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

After Duan Qiniang left, Li Bai was left alone in the room.

The candlelight flickered on the table, casting his long shadow on the wall, swaying slightly. He didn't move, just stood there by the window, gazing at the night view of Chang'an outside. That dazzling river of lights, at this moment, seemed to him like a giant net slowly tightening, and at the center of the net was the direction of the Yichun Academy.

Ten days.

He slowly clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white from the force. A slight stinging sensation came from his palm—the Azure Lotus Sword Intent sensed the intense fluctuations in his emotions and spontaneously began to circulate. He released his grip and looked down at the pale blue halo in his palm. Within the halo, lotus patterns slowly rotated, serene, aloof, and transcendent.

But in his heart, there was a boiling obsession and resentment.

The bamboo leaves rustled outside the window, the sound exceptionally clear in the quiet night. The sound of the night watchman's drum drifted from afar; it was the third watch of the night.

Li Bai turned around and blew out the candle.

The room was plunged into darkness.

He sat down in the darkness and closed his eyes.

That night, he needed to think things through.

***

The darkness is not true darkness.

His Foundation Establishment cultivation level gave him a level of five senses far beyond that of ordinary people. Even with his eyes closed, he could "see" every item in the room—the grain of the wooden bed, the scratches on the table, the subtle differences in the glaze on the celadon vase, and the arc of the bamboo leaves swaying in the night breeze.

But what he "saw" was far more than that.

Memories flooded back like a tide.

Chengdu, 2003. A cold dagger pierced his chest; the excruciating pain remains etched deep within his soul. He collapsed to the ground, his vision blurred, the last thing he saw being Yang Xiaohuan's eyes—eyes that seemed heartless, yet held a deep well of sorrow and helplessness.

Even if you were truly the great Tang Dynasty poet, I still wouldn't like you!

That sentence was like a knife, sharper than a dagger.

Then came the Tang Dynasty.

A red silk curtain, a soft and fragrant body, Duan Qiniang's coquettish voice: "You're so naughty! I'm your Qiniang!" The bewilderment and shock of that moment seem like it was just yesterday.

In the spring of Chengdu, peach blossoms were in full bloom. Fifteen-year-old Yang Yuhuan stood beneath a flowering tree, dressed in a light pink ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), her features exquisitely beautiful. She turned to look at him, her eyes clear, filled with the shyness and curiosity unique to young girls. In that instant, he forgot all the hatred and pain of his past life, forgot his identity as a modern engineer, and even forgot that he was Li Bai.

He was just a man who saw a woman who captivated him.

At that moment, historical knowledge became the cruelest curse.

He knew she would enter the palace, become a concubine, and perish at Mawei Slope. He knew that his current infatuation was destined to be a tragedy.

But he was still tempted.

Like moths drawn to a flame.

Li Bai opened his eyes in the darkness.

The room remained dark, but his eyes glowed with a faint blue light in the darkness—an uncontrollable manifestation of the Azure Lotus Sword Intent. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his heart.

I got up and pushed open the door.

A night breeze swept across my face, carrying the unique coolness of an autumn night in Chang'an. The courtyard was quiet, with only the rustling of bamboo leaves and the faint chirping of insects in the distance. The air was filled with the scent of earth and plants, and a faint fragrance of osmanthus blossoms—several osmanthus trees were planted in the front courtyard of Zuiyue Tower, and they were in full bloom at this moment.

He walked to the center of the courtyard and looked up.

The night sky over Chang'an was tinged with a reddish hue by the lights, obscuring the Milky Way, with only a few of the brightest stars stubbornly twinkling. Those starlight had traveled billions of light-years to reach this place, witnessing countless dynasties rise and fall, and countless loves and hates.

He was but a speck of dust in this long history.

No.

Li Bai clenched his fist.

He is not dust.

He is Li Bai. He is the Poet Immortal, the Sword Immortal, a transmigrator with memories of two lifetimes and knowledge of the course of history. He wields the Azure Lotus Sword Intent and carries the legacy of Mount Shu. He... has the power to change things.

At least, that's what he once thought.

