The Fitter Master in the Courtyard: Surrounded by Dead Men

Yang Ping sat on the edge of the kang for a long time, still somewhat dazed.

Who would have thought that taking three girls to Bocheng for barbecue during the May Day holiday, drinking and partying for several nights in a row, would lead to his death.

When he opened his eyes again, he had become another person in this courtyard.

"If I had known this would happen, one would have been enough..."

He smiled bitterly to himself.

In his previous life, he caught the e-commerce boom and saved a lot of money by the age of thirty. From then on, he lived a life of indulgence and often took girls out to play.

The barbecue in Bocheng was in full swing, so he drove three girls there with him.

The first few days were filled with joy, and I didn't pay attention to the occasional physical discomfort. Little did I know that after staying up all night, my life would come to an abrupt end.

Fortunately, he did not truly disappear—his soul drifted into a body with the same name.

Yang Ping is now just twenty years old and works as a level-two fitter at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

To possess such skill at such a young age is truly remarkable; only a handful of people in the entire factory, such as Jia Dongxu, can compare.

There was no one else in the house.

His mother developed an illness while pregnant with him and passed away six years ago; his father became increasingly haggard after losing his wife and did not survive three years before also passing away.

The neighborhood arranged for him to take his father's place, and he started working as an apprentice in the factory at the age of seventeen.

Its predecessor lived up to expectations, completing its three-year apprenticeship and passing the Level 2 worker assessment yesterday.

In less than a month, his status jumped two levels from apprentice to full-fledged fitter, and his monthly salary also increased from 18.5 yuan to 27.5 yuan.

However, the pain of losing her parents at a young age remained buried deep in her heart.

He passed the test yesterday, and he was overjoyed and felt that he had finally made something of himself. He specially bought wine and meat to take home, and toasted the sky again and again, murmuring to his parents in heaven: "Your son has made something of himself, so don't worry about me anymore."

Overwhelmed by grief and swallowing strong liquor too quickly, this young body couldn't withstand it.

Yang Ping took a soft breath and looked at the mottled roof.

"rest assured,"

He whispered, "From now on, I will live my life well for you."

Yang Ping sensed the natural affection that originated from this body, and his heart stirred slightly.

As for the people in the courtyard, he never really paid them any attention.

With the knowledge and cunning accumulated over two lifetimes, manipulating them is as easy as taking candy from a baby.

What he really needed to consider was how to survive peacefully in this coming era of great uncertainty and turmoil.

The original owner left behind a not-so-small estate: three houses.

The two rooms—one side room and one wing room—were the family property passed down from their ancestors; the other side room belonged to his uncle.

Many years ago, my uncle went to the Northwest and we gradually lost touch. Later, he was rightfully adopted by Yang Ping's father.

Now that his father has passed away, all three rooms have fallen into Yang Ping's name.

The tree catches the wind.

If an ordinary fitter were targeted by someone who wanted these rooms when the wind was blowing, he would likely be in serious trouble.

We need to plan ahead and handle this properly in advance.

Just as he was pondering this, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang out from the depths of his mind:

[Ding! Death Squad System successfully bound!]

[New player gift pack has been delivered. Would you like to open it now?]

coming!

Yang Ping's lips unconsciously curled up.

As expected, time travelers are never without any support.

With the system at my disposal, I can go anywhere in this world.

"Activate".

He silently recited it in his heart without the slightest hesitation.

[Ding! Gift pack opened.]

Congratulations, host, you have obtained: 100,000 loyal followers; 1,000 cubic meters of system space; permission to share the memories of loyal followers; and enhanced comprehension talent.

】

Even though Yang Ping was somewhat prepared, he was still stunned by the generous gift.

One hundred thousand death warriors! What kind of concept is that? Not to mention the few scheming and despicable people in that courtyard, even a more turbulent wave could probably be quietly calmed down by this force.

No matter what difficulties he encounters in the future, this will be his most solid trump card.

