In a bowl of vegetable soup, they felt the weight of legacy for the first time.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHPoAMalJqy
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In the blink of centuries, the pigfolk journeyed from the wild into an ordered world.
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"I'm going to live at the Braised Hall starting today!"
A young pig stood atop the hill, the tile badge on his chest gleaming faintly in the sunlight, clearly etched with three interlocked sticks.
Below the slope, his mother looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, fine lines forming at the corners of her eyes.
"I know," she said softly, yet her voice carried steadily upward.
"I'm proud of you."
The young pig grinned wide, humming an off-key tune as he dashed toward the courtyard gate, his tail wagging wildly.
His mother didn't turn away right away. She simply watched his figure grow smaller and smaller.
In a low murmur, she whispered, "Good luck, my son."
A breeze rustled through the treetops, lifting a few fallen leaves into a slow, spiraling dance.
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Morning light streamed through the cracks in the high walls, casting dappled patterns across the grass.
In the courtyard, five pigs stood in a row, each wearing a tile badge marked with three interlocked wooden sticks.
Not far away, a large pig with a ceramic badge bearing four interlocked sticks slowly approached.
He stopped, his gaze sweeping across the young faces before him——10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsdK4YdzH14
Each pair of eyes held respect and anticipation, yet couldn’t fully hide a trace of nervousness.
“First, congratulations——10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrFexzR3Q4n
You’ve officially stepped into this sacred hall.”
“The three sticks are not just proof of your three-time championship,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqlt8I58EUh
They’re a promise.”
“From this day on, you are no longer merely wielders of knives——10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI5C3Sch8ul
You are keepers of memory.”
The five pigs bowed almost in unison, their right hooves tapping the ground with a crisp, unified sound.
The lead pig nodded and turned, walking toward the inner courtyard.
“Before you begin in earnest,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwZgPAzLHJY
You must first understand the foundation of this place.”
“I hope you will come to truly grasp the spirit of the Braised Hall.”
The pigs followed in silence, their tile badges swaying with each step, producing a faint, rhythmic rustle.
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They arrived at a wooden door, its surface etched with a weathered red-braise emblem, the edges slightly worn.
The lead pig turned around, his gaze sweeping across each face.
"From this point on, set your emotions aside."
His tone was gentle, yet left no room for question.
"If you can't control yourself, please step outside. If you understand, nod."
The five pigs nodded in unison, their expressions solemn—one of them quietly drew a breath.
The lead pig lowered his head and straightened the porcelain badge on his chest, ensuring it sat neatly against him, then raised his hoof and knocked on the door.
"Greetings. I'm the recorder for this session."
The door creaked open.
Inside, the light was dim and yellow, and two elder pigs were already seated.
They approached and gently pressed front hooves together in greeting, then lowered themselves on either side of the low table.
The conversation slowly began.
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The lead pig dipped his hoof in ink and pressed it down—each stamp precise and swift.
As he worked, he gently guided the conversation:
"It seems your father was a gentle soul."
“Gentle? He was never serious!”
The interviewed pig muttered, but his smile was that of a child.
"I knew he did it on purpose..."
Another lowered his head, a whimper escaping.
The two pigs laughed and cried, their emotions churning in the small space.
And at some point——unnoticed——the row of five had become only three.
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The conversation gradually faded into silence.
The lead pig neatly placed the record sheet, stamped with the family’s hoofprint, back onto the table with steady hands.
After nodding respectfully to the relatives, he led the group down the corridor to a cool stone chamber.
The air grew noticeably colder inside, filled with the scent of herbs and dampness.
On the stone platform lay a large, gray-white pig. His body had been carefully washed, and his hoof fur was neatly groomed.
The lead pig stepped forward to stand beside the platform, then turned to the family and said:
“We will now create two hoof print impressions from your father—— one will be kept in our archives, and the other is for you to take home.”
With that, he bowed deeply toward the pig on the platform.
He took a semi-dried block of clay from a wooden basin, placed it securely, then gently lifted the deceased’s right hoof and pressed it down.
The hoof sank into the clay, tiny bubbles escaping through the edges.
Once confirmed, he replaced it with a second block.
Two clear, complete hoofprints appeared on the clay surface.
He placed them carefully on a wooden tray, lifted it steadily, and presented it to the family.
“The impressions are complete.”
They stared at the clay, eyes rimmed with red, but said nothing more.
The lead pig nodded, then led the others away.
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Outside the door, six pigs stood in a straight line, silently waiting.
From within, muffled sobs and broken whispers seeped through the cracks.
The young pig clenched his jaws tight, forcing his eyes wide open——10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgCu7X7HAFF
afraid that even a single blink might shatter his composure.
