All that happened was his face slowly turned purple, and he became increasingly hazy, though he remained suspended in mid-air, still swinging the little demon on the swing. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier.,Villagers in homespun short shirts carried farm produce past him, casting sideways glances his way, their eyes twinkling with amusement. He could still hear the fading chatter of their conversation.,During the Jiajing reign of the Ming Dynasty, year thirty-six, this was a good era.。