On the day Shen Xiucai became the flower girl in high school, he sent me a letter of divorce. "How can a pig-killing girl match the handsome man?" The whole city was laughing at my wishful thinking. I carried a bone-chopping knife into his house that night, and the tip of the knife scratched his trembling face: "My husband, you have forgotten, how did you get your fame?" "When my father's intestines were torn apart by a wild boar to save you, you knelt down and swore to be a butcher for him for the rest of his life." Blood dripped on the imperial wedding robe he had just put on, and I chuckled: "Now, it's your turn to inherit my family's craftsmanship."
