The Last Eunuch

My family has a rule that has been passed down for six generations, and all work is done when the rooster crows for the first time. Today is no exception. I took out the ancestral "curved-edged knife" from the deerskin sheath. The blade reflected the yellow light of the oil lamp, and also reflected half of my gray face. A car horn sounded from downstairs. This is the 14th year of the Republic of China, not the 14th year of Guangxu. Outside the glass window, ladies in cheongsam were strutting through the market with gentlemen in suits on their arms, and newsboys shouted "Zhang Zuolin is coming to Beijing." No one cares that in this old alley lives the last eunuch craftsman who can "purify himself". The sword is still the same sword, but the world is no longer the same. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.