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[daier]

Tension busy year has passed this way. Preganglionic always feel that the time had been very slow,
wow power leveling, really festive another time passes, the twinkling of an eye on is beginning to

work.
Sometimes really feel the tired, I really do not know if people really want to experience this life how difficult frustrations can

all is well. Sometimes I was very upset, many reasons,
wow power leveling,from many aspects in life, so long for the kind of

rural life in particular, picturesque. North Korea hear birdsong, Xi sunset sunset tours. Eager to listen to crickets and Higurashi

grass, like the twilight children playing in the backs of cattle leisurely pleasant. wow power leveling,There are reed Dang River in the setting of a pair of wild ducks and birds unknown in the

switchgrass on singing. This reminds me of my hometown.
I remember when I go to the stream behind Dyke fish, as always in the days after the rain or when skip class. Often will be thrown

into a muddy, because the mother‘s fear of punishment,wow power leveling, but

only in the dark until the call in the mother anxious to go home. In that small farmers warm homes, the mother is always wearing

aprons hands together in the mouth, loud my name until they see me, then look into a touch of kindness instant smile , holding my

dirty little hands, mouth gently with the chatter, the eyes are full of love. At the time,
wow power leveling,I can say is the most happiness.
Because of geographical location, the village has always been very convenient to eat fish, mothers often have to eat in when told

his father, "hey, no dishes at home." Will be quietly picked up his father‘s fishing nets and led her sister came home and I only

twenty or thirty meters of river.extensive mountain stands in the dark blue of the river bank, the foot of the hill is the dense

forest. Shade trees, the river southclear. A leaf boat the ripple in the lake,
maple story mesos, groups of waterbirdsgroup. Because it is in the summer season, the

water temperature high, the fish are large numbers posted on the surface of the mouth, the cheerful amusement, and fatherat this

time, the radio networkaccurate enclosures up, and then slowly but surely dragged ashore, all the fish indiscriminately crowhop,

and a roll of the soil. I am with his sister to the bucket up with each other, with the rough all the way in his father‘s funeral

home. At this time the mother would be very early in the yard of a small branch from wok, pot is a ring of three-legged teams up

formwork, formwork children under the wood shelf,oil, to a garden Lane picked severaland parsley, cook a good pot add water to

clean up the fish next to the pot, and then scoop a bowl of special soybean farmers cover pot, fill juh. Only a moment, then filled

with a thick fish-flavored small courtyard of the farmhouse.set up a family sitting, small rice, Jiang fish sauce, coriander.
maple story mesos,Well, that smell on the brim of the opening to the moment of time

I will never forget, then warm, then no worry.
Today, the home of distant mountains and I, I by a non-life of a child, off to become a middle-aged. Wife, mother, shouldering too

many responsibilities and obligations. Also cried and laughed too. When all of the loss and happy have become less important, all

the. Life left to me,maple story mesos, remember who‘s fault, aside from their own things too

far. City tense and busy life, I willin tight spare time, holding a cup of green tea,stand, looking from afar. In the north-east of

the sea, in that distant sea, the mountains in the hill village, there is a ripe old age of my father‘s health, there areI am so

tired of hand-foot-brother and sister are healthy, there have been The mother passed away.
This year‘s Spring Festival, hurried past, away from home in recent days it has been.
a cup of green tea

[punk1212]

　If I had my life to live over...I would have talked less and listened more.
　　I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was strained and the sofa faded.
　　I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
　　I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
　　I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
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　　I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
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　　I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.
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　　I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding patter if I were not there for the day.
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　　Iwould never have bought anything just because it was practical, would not show soil or was guaranteed to last a life time.
　　There would have been more "I love yous" ... more "I'm sorrys"... but mostly, given another shots at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.

Living Life Over

[punk1212]

In English class, one girl said never give up when discussing. It just reminded me something about myself.

