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

Chapter 67 Dark Room Interrogation

Two more days passed.

The darkness at the bottom of the prison was like solidified ink, staining even time itself the same color. Li Bai could no longer distinguish between day and night, and could only estimate the passage of time by the number of times the jailers brought him food—this was the third time.

His injuries are slowly healing.

The pale golden light of the Xiling Jade Talisman continuously seeped into the meridians from the wrist, like countless warm streams, struggling to flow under the suppression of the shackle runes, gradually repairing the damaged organs and bones. The pain was still there, but it had changed from a tearing, excruciating pain to a dull ache and numbness.

More importantly, he is becoming more accustomed to the shackles.

The secret message the Imperial Preceptor received through the eunuch that day—"Wait patiently and do not act rashly. His Majesty already knows the secret of the Azure Lotus"—took root and sprouted in his heart like a seed. He did not act rashly, but began to observe the shackles, the prison cell, and everything in the darkness more closely.

The eerie blue runes on the shackles would emit an extremely faint glow in absolute darkness.

Li Bai discovered that the runes were not evenly distributed. The runes were densest and brightest on his wrists, followed by those on his ankles; while on the chain connecting his wrists and ankles, the runes were relatively sparse and the light was the dimmest. Especially in the middle section of the chain, near the sides of his body, the runes were even slightly misaligned in several places—like flaws left during forging, or perhaps…deliberately left flaws?

He tried to concentrate the Azure Lotus Sword Intent at his fingertips.

It's not true essence, but pure sword intent—the kind of understanding and obsession with the "sword" born from the depths of the soul and from the fusion of memories from two lifetimes.

The sword intent was very weak, like a candle flickering in the wind.

However, despite the suppression of the shackle runes, it did not completely extinguish.

Li Bai guided this wisp of sword intent, letting it flow slowly along the meridians, avoiding the areas where the runes shone brightest, and probing towards the misaligned areas of the runes in the middle of the chain.

The moment the sword intent touched the rune, the dark blue light rippled slightly.

It's like a pebble being thrown into the water.

Immediately afterward, an even stronger suppressive force surged from the depths of the shackles, forcefully forcing the sword intent back into his body. Li Bai groaned, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

But in that instant, he "saw" it.

Through his perception of sword intent, he "saw" the internal structure of the shackles—they weren't simple iron chains, but a sophisticated, nested array of runes. The core of the array was within the shackles themselves at the wrists, with the runes on the chains merely extending and transmitting energy. And those misaligned spots were indeed weak points, the "nodes" and "turning points" where the array's energy flowed.

If enough force could be applied simultaneously at these nodes...

Perhaps this could temporarily disrupt the array's operation.

Even if it's just for a moment.

Li Bai withdrew his sword intent and leaned against the stone wall, panting.

This discovery ignited a glimmer of hope within him, but it also made him more vigilant—if the Grand Tutor could design such shackles, he must also know their weaknesses. So, were these "weak points" genuine flaws, or... deliberately left traps?

He dared not try it lightly.

Waiting for the "opportune moment" mentioned by the Grand Preceptor.

Awaiting interrogation by that unknown "His Majesty".

Waiting... for fate to take its next step.

---

late at night.

About two hours passed after the third meal delivery.

Footsteps echoed from the depths of the corridor.

It wasn't the sound of one person's footsteps, but three—one heavy, two light. The footsteps stopped in the corridor outside Li Bai's prison cell, followed by the sound of a key being inserted into a lock, and the harsh scraping sound of iron bars being pulled open.

The torchlight illuminated the cell.

Two jailers dressed in black, their faces covered with black cloths, entered. Without saying a word, they moved with practiced speed and skill, grabbing Li Bai's arms from either side and dragging him up from the ground.

Li Bai did not resist.

Although his injuries had healed somewhat, he was far from being able to fight off these clearly well-trained prison guards. Moreover, the shackles were still on, and his spiritual power was still sealed.

The jailer put a thick black blindfold on him.

The blindfold was made of rough fabric, smelling musty and sweaty, and clung tightly to my face, blocking out all light. The world instantly plunged into absolute darkness, leaving only hearing and touch.

He was helped out of the cell.

The corridor was long and winding. Li Bai silently memorized the directions—three left turns, two right turns, descending about twenty steps, and then a long, straight walk. The air temperature changed, gradually becoming drier from the damp, cold depths of the cell, and he could even smell a faint sandalwood scent.

Footsteps echoed on the stone slabs.

