The Waning Front of the New Moon

The master said that when we forge swords, we have to inherit a period of time. That year, my right hand was broken, so I hid in the back alleys of Chang'an and worked as a blacksmith. They came to me with scraps of scrap metal and begged me to make swords: "Uncle Can, this sword should be called Shuanghen, with the death of the twelfth lunar month." I weighed people's hearts and knew what sword he should use: a crescent moon sword for revenge against blood relatives, and a heavy sword for young heroes to watch the night. Until the general ordered to "gather the stars from all directions to become the emperor star", the city of Chang'an was instantly filled with blood and fire. But they didn't know that when the dew on the sword tip turned into frost, it also carved scars on the sword master's remaining arm.