That 1,000 cubic meter system space has endless uses.

Not only is it extremely convenient for storing supplies, but it also helps him avoid many unnecessary scrutiny and searches, giving him an invisible layer of protection.

The effect of enhanced comprehension is immediate.

All the skills and techniques of fitter work flowed through his mind like water, and he came to understand them thoroughly.

He was absolutely confident that if he went to take the higher-level job assessment now, he would definitely pass it easily.

This means that his income will soon reach a new level.

The sky outside the window remained calm, but Yang Ping knew that some things had completely changed.

He exhaled softly, and a faint light quietly shone in the depths of his eyes, calm and resolute.

While the idea of ​​a suicide squad sharing memories is easy to understand literally, its actual operation remains unknown.

Yang Ping pondered to himself, knowing he could only wait and see.

"Host, please specify the location for the arrival of 100,000 assassins."

The system notification sounded again, interrupting his thoughts.

"The capital city."

He did not hesitate.

Transportation was extremely difficult in this era.

If we scatter our men across the world, by the time we meet again, it will probably be half a century later when the roads are open—such suicide missions would be meaningless.

"Ding—The fusion of 100,000 assassins is complete."

The host can determine its location through sensing.

The system's voice was calm and still.

"Integration?"

Yang Ping frowned slightly.

"To avoid disrupting the order of this world, the assassins have already integrated themselves with the people of this world."

They retain their individual identities and pasts; the only constant is their absolute loyalty to their host.

The system explained.

"Wonderful!"

A hint of a smile flashed across Yang Ping's eyes.

Since the assassins possess complete identities and social networks, there is no need for him to painstakingly manage them.

When needed, the entire net can be used by him.

At the same time, he also fully understood "memory sharing".

Meaning: He can completely absorb the memories and skills of any assassin.

This is undoubtedly a godsend.

For example, if a certain assassin is a level six fitter, Yang Ping can instantly inherit all his skills and become a highly experienced master craftsman as soon as he meets him.

Of course, he had no interest in prying into other unrelated private memories—he did not have a penchant for spying on other people's lives.

The only limitation is that sharing can only be done face-to-face.

"The assassin training panel has been activated."

A new prompt appears.

"Talent Comprehension Enhancement (All), Cost: One Million Yuan".

A phantom light screen appeared before my eyes.

[All assassins' physical condition enhanced - requires payment of one million yuan]

[The lifespan of all suicide squad members will be extended by ten years—a payment of ten million yuan is required.]

【...】

Yang Ping stared at those numbers, feeling a tightness in his throat.

The millions and tens of millions of dollars weighed down on him like a boulder, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

But then the thought changed—he had 100,000 elite warriors under his command.

If each person contributes ten or one hundred yuan, the amount will no longer be alarming.

Just now, his brief improvement in his talent had allowed him to break through two levels from the second-level fitter.

If all the assassins were to exchange for breakthroughs, all industries would experience explosive growth, not to mention the bonuses to physical fitness and lifespan.

The way to raise money is actually simple: find those scattered assassins, collect ten yuan from each of them, and the million yuan can be raised in an instant.

The only trouble is finding the person.

Fortunately, the list shows that most of these people are gathered in Beijing.

Compared to remote areas, transportation in the capital city is ultimately much more convenient.

Yang Ping closed his eyes and concentrated, beginning to sense the location of the assassins.

The next moment, he suddenly opened his eyes.

—Dozens of responses came simultaneously from inside the courtyard.

He opened each of the lists that came to mind one by one:

"Li Tiezhu, thirty-nine years old, lives in the front yard."

He works as a porter at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, and his family consists of five people.

"Xu Aimei, 37 years old, wife of Li Tiezhu, a housewife who manages the household well."

"Liu Daniu, 45 years old, resident of the front yard."

A former steel rolling mill worker, disabled due to a work injury, now makes a living by doing manual labor, with only his son for company.

"..."

