"Ha ha ha ha!" Li Bai burst into laughter, "Gu, you're drunk, the land here is the emperor's abode, the mountains are the dragon and tiger's den, we're clearly in Jinling!"
After his laughter, he collapsed with a clatter, those in the know understood he was drunk, those not in the know might think he'd been taken out by a sniper.
"Jinling? Yes, I'm in Jinling, here as a tourist." Gu Ran came to, as if he really had just been drunk.
As his mood settled, he looked down at the dead-drunk Li Bai: "Mr. Li, what is it you need from me this time?"
"Do me a favor." Li Bai's eyes remained closed as if he were talking in his sleep.
"What favor?"
"Write a poem for me in front of the Confucius Temple."
"No way."
"Just say it was Li Bai who asked you to write it."
"That's even less likely." Gu Ran refused resolutely.
Li Bai opened his eyes, peering at Gu Ran: "If I were still alive, I'd write a poem to curse you, making sure your name lived in infamy."