"They felled trees upon the slope, and strained wine overflowed. Baskets and dishes stood in rows; let no brother remain afar. When people fall from virtue, even dry provisions bring fault." (The Book of Songs, "Lesser Court Hymns: Felling Trees")
They felled trees on the hillside, and strained wine spilled over the vats. Plates and bowls were neatly arrayed, in hopes that brothers, kin, and friends would not grow distant. Do not let quarrels wound your harmony; strife among loved ones breeds the greatest calamity.
Xing Yun sang softly, raising her head to watch the two women dance with their swords. The words she sang were truly a heartfelt appeal.
Yet the two had grown carried away with their contest. Their sword strokes grew ever fiercer, their shifting movements ever swifter. Two phantom figures intertwined, their swords ringing and flashing without cease.
"If there is wine, strain it for me; if there is none, buy it for me. Beat the drums for me, dance in joyful measure for me. Now that I have leisure, let me drink this strained wine." (The Book of Songs, "Lesser Court Hymns: Felling Trees")
Strain the wine if there is wine; buy more when it runs dry. Set the drums ringing, and dance together in delight. Today offers a fine hour; let us drink our fill.
Xing Yun's song had ended, but Hu Meier and Ling Jinyu had already fought themselves into a temper. Neither woman would stop.
Everyone present exchanged looks, none daring to speak. This was a half-demon fighting a Dao Zun. Apart from Mu Bai, no one there could have stopped them even if they wished to.
Mu Bai, however, merely poured and drank his own wine. Though he had the strength, he did not know how to stop the two women