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

The purple lightning in the sky completely dissipated, leaving only the torn chaotic rift behind, where the dark sea of ​​lightning continued to churn silently. No new lightning struck immediately, but this deathly silence, this brewing stillness, was even more unsettling than the previous violent thunder. The oppressive force, like tangible mercury, pressed in from all directions, making the air so thick it was hard to breathe. The bronze divine tree stopped humming, and the cracks on the platform ceased to spread; everything seemed frozen in the final calm before the storm. Li Bai leaned on his sword, each breath accompanied by a burning pain in his chest and abdomen, his vision blurred by blood loss and weakness. But he stared intently at the darkness, a faint tremor emanating from the nearly dried-up Azure Lotus Sword Core within his dantian. A cold and eerie chill was quietly seeping into the depths of his consciousness through the soul-locking connection.

Not right.

This was not a violent harbinger of impending tribulation lightning, but something... colder, thicker, and deeper into the marrow.

Li Bai struggled to regulate his breathing, attempting to circulate the inner power of the "Red Dust Sword Manual" and mobilize his remaining internal energy. A tearing pain shot through his meridians, while his internal energy flowed laboriously like a trickle, repairing the wounds in his body. The Azure Lotus Sword, planted on the platform, emanated a warm, cool sensation, and wisps of life energy nourished him, but this chill only grew stronger.

He suddenly felt his eyelids were very heavy.

It wasn't fatigue, but a gentle, drowsy heaviness. The charred patterns on the bronze platform before me began to blur and distort, and the deathly rumble of the thunderous sea faded into the distance, replaced by a faint, sweet fragrance. The fragrance was familiar, like… the scent of gardenias wafting from a street stall on a summer night in Chengdu in 2003, or the fragrance of the peony adorning Yang Guifei's hair in the Tang Dynasty capital of Chengdu.

"wrong!"

Li Bai bit his tongue hard, the sharp pain and the taste of blood jolting him awake. But the chill had already seeped into the depths of his consciousness, spreading rapidly like ink in water.

The scene before my eyes has changed.

It was no longer a charred bronze platform, nor a dark, churning sea of ​​lightning.

He stood on a familiar street.

In Chengdu in 2003, the summer nights were sweltering, neon lights flashing. The spicy aroma of hot pot restaurants mingled with the smell of car exhaust wafted through the air, and the clatter of mahjong tiles clattered in the distance. He was wearing his faded geological team work clothes, and in his hand he held a model of a geological hammer—a birthday gift he had given to Yang Xiaohuan. She said it was terribly ugly, but she had kept it by her bedside ever since.

"Li Bai!"

A clear, slightly coquettish voice rang out.

Li Bai was startled and slowly turned his head.

Yang Xiaohuan stood not far away. She wore the floral dress he had saved up for three months' salary to buy, her long hair cascading down her shoulders, her face adorned with delicate makeup, her eyebrows curved, and her smile as bright as the summer sun. There were no tattooed men guarding her, no cold daggers, no "Get lost, you poor wretch." She stood there gracefully, carrying a vegetable basket filled with fresh vegetables and a fish.

"What are you daydreaming about? Come home, Mom and Dad are coming over for dinner today, and I bought your favorite fish." She walked over and naturally took his arm. The warmth of their skin touching, the slight tickle of her hair brushing against his cheek, and the familiar, faint scent of laundry detergent and gardenias emanating from her body made Li Bai's heart clench.

"Xiao Huan..." His voice was hoarse.

"Hmm? What's wrong?" Yang Xiaohuan looked up, her eyes full of concern. "Did you work overtime again? You look so pale. Let's go home, I'll make you some soup."

Family.

Their small, rented room, only forty square meters, was dimly lit, furnished with old furniture, and the walls were covered with his geological drawings and her celebrity posters. The aroma of food wafted from the kitchen, and the news was playing on the television in the living room. Yang Xiaohuan's parents—two kind old people—were sitting on the sofa, their faces beaming with relief as they saw him return.

"Little Li's back? Quickly wash your hands and eat."

How was your workday?

Warm, ordinary, and readily available happiness.

Li Bai was pulled by Yang Xiaohuan to sit at the dining table. Bowls and chopsticks were set out, and the steaming fish soup filled the air with its aroma. Yang Xiaohuan served him food, chattering about today's vegetable prices, complaining about the noisy mahjong parlor downstairs, and then going on about interesting gossip from her workplace. Her parents watched them with smiles, their eyes full of blessings.

All of this was what he most longed for but lost forever before he died in his previous life.

"Eat more." Yang Xiaohuan put another piece of fish on his plate, her eyes sparkling. "By the way, I have some good news for you! That bastard Liu Han and his scoundrel brother Liu Wei were in a car accident yesterday! The two cars crashed into each other and burned to ashes! It's karma! Now no one is forcing us anymore, so we can live our lives properly."

