Courtyard House: Home Alone

Lin Yifan slept until 2 a.m., checked his watch, quickly got up, dressed, and quietly left the east courtyard. Once outside, he used all his lightness skill to run swiftly towards the temporary warehouse.

Upon arriving at the warehouse, he first used his spiritual power to check the surroundings. Seeing that there was nothing unusual, he sent out weapons, ammunition, and food supplies that had been prepared in the space warehouse.

It took him a full hour to move all the weapons and supplies for 20,000 people into the temporary warehouse. After a final check to make sure nothing was missing, he sat down at the warehouse entrance to wait.

It's almost 4 a.m. now, and Stone and the others should be arriving soon.

More than half an hour later, very light footsteps came from afar, sounding like twenty or thirty people. Lin Yifan stood up, dusted himself off, and whispered towards the direction of the sound, "Over here."

Stone emerged from the darkness with a group of burly men, each carrying a long gun, and four of them also carrying four light machine guns. Seeing Lin Yifan standing alone at the warehouse entrance, Stone paused, "Young Master Lin, why are you personally guarding this place?"

"The items have just been put in, so we need to oversee the handover." Lin Yifan gestured with his chin towards the warehouse, took out a list he had prepared beforehand from his pocket, and handed it to Shi Tou.

"You've come at the right time. Here's the list of supplies. I reckon the security team will send people over early this morning. Brother Stone, try your best to cooperate with them and get the supplies out of there as soon as possible."

If they want to use this temporary warehouse, let them arrange for someone to guard it themselves.

Stone took the list and glanced at it in the dim starlight. The densely packed numbers on the paper made his pupils shrink slightly. Equipment for 20,000 people—this was a larger undertaking than he had imagined.

"Don't worry, Young Master Lin, my master has already given instructions."

He folded the list and stuffed it into his pocket, then waved behind him, "Er Gouzi, take a few men and set up lookouts around the warehouse. Lao Zhou, you take the machine gunner to the roof; if there's any movement, call out."

More than twenty dark figures silently dispersed, like water droplets seeping into the earth. Lin Yifan watched their movements and nodded slightly. Tang Baolin's choice of men was indeed excellent; although dressed in civilian clothes, they acted with the efficiency of soldiers.

"Brother Stone, I have something to attend to, so I'll be leaving now." He cupped his hands in a respectful gesture towards Stone. "I'm leaving things here to you. If the security team arrives, hand over the reins to them immediately."

"You go about your business," Shi Tou said in a low voice. "My master also asked me to ask about Tianjin... should we send a few people from our side to follow them?"

"Need not."

Lin Yifan's voice was soft, "Too many people will only draw attention. Tell Grandpa Tang to keep a close eye on things in Beiping; that's more important than anything else."

Having said that, he moved swiftly, already several feet away. Stone blinked, and when he looked again, he only saw a dark shadow flash on the wall before disappearing without a trace.

"What superb lightness skill..." a man beside him murmured.

"Shut up."

Stone growled, "Get to work. If even one bullet gets lost from this warehouse, twenty-odd heads wouldn't be enough to compensate for it."

When Lin Yifan returned to Nanluoguxiang, the sky was already turning a pale blue. He didn't go through the main gate, but instead climbed over the wall from the backyard, landing lightly on his toes to dissipate the impact, making no sound.

The light was still on in the wing room of the east courtyard. He frowned slightly, pushed open the door, and saw Wenxiu dozing on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), clutching an unfinished garment in her hand. Xia Yan and Dong'er were huddled together at the other end, sleeping in various positions.

Hearing the door open, Wenxiu woke up with a start. Seeing it was him, she breathed a sigh of relief: "Young Master, didn't you say you wouldn't be back until dawn? It's not time yet."

"I've finished my business, so I'm coming back early."

"The fire in the main house went out long ago."

Wenxiu rubbed her eyes. "Why don't you just sleep here for a while?"

"Okay." Lin Yifan flopped down on the kang (heated brick bed), putting his arm behind his head. "Sister Wenxiu, if anyone comes looking for me after dawn, tell them I'm sick and won't see anyone. Only call me if it's something very urgent."

Wenxiu wanted to say something more, but she heard that his breathing had become even. She stared blankly at the boy's pale face for a while, sighed softly, and dimmed the oil lamp a little.

Lin Yifan slept very lightly. His dreams were filled with bizarre and fantastical scenes—sometimes the skyscrapers of his past life, sometimes the ruins of this life. The two timelines overlapped and intertwined before his eyes, making it impossible for him to distinguish whether he was the corporate slave working overtime in the office building or the "ghost" fighting in the chaos of the world.

When he woke up, it was already bright outside. He glanced at his watch; it was 10:40. He got off the kang (a heated brick bed). Wenxiu and the other two had already left sometime earlier. On the kang table were a bowl of millet porridge, two boiled eggs, and a dish of pickled radishes.

He finished eating in a few bites and returned to the main room. He dragged a wicker trunk out from under the bed. He took out a few pieces of clothing from the trunk and put them into his spatial storage.

Then he went to the kitchen and saw that the three maids were there. He said to Wenxiu, "I have to go out for a while now. Don't wait for me for lunch. I estimate I won't be back until three or four in the afternoon."

Wenxiu was stirring the batter in the pot at the stove when she heard this, her hand paused, and the wooden spoon tapped crisply against the edge of the pot. She didn't turn around, but her voice softened slightly: "Going out again? You just got back last night, barely slept for a few hours."

"It's urgent." He said as he walked outside.

The space-static warehouse is running low on delayed grenades and bullets. I don't know what I'll encounter on this trip to Tianjin, so I need to stock up.

He didn't stop walking, and as he passed through the moon gate, he bumped into Xia Yan returning from the cellar with a piece of cured meat. Seeing his hurried pace, the maid stepped aside, but didn't stop talking: "Young master, you're always walking like that; anyone who didn't know better would think our family runs a security escort agency."

Lin Yifan didn't reply, but instead took out a few silver dollars from his pocket and tossed them over: "Go to Wang's shop on the front street, buy a few pounds of braised beef and some roast chicken, and a jar of Erguotou liquor. I need it for tonight."

Xia Yan hurriedly caught it, her eyes wide with surprise: "Beef, roast chicken? A whole jar? How many people are you inviting?"

"Just buy whatever you want, you'll need to eat at home too." His voice came from outside as he stepped out of the courtyard gate.

He drove to the foot of West Mountain, parked the car, and used his light-footed skills to run into the mountain.

It took him more than four hours to get back to the main road. He collected more than 30,000 rounds of live ammunition from the stationary warehouse, as well as more than 1,000 hand grenades with a three-second delay.

The main problem is that collecting bullets takes time; the grenades are just a matter of a thought in space.

I checked the time; it was already past 3 p.m. I wouldn't get home until 4 p.m., and I figured Chen Gongshu would have to deliver the medicine home by then.

So he hurriedly released the car from his spatial storage, started the engine, and drove home.

As the car passed Xizhimen, the sun was already setting, its orange-red light slanting across the gray walls, making the outline of Beiping (Beijing) resemble a faded New Year's painting. Lin Yifan floored the accelerator, the engine emitting a labored roar that drew the attention of passersby.

A truck was already parked in the shadow of the locust trees in Nanluoguxiang. He frowned, slowed down, and breathed a sigh of relief after seeing the license plate. It was a truck from the pharmaceutical company.