pigs froze on the spot,
while others glanced down at the new wooden badges around their necks, snouts flushed pink.
Noticing this, the deputy head smiled and added:
“They’re the seniors who prepared your meals during the festival——no need to be shy!”
A mix of delicious aromas and laughter filled the hall, and in that moment,
they finally believed it——
they had truly graduated.
Meanwhile, in other corners of the Braised Hall, tasks were quietly in progress.
“Senior Sister! I brought the peg work for you!”
A cheerful voice rang out as a four-stick-badged pig strode into the room,
his terracotta tag swaying with each step.
He cradled a cloth bundle in his forelegs, faint tapping sounds coming from within.
Behind the table, the five-stick pig looked up and gave a brief, tight-lipped smile.
“You’re early.
The four-stick pig placed the cloth bundle carefully on the table, setting the documents beside it.
“As soon as I received the ceramic beads, I came straight here. Wanted to get it done early.”
Senior Sister took the documents and skimmed the top record.
“Two households, seven individuals...”
She nudged aside a corner of the cloth—
inside, the beads rested snugly together, their sizes slightly varied, each one giving off a faint, smooth sheen.
“Seven... mm... All intact...”
Murmuring softly to herself, she inspected the beads one by one,
verifying the patterns and the placement of each hole with practiced care.
With a slight nod, she brought her hoof tip down in a firm, precise motion,
leaving a clear, round red seal on the document.
"No problem. Just give me a moment."
As soon as she spoke, she swiftly pulled out a box of wooden pegs and a small mallet from the drawer,
then began inserting the pegs one by one into the holes of each ceramic bead.
Thud——thud——thud——
The room fell silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of wood against clay.
A few minutes later, she placed the now-assembled beads back into the cloth bundle,
and handed it over together with the documents.
"It’s ready. Have a look."
The four-stick pig nodded, carefully reviewing both the papers and the beads.
He gently brushed the back of his hoof across the surface of the beads.
Then, satisfied, he looked up with a grin.
"Looks good to me. I’ll get going, Senior Sister!"
He slung the bundle back over his shoulder in one smooth, practiced motion,
his movements brisk and confident.
The five-stick pig waved with a smile.
“Take care!”
The door opened again, and golden sunlight stretched across the floor,
illuminating the figure walking away.
"Gramps—it's me!"
The four-stick pig called out, knocking lightly on the courtyard gate, his voice brimming with warmth and familiarity.
Creeeeak——
Within seconds, the wooden door opened, and a round little pig poked her head out.
"Hey! You haven’t visited in forever!"
She ran up and hugged him tight, swaying back and forth with excitement.
Caught off guard by the force, the four-stick pig staggered a little.
He laughed, then crouched down to pat her head, his hoof brushing gently through her fur.
"Sorry I haven’t been around——things got super busy with the festival coming up!"
Just then, slow, heavy steps sounded from within the house.
"An elderly pig, fur graying and gait steady, walked out, his eyes crinkling with a smile."
"Ah, long time no see!"
The four-stick pig quickly stood up, drew a folded cloth from the bundle slung over his shoulder, and spread it open to reveal four ceramic beads——
each already fitted with a wooden peg.
“I’ve been tied up with festival prep these days,” he said with a sheepish smile, offering the ceramic beads.
“Sorry it’s taken me so long to come by —— these are the four pegged beads for your household.
Would you mind signing here?”
The old pig took the beads, gave them a look, and pressed his hoofprint onto the document.
"Why don’t you come in and rest for a bit? Have something to eat before you go."
The four-stick pig had already begun folding the cloth back into his bag. He smiled and waved a hoof.
"I’d love to, but I’ve got another delivery to make. Once the festival’s over, I’ll come back for a proper meal!"
The old pig chuckled and nodded, not insisting further.
"Alright, take care out there, and don’t push yourself too hard."
"Got it!"
With a quick wave, the four-stick pig turned and headed off down the path.
“Bye-bye, big bro!”
The little pig stood at the doorway, waving her forehoof——
her voice lingered in the alley long after he had gone.
The sun was slowly setting, staining the sky in hues of orange and red.
Some pigs were hauling wood, others were packing down the mud.
Dust streaks and sunset glow mingled across their backs.
In the middle of the grounds,
a large pig wearing a porcelain badge marked with six sticks was inspecting the tents and wooden frames one by one.
He walked while murmuring softly to himself,
a wooden board held between his hooves swaying with every step, occasionally marking down a note.
"Hmm… the back kitchen was sorted out yesterday, and the spot for lighting the fire is good to go."
Just as he turned toward the storage shed, a voice called out urgently behind him.
“Senior Brother!”
He stopped in his tracks, raised a hoof to block the glare, and looked toward the voice.
A four-stick pig was running toward him, slightly out of breath.
“Hey, what brings you over? Done for the day?”
"Huff… just came to see if you could use a hand!"
The six-stick pig grinned and unhooked a waterskin from his belt, handing it over.
“Thanks. But we’re about wrapped up for today. Let’s head back together in a bit.”
The four-stick pig took the waterskin and drank with audible gulps,
then let out a long breath.
"Sure thing."
He wiped his mouth, smile widening just a little.
“I heard tonight’s dinner is stewed cabbage!
The kiln seniors whispered it to me.”
Hearing that, the six-stick pig’s eyes lit up.
He snapped the board shut with a crisp snap.
“Really? Then I’d better hurry and finish up!”
The sky darkened little by little,
and the light stretched their shadows long across the ground.
A soft breeze drifted in from afar,
ruffling the corners of scattered pages and stirring up grains of sand,
before gliding gently past their hooves.
Late at night, all was silent.
The scent of grass and the chirping of insects drifted gently through the forest.
Beneath an old tree, two large pigs sat side by side, their backs resting against the sturdy trunk.
The pig wearing a bone necklace carved with ten sticks reached into his shoulder bag and took out a ceramic bead, already pegged with a wooden pin. His voice carried a trace of apology:
“I was supposed to bring this to you myself.”
The other pig took the bead like it was nothing, sliding it into the cloth pouch at his side.
“Please—you’re seriously being polite now?”
The Hall Master chuckled, then lowered his head, absentmindedly drawing lines in the dirt with a hoof.
“Ever since you became the lord, the only time I get to sit and talk with you is right before the festival each year.”
The other pig rolled his eyes and shot back without hesitation:
"Please. You’re the one who’s always too busy—don’t go pinning it on me."
"Haha, still the same old sharp tongue."
He paused, a faint smile softening his brow.
“Do you still remember our very first festival?”
“...There’s no way I could forget.”
That was long ago——before either of them bore a bone necklace or stone ring.
“Time really does fly… the festival’s coming up next week.”
The lord touched the stone ring by his ear——a symbol of his role——and gazed into the distance.
Tree shadows drifted with the breeze, like the traces of a journey once shared,
slowly settling upon their backs.
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