Names flow through my mind like water.

Yang Ping suddenly realized that, apart from troublemakers like Yi Zhonghai, Liu Haizhong, and Yan Fugui, all the other ordinary residents in the courtyard were actually his trusted henchmen.

Yang Ping smiled inwardly. The situation was like a hunter who had already laid a net, just waiting for the ignorant and arrogant beasts to stumble in and be captured.

He suppressed the urge to immediately summon those shadowy figures hiding in the dark.

Now is not the time.

They should just lie low as usual, without contacting or disturbing each other.

When the moment truly comes when the blade needs to be drawn, their opportunity to appear will naturally arise.

Once his thoughts had settled, he sketched out the locations of the others in his mind.

Some people linger near this intricate compound, while others stand guard on the outskirts of the capital, like silent boundary markers.

Fortunately, no one had strayed far from the city's boundaries; even the furthest person could only meet within a seven or eight-hour walk.

A hollow rumbling in his stomach interrupted his senses.

I need to find something to eat.

The factory area was quiet on the day off, but the courtyard came alive.

A few idle residents gathered in the courtyard, chatting about everyday matters.

Yang Ping pushed open her slightly old wooden door. The click of the lock as she entered the doorway brought her to the sight of her second aunt and her youngest son, Liu Guangfu, chatting.

"Hey, Yang Ping, it's almost noon and you're still not out. How can a young person live like this?"

When the second aunt caught sight of him, her words carried a hint of elder-like admonition.

"Working in the factory is not easy, so when you finally get a day off, you naturally want to sleep soundly."

Yang Ping wore his usual smile, speaking in a calm and unhurried tone.

In my memory, Aunt Erda was just an ordinary neighbor who would nod when we met. She wasn't particularly warm to me, and I never got anything out of her.

But her husband, Liu Haizhong, was a completely different person. He loved to put on airs and would often order Yang Ping around doing this and that, sweeping the yard, cleaning the Liu family's house, and other trivial matters that had nothing to do with him.

The lonely and timid "him" from the past.

Because of the three sons of the Liu family who were eyeing him covetously, he always swallowed his anger and accepted his fate passively.

Now Yang Ping knew perfectly well: this second aunt seemed ordinary, but she was probably just like Liu Haizhong, who loved to show off.

Otherwise, why would she point fingers at him the moment they met, as if even how he lived his life required her approval?

The morning sunlight slanted into the courtyard and fell on the blue brick ground.

The second aunt stood by the threshold, one hand on Liu Guangfu's thin shoulder, her voice low but clear: "Guangfu, you have to keep an eye on your older brother Guangqi."

Even on his days off, he would go out to work early in the morning, and he was never lazy.

Don't adopt that idle, lazy attitude.

As soon as she finished speaking, a clear voice came from under the door of the opposite house.

"Why would you learn from me?"

Yang Ping leaned against the door frame, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I entered the factory at seventeen and became a second-level fitter at twenty."

You should learn from your son Guangqi—he's twenty-two and still hasn't secured a proper job.

He spoke slowly and deliberately, yet his words were like a fine needle, gently and skillfully piercing through that thin layer of skin.

He might have tolerated it before, but not anymore.

Pointing fingers at someone to their face, do you really think he's a clay figure without a temper?

It is 1960 now.

Liu Guangqi couldn't keep up with his studies when he was in school, so he repeated a grade for two years and only barely graduated from high school last year.

Unfortunately, the political situation changed, and given his already poor academic performance, he never got the chance to be assigned a good job, and could only do temporary tasks sporadically.

Even so, Liu Guangqi remains the most presentable member of the Liu family.

No matter how useless he is, he is still a high school student—in this day and age, that status is enough for Liu Haizhong to cherish his eldest son dearly.

"You, you..."

Aunt Er's face flushed red instantly. Her finger trembled as she pointed at Yang Ping, her lips quivering for a long time, but she couldn't utter a single coherent sentence.