Yi Yi had already swallowed his bite of beef. He picked up the wine bowl to prevent himself from vomiting.

Li Bai pointed at the gourd. “Under my direction, the Devouring Empire has built a number of distilleries, already capable of producing many of the wines famous on Earth. This is bona-fide zhuyeqing, made by steeping bamboo leaves in sorghum liquor.”

Yi Yi only now discovered that the wine in his bowl was different from what Li Bai had brought previously. It was emerald green, with a sweet aftertaste of herbs.

“Looks like you’ve really mastered human culture,” Yi Yi said feelingly to Li Bai.

“That’s not all. I’ve also spent a lot of time on personal enrichment. As you know, the scenery of many parts of the Devouring Empire is near identical to what Li Bai saw on Earth. In these two months, I’ve wandered the mountains and waters, feasting my eyes on picturesque landscapes, drinking wine under moonlight, declaiming poetry on mountain summits, even having a few romantic encounters in the human feedlots everywhere …”

“Then, you should be ready to show me your works of poetry.”

Li Bai exhaled and set down his wine bowl. He stood and paced uneasily. “I’ve composed some poems, yes, and I’m certain you’d be astonished at them. You’d find that I’m already a remarkable poet, even more remarkable than you and your great-grandfather. But I don’t want you to see the poems, because I’m equally certain you’d think they fail to surpass Li Bai’s. And I …” He looked up and far away, at the residual radiance of the setting sun, his gaze dazed and pained. “I think so too.”

On the distant prairie, the dances had ended. People were happily turning to their abundant dinner. A group of girls ran to the riverbank to splash in the shallows near shore. Circlets of flowers adorned their heads, and light gauze like mist draped over their bodies, forming an intoxicating scene in the lighting of dusk. Yi Yi pointed at one girl near the hut. “Is she beautiful?”

“Of course,” Li Bai said, looking uncomprehendingly at Yi Yi.

“Imagine cutting her open with a sharp knife, removing her every organ, plucking out her eyes, scooping out her brain, picking out all her bones, slicing apart her muscles and fat according to position and function, gathering her blood vessels and nerves into two bundles. Finally, imagine laying out a big white cloth and arranging all those pieces, classified according to anatomical principles. Would you still think her beautiful?”

“How do you think of such a thing while drinking? Disgusting,” Li Bai said, wrinkling his brow.

“How is it disgusting? Is this not the technology you worship?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Li Bai saw nature like you see the girls down by the riverside. But in technology’s eyes, nature is its components, perfectly arrayed and dripping blood on a white cloth. Therefore, technology is antithetical to poetry.”