Volume Two: The Sages Illuminate the Present, A Truly Brilliant Age Chapter Two: The Sword Immortal Li Taibai, Sharing Wine in a Quiet Pavilion

The audience in the bar was intoxicated by the spectacle. As the song ended, Guan Panpan gracefully bowed to the crowd, her elegant gesture revealing just enough to elicit a chorus of wolfish howls. The most alluring is not blatant exposure, but the mysterious half-veiled charm, like a lute-player hiding behind her instrument—at this moment, Guan Panpan embodied this, leaving the audience yearning for more.

Mo Wen felt his sword energy surging within, as if resisting something. Watching the men lose their composure, he almost succumbed himself. The mesmerizing dance contained an invisible enchantment; perhaps this was the path Guan Panpan cultivated.

Guan Panpan, famed courtesan of the Tang Dynasty, was taken as a concubine by Zhang Jian, governor of Xuzhou. After her husband's death, she remained faithful for ten years. Though born an entertainer, she became a paragon of loyalty.

Mo Wen waited patiently, then leapt onto the stage with effortless grace. Seeing someone approach Guan Panpan, the men shouted in protest, but Mo Wen ignored them, sword in hand, its aura flowing. Human nature fears the strong and bullies the weak; sensing Mo Wen’s formidable presence, the crowd fell silent.

“What is your purpose, sir? I greet you with respect,” Guan Panpan said, her red sleeves fluttering as she bowed slightly, a delicate fragrance wafting forth. Mo Wen's spirit wavered, but his sword energy quickly restored his calm. This woman was well-versed in the art of enchantment.

“Why are you here?” Mo Wen asked softly. Guan Panpan and Tang Wan seemed two extremes—one renowned for refined talent, the other for unrivaled beauty.

To avoid prying ears, Mo Wen raised his sword, its tip tracing a circle, forming a barrier that blocked the noise, creating a tranquil space.

Impressed by Mo Wen’s abilities, Guan Panpan answered earnestly, “I do not know. After my husband’s death, I remained faithful for over ten years. The Hermit of Fragrant Mountain gifted me poetry, and I starved myself to death. Upon awakening, I found myself in this world.”

The Hermit of Fragrant Mountain? Bai Juyi!

Mo Wen recalled the tale of Bai Juyi gifting poetry that led to Guan Panpan’s death. Could Bai Juyi be the mastermind behind the arrival of these ancients?

There was no time to ponder. Unable to glean more, Mo Wen warned solemnly, “Now that you live in this era, speak and act with caution. Should you bring harm, I will kill you.”

His overwhelming aura pressed upon Guan Panpan, who paled and quietly promised compliance. Mo Wen sheathed his sword and departed.

He came and went like the wind. On the flight back to Shanghai, Mo Wen pondered deeply. The appearance of these two ancient figures was no coincidence; surely more would follow. Zhao Tiansheng’s fears were justified—he worried someone might deliberately use the ancients to disrupt the present.

Moreover, Mo Wen wondered if the reversal of yin and yang and the ancients’ presence might alter the course of history, causing unforeseen consequences.

When the plane landed, Mo Wen and his companion hurried to the academy. In a small building, Zhao Tiansheng listened to Mo Wen’s account, remaining silent for a long time. At this critical juncture, Zhao Tiansheng wished to avoid unnecessary complications and new enemies.

Mo Wen was about to take his leave when suddenly, his sword energy surged wildly, as if a tide was rising within him. An immense sword aura descended from the sky.

Zhao Tiansheng frowned and vanished in a flash. The three stood in the courtyard, gazing skyward.

A man appeared—a topknot on his head, clad in white silk with a round-collared robe and tall boots, his attire flowing, handsome and dashing, riding a sword through the air.

“No flying in the academy grounds!” the principal’s hearty voice rang out, but the newcomer paid no heed, standing aloft on his sword and calling, “Is Zhao Tiansheng here? I am Li Taibai. I heard there is a master of swordsmanship here and have come to seek instruction!”

Sword Immortal Li Taibai!

Another ancient! Mo Wen’s pupils contracted—the sword aura rivaled, if not surpassed, that of Zhao Tiansheng!

“Principal, wait! Let me meet him first!” Mo Wen stopped the principal from acting. The visitor’s intentions were unclear—best to observe first.

He soared up, coming face-to-face with Li Taibai. Mo Wen declared, “I am Mo Wen, also a swordsman, student of Zhao Tiansheng, and would gladly learn from the Sword Immortal’s mastery.”