Li Bai paused, his hand holding the chopsticks still.

Liu Han... is dead? The thug who stabbed him to death in the street and coerced Xiao Huan in his past life, just like that... died?

"And another thing," Yang Xiaohuan leaned closer, lowering her voice with a hint of slyness and smugness, "I heard that all of their group's protectors—the deputy bureau chiefs, the directors—have been taken away by the disciplinary committee these past few days! Apparently, there's a particularly powerful anonymous whistleblower who provided irrefutable evidence! Chengdu is going to be quiet now!"

The evil forces collapsed, and their protectors fell from power. Justice was served, and the threat vanished completely.

so perfect.

It's too perfect to be real.

Looking at Yang Xiaohuan's happy smile, at the cozy meal on the table, at this small yet warm home, Li Bai felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and happiness welling up inside him. Yes, how wonderful this was. Evil has its retribution, and good has its end. He and his beloved could live out their lives peacefully and simply. They wouldn't have to venture into Mount Shu anymore, wouldn't have to face imperial power or the torrent of history, and wouldn't have to endure the agony of being slowly sliced ​​to pieces.

As long as he nods, as long as he's willing to immerse himself in this wonderful experience, it's all his.

His fingers trembled slightly, almost dropping the chopsticks.

Just then, the scene before them rippled like water.

The walls of the rented room faded, the streets of Chengdu in the summer night blurred, and the smiles of Yang Xiaohuan and her parents gradually disappeared.

Instead, there were flying eaves and brackets, vermilion palace walls, and white marble railings.

Chang'an, the capital of the Tang Dynasty.

The night was gentle, the moonlight like water. He stood in the courtyard of an exquisite and magnificent palace, no longer wearing his geological team work clothes, but a flowing white scholar's robe, with a green lotus sword hanging at his waist. The courtyard was filled with peonies, in full bloom, their bowl-sized blossoms quietly opening under the moonlight, elegant and noble, their fragrance intoxicating.

"Taibai".

A soft, gentle call, reminiscent of the water towns of Jiangnan, came from behind.

Li Bai slowly turned around.

Under the moonlight, Yang Yuhuan, dressed in a pale yellow palace gown, without heavy makeup, her long, black hair cascading down, loosely held up with a single jade hairpin, walked barefoot onto the smooth, warm white marble floor towards him. The fifteen-year-old girl possessed an exceptionally beautiful face; her eyes, as they sparkled, held both the innocent naiveté of someone untouched by the world and a touch of the subtle sorrow unique to women of the inner palace. But at this moment, that sorrow was washed away by the joy of their reunion; her eyes shone like stars, reflecting his image.

"You've come." She stopped in front of him, tilting her head up, her voice as soft as a dream, "I knew you would come."

"Yu Huan..." Li Bai heard his own voice sound a little hoarse. The girl before him bore a striking resemblance to Yang Xiaohuan from his previous life, but she was younger, more vibrant, and possessed the unique, full-bodied vitality of the Tang Dynasty. This was the image that had been etched into his soul the moment he saw her after traversing a thousand years.

"It's so stuffy in the palace, so many rules." Yang Yuhuan gently tugged at his sleeve, a gesture filled with a young girl's dependence and trust. "They all fear me, they respect me, because I'm a Noble Consort. Only you, Taibai, only the way you look at me isn't like looking at a Noble Consort, it's like looking at Yuhuan." She paused, a sly glint in her eyes. "Tonight, I've sent all the guards away, and Gao Lishi has been summoned to a meeting by His Majesty. Let's go. Just like you said, 'Ten steps, one kill; a thousand miles, no trace left.' You're a sword immortal, you can definitely get me away from here, right?"

She pointed beyond the palace walls, where the vast night sky stretched out, revealing free mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas.

"Let's go to Mount Shu, to those hidden realms you've seen, or to Jiangnan, to the borderlands... anywhere is fine, as long as we're not trapped in this cage." Her voice was full of longing. "You write poetry, I dance, we'll live a carefree life, regardless of imperial power, the An Lushan Rebellion, or the plight of the people. Those things are too big, too tiring. We just need each other, okay?"

The scene shifts again.

He seemed to have already taken her away from the palace. They rode together on horseback, the steed galloping across the moonlit plains, the night breeze carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers. She laughed in his arms, her silvery laughter echoing along the way. They watched the sunrise from mountain peaks, rowed boats on the river, and listened to the rain in bamboo groves. He wrote countless romantic poems, each one for her. She danced the Rainbow Feather Dance for him, graceful as a startled swan, elegant as a swimming dragon. There were no intrigues of powerful ministers, no war-torn border towns, no white silk hanging at Mawei Slope. Only poetry, wine, sword, and the smiling beauty of his beloved before him.

