"Lalala, lalala-lalala-lala, oh Zhen'er, follow my tune." Alone in her room, with her white tiger crawling nearby, Yuemi held Xinzi's monk-body, twirling and singing with rattling gaiety and complete abandon. The inert body didn't follow Yuemi's dance, but the Lord-Regent didn't care, pulling its hands and bending its feet so it'd keep up the pace.
"Zhen'er, why won't you follow my tune? Oh yes, I forgot, your soul is in your true shell. Sad, I've always wanted you to lead me into one wild dance. Oh, Zhen'er, so many look down on my acts and deeds, finding them distasteful for a Night Spirit—unworthy of the Hengye clan. But I, the sad marquess, insist on twirling in my own madness. My madness will prevail, enabling me to taste the elusive fruit that led Wuxin astray.
