No One Dies for a Thousand Autumns

Literary Version

Brilliant stars adorn the heavens, while I follow idle clouds and leave the imperial capital behind. I refine a pill beyond the mortal realm, and compose a hundred poems in drunken abandon.

Within my pot lies a realm of eternal spring; surely the islands, too, have halls where night never falls. I tread the road beyond the azure skies, proud above the Nine Heavens, defying even Xi Huang.

The dream ends, and all things come to naught. Misty waters conceal the mirage towers. After three thousand days of refining lead and mercury, I leap beyond eight hundred years of yin and yang.

My sword hangs beneath the southern Dipper, its point aimed north; my spirit reaches beyond the heavens, just above the moon. When I came, I seized a flawless mirror, and now it hangs high in the blue sky, never to be reclaimed.

Plain Version: A modern man transmigrates to the Great Shang. The Celestial Emperor has fallen, a sage has appeared, phoenixes cry over Xiqi, and the hearts of the eight hundred lords are wavering.

The Three Teachings jointly put forward the Investiture of the Gods, but the protagonist somehow finds himself aboard the Great Shang’s war chariot. This is where the story begins.