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

Gao Lishi's question was like a poisoned dagger, piercing Li Bai's heart. The air in the interrogation room froze instantly, even the candlelight seemed to stop flickering. Li Bai could feel his blood running backward, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his prison clothes. He raised his head, meeting Gao Lishi's eyes, cold as a viper's, his brain racing—admit? Deny? Give a vague answer? Every choice could lead to utter ruin.

In the silence that hung between life and death, the Imperial Advisor suddenly coughed softly.

The voice was very soft, but in the deathly silent interrogation room, it exploded like a thunderclap.

Li Bai was about to speak—

"Squeak—"

The heavy wooden side door of the interrogation room was pushed open without warning.

The door hinges turned with a dry, slow sound, like an old millstone turning. An air different from the cold, gloomy atmosphere of the cell, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood and ambergris, rushed in from outside. The candlelight flickered violently, and the shadows of three people on the wall swayed wildly, twisting into bizarre shapes.

A figure walked in slowly.

The newcomer was dressed in ordinary dark-colored casual clothes made of fine Shu brocade, but without any embellishment. A simple jade belt cinched his waist, and he wore black soft boots. He appeared to be around fifty years old, with a square face, high brow bones, and eyes that gleamed sharply like a hawk's in the candlelight. His steps were steady, each step making a soft yet clear sound on the stone slabs.

He didn't look at anyone, but walked straight to the center of the interrogation room and stood there.

Then, he slowly turned around.

The Imperial Advisor was the first to react.

The old man, who had remained seated as steady as a mountain and seemed unfathomable, rose from his chair almost instantly, his movements so swift that Li Bai barely saw them. He clasped his hands together in front of him and bowed deeply.

"Your Majesty, I pay my respects."

His voice carried a respect that Li Bai had never heard before.

Gao Lishi reacted a beat slower, but he immediately knelt down, his forehead touching the ground:

"This servant, Gao Lishi, kowtows to Your Majesty."

His voice trembled slightly.

Li Bai's heart stopped beating at that moment.

His Majesty?

saint?

His gaze was fixed on the middle-aged man—Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Longji! The creator of the Kaiyuan era of prosperity, the current emperor of the Tang Empire, and also… Yang Yuhuan's husband.

Li Bai tried to stand up, but the shackles held him firmly to the chair. He could only try his best to straighten his back and lower his head. His throat was dry, his lips were parched, and even breathing became difficult. The air in the interrogation room seemed to have turned into a viscous liquid, pressing down on his chest.

Li Longji's gaze swept over the Imperial Preceptor, over Gao Lishi, and finally landed on Li Bai.

That gaze was like a tangible blade, scraping across Li Bai's skin.

"Rise."

The emperor's voice was not loud, but every word carried an undeniable authority. It was an aura that naturally developed after long-term mastery of supreme power; he didn't need to deliberately raise his voice to command the entire space to submit.

The Imperial Advisor straightened up, but still bowed slightly, and stepped aside.

Gao Lishi got up and stood beside the emperor with his hands at his sides, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Li Longji didn't sit; he stood there, his gaze lingering on Li Bai for a full ten breaths. The candlelight cast flickering shadows on his face, making his expression even more unfathomable. The interrogation room was eerily quiet, broken only by the occasional crackling of the burning candle wick and Li Bai's own increasingly rapid heartbeat.

"Li Bai".

The emperor finally spoke, his voice deep and resonant, like an ancient bell in a deep mountain:

"I like your poem very much."

He paused, as if recalling something:

"'Clouds remind me of her clothes, flowers of her face; spring breeze caresses the balustrade, dew is heavy'—how well written! When I first read these two lines, I felt that this poem should only exist in heaven."

Li Bai's heart clenched suddenly.

That was a poem he wrote for Yang Guifei! The emperor actually knew it! And... remembered it so clearly!

"Your sword," Li Longji continued, his gaze falling on the shackles on Li Bai's wrists, "I have seen it today as well."

His tone was calm, but every word struck Li Bai's heart like a heavy hammer:

"On the altar of Heaven, the Azure Lotus Sword was drawn, and the world changed color. The people knelt in worship, believing it to be a divine miracle. I sat on the high platform, looking at that sword, looking at you—a scholar in white robes, standing with the sword in hand, its aura soaring to the heavens."

The emperor took a step forward.

The sound of boot soles scraping against the stone slabs was exceptionally clear in the silence.

"Now," Li Longji's voice suddenly turned cold, "tell me."

His gaze was like lightning, fixed intently on Li Bai's eyes:

"Why would you commit such a heinous act?"

Every word was like an icicle, piercing Li Bai's eardrums:

"It's for..."

The emperor paused for a moment.

The air in the interrogation room froze completely. The candlelight stopped flickering, and even the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. The Grand Preceptor lowered his eyes, his face expressionless. Gao Lishi's breathing almost disappeared.

