Zhang Qianhai returned home, lingering as he looked at every corner of his home.
It was as if he wanted to imprint these deeply in his mind.
He had made a certain decision and was determined to implement it.
His son had a wife and children; he shouldn't be dragged down by that woman.
But he himself had reached this age, with no attachments.
Zhang Qianhai took out the pig-slaughtering knife again and fetched a ladle of water.
He sat in the yard and started sharpening the knife.
People passing by greeted Butcher Zhang.
"Yo, the new year isn't over yet, why is Old Zhang sharpening his knife?"
Butcher Zhang had his own rules.
After finishing slaughtering pigs before the New Year, he would seal the knife on New Year's Eve.
He wouldn't take out the knife for business again until after the first lunar month.
According to him, this was a rule passed down from his ancestors.
Too much blood on the pig-slaughtering knife, using it during the first month was inauspicious.
