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The butcher's knife on the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month is the most powerful. Chen San was squatting at the head of the bridge in Liuhe Town, sharpening his knife. Under the whetstone was pressed Zhang Sujie, which was removed from the beams of the tofu shop yesterday - Mrs. Su always posted the credit list there, and the third line always read "Chen San, two pairs of pigs in the water."

The wind and snow in the rivers and lakes are like a knife, cutting off the entanglement of blood and evil. Butcher Chen San's butcher knife could only cut open the throat of a new year pig, but on the night of the twelfth lunar month when his love was just beginning, a cinnabar mole on Su Yuniang's wrist burned her heart. She quickly withered like an epiphyllum under the moon, leaving him half-frozen lovesickness. Many years later, Yin Jiuniang, a woman in purple who crawled out of the pile of corpses outside the Great Wall, used seven poison-quenching knives and the jade ring on his severed finger to forge him into a sharp blade that could seal his throat with blood. She taught him the killing technique of gouging out three inches of the heart, and also gave him a love charm that was deeper than a knife wound. The red lotus tattoo bloomed in the sea of ​​​​blood, and the ice and snow buried the past. When the sword array of Qingcheng Mountain crushed the remaining image of the purple clothes, Chen Sanfang knew that the most painful knife in the world was originally the love of separation and unrequited love.