Li Bai could feel that his back was completely soaked with cold sweat. The prison clothes clung to his skin, damp and icy cold. The shackles on his wrists sent chills through his body, spreading along his veins. His throat tightened, his lips cracked, and even swallowing saliva became difficult.

But even under this extreme pressure, his mind remained unusually clear.

Memories from both lifetimes surged wildly at this moment.

In his past life, he was Li Bai, the engineer who chipped away at rocks in the geological team, analyzed data in the laboratory, and was timid yet stubborn in front of his wife. In this life, he is Li Bai, the poet who received the sword immortal's inheritance in the secret realm of Mount Shu, drank wine and wrote poetry on the streets of Chang'an, and whose heart raced in front of Yang Guifei.

Two souls, two memories, two lives.

At this moment, there is fusion, collision, and sublimation.

He knew that every word he spoke, every phrase, and even every tone of his voice would determine his life or death.

It's not just his life or death that's at stake.

There's also Yang Yuhuan.

And then there's... Yang Xiaohuan, who is struggling in the mud a thousand years later.

Li Bai took a deep breath.

The cold, musty air of the cell filled his lungs, carrying the stench of blood and dampness, yet it only heightened his alertness. He raised his head to meet the emperor's gaze. There was no flinching, no fear, and no feigned subservience.

His eyes were calm, as calm as a lake in late autumn.

"Return to Your Majesty."

Li Bai spoke, his voice a little hoarse, but very steady:

"Your subject has indeed admired Lady Yang's talent and beauty."

He admitted it.

The Imperial Advisor's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

A cold glint flashed in Gao Lishi's eyes.

Li Longji's expression remained unchanged; he simply watched him quietly.

"Yang is only fifteen years old, exceptionally beautiful, and possesses both talent and artistry," Li Bai continued, his tone as calm as if stating a fact. "When I first saw her in Chengdu, I was astonished by her divine beauty. Since then, I have presented her with several poems, all of which came from the bottom of my heart."

He paused:

"But today's actions are not for personal gain."

He spoke these words very slowly, pronouncing each word clearly.

Li Longji narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Oh?" The emperor's voice was devoid of emotion. "Then why?"

Li Bai took a deep breath and began to weave the lie he had pondered countless times in his mind—no, not a complete lie. Half-truth, half-lie, a mixture of truth and illusion—that was the most skillful approach.

"I grew up in Shu (Sichuan) and often went deep into the mountains to collect herbs." His voice gradually became smoother. "In the eighteenth year of Kaiyuan (900 AD), I went to Qingcheng Mountain to collect herbs and accidentally entered an ancient cave. There were murals and stone carvings in the cave, recording ancient events. In the cave, I found the remains of an ancient immortal who had passed away in meditation. Beside him were three jade slips, which recorded a book called 'Qinglian Sword Canon'."

This is the truth.

At least the first part is true. He did have a strange encounter in Qingcheng Mountain, but the time, place, and details have been altered.

"I am of dull talent and have studied diligently for many years before I was able to enter the gate," Li Bai continued. "The Azure Lotus Sword Manual not only contains methods of sword cultivation, but also the art of 'the mysteries of the earth's veins.' Upon reaching a certain level, one can sense the flow of the earth's veins, guide spiritual energy, and resolve earthly evil influences."

That's a lie.

The Azure Lotus Sword Manual is a pure sword cultivation tradition, completely devoid of earth vein techniques. However, Li Bai was a geological engineer in his previous life, possessing a thorough understanding of crustal movement, plate tectonics, and the principles of earthquakes. Packaging modern geological knowledge as an "ancient immortal tradition" was a pre-prepared explanation.

"On that day of the sacrificial ceremony to Heaven," Li Bai's voice deepened, "I accompanied a friend to Chang'an and saw the people paying homage and the Emperor ascending the platform. I originally intended to observe the ceremony from afar and dared not approach. But at the very moment His Majesty ascended the platform—"

He raised his head, his eyes revealing a suitable mix of fear and lingering apprehension:

"I suddenly sense something unusual about the earth's veins in Chang'an!"

For the first time, Li Longji's brows furrowed.

"Is there something wrong with the earth's veins?" the emperor repeated.

"Yes." Li Bai nodded vigorously, his tone becoming urgent. "Beneath Chang'an City, the earth's veins flow like a dragon, normally smooth and steady. But that day, the energy of the earth's veins was restless and agitated, as if they were about to become blocked. I cultivate the *Azure Lotus Sword Manual*, and I am particularly sensitive to such sensations. At the time, I felt that if the blocked earth's veins were to erupt, at best the earth would shake and mountains would tremble, at worst… Chang'an City might be in danger of collapsing!"

His voice was trembling.

It wasn't an act.