Occasionally, the sound of iron doors closing in other cells or suppressed groans could be heard in the distance. But most of the time, only the footsteps of the three of them stood out clearly in the silence.

We walked for about fifteen minutes.

The jailer stopped.

Li Bai heard the sound of a door being pushed open—not an iron gate, but a heavy wooden door that creaked as it was pushed open. He was led inside, and the door behind him was closed, cutting off all outside sounds.

The sandalwood scent in the air was even stronger.

It also has another flavor—the slightly sweet, oily smell that comes with burning candles.

He was forced into a chair.

The chair was made of hardwood, had no backrest, and felt cold and hard to sit on. The shackles on my wrists and ankles were fastened to the armrests and legs of the chair, making a "click" sound as they were fastened.

Then, the blindfold was removed.

The sudden light made Li Bai squint.

It took him a moment to adjust before he could see the scene before him clearly.

This is a small interrogation room.

The walls were made of bluestone, but polished much smoother than those of the prison cell. The gaps between the stones were filled with white mortar, giving it a clean and solemn appearance. The room had no windows; the only exit was the heavy wooden door behind it. Several iron chains hung from the ceiling, supporting three bronze candlesticks, each holding three thick white candles. The candlelight burned quietly, illuminating the entire room.

The candlelight cast flickering shadows on the stone wall.

The air was warm and dry, a stark contrast to the chilling depths of the prison.

There were only two people in the room.

Seated in the main seat was none other than the old Taoist priest who had appeared on the sacrificial altar that day—the Imperial Preceptor.

He was still wearing that faded gray Taoist robe, his hair casually tied up with a wooden hairpin, his face thin and wrinkled, looking like an ordinary, poor old Taoist priest. But as he sat there, his back straight, his hands naturally placed on his knees, he exuded an aura of calm as a mountain and unfathomable depth.

His eyes were calmly fixed on Li Bai.

Those eyes appeared exceptionally deep in the candlelight, with starlight seemingly flowing in the depths of their pupils, yet also appearing completely empty.

Standing next to the Imperial Advisor was a person.

Gao Lishi.

This powerful eunuch, who held immense influence in the court, was dressed in a dark purple casual robe, without an official hat, and his gray hair was neatly combed. He stood beside the Grand Preceptor with his hands tucked into his sleeves, bowing slightly, his face as calm as an ancient well, revealing neither joy nor anger, nor any emotional fluctuation.

But Li Bai could feel that Gao Lishi's gaze was like two cold knives, scraping inch by inch across his body, his face, and his eyes.

The room was very quiet.

The only sounds were the occasional crackling of the burning candle and the faint rustling of the wind as the flame flickered.

The Imperial Advisor remained silent.

Gao Lishi remained silent.

They watched Li Bai quietly for a full half-cup of tea's time.

The pressure in the air builds up silently.

Li Bai could feel his heart racing and cold sweat beading on his back. But he forced himself to remain calm and raised his head to meet the gaze of the Imperial Preceptor.

We must not be timid.

Don't panic.

This is both an interrogation and a game of strategy.

Finally, the Imperial Advisor spoke.

His voice was calm and slow, with the hoarseness characteristic of the elderly, but every word was crystal clear, like striking a stone slab:

"Li Bai".

"Is your injury any better?"

This is a very common question, even one that carries a hint of concern.

But alarm bells were ringing in Li Bai's mind.

He took a deep breath and replied in as calm a voice as possible, "Thank you for your concern, Imperial Preceptor. My injuries... are recovering."

"That's good." The Imperial Advisor nodded slightly. "The Heavenly Prison is cold and damp, not conducive to recovery. But there are some things we must clarify before deciding how to deal with you next."

He paused, his gaze falling on the shackles on Li Bai's wrists.

"Are you getting used to these shackles?"

Li Bai remained silent for a moment, then said, "The shackles designed by the Imperial Advisor are exquisite; this junior... is powerless to break free."

This statement was partly true and partly a test.

The Imperial Advisor showed a very faint smile, which vanished in an instant, so quickly that it seemed like an illusion.

"It wasn't designed by me," he said slowly. "It was modified by the Ministry of Works' Crafts Bureau based on the 'Spirit Locking Array' recorded in ancient books. It was specifically used to imprison... 'special' prisoners like you."

special.

The word, spoken by the Imperial Advisor in a calm tone, carried an immense weight.

Li Bai's heart sank.

The Imperial Advisor did not continue this topic, but instead changed the subject:

Tell me about your background.

"Where do you live? Who is your teacher? What are your parents' names? When did you enter Mount Shu? What kind of practice do you cultivate?"