With that, Mo Wen’s sword heart cleared, his aura rising sharply, his sword ringing, true emotion radiating from his mind, clashing with Li Taibai’s sword aura.

Seeing this, Li Taibai put aside his earlier contempt, wielding his sword, unleashing a torrent of sword qi—each stream shooting toward Mo Wen. Mo Wen steadied his mind, his sword slicing through the air, radiance like gentle spring rain nourishing the sky.

The two sword auras merged, stirring wind and clouds. Li Taibai’s sword was free and unrestrained, arrogant and dominant, embodying the spirit of “who else but me rules the world?”—an invincible presence.

Mo Wen’s sword, in contrast, was like spring rain, tender and lingering, forming an opposing extreme. Their sword energies collided in the air, most dissipating, but Mo Wen was still grazed by a strand, a lock of hair drifting down his cheek.

Li Taibai also retreated several meters, surprised but with unmatched excitement in his eyes.

“Hahaha, excellent! The disciple of Zhao Tiansheng is indeed formidable. I underestimated you. I shall go hone my sword skills further, and when I have improved, I will return to learn more!”

Li Taibai laughed heartily, his innate freedom evident, and was about to depart.

“Sword Immortal, wait!” Mo Wen hurriedly called, his eyes flashing, and said loudly, “I have heard the Sword Immortal is fond of wine. By chance, I have fine spirits here. Would you care to sit and sample them with me?”

Li Taibai was not only a Sword Immortal but also famed as the Poet Immortal, with a lifelong passion for drinking, swordplay, and composing poetry. Mo Wen’s invitation was clever—he knew Li Taibai would accept.

As expected, Li Taibai paused in mid-flight. Mo Wen continued inviting him, and together they landed in the courtyard.

“This is my teacher, Zhao Tiansheng! This is Principal Yu of the academy! And this is my wife,” Mo Wen said, taking the opportunity to introduce everyone. Li Taibai looked at Zhao Tiansheng with deep respect, then at Principal Yu with awe.

“I met one of the great sages of antiquity, who said the modern world is full of talented and powerful people. It’s true!” Li Taibai’s excitement was palpable. Perhaps in his era, he had long been unrivaled.

Lin Xi resumed her role as chef, and this time the banquet was set in the courtyard. The four drank together, Li Bai declaring his delight, saying his visit was truly worthwhile.

After several rounds, Mo Wen subtly probed, uncovering much: ancient powers traverse eras, urging or directly arranging for ancients to appear in the present. Li Bai, Tang Wan, and Guan Panpan were all brought here by such means.

When asked about his purpose in the present, Li Taibai sighed, seized a bottle of Maotai, drained it, and said, “I entered the Way through the sword, but have reached a bottleneck. After enlightenment from a great sage, I came to this world seeking opportunity and immortality.”

Indeed, Li Taibai pursued the sword path, just as Zhao Tiansheng and Mo Wen did. Mo Wen felt a chill—if even a figure like Li Taibai had not mastered this way, what hope was there?

“May I ask who this great sage is?” Mo Wen gazed at Li Taibai, eager to learn the identity of the mastermind. But Li Taibai shook his head, reverence in his eyes, and sighed, “I do not know. Such a person must be extraordinary, with powers that shake heaven and earth.”

Mo Wen was somewhat disappointed, but aside from all else, meeting a figure from the textbooks was a great fortune.

And Li Taibai’s combat strength was astonishing—while not at the level of ultimate freedom, he was surely on par with Zhao Tiansheng. Mo Wen and Zhao Tiansheng exchanged smiles; Principal Yu nodded.

“I have long admired the Sword Immortal. To meet you today fulfills my life’s wish. Let us drink together!” The four toasted again. Li Taibai, straightforward by nature, did not use internal energy to resist the effects of alcohol and gradually became intoxicated.

“This wine of the modern world is the strongest I’ve ever tasted!” Li Bai exclaimed repeatedly. Mo Wen wanted to laugh—the fifty-degree spirits of today could hardly compare to the much milder wines of the Tang Dynasty.

Seeing the time was right, Mo Wen stood up, filled Li Taibai’s cup, and bowed, saying, “I may not be worthy, but with such fine wine, there is an endless supply. If the Sword Immortal is willing, why not stay here?”

Li Taibai was taken aback, then burst out laughing and gladly agreed.

Thus, the Sword Immortal of the Tang Dynasty was captured by wine and successfully recruited.