I was a mineral prospector in Chengdu, who transmigrated into the body of a mortal sword immortal.

Li Bai's figure rose and fell several times in the alleys far from the Prince Shou's residence, finally landing in a long-abandoned courtyard. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, the houses dilapidated, with only one barely intact wing room—his temporary lodging, secretly arranged a few days earlier. He slipped inside, closed the door behind him, and slid down to sit against the cold, rough wooden door. In the darkness, he could no longer suppress his emotions; his body began to tremble uncontrollably, his hands clenched tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms, bringing a sharp pain, but doing nothing to alleviate the torment in his heart, as if being repeatedly cut by a dull knife. Outside the window, the night in Chang'an remained deep, the first faint crowing of a rooster in the distance signaling the end of the long night, while his war had only just begun.

He sat motionless on the cold ground, leaning against the door.

In the darkness, only his heavy, suppressed breathing and the rapid, heavy throbbing of the golden core in his chest could be heard. The golden core spun wildly within his dantian, each rotation unleashing a torrent of spiritual energy that seemed about to burst forth. The illusory azure lotus imprinted on the surface of the golden core trembled violently, its petals edged with a nearly tangible, incomparably sharp azure sword light. This sword light emanated from his body, forming an invisible, sharp aura around him, silently slicing the scattered dust and withered grass on the ground into even finer powder.

power.

The power of a sword immortal, enough to cleave mountains and rivers and split the night sky, was surging and roaring within him, like a raging dragon imprisoned, frantically crashing against the cage of reason.

"Take her away..."

A voice roared from the depths of his soul, carrying the excruciating pain of being stabbed in the chest in his past life, the helplessness of witnessing the sorrow in Yang Xiaohuan's eyes, and the pity and anger that almost tore his heart apart when he saw Yang Yuhuan sitting alone, weeping, and whispering to herself in front of the mirror.

"Go back now! What Prince Shou's Mansion, what Imperial Guards, what bullshit formations! Slash through that embroidered tower with one sword and take her away from this golden cage! You are a Golden Core Sword Immortal! You have the Azure Lotus Sword! You have the Shu Mountain inheritance! Who can stop you? Who dares to stop you?!"

The thought was so strong, so tempting, that it almost became a tangible impulse, driving his body to spring up immediately and return to the royal palace.

His fingers unconsciously flexed and extended, as if he had already grasped the Azure Lotus Sword hidden in the storage artifact, a sword bound to his very being. The icy touch of the hilt seemed to travel through space, and the blade hummed, yearning to drink blood, yearning to sever all shackles and injustices.

"Killing one man in ten steps, leaving no trace for a thousand miles..."

He recited the poem in a low voice, hoarse and filled with murderous intent. The spiritual power of the Golden Core stage surged with the poem, and the air in the room suddenly became sharp. A tattered spider web in the corner silently snapped, and fine spider silk drifted down.

It can be done.

He really can do it.

With his current cultivation at the early stage of the Golden Core realm, combined with the Azure Lotus Sword and the Shu Mountain Red Dust Sword Technique, it wouldn't be impossible for him to unexpectedly break through the guards of the Prince of Shou's mansion and take away the unsuspecting Yang Yuhuan. Those Foundation Establishment stage guards and that layer of warning formations are like paper in front of a true Golden Core sword immortal.

and then?

This thought was like ice water poured on the boiling fire of anger.

Then, what about the furious pursuit of the entire Tang Empire? What about the inevitable, relentless retaliation after the royal dignity was trampled upon? What about the eternal infamy in history books, where "the sorcerer Li Bai abducted a princess and wreaked havoc on the court"?

More importantly—what would Yang Yuhuan herself think?

In the darkness, Li Bai closed his eyes.

This wasn't the kind of closed-eye gesture I'd made in the Prince's mansion to conceal myself; it was a genuine, weary, and painful closure of my eyes.