He was genuinely afraid—afraid that his fabricated lies would be exposed, afraid that the emperor wouldn't believe him, afraid that he would be dragged out and beheaded at any moment.

But this fear actually made his performance more realistic.

"In my haste, I forgot my place and the occasion," Li Bai said with regret. "I only thought that since I possess the inheritance of an ancient immortal, I might be able to try to clear the earth's veins and resolve the crisis. So I took out the Azure Lotus Sword—an ancient immortal relic with the ability to communicate with the earth's veins—and used its sword intent as a guide to try to explore the blocked areas of the earth's veins."

He paused, a look of pain crossing his face:

"Who knew... the grandeur of Chang'an's geomantic energy far exceeded my expectations!"

"The moment the sword intent touched the earth's veins, it vanished like a mud ox entering the sea, spiraling out of control!" Li Bai's voice suddenly rose. "The Azure Lotus Sword activated on its own, its cry soaring to the heavens, causing chaos in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth! I desperately tried to retract the sword intent, but it was too late! I could only watch helplessly as the sword energy soared into the sky, strange phenomena occurred frequently, alarming the imperial procession and disrupting the grand ceremony..."

He lowered his head, his voice choked with emotion:

"This is all my fault! My skills are insufficient; I recklessly disturbed the earth's veins, causing this great disaster! I deserve to die!"

After saying that, he fell silent, only lowering his head with his shoulders trembling slightly.

Silence fell once again in the interrogation room.

The flickering candlelight cast the shadows of the four figures onto the stone wall. Li Bai's shadow, bound by shackles, was twisted into a grotesque mass. The emperor's shadow was tall and imposing, like a mountain. The shadows of the Imperial Preceptor and Gao Lishi stood respectfully on either side.

Time passed by, second by second.

Every breath felt like a year.

Li Bai could hear his own heartbeat, pounding in his chest like a drum. He could feel cold sweat trickling down his forehead, dripping onto the stone slab with a soft "drip-drip" sound. He could smell the sandalwood, ambergris, musty, and bloody scents in the air, and... the oppressive aura emanating from the emperor, the kind of supreme power that was unique to him.

Finally, Li Longji spoke.

"Charge towards the high platform," the emperor's voice remained calm, "and why?"

Li Bai raised his head, his eyes revealing a suitable mix of bewilderment and lingering fear:

"At that time, the world changed drastically, a fierce wind arose, and sand and stones flew everywhere. I saw the curtains on the high platform billowing, the guards in a panic, and Your Majesty and... Consort Gui were in imminent danger. Although I have committed a grave mistake, I had absolutely no intention of treason! At that time, I only thought that I possess martial arts skills and might be able to step forward to protect Your Majesty and atone for my sins."

He paused, then lowered his voice:

"But as soon as I rushed up the steps, I was captured by the guards. After that, I...cannot remember anything."

A perfect explanation.

The motivation shifted from "personal feelings" to "loyalty to the emperor" and "accidents".

The unusual phenomena were attributed to "geological issues" and "lack of skill."

The act of rushing towards the high platform is interpreted as "an eagerness to protect the emperor."

Every step was perfected, and every loophole was plugged.

At least, that's how it appears on the surface.

Li Bai held his breath, awaiting the emperor's decision.

Li Longji remained silent.

He simply stared at Li Bai, his gaze as deep as two ancient wells. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, yet it couldn't penetrate that unfathomable darkness. His fingers tapped lightly at his side, a slow rhythm—one tap, two taps, three taps…

The air in the interrogation room grew heavier and heavier with each knock.

The Imperial Advisor kept his eyes downcast, like a stone statue.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Gao Lishi's forehead.

Finally, the knocking stopped.

Li Longji spoke slowly, his voice revealing neither joy nor anger:

"The ancient immortal lineage you mentioned..."

He paused, his gaze sharp as lightning:

"Is this related to the recent rumors in Sichuan about the 'Xiling Divine Kingdom' and the 'Sanxingdui Mystery'?"

boom--!

For a moment, Li Bai's mind went completely blank.

The Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom?

The Secret Realm of Sanxingdui?

The Emperor... actually knew?!

His heart pounded wildly, blood rushed to his head, and his ears rang. Fragments of memories from his past and present lives surged wildly through his mind—the secret realm deep within Mount Shu, the bronze divine tree, the golden mask, the murals of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom, those ancient characters, those lost civilizations…

These should be top secret!

Apart from him, and apart from the remaining people of the Xiling Divine Kingdom who might still exist, no one should know!

At the very least, it shouldn't be asked so casually by the reigning emperor!

Li Bai opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

It felt like an invisible hand was gripping his throat.

Cold sweat streamed down my back.

He felt the shackles on his wrists become incredibly heavy at that moment. The dark blue runes seemed to come alive, coldly watching him, awaiting his answer.

But the emperor's gaze remained fixed on his face.

Like two red-hot branding irons.