instruments in order to express their innermost feelings.
So stirring were the clear shrill notes, even the small paper figure cocked up his ears. It transformed the sized texture of his being. He began to laugh and dance like an elfin figure. He stood on his head and wiggled his toes. Next he turned somersaults, after which he danced again.
Ming Huang had drunken much at lunch, so that might have accounted for his complete satisfaction. Or perhaps the firm tips of the breasts of Lady T'ai Chên were barely perceptible as he gazed down upon her and her silk jacket fell a trifle away from her throat. In any event he was in a mood to applaud. Some, without imagination, have since suggested that perhaps it was only the spirit of the wine that he saw dancing. However, in the mind of the Emperor there was no doubt. Therefore, when suddenly the magician seized the small boy, tore him into small bits and tossed them on the air where they seemed like almond blossoms falling, Ming Huang was angered.
"Was such brutality necessary?"
"The boy was without feeling," explained Ch'i-ch'i. "Had he been a real boy I'd have sacrificed my life for him even if in doing so my blood had spattered on the floor like rain. It was merely a trick, Your Majesty. Albeit, it is a trick that has frequently been of rare service to me. For instance, one night I was walking down a long, dark, evil road. Bandits had been reported in the
neighborhood, and though demons shunned that lone-
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