Maybe it is something about love. My love, which began on July 3rd of 2005 and finished on August 23rd of 2008, taught me many things. It is not a pleasant thing to look back on that. But I know I must learn something from it, no matter what it is, happiness or sorrow.
Our love did not go on so smoothly and we went through many things. When we were confronting difficulties, he always told me “never give up”. I insisted that we would love
each other forever and that we would overcome all difficulties so long as we never give up. It was the reason that we can persist though we did not live in the same city.
This summer, he came to Qingdao campus. I was so glad because we could study together from then on. But all to my surprise, things changed so fast and out of my control.
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In these days, I am always trying my best to forget all the things of him. But it is not an easy thing. At last I know that when we promise something, we just believe we will
try our best to realize it, but if things change, we may do nothing about it.
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PS: Writing these words, I suddenly don’t know what to say next. Maybe we should believe the person who told you never give up. Here, I want to bless for the boy once told me never give up. Wish you have a happy life in your future.

NEVER GIVE UP

[wenzi110]

I have a friend who must be the sweetest, shyest person in the world. His name is brittle and ancient (Luke), his age modestly intermediate (forty). He is rather short and skinny, has a thin moustache and even thinner hair on his head. Since his vision is not perfect, he wears glasses: they are small, round and frame-less.

In order not to inconvenience anyone, he always walks sideways. Instead of saying 'Excuse me', he prefers to glide by one side. If the gap is so narrow that it will not allow him to pass, Luke waits patiently until the obstruction -- be it animate or inanimate, rational or irrational -- moves by itself. Stray dogs and cats panic him, and in order to avoid them he constantly crosses from one side to of the road to another.
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He speaks with a very thin, subtle voice, so inaudible that it is hard to tell if he is speaking at all. He has never interrupted anybody. On the other hand, he can never manage more than two words without somebody interrupting him. This does not seem to irritate him; in fact, he actually appears happy to have been able to utter those two words.
My friend Luke has been married for years. His wife is a thin, choleric, nervous woman who, as well as having an unbearably shrill voice, strong lungs, a finely drawn nose and a viperous tongue suffers from an uncontrollable temper and the personality of a lion tamer. Luke -- you have to wonder how -- has succeeded in producing a child named (by his mother) Juan Manuel. He is tall, blond, intelligent, distrustful, sarcastic and has a fringe. It is not entirely true that he only obeys his mother. However, the two of them have always agreed that Luke has little to offer the world and therefore choose to ignore his scarce and rarely expressed opinions.

Luke is the oldest and the least important employee of a dismal company that imports cloth. It operates out of a very dark building with black-stained wooden floors situated in Alsina street. The owner -- I know him personally -- is called don Aqueróntido -- I don't know whether that is his first name or his surname -- and he has a ferocious moustache, is bald and has a thunderous voice. He is also violent and greedy. My friend Luke goes to work dressed all in black, wearing a very old suit that shines from age. He only owns one shirt -- the one he wore for the first time on the day of his marriage -- and it has an anachronistic plastic collar. He also only owns one tie, so frayed and greasy that it looks more like a shoelace. Unable to bear the disapproving looks of don Aqueróntido, Luke, unlike his colleagues, does not dare work without his jacket on and in order to keep this jacket in good condition he wears a pair of grey sleeve-protectors. His salary is ludicrously low, but he still stays behind in the office every day and works for another three or four hours: the tasks don Aqueróntido gives him are so huge that he has no wow gold chance of accomplishing them within normal hours. Now, just after the don Aqueróntido cut his salary yet again, his wife has decided that Juan Manuel must not do his secondary studies in a state school. She has chosen to put his name down for a very costly institution in the Belgrano area. In view of the extortionate outlay this involves, Luke has stopped buying his newspaper and (an even greater sacrifice) The Reader's Digest, his two favourite publications. The last article he managed to read in the Reader's Digest explained how husbands should repress their own overwhelming personality in order to make room for the actualisation of the rest of the family group.