Within his dantian, the third-grade azure lotus slowly rotated. True essence flowed through his meridians, warm and abundant. His Foundation Establishment stage cultivation was already extraordinary in this era. If unleashed at full power, the azure lotus sword intent could cleave through metal, its sword energy spanning ten zhang. If he were to infiltrate the palace, he was seventy percent certain he would find Yang Yuhuan before the Imperial Guards could react.

and then?

Take her away.

To flee for one's life.

With his Foundation Establishment cultivation and the Azure Lotus Sword Intent, where in the world couldn't he go? From the misty rain of Jiangnan to the snowy winds of the North, from the immortal islands of the East Sea to the desolate deserts of the West. He could take her far away from Chang'an, far away from the palace, far away from that damned fate.

Once this idea takes hold, it grows wildly like weeds.

Li Bai closed his eyes, and images appeared in his mind—

In the darkness of the palace, he swept across the walls like a ghost, his sword flashing, unlocking the gate and opening it. Yang Yuhuan awoke with a start, seeing him standing before her bed. Her eyes first widened in terror, then in disbelief, and finally… what could it be?

Joy? Emotion? Or fear?

"Come with me," he would say.

Will she nod?

Li Bai didn't know.

He recalled the high priest's words: "The tribulation of the mortal world is within the mortal world. Your attachment is too deep. If you cannot overcome this tribulation, your foundation for cultivation will surely be destroyed."

Obsession.

Yes, he admits he has an obsession.

Guilt for Yang Xiaohuan and attraction to Yang Yuhuan intertwined across two lifetimes, becoming his deepest obsession. He wanted to save her, protect her, and spare her from the tragedy of history.

But is this love?

Or... is it just possessiveness?

Is it just that I'm unwilling to accept it?

Li Bai paced back and forth in the courtyard. The cool bluestone slabs carried the sound through the thin soles of his cloth shoes. His footsteps were exceptionally clear in the silent night, each one like a tapping on his heart.

He thought of his modern self.

That bespectacled, somewhat timid geological engineer. If Yang Xiaohuan hadn't been forced to say those heartless words, if she hadn't fallen into that predicament, would they have continued living a peaceful and happy life?

Will do.

He believes it will.

What about Yang Yuhuan?

If she had truly entered the palace, become a Noble Consort, and enjoyed all the riches and honors, spending her life under Emperor Xuanzong's favor—even if the ending was the tragedy of Mawei Slope—at least before the tragedy, she would have been noble, favored, and the envy of all women in the world.

What does it mean to go on the run with him?

It meant giving up all wealth and status, abandoning her family, abandoning her stability, and beginning a life of wandering and living in anonymity. Was she, a fifteen-year-old girl, truly willing? Even if she was, could she bear it?

more importantly……

Li Bai stopped in his tracks.

He raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the night sky, looking towards a more distant place.

The An Lushan Rebellion.

That was the turning point from the Tang Dynasty's prosperity to its decline, a catastrophe that displaced millions of people. Historical records state that in the fourteenth year of the Tianbao era, An Lushan launched his rebellion, and the flames of war spread throughout the Central Plains. Chang'an fell, Emperor Xuanzong fled west, the Mawei Slope Mutiny occurred, and Yang Guifei hanged herself.

What would happen if he forcibly took Yang Yuhuan away at this moment?

Emperor Xuanzong was furious.

The imperial court will certainly do everything in its power to capture him.

How will the border governors react? Will An Lushan use this as an excuse to launch a rebellion ahead of schedule? Will officials like Li Linfu and Yang Guozhong in the court take this opportunity to eliminate dissidents and exacerbate corruption in the government?

Will the world fall into turmoil prematurely as a result?

Will millions of ordinary people suffer the ravages of war because of his selfishness?

Li Bai felt a sense of suffocation.

He recalled the ancient battlefields he had visited during modern geological expeditions. Beneath the loess, countless bones lay scattered. The understated descriptions in history books of "tens of thousands dead" and "nine out of ten houses empty" concealed countless broken families and silent weeping.

He is a modern man.

He was educated in modern ways, knew the weight of life, and understood the value of peace. He could risk his life for the one he loved, and defy imperial power for her, but... could he plunge the world into war for her sake?