Carefree, joyful, and fulfilled.

This was also the deepest, most secret desire in his heart during countless nights when he held the Azure Lotus Sword. To break through the impasse with force, to exact revenge with swift justice, and to elope with his beloved, regardless of the raging floods. With his cultivation as a Golden Core Sword Immortal, this was not difficult. He could even clearly "feel" that as long as he had a thought and accepted this choice, a vast power would return to his body, the Azure Lotus Sword would resound with joy, and this beautiful illusion would become "reality."

Having lived two lives, the deepest emotional attachments and most primal desires are presented in the most beautiful and alluring way by this inner demon tribulation.

In the modern story, evil deeds are punished, and the couple lives a simple life together.

In the ancient era, he breaks through the impasse with force and lives a carefree life with his lover.

Whichever option you choose, it seems to be "perfect".

Li Bai stood still, watching the cozy rented room and the carefree moonlit scene alternate before his eyes, looking at Yang Xiaohuan's expectant eyes and Yang Yuhuan's outstretched hand. His nostrils were filled with the sweet scent of gardenias and peonies, his ears were filled with gentle whispers and cheerful laughter, and he could feel the warmth of her arm around his and the coolness of the night breeze on his skin.

That's so true.

It was so real that he almost became addicted to it.

A slight smile slowly curved the corners of his mouth.

It was neither joy nor satisfaction.

Instead, it was a smile that was... extremely bitter.

The smile on his pale, blood-stained, and scarred face was particularly jarring.

"What a... clever scheme," he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse yet strangely clear-headed. "It goes straight to the heart, caters to their desires. It gives me what I want most, and then lets me choose to give it up."

He closed his eyes.

It's not about escaping, but about seeing things more clearly.

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, the pale golden lotus projected from the Azure Lotus Sword Core swayed gently. At the lotus's center, the illusory image of a tiny sword, barely an inch in size, dimmed, yet its form remained upright. Around the lotus, countless fine, black threads sprouted from nothingness, attempting to entwine him. These threads were formed from his obsessions, his pain, his greed, and his weakness. The tribulation of inner demons was not an external invasion, but rather the stirring of his own inner demons, attempting to dismantle his Dao heart from within.

If one's Dao heart wavers and chooses to indulge in the illusion of "perfection," then these black threads will completely entangle the Azure Lotus. A Golden Core might be formed, but the Dao heart will be clouded, and future cultivation will come to an end, possibly even leading to demonic possession. More importantly—that means he has accepted the path of "self-cultivation," abandoning the more difficult path he truly embraced deep within his heart after two lifetimes and countless life-and-death experiences.

He opened his eyes again.

The illusion before my eyes remains beautiful.

But what he "saw" was more than that.

He "saw" that outside his warm little home in Chengdu, although the Liu Han group had been destroyed, the breeding ground for organized crime remained unchanged. Perhaps soon, "Zhang Han" and "Wang Han" would emerge, continuing to oppress ordinary people like Yang Xiaohuan's family. Could he save his own family, and could he save everyone? Is violence for violence, relying on accidental justice through "car accidents" and "anonymous whistleblowing," truly the way to long-term stability?

He "saw" that under the moonlight, as he and Yang Yuhuan lived a carefree life, the lights of Chang'an remained lit, but Li Linfu and Yang Guozhong still wielded power, and An Lushan was still amassing strength. He took Yang Yuhuan away; perhaps he could change her personal fate, but the crisis facing the Tang Dynasty was far from over. The An Lushan Rebellion might erupt in a different form, or even be brought forward because of his intervention. When that happened, the flames of war would rage, corpses would litter the fields, countless families would be shattered, and countless "Yang Xiaohuans" and "Yang Yuhuans" would be plunged into even deeper suffering. He saved one person while abandoning the common people; how was he any different from those powerful and wealthy officials?

What exactly is the path he seeks?

Is it simply about protecting the loved ones around you, creating a small, fulfilling life?

We should use the sword in our hands and the thoughts in our hearts to protect the peace of more people and to guide the turbid world toward a brighter and more just direction, even if it's just a little bit.

The former is easy. The latter is extremely difficult, and one might even lose their life without seeing any results.

Just like in the Tang Dynasty, when he ultimately chose to give up the opportunity to seize by force and willingly endure the punishment of slow slicing. That was not a failure, but a bitter choice he made in that situation for the sake of a greater "protection." That pain and regret are still etched deep in his soul.

Now, the inner demons are presenting him with this "easy fulfillment," tempting him: Choose, and you will be freed and happy.

The bitter smile on Li Bai's face gradually faded, replaced by a profound calm. Beneath that calm lay a steadfast resolve born from enduring two lifetimes of hardship and seeing through the illusion of reality.

He slowly raised his hand, not to grasp Yang Xiaohuan's hand, nor to take Yang Yuhuan's hand.