[taotao]

Everyday is A Gift
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This", he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip.
It was exquisite, silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached."Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion.
Well, I guess this is the occasion. (wow gold,)
He took the slip from me and put it on the bed, with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me, "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you' re alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savour, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moment now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special. Event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom… I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28. 49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party going friends.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I' m not sure what my sister would've done had she know that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted.
I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize, and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing. I'll never know.(wow gold)
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.
I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that every day, every minute, every breath truly, is... a gift from God.

[Guest_xiaoting_*]

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[lmaomao]

The Einstein of the fish world may be the nine-spined stickleback, suggests new research that determined this common European fish possesses an unusually sophisticated capacity for learning not yet documented in any other animal, aside from humans.
The unassuming, small-headed fish proves tiny brains can yield "surprising cognitive abilities," according to project leader Jeremy Kendal, whose team discovered the stickleback can compare the behavior of other fish with its own experiences in order to make better choices.
This learning method, known as "hill-climbing," is necessary for cumulative culture and was thought to be unique to humans.
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"Cases such as nut-cracking in chimpanzees, or tool use in New Caledonian crows, are potentially consistent with such a strategy, but the strategy has yet to be shown unambiguously (in these other animals)," Kendal, a Durham University anthropologist, told Discovery News.
For the study, published in the journal Behavioral Ecology, he and his colleagues caught 270 nine-spined sticklebacks in Leicester, England. The fish were organized into experimental groups. These fish groups then took turns as either free swimmers in a tank with worm-yielding feeders at the end, or as "learners" in a transparent, partitioned-off area of the specially designed tank.
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One of the two feeders released more worms than the other. The fish quickly gravitated to this "rich feeder." When these fish then went into the observation semi-circle portion of the tank, the researchers swapped the feeders. The new free swimmers, as before, made a beeline for the feeder with a more plentiful worm reward.
When the observation fish group was released back into the part of the tank with the feeders, 75 percent were "clever" enough to know from watching the other sticklebacks that the feeders had been switched, so they didn't just rely upon their own experience with the feeders.
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Additional research conducted by the same team of scientists found that the likelihood of copying the behavior of another increased with the rate at which this other individual fed. The fish aren't therefore just mindlessly copying each other. They are instead "being selective about when and who they copy."
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Kendal thinks the nine-spined stickleback might have been "forced to learn" this rather complex strategy because the species is scrawnier than many other fish, with an anatomy that doesn't offer significant protection from predators. Instead of risking being eaten while searching for food, it benefits the fish to find out exactly where the best sources are at ahead of time and to go directly to them.
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"It is possible that, rather than evolve to become more sturdy, it is less costly for the nine-spines to evolve the capacity to exploit foraging information provided by observing others," he explained, mentioning that tougher three-spined sticklebacks don't seem to have such a brainy solution to foraging challenges.
Culum Brown, a University of Edinburgh researcher and editor of the book "Fish Cognition and Behavior," told Discovery News, the study "shows that fishes are using a mixture of their own knowledge and weighing it up against cultural information."
"In many ways," Brown said, "fish are just as smart as other animals."
While fish seem to exhibit frequent flashes of mental brilliance, the stickleback's hill-climbing strategy has yet to result in more human-like, high-tech capabilities, probably because fish habitats are so unstable.
"A massive constraint for the fish is that the environment can change rapidly, so information about a good foraging site can become redundant after a short time," Kendal said. "This resets the cumulative process and the fish have to start again acquiring new information."
"This means we might not expect any spectacular cumulative cultural evolution like seen in humans," he said, "but watch this space. We know so little and are constantly surprised about what they can do!"

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[caoxueer]

For any given task in Britain there are more men than are needed. Strong unions keep them there in

Fleet Street, home of some London’s biggest dailies, it is understood that when two unions quarrel

over three jobs, the argument is settled by giving each union two. Thru means 33 per cent over

manning, 33 per cent less productivity than could be obtained.
A reporter who has visited plants throughout Europe has an impression that the pace of work is much

slower here. Nobody tries tm hard. Tea breaks do matter and are frequent. It is hard to measure

intensity of work, but Britons give a distinct impression of going at their tasks in a more leisurely

way.wow power leveling,
But is all this so terrible? It certainly does not improve the gross national product or output per

worker. Those observant visitors, however, have noticed something else about Britain. It is a pleasant

place.
Street crowds in Stockholm. Paris and New York move quickly and silently heads down, all in a hurry.

