--This chapter's number was deliberately adjusted. An earlier chapter had been numbered incorrectly, so it was changed back.
Toot! Toot! Toot!
Ta! Ta! Ta!
Cicada spirits, scarab beetles, and other spirit monsters blew their suonas with all their might.
Butterflies, thrushes, and other spirit monsters played pipas behind their backs.
Flower sprites flew all over the sky, carrying morning glories as flower baskets: they dabbed enticing floral scents behind every living being's ears, amplifying their desires.
The other spirit monsters also sang and danced, or hugged wine jars and gulped down wine, or held washbasins and devoured mouthfuls of meat.
Tables, chairs, and stools arranged themselves under the effects of spells. Even when drunkards smashed them apart, they sprouted legs and feet, piecing themselves back together to hold up a little longer.
Dao Seal Cultivators slapped their Hundred-Treasure Pouches, sending vast quantities of vegetables flying out.
They tumbled through the air and leaped down with full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spins: first, they lined up to wash themselves, then made their own way onto the chopping boards, waited for the blades to flash past, and jumped into the pots, weeping and wailing.
Dish after dish came out of the pots, sprouted wings, and swooped onto the tables.
More and more people ate and drank, and more and more living beings got drunk.
At that moment:
Whether Orthodox Cultivators, New-Method Cultivators, spirit monsters, or martial artists, at least two-thirds of them were drunk.
They leaned on one another, speaking of their troubles and their fear of the future.
In the end, they clung to one another and wept.
One spirit monster drank until sorrow overwhelmed him, suddenly washed himself spotless, and jumped straight into a pot with a roar: "Come on, turn your grandpa here into red-braised pork, and let the brothers I've just