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In the ancient village of Huangling, nestled in the misty mountains of Wuyuan, winter is not just a season—it is a time of reverence, ritual, and community. TheWinter Sacrifice to the Mountain God is one of the village's most solemn and enduring traditions, a centuries-old ceremony that pays homage to the spirits of the land and celebrates the deep bond between people and nature.

As the cold sets in, villagers rise before dawn to begin their preparations. In front of the ancestral hall, the village butcher, wielding an heirloom blade, performs the ritual slaughter of theyear’s ceremonial pig. The animal, washed clean and draped in red cloth, is offered with prayers recited by village elders. Its bright red pork is then carefully divided—half as a sacred offering, half to be shared among the villagers.

The sharp crack of the blade, the rising steam from fresh meat, and the solemn chanting together form a striking winter tableau—equal parts sacred rite and everyday reality.

On the day of the sacrifice, villagers shoulder offerings—whole pig heads, hams, incense, candles, and rice wine—and ascend theancient bluestone path winding into the mountain. A traditionalgong and drum troupe leads the way with powerful rhythms, while children follow joyfully wearing handwoven masks of the Mountain God. The haunting sound of thesuona (a traditional horn) echoes through the valleys, announcing the sacred procession.

At theShe Altar, halfway up the mountain, the village elder with a white beard performs the key ritual: dotting the pig’s head with cinnabar ink, and placingfive-color rice, camellia oil, and freshly butchered pork on the altar. This is a moment of spiritual communion—where the offerings connect the living to the divine.

After the prayers, the women bring out the chopping boards and evenly divide the “blessed meat.” Wrapped in fragrant lotus leaves, still warm from the ritual, the meat is shared with every household—a sacred gift symbolizing divine favor and community unity.

As dusk falls, the village transforms once again. Ahundred-meter-long street banquet is laid out along the ancient post road. Families bring out their ornateEight Immortals tables, forming a continuous “dragon” of celebration. The air is rich with the aroma offirewood-stewed pork dishes: clear pig blood curd floating in spicy broth, amber-colored bacon simmering with tender winter bamboo shoots. This profound celebration—merging sacred sacrifice with joyful feast—is more than a cultural event. It is a vivid expression of Huangling’s ancestral wisdom, its reverence for nature, and the warmth of its people. From the solemn ritual at the ancestral hall to the laughter around hotpots at twilight, every moment speaks of an age-old harmony between humans and the mountains they call home