London crowds tend to walk at an easy pace (except in the profitable, efficient City, the financial

district).
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Every stranger is struck by the patient and orderly way in which Britons queue for a bus; if the

saleswoman is slow and out of stock she will likely say,‘oh dear, what a pity’; the rubbish

collectors stop to chat and call the housewives“Luv”. Crime rises here as in every city but there

still remains a gentle tone and temper that is unmatched in Berlin, Milan or Detroit.It short, what is

wrong with Britain may also be what is right. Having reached a tolerable standard, Britons appear to

be choosing leisure over goods.56. What happens when disputes over job opportunities arise among

British unions?A) Thirty-three per cent of the workers will be out of workB) More people will be

employed than necessaryC) More jobs will be created by the governmentD) The unions will try to

increase productivity.57.

What does the reporter who has visited plants throughout Europe think about Britain?A) Tea breaks do

not affect the intensity of work in BritainB) Britons do their work in an unhurried sort of wayC) The

pace of work in Continental Europe is much slower than in BritainD) Britons give the impression of

working intensively58.“The breaks do matter” ( Para.2 Line 2) indicates tha they are an important

aspect of the British way of lifeB) they are greatly enjoyed by British workersC) they can be used by

the workers as excuse to take time off from workD) they help the workers to be on good terms with each

other59. The word“this” (Para.3 Line.1) refers
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leveling,to the fact tha there are more men on any given job than are neededB) 33 per cent over

manning leads to 33 per cent less productivityC) it is difficult to measure the intensity of workD)

Britons generally do not want to work too hard60. By“what is wrong with Britain may also be what is

right” (Para.6, Line.1) the author means to say tha quarrels between unions will help create jobsB) a

leisurely way of life helps Britons increase productivityC) the gentle tone and temper of the people

in Britain makes it a pleasant placeD) Britons will not sacrifice their leisure to further in crease

productivityPassage

Street crowds in Stockholm.

[sunshine]

... You see that big nail to the right of the front door? I can scarcely look at it even now and yet I could not bear to take it out. I should like to think it was there always even after my time. I sometimes hear the next people saying, “There must have been a cage hanging from there.” And it comforts me. I feel he is not quite forgotten. world of warcraft gold

　　... You cannot imagine how wonderfully he sang. It was not like the singing of other canaries. And that isn't just my fancy. Often, from the window I used to see people stop at the gate to listen, or they would lean over the fence by the mock-orange2) for quite a long time — carried away. I suppose it sounds absurd to you — it wouldn't if you had heard him — but it really seemed to me he sang whole songs, with a beginning and an end to them.

　　For instance, when I finished the house in the afternoon, and changed my blouse and brought my sewing on the verandah3) here, he used to hop, hop, hop from one perch4) to the other, tap against the bars as if to attract my attention, sip a little water, just as a professional singer might, and then break into a song so exquisite5) that I had to put my needle down to listen to him. I can't describe it; I wish I could. But it was always the same, every afternoon, and I felt that I understood every note of it.

　　... I loved him. How I loved him! Perhaps it does not matter so very much what it is one loves in this world. But love something one must! Of course there was always my little house and the garden, but for some reason they were never enough. Flowers respond wonderfully, but they don't sympathize. Then I loved the evening star. Does that sound ridiculous? I used to go into the backyard, after sunset, and wait for it until it shone above the dark gum tree. I used to whisper, “There you are, my darling.” And just in that first moment it seemed to be shining for me alone. It seemed to understand this... something which is like longing, and yet it is not longing. Or regret — it is more like regret. And yet regret for what? I have much to be thankful for!

