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

The ancient voice echoed deep within the light, each word carrying a heavy resonance, as if emanating from the very end of time. Li Bai gripped the Azure Lotus Sword tightly, the warmth emanating from its blade keeping him calm. The surrounding light began to coalesce and take shape, the illusion of the office completely dissipating, replaced by darkness—a bottomless, all-consuming darkness. In the darkness, there was the sound of chains dragging on the ground, suppressed sobs, and cold mockery. It was the aura of the Heavenly Prison, the taste of despair, the nightmare he had once personally experienced. Suddenly, the lotus patterns on the Azure Lotus Sword burst forth with a blinding blue light, illuminating three feet ahead. From the darkness, an iron door slowly emerged, rusted and covered with a massive bronze lock. Blood seeped from the keyhole.

"The second trial, the tribulation of fear, begins."

The moment the sound faded, the iron gate burst open.

There is no prison behind the door.

It was a blinding white light.

Li Bai felt a powerful suction force pull him into the doorway, his body seemingly torn apart and then reformed. A sharp buzzing sound rang in his ears, and his vision was filled with swirling spots of light. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he instinctively gripped the Azure Lotus Sword tightly. The patterns on the hilt were deeply imprinted in his palm, bringing a sense of real touch.

I don't know how much time passed—maybe a moment, maybe a quarter of an hour—but the dizziness gradually subsided.

Li Bai opened his eyes.

He was standing in an enormous space.

The first thing you notice is the smell—a complex blend of rust, earth, incense ash, and some kind of ancient oil. The scent is heavy and somber, carrying the desolation of time, seeping deep into your nostrils and making you involuntarily hold your breath. Next comes the touch—cold, hard stone slabs beneath your feet, rough-surfaced, etched with grooves of varying depths, like some kind of ancient drainage system. The air is damp and chilly; you can feel the fine moisture clinging to your bare skin, creating a sticky, uncomfortable feeling.

Then, he could see the scene before him clearly.

bronze.

It's all bronze.

This is a palace made of bronze, or rather, a bronze labyrinth.

Above them was an impossibly high dome, estimated to be at least thirty feet tall, its surface covered with intricate bas-reliefs depicting the sun, moon, stars, mountains, rivers, and countless kneeling figures. Hanging from the center of the dome was a huge bronze lamp, filled with some kind of luminescent oil, emitting a dim, flickering light that enveloped the entire space in a hazy glow.

Bronze artifacts stood all around.

It's not just one or two things.

There are tens of thousands of them.

The closest tree was a bronze divine tree, five zhang tall, with a thick trunk and nine layers of branches, each layer containing three branches. A bronze divine bird perched atop each branch, its beak slightly open as if to sing, but the space remained silent. The tree's leaves were as thin as cicada wings, with sharp edges, gleaming with a cold, eerie green light under the lamplight. Li Bai took a step closer and could see intricate runes etched on the leaves, twisted like snakes. He didn't recognize any of them, but staring at them for too long made him feel dizzy.

After passing the sacred tree, a row of bronze masks appeared ahead.

The masks varied in size, the largest being half a person's height and the smallest only the size of a palm. Their designs were bizarre—protruding eyes, wing-like ears, and an eerie, half-smiling grin at the corners of their mouths. The masks' eyes were hollow, but when you stared into those hollows, you felt a gaze returning from the depths. Li Bai tried to probe them with his divine sense, but the moment it touched the surface, it was as if he had hit an invisible wall and was violently bounced back. A needle-like pain shot through his head; he groaned and quickly withdrew his divine sense.

The nature of the spiritual energy here is completely different from that of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom.

The spiritual energy of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom is pure and clear, carrying the vitality of growing plants. But the spiritual energy here is ancient, desolate, and heavy, as if it has been settled by the incense smoke of thousands of years of sacrifices. There is a mysterious sense of "communication between heaven and earth" mixed in with the spiritual energy—Li Bai can sense that these bronze artifacts are not inanimate objects, but mediums, channels, and bridges connecting the human world with some higher existence.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

The Azure Lotus Sword trembled slightly in his hand, its azure light much dimmer than it had been outside, as if suppressed by the bronze labyrinth. Li Bai tried to channel his spiritual energy into the sword, but the flow of energy slowed by at least 30%, as if he were sinking into a viscous swamp.