Instead, he grasped the hilt of the Azure Lotus Sword, which had been stuck in the bronze platform beside him.

A cool, solid, and familiar sensation came through.

"What I seek..." he began, his voice not loud, yet it resonated clearly in his mind, as if piercing through the layers of illusion before him, "not merely to seek personal gain."

The cozy rented room and the idyllic moonlit scene before them both shook violently, cracking like a shattered mirror. Yang Xiaohuan and Yang Yuhuan wore expressions of astonishment, confusion, and even pleading.

"Where the sword points, the heart follows." Li Bai gripped the hilt of his sword, and the remaining, faint internal energy began to converge on the blade. It wasn't an attack on the illusion, but rather an inward strike, aimed at the black threads that were growing within his own sea of ​​consciousness, at the wavering and greed that arose when faced with "easy perfection."

Even if I die a hundred times...

He closed his eyes, and within his sea of ​​consciousness, the illusory image of the tiny sword suddenly shone brightly! It wasn't a dazzling golden light, but a clear, autumn-water-like sword light. This sword light wasn't sharp or domineering, but it carried a pure will to cut through illusion and illuminate one's true nature.

No regrets!

"laugh--"

A soft sound, as if something had been cleanly and decisively severed.

Within the sea of ​​consciousness, the black threads binding the azure lotus snapped inch by inch, turning into wisps of green smoke and dissipating. The azure lotus trembled gently, its radiance becoming even more warm and restrained. The illusory image of the lotus heart sword solidified slightly, and more complex Dao patterns faintly appeared on the sword's blade. These patterns seemed to contain the joys and sorrows of the mortal world, as well as mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas; they contained the entanglements of love and passion, and also the fate of the nation and the world.

At this moment, the sword heart in the mortal world is completely clear and perfect.

"Snap!"

The illusion before my eyes shattered completely, like broken glass, turning into countless points of light and dissipating.

The cozy rented room, the palace under the moon, Yang Xiaohuan's smiling face, Yang Yuhuan's tearful eyes... all vanished.

My gaze refocused.

He still stood on the charred bronze divine tree platform, covered in blood, leaning on his sword. The dark sea of ​​lightning in the sky had somehow turned into a pure, chilling black, like the deepest ink, slowly swirling.

Break through the inner demon tribulation!

Almost at the same instant the illusion shattered—

"Buzz!"

A silent tremor, yet one that penetrates to the very depths of the soul, came through!

There was no lightning, no roar.

The eighth tribulation lightning has arrived!

It was formless, colorless, and shapeless, seemingly nothing more than a pure spiritual shock, a bolt of lightning aimed directly at the essence of the soul! Li Bai felt a buzzing sound in his head, as if he had been struck hard by an invisible hammer! His sea of ​​consciousness trembled violently, the green lotus swayed, and the illusory sword emitted a mournful cry. His vision went black, his ears rang incessantly, and blood seeped from all seven orifices! This was not physical pain, but the excruciating agony of his soul being torn apart and burned! It felt as if countless red-hot steel needles were frantically churning deep within his consciousness!

"Ugh—!" Li Bai let out a suppressed roar of pain, his body trembling violently, almost unable to grip his sword. The weakness and excruciating pain emanating from his soul were a hundred times more terrifying than any physical damage caused by any previous tribulation lightning! This was meant to directly obliterate his consciousness and destroy the foundation of his soul!

Just as he was desperately guarding his sea of ​​consciousness, using his newly perfected Mortal Sword Heart to withstand the eighth tribulation lightning of his soul—

"roar--!!!"

A roar, seemingly from the ancient wilderness and filled with violence and destruction, exploded from the depths of the dark sea of ​​lightning!

The ninth tribulation lightning strikes!

It is no longer a pillar of lightning, no longer a snake of electricity.

The pitch-black sea of ​​lightning frantically contracted and condensed inward, finally transforming into a ferocious dragon over a hundred zhang long, entirely composed of black lightning! Its head was imposing, its eyes like two black suns, burning with flames of destruction. Every scale on its body was clearly visible, each formed from the compressed, residual energy of the first eight tribulation lightning strikes! Crimson fire, icy ice, fierce winds, thick earth, sharp metal, purple heaven… lightning of various attributes flowed and merged within the black dragon's body, ultimately transforming into the purest, most extreme form—destruction!

The black dragon roared to the sky, its roar shaking the entire bronze divine tree platform, causing the cracks at the platform's edges to spread again. Its enormous dragon eyes locked onto the figure below, as tiny as an ant, bleeding from all seven orifices, its soul enduring torment.

Then, with the force to crush everything, it swooped down!

The eighth invisible divine soul tribulation lightning bolt, and the ninth destructive lightning dragon that had gathered all remaining energy—

Arrive at the same time!