　　... But after he came into my life I forgot the evening star; I did not need it any more. But it was strange. When the Chinaman who came to the door with birds to sell held him up in his tiny cage, and instead of fluttering6), fluttering, like the poor little goldfinches7), he gave a faint, small chirp8). I found myself saying, just as I had said to the star over the gum tree, “There your are, my darling.” From that moment he was mine! cheap wow gold

　　... It surprises even me now to remember how he and I shared each other's lives. The moment I came down in the morning and took the cloth off his cage he greeted me with a drowsy9) little note. I knew it meant “Missus10)! Missus!” Then I hung him on the nail outside while I got my three young men their breakfasts, and I never brought him in, to do his cage, until we had the house to ourselves again. Then, when the washing-up was done, it was quite a little entertainment. I spread a newspaper over a corner of the table and when I put the cage on it he used to beat with his wings, despairingly, as if he didn't know what was coming. “You're a regular little actor,” I used to scold him. I scraped, dusted it with fresh sand, filled his seed and water tins, tucked a piece of chickweed11) and half a chili12) between the bars. And I am perfectly certain he understood and appreciated every item of this little performance. You see by nature he was exquisitely neat. There was never a speck13) on his perch. And you'd only to see him enjoy his bath to realise he had a real small passion for cleanliness. His bath was put in last. And themoment it was in he positively leapt into it. First he fluttered one wing, then the other, then he ducked his head and dabbled14) his breast feathers. Drops of water were scattered all over the kitchen, but still he would not get out. I used to say to him, “Now that's quite enough. You're only showing off.” And at last out he hopped and standing on one leg he began to peck himself dry. Finally he gave a shake, a flick15), a twitter16) and he lifted his throat — Oh, I can hardly bear to recall it. I was always cleaning the knives by then. And it almost seemed to me the knives sang too, as I rubbed them bright on the board. (buy wow gold)

　　... Company, you see, that was what he was. Perfect company. If you have lived alone you will realize how precious that is. Of course there were my three young men who came in to supper every evening, and sometimes they stayed in the dining-room afterwards reading the paper. But I could not expect them to be interested in the little things that made my day. Why should they be? I was nothing to them. In fact, I overheard them one evening talking about me on the stairs as “the Scarecrow17)”. No matter. It doesn't matter. Not in the least. I quite understand. They are young. Why should I mind? But I remember feeling so especially thankful that I was not quite alone that evening. I told him, after they had gone. I said, “Do you know what they call Missus?” And he put his head on one side and looked at me with his little bright eye until I could not help laughing. It seemed to amuse him.

　　... Have you kept birds? If you haven't, all this must sound, perhaps, exaggerated. People have the idea that birds are heartless, cold little creatures, not like dogs or cats. My washerwoman used to say every Monday when she wondered why I didn't keep “a nice fox terrier”, “There's no comfort, Miss, in a canary.” Untrue! Dreadfully untrue! I remember one night. I had had a very awful dream — dreams can be terribly cruel — even after I had woken up I could not get over it. So I put on my dressing-gown and came down to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was a winter night and raining hard. I suppose I was half asleep still, but through the kitchen window that hadn't a blind, it seemed to me the dark was staring in, spying. And suddenly I felt it was unbearable that I had no one to whom I could say, “I've had such a dreadful dream,” or — “Hide me from the dark.” I even covered my face for a minute. And then there came a little“Sweet! Sweet!” His cage was on the table, and the cloth had slipped so that a chink18) of light shone through. “Sweet! Sweet!” said the darling little fellow again, softly, as much as to say, “I'm here, Missus. I'm here!” That was so beautifully comforting that I nearly cried. (world of warcraft gold)

　　... And now he's gone. I shall never have another bird, another pet of any kind. How could I? When I found him, lying on his back, with his eye dim and his claws wrung, when I realised that never again should I hear my darling sing, something seemed to die in me. My breast felt hollow, as if it was his cage. I shall get over it. Of course. I must. One can get over anything in time. And people always say I have a cheerful disposition. They are quite right. I thank God I have.