The scene inside the embroidered pavilion appeared even more clearly before my eyes.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating the contours of her profile—so beautiful, so fragile. She held that ordinary jade hairpin, her fingertips gently caressing it, her eyes filled with sorrow, reminiscence, and confusion… But upon careful reflection, Li Bai realized that deep within those eyes, there seemed to be no utter despair or death.

She's still adjusting.

She was still struggling.

She may still feel confused and helpless about this sudden, arranged fate, but she has not completely given up hope, nor has she given up entirely. The fact that she kept that hairpin is proof of that.

If I were to force my way in right now and abduct her by violence, what would that mean for her?

This means leaping from a predetermined fate into a more intense, unpredictable, and potentially more dangerous vortex. It means she will instantly transform from the esteemed Princess Consort of Shou into an accomplice of a wanted criminal, a "woman of infidelity" condemned by the entire nation. It means she will lose all her current protection (even if it's false), forced to flee with him to the ends of the earth, constantly facing endless pursuit and living in constant fear.

Am I capable of protecting her?

Perhaps in the short term. But facing the power of the entire nation, facing the imperial court's retainers who might be even more powerful than the official divine consciousness master from before, and even facing those reclusive old monsters... is his newly formed golden core really enough to withstand it?

In the secret realm of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom in Shu, the high priest, whose face was shrouded in starlight, admonished him in an ethereal yet solemn voice when bestowing upon him the inheritance:

"Power is both a tool and a shackle. Used for good, it protects all living beings; used for evil, it brings chaos to oneself. When the Golden Core is first formed, inner demons are at their strongest. Remember, when pointing the sword, ask yourself what is right in your heart, and weigh the pros and cons. A common man's anger may only result in bloodshed within five steps; a cultivator's anger may bring disaster to innocent people within a hundred miles. Your path is still long; do not let momentary passion blind your all-seeing eyes."

At the time, he was immersed in the joy of gaining power and did not fully heed the warning. Now, however, these words struck him like hammer blows, pounding on his reason, which was almost burned away by anger.

And Du Fu.

The man who patted him on the shoulder in the tavern of Chengdu said with a mixture of envy and worry, "Brother Taibai, you are exceptionally talented and ambitious, which is a good thing. But Chang'an is not like Shu. It is the central hub of the country, where rules are paramount and people's hearts are as deep as the sea. Some things and some people cannot be forced, nor can they be acted upon impulsively. Think things through carefully, preserve your life, and you will have a future to plan for."

At the time, he took it as a mature and prudent remark and laughed it off. Now, thinking back, Du Fu may have already vaguely sensed the unusual feelings between him and Lady Yang, which is why he spoke up to remind her.

The rage of a common man... the rage of a monk...

Li Bai slowly loosened his clenched fist, leaving four deep, bleeding crescent-shaped marks on his palm. The pain made him even more alert.

He slowly adjusted his breathing, trying to calm the raging spiritual energy within his body. The speed at which the golden core spun began to slow, the illusory blue lotus on its surface gradually stabilized, and the sharp sword intent emanating from his body was gradually withdrawn.

But this process is extremely difficult.

Each attempt to restrain himself felt like wrestling with a savage beast. The emotional turmoil hadn't lessened in the slightest—just the thought that Yang Yuhuan might still be sitting alone by the lamp, silently weeping, almost caused the violent urge to destroy everything to break down the newly erected dam of reason once more.

He had to spare some of his attention and force himself to think and analyze from a different perspective, just like when he was assessing risks for geological exploration projects in his previous life, calmly listing the pros and cons.

The "benefits" of forcibly taking away Yang Yuhuan:

The only and direct "benefit" is satisfying my immediate desire to protect her and take her away from that environment. To possess her briefly.

The drawbacks of forcibly taking Yang Yuhuan away:

First, she was placed in a more dangerous situation, thrown from the relatively safe prison of the royal palace into the eye of a global manhunt.

Second, thoroughly enrage the royal family and the court, become an enemy of the empire, and lose all possibility of operating openly.

