The afternoon sun bathed the grasslands in warm light, a gentle breeze drifting through the open fields.

A group of pink piggies, full and content, wandered about at their leisure—soaking up the sun, swishing their tails, and trotting along with cheerful oinks.

Then, all at once, the air seemed to tear open, as if brushed aside by an invisible hand—

Pop!

A human suddenly appeared on the grass.

The nearest pig bristled instantly, kicking off with its hind legs and stumbling backward several steps, letting out a sharp cry.

“Oink oink oink—!”

Hearing the commotion, the other piggies turned their heads in unison, and the mood across the grassland tightened in an instant.

Just then, a small pig standing in the middle tilted its head, letting out a puzzled, low oink.

“Oink?”

It waddled closer and nudged the man lying on the ground with its snout.

Then came a second sound.

“Oink…?”

A third.

“Oink oink?”

As those oinks echoed one after another, it was as if the piggies had suddenly unlocked some hidden piece of information—
eyes widening, hooves pounding, they burst into motion and swarmed toward the man in a pink, thunderous rush.

The man was still lying on the ground, eyes shut tight, a faint crease drawn between his brows.

Only when he opened his eyes—

A pig’s snout was pressed right against his forehead.

Filling his vision—
more than a dozen pairs of glistening pig eyes, noses twitching again and again, as if trying to sniff out which pig family he might be related to.

The man froze for a moment.

The next second, his eyes reddened.

He didn’t say a word—just lifted a hand and gently patted the head of one of the pigs.

The little pig startled, but didn’t dodge.
Instead, it placed a hoof against his chest, as if checking whether he was injured.

The other piggies followed suit—nudging here, prodding there, touching him carefully, yet with a practiced ease that made one wonder whether they’d once worked in an emergency room.

The man laughed.

His eyes were wet, but his lips curved upward as he let them poke, press, shove, and lick him, completely unmoving.

Once they’d confirmed he was fine, the piggies seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief, swiftly switching back into their everyday mode.

They took him to play hide-and-seek, taught him how to properly wash soft, pink hooves, and even invited him to serve as a judge for the latest “Hundred-Star Braised Pork Competition”.

He was cleaning the bowls and chopsticks he had just used when, all of a sudden, a voice echoed inside his mind—

“Welcome to the Pigdom. It’s time to go back.”

His hands paused mid-motion.
After a moment, he let out a soft smile.

“Thank you… for letting me come back here again.”

The One Above All’s voice replied gently, “I merely heard your prayers, day and night.”

The man lowered his gaze, his eyes resting on the bowl in his hands—
still bearing the imprint of a pig’s snout.
His voice was calm, yet carried a long-lost certainty.

“I used to think it was all just a dream.”

“Until the day I saw the boss bring Lil’ Pink into the office—then I understood.”

“So it really was all real.”

“Is that so? Then… would you like to take one of them back with you?”

He looked up at the piggies—those lives wagging their tails, running freely beneath the sunlight—

Then he shook his head.

“No need. They’d be happier staying here… I think.”

The One Above All fell silent for a few seconds, then let out a soft laugh.

“Then go say goodbye to them.”

The man set the bowl and utensils aside and walked toward the pigs, who were busy drawing in the mud.

He said nothing—
only reached out to them one by one, patting their heads, pulling them into gentle embraces, pressing his cheek against theirs.

When he finished hugging the last one, his figure seemed to melt into the sunlight and the herd—
quietly, without a sound, fading from the grassland.

But the pigs did not scatter.

They gathered into a circle and sat there, tails swaying back and forth.

Watching the scene, the One Above All couldn’t help but ask,

“He’s changed so much since he was young. How did you recognize him?”

The pigs let out a low hum.
Then the others joined in—oink, oink, oink—one after another.

The One Above All understood.
A soft laugh slipped out.

“Hahaha…”

“So it’s the same after all—
that gentle scent.”

Some things grow, change, and leave.
But some things—

like a scent—

remain hidden in the softest place,
never truly fading away.