Dusk passed and dawn came. When Li Bai woke up in the rising sky, he felt a splitting headache. Thinking of the drinking party last night, it seemed that he had lost miserably. He couldn't help laughing. He had wasted half his life to find a close friend who could drink more than him. God was kind to him.
"The Immortal Poet has awakened."
A clear young voice sounded in his ears, and Li Bai came to his senses. He saw the Guo brothers who had brought him home yesterday standing beside him, each holding a copper basin, soft cloth, and willow branch salt, obviously here to help him wash.
"Don't call me the immortal poet. It was just a joke by Mr. He. Don't take it seriously. Just call me Mr. Li."
Li Bai raised his hand and beckoned the two of them over. After washing up and changing his clothes, he asked, "How did I get back to my room last night?"
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