No.

Li Bai closed his eyes.

A night breeze carried the faint sound of a distant bell—the night bell of some temple. The long, deep sound echoed in the night sky, seemingly able to cleanse the mind of all distractions.

He recalled the high priest's last words to him in the secret realm of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom.

"The way of the sword immortal is not for killing, but for protecting. Protecting what you love, protecting what you believe in, protecting the path in your heart. Your sword should be wielded for protection."

guard.

It's not about possession.

If he truly loved Yang Yuhuan, then what was it that he should protect?

Is it her freedom? Or her happiness? Or perhaps... her life?

If entering the palace was an inescapable fate for her, then what he could do was not to forcibly change her fate, but to hold up an umbrella for her within that fate.

Offer her comfort when she is lonely.

Protect her when she is in danger.

Be her most secret support when she needs it.

Then...wait for the right opportunity.

He awaited the An Lushan Rebellion, awaited Mawei Slope, awaited that historical turning point. Then, he would intervene and save her from dire straits. Before that, he needed to accumulate power, improve his cultivation, build connections within the court and among the people, and become a force capable of influencing the course of events.

It's hard.

It's harder than just taking her away.

This meant he had to watch helplessly as she entered the palace, became another man's concubine, and spent every day with Emperor Xuanzong. It meant he had to endure excruciating pain and spend countless nights alone grappling with bitterness.

But this is... the right choice.

Li Bai opened his eyes.

The bluish halo in his eyes had subsided, replaced by a profound tranquility. That tranquility was not numbness, but a clarity that came after struggle, a decisiveness born from seeing the path ahead.

He looked up at the night sky.

The eastern sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn. The night was about to end, and dawn was approaching. One by one, the lights in Chang'an began to go out, and the early-rising watchmen struck the fifth watch gong.

A new day begins.

And it's time for him to take action.

***

Back in his room, Li Bai lit a candle.

The dim candlelight illuminated the room. He walked to the bedside and took out the broken Qingming sword from the depths of his baggage. The broken sword was about two feet long, its blade covered in rust, but the patterns on the hilt were still clear—the cloud patterns unique to Mount Shu.

He placed the broken sword on the table.

Then, loosely clench your right hand.

The azure lotus within his dantian slowly rotated, and a wisp of azure sword energy emanated from his palm, condensing into a phantom sword shadow in the air. The sword shadow was about three feet long, entirely azure, with lotus patterns flowing across its surface, exuding a cool yet sharp aura.

Azure Lotus Sword Intent.

This is his strongest asset at present.

But it is also the biggest hidden danger.

In a place like Chang'an, using sword intent would inevitably attract attention. There might be cultivators within the palace; both Taoism and Buddhism had roots in Chang'an. He had to conceal his sword intent even more deeply.

Li Bai closed his eyes and began to circulate the Azure Lotus Sword Technique.

The sword shadow in his palm began to shrink, from three feet to two feet, then to one foot, finally transforming into a point of azure light that disappeared into his palm. Beneath his skin, a faint azure halo could be seen flowing, but it was completely imperceptible unless one looked closely.

He compressed his sword intent to its extreme and hid it within his meridians.

Then, he picked up the Azure Sword.

The broken sword was heavy and icy cold to the touch. He ran his fingers over the rust on the blade and could feel the faint sword intent that remained within it—a mark left by a senior from Mount Shu hundreds of years ago.

"Senior," Li Bai said softly, "from this day forward, you will be my sword in Chang'an. Though broken, your edge remains sharp."

He carefully wrapped the broken sword in strips of cloth and stuffed it into the bottom of his bag. He then covered it with clothing to conceal its shape.

After finishing those tasks, he began packing up the rest of his things.

A few changes of clothes, the silver given by Duan Qiniang, the remaining two Rejuvenation Pills, and a copy of Yang Yuhuan's poem—he kept the copy close to his body, the touch of the paper wafting through his clothes, carrying a slight warmth.

Finally, he picked up the pen on the table.