A barrage of questions was fired at him like a machine gun.

Every question gets straight to the heart of the matter.

Li Bai had already prepared the answer—or rather, the answer that was half true and half false.

He raised his head and looked calmly at the Imperial Advisor:

"My junior, Li Bai, courtesy name Taibai, was born in Qinglian Township, Changlong County, Mianzhou, Jiannan Circuit. My ancestral home is Chengji, Longxi. My parents died early, and I have no siblings. In my youth, I traveled in Sichuan and accidentally entered a deep mountain. There I found an ancient immortal cave and inherited the Qinglian Sword Manual and the immortal sword 'Qinglian'. After that, I took Qinglian as my name and lived in seclusion in the mountains of Sichuan to cultivate until recently when I came out of the mountains to travel."

This statement is nine parts true and one part false.

The true part is his background, hometown, and even his pen name "Qinglian"—historically, Li Bai did indeed use the pen name "Qinglian Jushi." The false part is the "ancient immortal cave" and "seclusion in the Shu Mountains"—his true heritage came from the secret realm of the Xiling Divine Kingdom, and the so-called "seclusion" was merely the two years after his time travel.

The Imperial Advisor listened quietly, his fingers tapping lightly on his knees.

"Ancient Immortal's Cave?" he repeated. "Where in Mount Shu is it?"

"I was young at the time and accidentally entered a maze. When I woke up, I was already in the cave. After receiving the inheritance, the cave sealed itself and could not be found again." Li Bai's answer was watertight—the maze and the self-sealing were unverifiable claims.

"The Azure Lotus Sword Manual... what kind of martial art is it?"

"It is a sword cultivation inheritance, focusing on sword intent and supplemented by qi cultivation. This junior is dull-witted and has only mastered the basics."

Where is the Legend of Sword and Fairy 'Azure Lotus' now?

"It was... it was confiscated by the imperial court." Li Bai lowered his head, his voice carrying a hint of resentment and helplessness.

The Imperial Advisor nodded, not pressing further about the whereabouts of the Azure Lotus Sword, but instead asked a different question:

"On that day at the sacrificial altar, you activated the Azure Lotus Sword, triggering extraordinary phenomena in the heavens and earth. What was your intention?"

coming.

One of the most critical issues.

Li Bai took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked at him sincerely:

"Reporting to the Imperial Preceptor, that day... was truly an accident."

"An accident?" The Imperial Advisor raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Yes." Li Bai's speech quickened, but remained clear. "When I first arrived in Chang'an, I witnessed the grand ceremony of worshipping Heaven, with all the people paying homage. I felt a sense of unease, as if the earth's veins in Chang'an were stirring. In the 'Azure Lotus Sword Manual' that I cultivate, there is a method to 'use sword intent to communicate with the earth's veins and guide spiritual energy.' On a whim, I tried to use the Azure Lotus Sword as a guide to communicate with the earth's veins in order to investigate the matter."

"Who knew..." His face showed just the right amount of regret and fear, "Who knew that the power of Chang'an's earth veins far exceeded my imagination. The moment my sword intent touched the earth veins, it was like a mud ox entering the sea, going out of control. The Azure Lotus Sword activated on its own, drawing on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, which... led to this great disaster."

He paused, then lowered his voice:

"This junior had absolutely no intention of disrupting the ceremony or disturbing His Majesty's presence. It was simply... my skills were lacking, which led to this grave mistake, for which I deserve to die."

After saying that, he lowered his head and said no more.

Silence fell over the room once again.

The candlelight flickered, casting the shadows of the three people onto the stone wall, making them appear longer and shorter.

The Imperial Advisor's fingers continued to tap lightly on his knees.

One, two, three...

The pace was steady, neither too fast nor too slow.

He was thinking, judging, and weighing the options.

Li Bai could feel that the Imperial Preceptor's gaze was like two searchlights, piercing through his body and soul, scrutinizing every word he uttered and every emotion he expressed.

Time passed in silence.

Every breath felt like a year.

Finally, the Imperial Advisor stopped tapping his fingers.

He spoke slowly, his voice still calm:

"The earth's veins are shifting... Use sword intent to connect with the earth's veins... channel spiritual energy..."

"That's an interesting way of putting it."

He neither said he believed nor he disbelieved.

I just said it was "interesting".

Li Bai's heart was suspended in mid-air.

Just then, Gao Lishi, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up.

His voice, unlike the Grand Preceptor's calm tone, carried a cold, metallic quality; each word was like an icicle, piercing straight to the heart.

"Li Bai".