Third, it could trigger unpredictable political turmoil. The abduction of Princess Shou is a major provocation to the dignity of the royal family, which may prompt the already sensitive imperial power to take more drastic measures to consolidate its rule, implicating innocent people.

Fourth, revealing one's strength as a Golden Core Sword Immortal and the secrets of the Shu Mountain lineage will attract more and stronger covetousness and hostility.

Fifth, it eliminated all possibilities of changing her fate in other, gentler, and more covert ways.

Sixth, having just achieved the Golden Core stage and with an unstable realm, my inner demons have already manifested. If I rashly engage in such a fierce confrontation, my Dao heart will be easily damaged, and I may even suffer a cultivation deviation.

7. That official divine sense… capable of dispatching experts at least at the late Foundation Establishment stage or even the Golden Core level to monitor the Prince of Shou's residence for an extended period, the court's "attention" to Yang Yuhuan likely far exceeds that of an ordinary princess. Is there a deeper political motive or secret behind this? If I were to take action, would I inadvertently fall into some kind of trap?

Eighth, and most importantly—was this really what Yang Yuhuan wanted? Was her so-called "salvation" just another form of "coercion"?

One by one, the "disadvantages" clearly surfaced in my mind, cold and realistic, weighing down the only, burning "advantage."

Reason told him that forcibly taking him away was the most foolish, irresponsible, and unbearable choice.

But his emotions were still screaming wildly: Was he just going to watch her wither away in that cage? Watch her walk step by step toward that known, tragic end in history? Had he been reborn, gained this power, only to experience the pain of helplessness once more?!

Two voices clashed fiercely in his mind, like two armies fighting each other, leaving corpses strewn across the battlefield.

Time passes little by little.

The sky outside the window gradually changed from the deepest inky black to a hint of indigo, and then to a pale dawn. In the distance, the sounds of activity from the neighborhoods began to increase; the faint sounds of carriages, vendors' cries, and doors opening could be heard. A new day was dawning, and Chang'an was awakening.

Li Bai remained seated on the cold ground, leaning against the door, like a frozen statue.

Only his slightly heaving chest and the violently shifting light in his eyes, sometimes as fiery as lava and sometimes as cold as a frozen pool, revealed the fierce battle raging within him.

When the first true ray of dawn struggled to squeeze through the cracks in the dilapidated windowpane, casting a narrow patch of light on the dusty ground, Li Bai finally moved.

He raised his head very slowly, as if using all his strength.

His face was expressionless, devoid of anger, sadness, resentment, or even weariness. There was only an almost ethereal calm, and beneath that calm lay something as hard as iron and as cold as ice.

He leaned against the door and slowly stood up.

His bones crackled slightly, a result of the stiffness from maintaining one posture for so long. He moved his neck and wrists, the movements a little sluggish at first, but quickly regained their fluidity.

He walked to the only dusty wooden table in the center of the room, stretched out his finger, and slowly ran it across the thick layer of dust.

As his fingertips brushed away the dust, revealing the dark wood beneath. He drew slowly and forcefully, as if he were carving rather than writing.

Four words gradually appeared:

**Plan before you act**

After writing those four characters, he stared at them for a moment, then raised his hand, his sleeve gently brushing across the table.

All the writing, along with the thick layer of dust, was swept to the ground.

Dust danced in the morning light, just like the intense but useless emotions in his heart, which would eventually settle.

Yes, plan carefully before you act.

Forcibly taking her away would be the worst possible strategy, a recipe for disaster, and utterly irresponsible towards Yu Huan.

But this does not mean giving up, and it does not mean backing down!

It just requires a different approach.

A smarter, more discreet, more effective, and more... in line with his current identity and capabilities.

He needed to re-enter life in Chang'an, not as an intruder, but as a participant. He needed a legitimate, even dazzling, presence in the sunlight to conceal his clandestine actions and objectives. He needed to get close to the center of power, understand the situation, and seek opportunities to pry open the seemingly unbreakable gears of fate without shaking the very foundations of the world.