　　... All the same, without being morbid19), or giving way to — to memories and so on, I must confess that there does seem to me something sad in life. It is hard to say what it is. I don't mean the sorrow that we all know, like illness and poverty and death. No, it is something different. It is there, deep down, deep down, part of one, like one's breathing. However hard I work and tire myself I have only to stop to know it is there, waiting. I often wonder if everybody feels the same. One can never know. But isn't it extraordinary that under his sweet, joyful little singing it was just this — sadness? — Ah, what is it? — that I heard.

[Guest_Guest_*]

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[jan1213]

Mi Heng's Denouncement of Cao Cao
　　Mi Heng was recommended to Cao Cao when the latter， to expand his infLüence， needed someone to lobby Liu Biao. But Mi was slighted. Mi took his anger out on almost all of Cao Cao's subordinates. One day， at a banquet in honor of distinguished guests， Cao bid Mi to work as a drummer， just to insult him for fun.
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Mi came dressed in rag，replica sunglasses and when asked why he simply stripped off what was on him to proudly stand nude before the public. Guests shut their eyes in embarrassment. To rebut the angry blame by Cao Cao. Mi said. “You said I'm shameless? Not me but someone who has misled his majesty. Let people vies my clean conscience.” “If you're clean，” Cao roared， “Who's dirty?” “You!” Mi sneered.
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“Your eyes are dirty for being unable to tell good men from bad，aoc gold your mouth is dirty because you do not read， your ears are dirty because you refuse to listen to advice， you know nothing about history because of your dirty body， and you tolerate nobody because of the dirt in your belly.” Cao， infuriated， ordered him to the battle front， hoping the enemy's sword would kill him.
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Liu Bei Returns to Jingzhou
　　This is story from Three Kingdoms.age of conan power leveling Tricked by Zhou Yu， Liu Bei married Sun Shangxiang， Sun Quan's younger sister. After the wedding ceremony， Liu Bei stayed in the state of Wu. In light of Zhuge Liang's plan， Zhao Yun made a false report to Liu Bei before his departure， saying that Cao Cao was attacking Jingzhou. He urged Liu Bei to go back. Believing it was true， Liu Bei discussed the matter with his wife and decided that they would pretend to offer sacrifice to the ancestors at the river and would leave the Southland under the escort of Zhao Yun without announcing it.
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The day came and Liu Bei and his wife headed to the river.aion gold Suddenly， generals and soldiers sent by Zhou Yuarrived. Liu Bei was frightened. He rushed to the front of Lady Sun's carriage and appealed tearfully to her： “When your elder brother and Zhou Yu conspired to call me to the Southland to marry you， they did not do so for your sake.
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All they wanted was to confine me so that they could retake Jingzhou，maple story mesos and after that to kill me. But I came， because I admire you. Today， no one but you can save me. If you are not willing， I prefer to die here before your eyes.” Upon hearing this， Lady Sun rolled up the front curtain of her carriage， and shouted to the generals from the state of Wu： “Are you in revolt? Zhou Yu! The renegade， the traitor!” she cried. “What injury has the Sun family ever done you? Liu Bei is my husband. Both my mother and my brother were informed that I would return to Jingzhou. Does this blockage maean you're going to plunder our goods?” She denounced Zhou Yu loudly and then ordered her carrige moved forward.
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The carriage had hardly advanced five or six li when the second pair of commanders sent by Sun Quan arrived.dog clothes Lady Sun let Liu Bei proceed. She herself and Zhao Yun held the rear. Lady Sun regarded the two commanders sternly and spoke reproachfully： “You have come between my brother and me. My mother has sanctioned our trip back to Jingzhou. Even my brother has to conform to what ritual enjoins. Do these weapons mean you want to murder me?” The commanders stared at one another helplessly. Though Liu Bei was nowhere to be seen， Zhao Yun waw right there， ready for bloody combat， eyes angry and wide-staring. At last， the generals had to withdraw. Later when another two generals arrived with Sun Quan's sword， Liu Bei and Lady Sun were already on one of the boats led by Zhuge Liang， heading for Jingzhou. Later the people said： Trapped a second time in his own tricks， Zhou Yu tasted humiliation added to rage.

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