Pigsy stared at the rake in the corner. He had seen the farmer use it to loosen the soil and more importantly, rake the leaves. In the darkest recesses of his memory, he thought he remembered standing on twos like the farmer and doing work.

Except that his work was boring, wasn’t it?

Among all the little pigs that were his brothers and sisters, Pigsy noticed a lot about what the farmers were doing. He could even understand what they were talking about. At first, all they had ever talked about was feeding the pigs until they grew round and plump, so that made Pigsy happy. Then, their conversations took a darker turn.

“Wife, the pigs are fattening up. We can sell them at the market.”

“But we must have one male and female to produce more, of course,” the wife said.

“Or perhaps we should keep one more stud and lead it around the farmlands. I know other farmers would pay for us to help their sows reproduce.”

“That is a good idea.”

“In two weeks, they’ll be fat enough. And we can sell them.”

“But first, Hong and his son will pay us a visit. We’ll serve one of them to him. ”

Pigsy’s blood ran cold. He knew he was…someone in another life, and he didn’t want to be sold. His other siblings were oblivious to this, rolling in the mud and squealing with joy. No matter how hard he tried to tell them what was happening, they ignored him. They were just… pigs. He knew he had to do something. In order to hold the rake, he had to learn how to walk like a human being, at least.

A few days later, Pigsy heard the man sharpening his knife. This was bad news. The farmer emerged from the house and gingerly crept into the pen. There, all the pigs oinked and sniffed at him, and Pigsy tried to do the same. He knew that if he acted differently, he would be chosen.

But the farmer chose him anyway.

“This is a good, fat one for Hong and his son!” he bent down to pick Pigsy up, but Pigsy dashed past him and tried to leap out of the pen. The pig didn’t succeed and had to run away from the knife. The farmer chased him as his pigs zig-zagged here and there, confused in the chaos. Seeing his chance, Pigsy gathered up speed and leapt over the fence. He tried standing on two legs to grab the rake and all the farming tools clattered to the ground. Shocked, the farmer blinked. In the next second, Pigsy shot out of the farm like a rocket and dashed away.

He ran and ran and ran. It didn’t matter how long he did it and he did not stop. The borders of the farm faded and now he was wading through grass. No matter what, Pigsy knew, he could not stop. People would eat him.

“Marshall Tianpeng,” a voice called out.

He looked up. It was Bodhisattva Guan Yin. In her hands was the rake that he had wanted, except… it was different. It had been sharpened and all of its nine prongs gleamed in the dimming sunlight.

“I bestow this weapon. You will be able to wield it. Should you come across a monk, remember to protect him. At the end of all your trials and tribulations, a boon will be granted, should you repent. Now, go.”

Pigsy wanted to thank her, but all that came out was a grunt. As she vanished, he looked at his front hooves and realised that they were hands. He could stand up as well. Overjoyed, he picked up the rake and strolled into the sunset. His life was just beginning.

Illustration by the wonderful Shelley Low