What identity would be more fitting than "Poet Immortal Li Bai"?

This identity was "rightfully his." It brought him immense fame and attention, serving as excellent camouflage. This identity allowed him legitimate access to high-ranking officials, scholars, and even… the imperial court.

In the past, he may have simply been passively enjoying the fleeting glamour that came with his poetic fame.

Now, he needs to use this identity proactively and purposefully.

Moreover, it will be more dazzling, more unruly, and more unpredictable than ever before!

He wanted to make the name "Li Bai" resound throughout Chang'an again, in an unprecedented way. He wanted everyone to know that Li Bai had returned, and had become different—more wild, more arrogant, more mysterious, and even... vaguely revealing extraordinary martial prowess.

In this way, when he appears in certain places, pays attention to certain things, or even secretly does some small things in this capacity, it won't seem abrupt. People will simply say: "Look, that's Li Bai, arrogant and eccentric, nothing surprising."

But only he himself knew his true purpose.

He intended to use this identity as a cover to secretly weave a web of schemes. He would observe the movements of the Prince of Shou's residence, understand the court's attitude towards Yang Yuhuan, monitor the forces behind the official divine consciousness, and seek any opportunity that might change Yang Yuhuan's situation without causing major upheaval.

Perhaps the opportunity lies with Prince Shou, Li Mao?

Perhaps the opportunity lies in personnel changes within the court?

Perhaps the opportunity lies in some upcoming event that can be exploited?

he does not know.

But he had a direction and a strategy.

This is far more powerful than mere anger and impulse.

Li Bai walked to the window and pushed open the creaking, dilapidated wooden window.

The cool morning air rushed in, dispelling the oppressive atmosphere that had settled in the room overnight. In the distance, the outline of Chang'an gradually became clear in the morning light, and the sounds of people rising from the market streets and the wisps of smoke curling from chimneys marked the beginning of a new day for this vast imperial capital.

Bustling, noisy, and unfathomable.

Li Bai took a deep breath of the crisp, cool air, feeling the spiritual energy flowing smoothly through his body, his golden core stabilizing, and his green lotus remaining calm.

The anger hadn't disappeared; it had merely been compressed and condensed, sinking to the deepest recesses of the heart, transforming into the cold fuel that drove all actions. Pity and resentment remained etched in the heart, but no longer wandered aimlessly like headless flies; instead, they had clear targets and circuitous paths.

He glanced in the general direction of the Prince Shou's residence, his eyes calm and unwavering.

Then, he turned around and began to pack up the few personal belongings he had in this temporary lodging—a few changes of clothes, some loose silver coins, and the Qinglian sword, which was wrapped in coarse cloth and resembled an ordinary longsword.

The movements were unhurried and methodical.

Once everything was packed, he slung the package over his shoulder, pushed open the door, and stepped into the desolate courtyard bathed in the morning light.

The dew on the weeds dampened his shoes and trouser legs, bringing a cool touch. Several early-rising sparrows hopped and chirped among the ruins, their voices clear and melodious.

He walked to the gate of the courtyard, stopped, and took one last look back at the abandoned courtyard where he had spent a sleepless night.

Then, he stepped out, his figure merging into the growing crowds of Chang'an City in the early morning.

He wore a simple blue robe, with a long sword (the wrapped Azure Lotus Sword) hanging at his waist. His steps were steady, and his eyes, though calm, carried a strange brilliance that had been tempered by fire and frozen by ice.

He was no longer the intruder who had been overwhelmed by emotions and nearly lost control last night.

He is Li Bai.

He was the poet who had regained his reason and strategy, preparing to stir up the winds of change in Chang'an in a new way.

It is also like a weapon lying dormant, its claws concealed, ready to unleash a fatal blow at the most crucial moment.

Red Dust Sword Immortal.