"One cannot rely on divine sense, nor can one rely entirely on spiritual power."

Li Bai muttered to himself, his gaze sweeping around.

The labyrinth's structure was extremely complex. Bronze sacred trees, bronze masks, bronze zun (wine vessels), bronze lei (wine vessels), bronze ge (dagger-axes), bronze ji (halberds)... countless artifacts were scattered throughout, forming barriers and passageways. The passageways varied in width; some were only wide enough for one person to pass sideways, while others were as wide as streets. The stone slabs on the ground were engraved with grooves to indicate directions, but these grooves crisscrossed without any discernible pattern.

He chose a passage that looked relatively wide.

Footsteps echoed through the empty space, producing a dull thud. With each step, one could hear the pounding of their own heart—thump, thump, thump, a clear and powerful rhythm. The bronze artifacts on either side of the passage reflected the lamplight, casting distorted shadows. These shadows swayed with the flickering light, appearing as if living creatures were crawling on the walls.

After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a fork in the road appeared ahead.

There are three passages, each leading in a different direction.

Li Bai stopped and observed carefully. At the entrance of each of the three passages stood a bronze artifact—on the left was a bronze standing figure with its hands clasped together, palms facing upwards, as if supporting something; in the middle was a bronze sun wheel-shaped object with twelve rays of light around its rim; and on the right was a bronze scepter, the top of which was carved with a deity with a bird's head and a human body.

He closed his eyes and tried to choose based on his intuition.

But my intuition was completely confused.

The spatial rules here interfere with all perception.

"Since everything is unknown, then..."

Li Bai opened his eyes and walked towards the central passage. He chose the sun wheel-shaped device because it symbolized light and direction—he needed guidance in this labyrinth.

The moment he stepped into the passage, he felt the stone slabs beneath his feet sink slightly.

It was a very slight sinking; he wouldn't have noticed it at all if he hadn't been completely focused.

Immediately afterwards, a dull rustling sound came from behind.

Li Bai suddenly turned around.

At the entrance to the passage we just passed, the bronze sun wheel-shaped artifact was slowly rotating. The twelve rays of light on the rim lit up in turn with a ghostly green glow, illuminating the bronze artifacts on both sides, causing the objects to shift in position.

It's not a hallucination.

It's real movement.

A bronze cauldron shifted three feet to the left, a bronze shield rotated ninety degrees, and a row of bronze arrowheads rose half a foot. These movements were small, but enough to alter the layout of the passageway. Even more terrifying was the chain reaction—the movement of one object would trigger the movement of adjacent objects, making the entire maze seem like a giant mechanism, reorganizing itself.

Li Bai's heart suddenly tightened.

He quickened his pace and moved forward.

But the path ahead also began to change.

The bronze trees on both sides tilted slowly, their branches intertwining to form a new barrier. Dark green liquid seeped from the grooves in the stone slabs of the ground, emitting a pungent sulfurous smell. Upon contact with air, the liquid quickly solidified, forming a gelatinous obstacle.

The maze was guiding him.

It also trapped him.

Li Bai attempted to leap to the top of the bronze artifacts to observe the path from above. But when he reached the top of a bronze square vessel, the vessel beneath his feet suddenly sank, and the ceiling of the entire maze began to lower bronze grids. The holes in the grids were only the size of a fist; once they reached the bottom, he would be trapped and die on top of the square vessel.

He jumped down immediately.

The grid stopped three feet above their heads and then slowly rose back up.

"There are no shortcuts; you can only follow the rules of the maze."

Li Bai wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

He continued forward, this time more cautiously. Every ten steps he would stop to observe the changes in his surroundings, trying to remember the position and orientation of the bronze artifacts. But his memory quickly faded—because the artifacts were constantly moving, and the pattern of their movement was unpredictable. Sometimes they rotated clockwise, sometimes they moved counterclockwise, and sometimes they rose and fell. The entire maze was like a living, breathing, gigantic organism, and he was a tiny foreign object that had intruded into its interior.