The pen was an ordinary bamboo pen, the wolf hair at the tip already somewhat worn. He dipped it in the remaining ink in the inkstone and wrote a few lines on a blank sheet of paper:

"Deeply troubled by worldly tribulations, I dare not forget the common people. My sword remains sheathed, but my heart turns to the bright moon. When the winds of change blow, the lotus will bloom again."

After writing, he folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket.

This is not for anyone to see.

It's a vow I make to myself.

***

Its daybreak.

Morning light streamed through the paper windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor. In the distance came the hustle and bustle of the city—the cries of vendors at the morning market, the rumble of carts and horses, and the cacophony of conversations among pedestrians.

Chang'an woke up.

Li Bai pushed open the door.

In the courtyard, dewdrops clung to the bamboo leaves, glistening in the morning light. The air was fresh, carrying the scent of morning dew and earth. A sparrow landed on a bamboo branch, tilted its head to look at him, and then fluttered away.

He walked into the courtyard and took a deep breath.

The cool air penetrated my lungs, making my mind clearer.

He turned around and took one last look at the small courtyard where he had stayed for two nights. Bamboo groves, bluestone slabs, window grilles, door. It was quiet and safe here, a haven that Duan Qiniang had prepared for him.

But he can't hide here forever.

It's time to go.

Li Bai shouldered his bag and pushed open the courtyard gate.

The back alley of Zuiyue Tower was quiet, with traces of night dew still remaining on the bluestone pavement. He walked along the alley, his footsteps echoing in the morning stillness.

He stopped when he reached the alley entrance.

Turn around and look in the direction of the Yichun Academy building.

Separated by layers of buildings, he couldn't see the courtyard where Yang Yuhuan was imprisoned. But he could sense it—not with his eyes, not with his ears, but with some more mysterious intuition. His Foundation Establishment cultivation, coupled with the faint causal connection between the Azure Lotus Sword Intent and Yang Yuhuan, allowed him to vaguely perceive the aura emanating from that direction.

She was there.

Still alive, still breathing, still awaiting an unknown fate.

Li Bai closed his eyes.

The image of that face flashed into his mind—Fifteen-year-old Yang Yuhuan, looking back at him under the peach blossom tree, her features exquisite, her smile gentle. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his two lifetimes.

"Wait for me," he said in his heart. "No matter how long it takes, no matter how difficult it is, I will wait for you. I will become stronger, strong enough to fight against fate, strong enough to protect you when the storm comes."

Then he turned around.

They walked towards He Zhizhang's residence.

Their steps were firm, without hesitation.

The morning light shone on his blue robe, gilding it with a golden edge. His shadow stretched long on the streets of Chang'an in the early morning, lonely yet upright.

He knew that the real challenge was just beginning.

***

at the same time.

Deep within the Shu Mountains lies the secret realm of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom.

Within the Sword Pool, the water was crystal clear, and the bottom was covered with various colored spirit stones, radiating a soft glow. In the center of the pool, a long sword floated silently.

The sword is three feet and three inches long, its entire body a jade-green hue, with naturally occurring lotus patterns on its blade, extending from the hilt to the tip. Within these patterns, a faint blue halo flows, as if they were alive.

This is the true form of the Azure Lotus Sword.

What Li Bai obtained in the secret realm was merely a projection of its sword intent. The true form remained dormant in the sword pool, awaiting its true master's complete awakening.

At that moment, the sword suddenly trembled slightly.

Ripples spread across the pool, expanding in concentric circles. The lotus patterns on the sword lit up, and the azure light flowed faster, as if sensing something.

In the far north, in the city of Chang'an.

The young man whose sword intent was connected to it had just made an important decision. In that decision, there was pain, struggle, abandonment, but also a deeper commitment.

It was this perseverance that touched the Azure Lotus Sword.

Swords are born to protect.

When the swordsman has a protective instinct, the sword can sense it and resonate with it.

The trembling of the Azure Lotus Sword lasted for several breaths before slowly subsiding. The azure light on the sword was even brighter than before, and the lotus patterns flowed more dynamically, as if infused with new life.

The pool water returned to calm.

But the sword is different now.

It waits, waiting for the day when the swordsman truly needs it. At that time, it will break through the water, travel thousands of miles, and reach its master's hands.

And that day is not far off.