Pei Ye came back to himself and turned his head. "...What is it, Miss Ming? Sorry, I'm not very good with a sword..."
Ming Yun shook her head, a smile touching her lips. "You used it very well. That was exactly what I had in mind when I made the sword."
"Back then, I even thought perhaps no one would ever perceive such a subtle artistic conception." The girl looked at him with some delight, then shifted her gaze. "Then what about this one?"
Pei Ye stared at her in a daze. The girl really was different from the Ming Qitian he knew. She certainly possessed that same clear serenity, but she did not face everything with perpetual equanimity.
Whether it was the occasional tilt of her head, her bright eyes, or the fingers playing with the pages, every tiny detail revealed her present pleasure.
She truly loved swords, and she truly enjoyed talking with him.
Suddenly, Pei Ye hardly dared look at that bright, beautiful face. He followed her gaze to the wall. "...This one seems like..."
Ming Yun watched him quietly.
"...'Wine'?"
"Yes!"
Ming Yun gently closed her hands around the book. "Because I've never drunk wine... in fact, I've hardly even seen it. This spirit came entirely from poetry and prose. So I thought this sword had probably strayed from the meaning and missed the mark, and I was only deluding myself..."
"No, you did very well!" Pei Ye looked at this sword of Xiao Tuo's. "If you asked me to speak of wine with a sword, I certainly couldn't. No, even if you asked me to explain it in words, I couldn't make it clear."
Ming Yun smiled. "Mm... do you drink often?"
"...I drank often when I used it to supplement my medicine these past