The sense of time becomes blurred here.

There was no sunrise or sunset, no changing of the stars, only the eternal, dim lamplight and the eerie green reflection of bronze artifacts. Li Bai could only estimate the time by his own breathing and heartbeat—perhaps two hours, or three? He couldn't be sure.

Hunger and fatigue began to set in.

He hadn't taken the Nine-Turn Azure Lotus Pill given to him by the High Priest before entering the trial. Now wasn't the time. He gritted his teeth and took out a piece of compressed dry rations from his pocket—a habit he'd brought from the modern world, always carrying some emergency food. The rations were hard and dry, but he chewed them carefully, mixing each bite thoroughly with saliva to maximize energy absorption.

After finishing his dry rations, he rested against the trunk of the bronze tree.

The tree trunk was cold, and the runes on its surface pressed against his back. He closed his eyes and tried to circulate the basic techniques of the Azure Lotus Sword Manual. Spiritual energy flowed slowly through his meridians, and with each cycle, the fatigue lessened. Although the spiritual energy here was heavy, its concentration was extremely high, making absorption more efficient than outside.

Suddenly, the Azure Lotus Sword trembled violently.

Li Bai opened his eyes.

The lotus pattern on the sword was glowing, not with a bluish light, but with a soft, milky white radiance. The light spread from the hilt to his arm, bringing a strange warmth. At the same time, he felt a faint pulse coming from inside the hilt—like a heartbeat.

Blade & Soul?

Li Bai held his breath.

He gripped the sword hilt with both hands and focused his consciousness into the blade.

In the darkness, he saw a lotus flower.

It wasn't a fully blooming lotus, but a budding flower. The bud floated in the void, its surface shimmering with a faint halo. The halo flickered with his breath, as if responding to his presence.

"You...are you waking up?"

Li Bai asked the question using his consciousness.

The flower buds trembled gently.

There was no answer, but it conveyed a vague emotion—curiosity, dependence, and a hint of newborn vulnerability.

A warm feeling welled up in Li Bai's heart.

He continued circulating his inner energy, slowly channeling it into the sword. The energy flowed into the flower bud, causing the halo on its surface to brighten. The pulsating sensation became clearer, each beat like a baby's heartbeat.

This process lasted about fifteen minutes.

When Li Bai withdrew his spiritual power, the vibration of the Azure Lotus Sword ceased. The milky-white light on the sword gradually faded, returning to its original azure glow. But Li Bai could feel that the connection between the sword and himself had become even stronger. Before, it was merely a relationship between tool and user; now, there was an added layer of connection, like a blood ties.

He stood up and continued walking.

With the faint guidance of the Azure Lotus Sword, the path ahead seemed a little clearer. The sword would get slightly hot when he chose the wrong direction, and remain cool when he chose the right one. Although he couldn't rely on it completely, it at least provided another reference point.

The maze is still changing.

Moreover, the rate of change is accelerating.

The friction sounds from the moving bronze artifacts grew increasingly intense, like countless gears turning simultaneously. The ground began to tremble, and small pebbles fell from the dome. The smell of sacrificial incense in the air grew stronger, so strong that it made it difficult to breathe.

Li Bai began to run.

He no longer tried to memorize the path, but completely trusted the guidance of the Azure Lotus Sword. He turned left, turned right, went straight, bypassed the bronze cauldron, passed through the gaps in the divine tree, and leaped over a ravine that suddenly split open in the ground. Sweat soaked his back, and his breathing became rapid, but he dared not stop.

I don't know how long I ran.

The passage ahead suddenly opened up.

He burst through a narrow pass, and suddenly the view opened up before him.

This is a circular plaza, about fifty zhang in diameter. In the center of the plaza, there are no bronze artifacts, only a smooth, mirror-like obsidian floor. The floor reflects the lights from the dome, resembling a still, black lake.

At the other end of the square stood three gates.

Three enormous bronze doors.

Each gate is ten zhang high and about six zhang wide, with its doors tightly closed and its surface covered with bas-reliefs. The gates are spaced ten zhang apart and arranged in a fan shape, corresponding to the three directions of the square.

