Courtyard House: Home Alone

Three days later, Lin Yifan returned to the pharmaceutical factory.

Zhao Gang was already waiting at the door. This apprentice of Old Master Tang was now dressed in a respectable gray cotton robe, with a twenty-shot gun tucked at his waist. Upon seeing Lin Yifan, he clasped his hands in a respectful greeting: "Young Master, Chen Gongshu and the others are waiting in the backyard."

"Okay, let's go see if they're ready." He then followed Zhao Gang towards the backyard.

"By the way, Brother Zhao, is the first batch of penicillin ready for the transaction?"

Zhao Gang paused slightly, turned sideways, and lowered his voice: "It's all prepared. As you said, each customer's package is individually sealed, and the wax seal is intact. They're all in the warehouse."

Lin Yifan didn't stop, his cotton boots crunching softly on the snow. "Okay, Brother Zhao, I'll go check on things in a bit. You should also get ready; arrange for someone to deliver my belongings home when I leave."

"Young master, are you planning to go to Tianjin alone to trade with those foreign devils?"

Zhao Gang's voice was filled with obvious worry, and his brows were furrowed. He subconsciously touched the holster at his waist, a habit passed down from Grandpa Tang: when in doubt, always reach for the gun first.

"What, Brother Zhao, do you think I'm not good enough?"

Lin Yifan stopped and looked up at the man who was two heads taller than him. In the wind and snow, the tip of his nose was slightly red from the cold, but his eyes were as clear as an icy spring in a mountain stream, making people afraid to look directly at him for too long.

"It's not impossible..." Zhao Gang carefully chose his words, "I've witnessed my abilities firsthand. But Tianjin is a place where foreign devils, Japanese military police, the Green Gang, and the Military Intelligence Bureau are all deeply entrenched. What if you were alone..."

"What if what?"

"Just in case something goes wrong,"

Zhao Gang's voice lowered, "How am I going to explain this to my master? How am I going to explain this to the brothers in the factory?"

Lin Yifan suddenly smiled and reached out to pat Zhao Gang's arm. His hand was small, and when he patted Zhao Gang's thick cotton robe, it looked like a fallen leaf, yet it made the latter feel inexplicably at ease.

"Brother Zhao, don't worry, 'Ghost' will arrange for someone to follow us."

Eleven people stood in the courtyard, with Chen Gongshu at the head, followed by Xu Zheng, Liu Quande, and Zhou Dayong. Upon seeing Lin Yifan enter, they all clasped their hands in a respectful greeting. Zhou Dayong had changed into new cotton trousers, and although his face was still somewhat pale, his eyes were much more resolute than before.

"Young Master," Chen Gongshu stepped forward, handing over a folded slip of paper. "These are the addresses of the brothers' families, in Chongqing and Chengdu. There are also three brothers without families who wrote down what they want to do."

Lin Yifan took the note, didn't read it, and stuffed it into his pocket: "Mr. Chen, you'll be coming with me to Tianjin to familiarize yourself with the area. I have to go out in a couple of days and might not be able to get back in time, so the rest of the deal will depend on you."

Chen Gongshu was taken aback, then clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Yes."

"Xu Zheng, Liu Quande,"

Lin Yifan turned to the other two, "You two take two skilled fighters and head to Tianjin tomorrow. Stay at the Astor Hotel in the French Concession. Don't show yourselves until I arrive."

Liu Quande nodded, not asking any further questions. In their line of work, the less you know, the longer you live.

"Young master," Zhou Dayong suddenly spoke, his voice still a little weak, "what... what can I do?"

Lin Yifan glanced at them: "You guys stay at the pharmaceutical factory and train hard. Only by training well will you have a better chance of survival after you leave. When I'm done with my business, I'll take you to Yanshan for special training for a while."

"Training?" Zhou Dayong paused for a moment, then puffed out his chest. "Young master, which one of us hasn't rolled through gunfire and bullets? What do we need..."

"use."

Lin Yifan interrupted him, his voice not loud, but it made Zhou Dayong swallow the rest of his sentence. The boy took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, which unfolded to reveal a hand-drawn sketch—a simple human figure marked with strange symbols and lines.

"This is the 'Ghost's' fighting style."

Lin Yifan handed the blueprints to Chen Gongshu, saying, "This isn't some kind of martial arts technique; it's a method of killing. It takes a life in one move, or renders someone unable to resist. What your Military Intelligence Bureau teaches is too slow."

Chen Gongshu took the blueprints, his gaze falling on the simple, almost cold lines. There were no fancy moves; every strike was aimed at the throat, the heart, and the groin—the most lethal and easiest targets.

"Young master," he pondered, "this method..."

"It was developed through actual combat. This set of boxing techniques is called 'Black Dragon Eighteen Hands.' Once you've mastered it, every move can be fatal," Lin Yifan said.

He turned to Zhao Gang, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment: "Brother Zhao, you can also train with our guard team, but you need to make it clear to everyone that if we use these techniques against ordinary civilians..."

That is my enemy.

Zhao Gang's expression hardened, and he solemnly clasped his hands in a fist and palm salute: "Don't worry, young master, I know the factory rules. This skill is only used to protect the factory and fight the Japanese."

Lin Yifan nodded, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the courtyard. The wind and snow were intensifying, causing the cotton curtains to flutter loudly, while the charcoal fire in the brazier burned brightly, casting flickering light on everyone's faces.

"Young Master," Xu Zheng suddenly spoke, his voice extremely low, "What if... what if someone betrays us?"

Lin Yifan looked up at him, and that gaze made the hairs on the back of Xu Zheng's neck stand on end.

"Mr. Chen knows the rules."

The boy's voice was as soft as a snowflake, "How the Military Intelligence Bureau deals with traitors is the same as how 'Ghost' is dealt with. Only faster."

But the "Ghost" wouldn't commit such a heinous act as punishing entire families, unless his own family members also betrayed China.

In addition, 'Ghost' will not force you to do things you don't want to do. If you feel that following 'Ghost' is not a future, you can quit at any time.

But if anyone betrays the "Ghost" or your companions, then even if you keep your eyes open 24/7, it won't help.

Zhou Dayong subconsciously touched his neck, recalling the six bullets that had vanished into thin air three days ago, and suddenly felt a tightness in his throat.

"Go, everyone."

Lin Yifan waved his hand, "Xu Zheng and Liu Quande will set off tomorrow at Chenshi (7-9 AM). Mr. Chen, you come with me to the warehouse to inspect the goods, and then make preparations. We'll depart for Tianjin early the day after tomorrow."

The crowd dispersed, their footsteps fading into the distance in the snow. Zhao Gang then led Lin Yifan and Chen Gongshu toward the warehouse.

The warehouse is located on the basement level. When you open the warehouse door, a scent mixed with pine wax and medicinal herbs wafts out.

Zhao Gang turned on the light, and in the dim yellow light, dozens of wooden crates were neatly stacked.

"Young master, this way." Zhao Gang led the two to the innermost side, lifted a piece of oilcloth, revealing more than fifty wooden boxes underneath.

"Young master, the old man said to bring more over because Smith said he would try to prepare as much equipment as possible for us. If the equipment is not enough to offset the cost, he will buy it with gold."