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"Hi, here is the duplicate of the earlier record."
The lead pig handed over the sheet of paper.
"Once the mud print has been fired, we’ll deliver it to your residence."
After a brief exchange, he watched the family leave, their figures turning down the corridor and disappearing behind the wall.
The air fell quiet for a moment.
He turned back to the five young pigs behind him.
They still stood straight, expressions focused—but the light from when they first arrived had dimmed.
He didn’t say much, only spoke calmly:
"Next, I’ll take you to another place."
"Same rules apply."
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The evening sun cast a warm glow on the stone bricks, giving them a gentle sheen.
They walked to the back of the compound and entered a spacious room.
The scent here was different——10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEwndqj1TT6
the usual herbs were laced with the warmth of fresh blood.
They stood quietly in the corner, gazing toward the center of the room.
On a pile of dry hay lay a large pig, fur disheveled, sweat soaking her side, panting heavily.
Three midwife pigs moved with swift, practiced ease, each with a ceramic tag bearing five crossed sticks tied to their tails.
“The head’s out! Almost there!”10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxcHgQV6gfw
“Aaaah——!”10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOcsinkd3kp
“Honey… ngh…”
After a few sharp pushes, a soft, delicate squeal rang out.
“Congratulations, it’s a healthy little princess!”
“Honey…” he sobbed.
The pig on the ground rolled her eyes and gasped, weakly grumbling,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZAUWXpDH60
“…Are you the one giving birth, or am I?”
The midwives chuckled, and the atmosphere eased.
Once the area was cleaned up, one of them retrieved two small slabs of clay from a basket.
“Time to stamp the little princess’s hoofprints !“ "One will be kept at the center,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJcAWYHL0Q2
the other will go home with a birth certificate."
The newborn piglet, still soft as a ball of mochi, was gently lifted.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM9pgWpBVJh
Her front hoof was pressed into the clay.
Squelch——
Two tiny hoofprints emerged on the surface.
At that moment, the head pig’s steady voice came from the corner:
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Behind them, the quiet whimpers of new life echoed,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWxQEmPMSxq
intertwining with the sobs once heard through the door,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7f75xQF1fG
weaving a silent cycle through the hushed hallway.
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They walked down the corridor, their steps no longer as orderly as they had been in the morning.
A dark wooden door stood at the end, quiet and unmoving.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1B8nj3nXb6
The faint scent of wood hung in the air—familiar and comforting.
The lead pig stopped, lifting a hoof to touch the doorframe. He said nothing for a long time.
Then, he curved his mouth into a smile—the first one of the day.
“Go on, brave warriors,” he said.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaRDLgBjDBv
“This is the last place for today.”
The pigs at the door had reddened snouts and trembling lips.
No one said a word.
They simply exchanged a glance—then stepped forward and opened the door together.
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Behind the door was a warm kitchen hall.
The scent of vegetable soup filled the air——familiar and comforting. The five young pigs twitched their snouts slightly.
Grrrgle——
One of them froze, quickly pressing a hoof to his belly in an attempt to hide the sound. But before he could, a hearty laugh rang out from ahead:
“Hahaha, you’re all starving, aren’t you?”
A steady, vibrant figure stepped into the kitchen.
His fur was pure white and shining, his body broad and solid, his eyes warm with kindness. The pigs were just about to bow, but he stepped forward and pulled them all into a hug.
That embrace shattered every shred of composure and restraint.
“I’m the head of the Braised Hall. You’ve done well today.”
One of the pig clenched his teeth, his nose stinging, then finally broke down and wept in the headmaster’s arms. Then came the second, the third——
Right now, they were just children who had barely made it through their first day.
The headmaster quietly reached out and gently stroked their heads, one by one.
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After letting it all out, the young pigs sat in a circle, soup bowls held between their hooves, steam slowly rising.
“I’ve never seen a bone necklace with ten sticks carved on it before!”
One of them whispered in awe.
The hall master smiled, and without hesitation, took off the bone necklace hanging from his neck and handed it over.
“C-Can I really touch it…? That necklace is made from the former lord’s bones!”
“It’s fine. As long as we’re still alive, we carry it.”
Another pig leaned closer, curiosity in his eyes.
“I heard the nine-stick one was made from the former hall master’s bones. Is that true?”
The hall master lifted his bowl and took a sip of soup.
“Yes. Any necklace with nine sticks or more is carved from bone.“ ”When the current holder dies, the previous one is finally laid to rest——and their place is taken by the newly departed.”
“Why do you have to keep replacing them?”
“Well, that’s because——”
The others leaned in, wide-eyed and murmuring in awe.
In that moment, they had truly stepped into the legacy of the Braised Hall.
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