Li Bai stopped, panting.

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

The door on the left is decorated with a relief depicting a scene of love between a man and a woman. But it's not sweet or heartwarming—the man and woman are entangled, their expressions a mixture of pain and ecstasy, surrounded by vines, flames, and tears that fall like pearls. The whole scene is filled with the tension of desire and the beauty of destruction; looking at it for too long will make your heart race and your mouth dry.

The central door features a relief depicting the crushing oppression of the people by imperial power. A majestic palace stands, an emperor sits high, and kneeling officials and prostrate commoners descent beneath him. But upon closer inspection, the emperor's crown is woven from bone, blood seeps from beneath the dragon throne, the faces of the officials are twisted like ghosts, and the bodies of the commoners are pierced by chains. A suffocating sense of oppression washes over you.

The door on the right is decorated with a relief depicting a scene of carnage and the cries of the people. The battlefield is piled high with corpses, the river is stained red, and scavenging crows circle in the sky. People, young and old, flee in despair, their faces streaked with tears. In one corner of the scene, a small figure searches for something among the corpses—the silhouette of that figure bears a striking resemblance to Li Bai.

Three doors.

Three scenes.

Three kinds of...calamities.

Li Bai stood still, his gaze shifting between the three doors.

The Azure Lotus Sword felt slightly warm in my hand, its tip pointing towards the door of love on the left, but it trembled, as if it too was hesitating.

Just then, a voice echoed through the space.

It didn't come from a particular direction.

Instead, the sounds rang out simultaneously from all directions, from the depths of bronze artifacts, from the obsidian on the ground, and from the reliefs on the dome.

The sound was ethereal and ancient, with a metallic, abrasive quality.

"Choose one door to enter, and face your tribulation head-on."

After the sound faded, the square fell into dead silence.

Even the rustling sound of bronze artifacts moving has disappeared.

The whole world seemed to freeze at that moment.

Li Bai gripped the sword hilt tightly, his palms sweating.

He looked at the door on the left—the door to love's torment. Yang Xiaohuan's tears, Yang Yuhuan's glance back, a love entangled across two lifetimes, memories interwoven with sweetness and pain. It was his weakness, his deepest obsession, and also a source of strength for him.

He looked at the central door—the calamity of imperial power. The iron bars of the imperial prison, the majesty of Emperor Xuanzong, Li Linfu's sneer, Gao Lishi's surveillance. It was a colossal entity he had been powerless to confront, the ultimate symbol of power in feudal society.

He looked at the door on his right—the calamity of the common people. The mountains of corpses and seas of blood from the An Lushan Rebellion, the three-foot-long white silk ribbon at Mawei Slope, the cries of displaced people. It was a historical tragedy he had tried to change but failed to, a responsibility heavier than personal love.

Three doors.

Triple calamity.

He had to choose one.

The Azure Lotus Sword trembled more and more violently, and the lotus patterns on its blade flickered, as if urging and warning.

Li Bai closed his eyes.

Countless images flashed through my mind—the chilling sensation of a dagger piercing my chest on the streets of Chengdu in 2003; the carefree joy of drinking and singing with Du Fu in a tavern in Chang'an during the Tang Dynasty; the complex gaze of the High Priest in the mysterious Shu Mountain; and... the tear that no one saw when Yang Xiaohuan turned away.

He opened his eyes.

His gaze fell on the door on the left.

A love tribulation.

Since this is his obsession and his weakness, let's start from here.

He strode forward.

Footsteps echoed crisply on the obsidian floor. One step, two steps, three steps… getting closer and closer to the bronze door. The reliefs on the door magnified before his eyes; the tangled limbs, the pained expressions, the burning flames, seemed to come alive.

Li Bai stopped three zhang (approximately 10 meters) from the gate.

He raised the Azure Lotus Sword, its tip pointing towards the door.

"I choose this gate."

The sound echoed in the square.

The bronze door trembled slowly.

A dark red light seeped through the crack in the door.

The light was like blood, like desire, like a burning flame.

The door opened.