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A Thousand Years Ago: Three People with Li Bai's Shadow
墨書 Inktalez
The frail mule followed closely behind us, matching our pace. I held onto Li Bai's wrist as we raced through the mountains and fields, the vast rivers and mountains shrinking into a blurred yet beautiful anchor point in our eyes—two reckless runners and a directionless mule.
"Twelve Li, don't you think we feel like we're inside a painting?"
He nodded noncommittally and absentmindedly stroked his still non-existent beard. After a few days of getting to know Li Bai, the great poet, my understanding of him has greatly improved. Thanks to my excellent observational skills, my ability to interpret his body language has also reached a new level.
His quick nod could easily be understood as a timely prompt - because it was time to start the "Ancient and Modern Storytelling" session.
First of all, let me briefly explain the background of the story. I arrived here three days ago.
Perhaps every Chinese person has fantasized about time travel. With a history of five thousand years, the great working people have created too many miracles. If a modern person had the chance to witness the splendor of an ancient dynasty, it would be a very lucky thing. Speaking of the most yearned-for feudal era, it would certainly not be complete without the internal saint and external king, and the flourishing age of the Kaiyuan era when envoys came from all directions. It is not an exaggeration to say that the influence of the early Tang Dynasty Dynasty under the rule of Emperor Emperor Xuanzong reached the peak in the history of China.
The abundant material foundation, combined with the lenient attitude of the rulers, has produced numerous magnificent works in this flourishing era. The artistic image of the Tang Dynasty should be a grand, graceful, and overwhelming peony, with its majestic vitality needing no further description. As for Tang poetry, it is like a vast expanse of stars, and the most renowned poet Li Bai is like a meteor disregarding its orbit, capable of tearing through the sky due to its dazzling brilliance.
"Li Bai, you will be very famous in the future." When I fell from the roof to the tree below, I met a young man who was about to leave Shu. I knew at first sight that this man carrying a sword must be Li Bai.
Li Bai possesses the qualities of the poet in my ideal, first of all, a pair of eagle-like, piercing eyes. Once they meet, one dare not easily avoid them. Secondly, Li Bai has the blood of the Hu people. Although his appearance cannot be considered handsome, he exudes a domineering air, looking like a fierce knight.
I actually didn't put much effort into explaining to him who I am and where I come from.
Modern people suddenly crossing through time and space, the mindset is not just a difference of a hundred thousand generations compared to ancient people. I don't want to waste my breath, so I just said I want to travel with him. Li Bai was greatly shocked. How can there be such an interesting person in the world? Seeing me in poverty, he boldly took charge of my travel expenses.
In the literary chronicles, it's not mentioned that Li Bai is actually a chatterbox!
I didn't expect that when the poet isn't writing poetry, his emotions are still so intense. Along the way, he asked me questions as numerous as the stars, enough to fill a book of "One Hundred Thousand Whys" - whereas for me, a modern person, I'm not curious at all. My two eyes combined are not enough. Speaking of it, the ancient green mountains, clear waters, and fresh air are so precious. Only when experiencing it firsthand do I finally understand what "the endless treasures of the Creator" means. The charm of nature is endless; this is truly a dreamlike experience.
Li Bai The first question is about his works, and he is very eager to know which of his poems people in the future will like the most.
I understand that at this time, Li Bai is young and arrogant, just emerging, and still has a bold longing for life. Otherwise, he would not casually write such beautiful and moving lines as "The mountains end in flat land, the river flows into the vast wilderness" and "Under the moon, the flying mirror, clouds form a sea-bound tower." The genius Li Bai must have fantasized on countless nights about the glorious moments when he would realize his grand ambitions, eagerly anticipating how he would have an extraordinary performance.
But when I truthfully told him the truth, it was a simple yet full of flavor poem "Quiet Night Thoughts":
"Before my bed, the bright moonlight appears,
I suspect it to be frost on the ground."
"Raising my head, I gaze at the bright moon; lowering my head, I miss my hometown."
Li Bai After listening, he smacked his lips, took a sip of wine, and asked me if I wanted some. He might not have been very satisfied with my answer. The young exiled immortal felt that as a poet, he should have more stunning and remarkable poems. So he drank all the wine in the bag and took away the untouched wine pot from me. Under the moonlight, he danced a passionate sword dance, while playing with his shining sword.
Drunken Li Bai could write ten great works without needing to rely on a horse, but before the ink dried, he would crumple them all into a ball and throw them into the river. This is very regrettable, and very romantic, especially for Li Bai.
He had very high demands on himself, showing a genius's self-awareness and self-satisfaction. As we sing to the moon, Taibai made that very bold statement in advance - "I am the madman of Chu, singing the Phoenix song and laughing at Confucius."
By chance and fate, after visiting Peony and seeing Wu Daozi's murals, I do not know how long I can stay here. I want to explore Tianlau Mountain with Li Bai; I love his poem "Dreaming of Tianlau, a Farewell." It captures both the landscapes and the dreams of travel, magnificent and splendid, ethereal and fleeting... This is my final wish.
"Li Taibai, you are above the mist." I made a gesture as if framing a picture. Li Bai is very clever; he can already understand my usual gestures and the unspoken words within them, which signify capturing the moment. Li Bai laughed heartily and gave me a thumbs-up, saying that we are both standing above the mist, and he wants to compose a piece titled "Searching for Immortals with Friends in Tianlau."
It's as if some mission has been completed, and unconsciously I actually pulled the trigger of fate, changing someone's trajectory.
Li Bai Once had the ambition to enter officialdom, which was the highest ideal for all talents in the feudal dynasty, to master both civil and martial arts, and to serve the emperor. But his talents clearly did not lie in economics or politics. Li Bai was the freest roc between heaven and earth, and should have soared with the wind, straight into the clouds, to radiate the brilliance of art.
" Taibai, will you introduce me to teacher Cen, Danqiu Sheng, and Master Huaisu?" I swallowed the name of Du Fu, who hadn't been born yet, and Li Bai was still young, with a long road ahead.
Someone once wrote in a book that the meeting of Li Bai and Du Fu in the 8th century BC was no less significant than the encounter of Laozi and Confucius. I admit, it was an immensely great collision.
"Wei, I only have time to make friends with you now," said Li Bai, and the world seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Well, now his "The Hard Road to Shu" can be put on the agenda again.
I could actually feel the distortion of time and space. Obviously, even the tearful Li Bai also sensed something—I was about to return to my future.
"How will people in the future view me?" Li Bai asked me this question the next day, and I didn't answer at the time. I didn't know how to explain to a heroic person that he danced with shackles all his life, and remained naive and romantic until old age.
Silence is also a response.
Today, Li Bai struggled to pry open my fist and stuffed a wolf hair brush into my hand. He didn't say a word, yet it felt as if he had asked too much; everything was conveyed without words.
"Twelve Li, let's follow the bright moon to the ends of the earth."
"Okay."
This "okay" implies too many choices. From now on, the famous Hanlin Li will never be possible, and the headline of returning the gold will disappear like this. Will Taibai, who has not become a poetry superstar, still meet He Zhizhang who exchanges wine with a golden turtle, and the belated encounter of Du Zimei and Wang Lun?
I have thought too much, but I cannot be like the poet Li Bai who ran three thousand miles in one go.
A pot of wine among the flowers, drinking alone without any friends. "Li Bai", these two words are the eternal soul of the bright moon, moonlight shining on the heart, a piece of ice in a jade pot.
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