I have probably lived for a long time, and I have looked down on the taste of the world, and I inexplicably don't want to understand it anymore, guarding a small place of my own, enjoying life, and waiting for death.

The old society, before the new society to be exact, was in a small remote village, where there were not many families who lived in the middle, and they took root here and began to multiply the human race.

One day, the size of the village began to gradually grow, there were old people who died, children were born, young people went out to work outside to earn money, and old women farmed at home and raised children, in fact, there is nothing wrong with it.

But there will always be people who go out and come back again, and in the envious eyes of the villagers, those who go out, driving cars and wearing suits, feel like they are superior to others.

But there are also "stubborn" old people, who can't give up their dependence on the land, can't give up the desire for food in the depths of their souls, they have never stepped out, they can write a collection of tens of millions of words of stories in the past, but they may not be able to write, so they often talk about "how the past was", they don't have any big requirements, they must be satisfied, because they have experienced hardship, and they will feel that it is not easy.

And they are more reluctant to contact new things, and they enjoy what they are used to.

There is a place to shave the head in the small village, the shaver has decades of experience, in this small village, almost all the boys have shaved their heads with him when they were young, but they are all ugly "little flat heads", of course, many old people also shave their heads and shave their beards with him.

With each passing day, the little boys have grown up and no longer like ugly hairstyles, so they go to the hair salon to get their hair done and look cool.

And the old people never left, they didn't just shave their heads, they probably also lived for the shaver's life, and they were used to that feeling, the hands, the washbasin for washing their hair, and the razor for shaving their sideburns.

The shaver has not changed anything for decades, but the iron basin of the year has become a plastic basin, the wooden shelves and benches of the year have also been damaged, replaced with new ones, and the scissors and razors are also dull, but he did not choose the electric one, he still relies on his own craftsmanship to take care of the hair of the people in the village.

After the end, there is a dry towel, wipe the hair half-dry, and then collect a few small dollars, and the "guests" will not leave immediately, but sit here and chat.

The shaver has never used a hair dryer, so if it is cold, it is necessary for the "guests" to choose a good day, see which day the sun rises, take advantage of the sun, to shave their heads, and this half day will be reserved for shaving the head, and the time spent in the sun is also counted.