Li Bai: I Ask the Sky with Poetry and Wine

Name: Li Bai: I Ask the Sky with Poetry and Wine
Author: Yunzhou Listens To Snow

by Yunzhou Listens To Snow

ongoing History Jin, Sui and Tang Dynasties Male Lead

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146Kwords96chapters

Latest:

Ch. 96 — Weapons Intelligence Reanalysis

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About This Novel

When the moonlight wine of Chang'an was in the wasteland outside Suiye City, a baby was crying in the wind and sand of a foreign land. He didn't know that he would travel all over the mountains and rivers of Tang Dynasty, but he would never be able to enter the depths of the temple. My name is Li Bai, the broken leaves are my birthplace, and the mountains and rivers of Sichuan cultivate my spirit. When he was young, he came out of Sichuan with sword in hand, full of passion and poetry, and wanted to impress the emperor with his articles. However, official career is like looking at flowers in the mist. The closer you get, the more illusory it becomes. Trapped in the cold eyes of a wealthy family, hidden in the mountains and rivers, I used poetry as a sword to pierce the glitz; I used wine as a matchmaker to express my loneliness and anger. The turning point of fate began in Chang'an Palace. In the early years of Tianbao, I entered the Imperial Academy to serve as a priest. I thought I could fulfill my ambitions, but it was just an embellishment for the emperor's banquet. The golden vase and jade cup contain both talent and shackles. I was drunk and dissolute, laughed and left the banquet, and was finally given money and released. In exchange for my freedom, I also lost my fame. Anshi chaos broke out, and the mountains and rivers were shattered. I joined the army, willing to serve the country with my body, but I accidentally fell into the whirlpool of power and suffered several downfalls. Yelang was exiled and pardoned and returned to the east. In his old age, his sick bones still want to wear armor. However, the world has changed. The heroic sentiments of the past are now only poems. If life is a pot of wine, then I have drunk all the sweetness and swallowed the bitterness. The prosperous times are like dreams, and the troubled times are like ink. I ask Changtian with poetry and wine: In this vast world, how should scholars deal with themselves?