Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Watching the two children wolf down their food, the tenderness that had just been awakened in He Damin's heart gradually settled into a more solid sense of responsibility. The dilapidated and cold interior, the musty smell and helplessness permeating the air, and the children's thin, tattered clothes all silently told of the suffering they had endured over the past eight years. "Eat slowly, it's all for you," he said calmly, watching He Yuzhu carefully lick the last crumbs of the sesame seed cake into his mouth, and then watching little Yushui hold the sesame seed cake, bigger than her face, in both hands, taking quick bites, the oil from the soy sauce glistening on her little face, making her face seem a little more alive. After both children had finished eating, He Yushui even let out a small, satisfied burp before He Damin spoke again.

"Zhu Zi," he looked at the boy, who had calmed down a bit but whose eyes were still red, "Uncle went out to buy some food and supplies. You stay here and clean this house first." His gaze swept over the dusty floor, the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), and the clutter piled in the corner. "It's too dirty. It's uncomfortable to live in, and it's easy to get sick."

He Yuzhu paused, glancing instinctively at the filthy room, his face slightly flushed. Before, he and his sister were lucky to have anything to eat and a place to curl up; cleanliness was never a concern. But now that his uncle was back, bringing them such delicious white flour pancakes and meat… He nodded vigorously, his voice still hoarse from crying, but brimming with energy: “Yes! Uncle, don’t worry, I’ll clean it up right away! I promise I’ll make it spotless!”

"Yushui," He Damin looked at his little niece who was staring at him with wide eyes, "help your brother wipe the table, okay?" He Yushui looked at her uncle, then at her brother, nodded obediently, and said softly, "Okay."

He Damin stood up, said nothing more, and turned to open the door. Outside, it was completely dark, and dim yellow light shone from the windows of each household in the courtyard. There seemed to be faint voices coming from the direction of the Yi family in the middle courtyard, probably people from the factory or the neighborhood still helping out. He ignored them, walked straight through the middle courtyard, and headed out of the courtyard.

As soon as his figure disappeared outside the hanging flower gate, near the moon gate connecting the backyard and the middle courtyard, several figures who had been pretending to be busy at their doorsteps or by the water taps immediately gathered together, lowered their voices, and began a new round of discussion. "Did you see him? The second son of the He family is really back!" It was Xu's wife, who lived next to the back building, who spoke, her tone full of surprise. "He's dressed a bit strangely, but his appearance and demeanor, tsk, are really different from the people in the courtyard."

"That's right!" another slightly older woman chimed in. "I saw it just now, that boy Zhuzi rushed over and hugged me, crying so pitifully! Oh, it's so sad to think about him, without parents for so long..." "Now that he has elders to support him, life should be a little better." Someone sighed, "That boy, before, he really didn't know where his next meal would come from, it was heartbreaking to see. And Xiaoyushui, even more so, she's become as thin as a kitten in such a short time."

Just then, Jia Zhangshi came out of her own house (which occupied the east wing of the He family's house) carrying an enamel basin, seemingly to pour water, and happened to overhear these words. She paused, glanced with her triangular eyes towards the main house of the He family, snorted, but her voice was several tones lower than usual, carrying a deliberately suppressed sarcasm: "Hmph, an elder? Who knows what this suddenly appearing 'elder' is up to? So many years without a word, who knows what he's been doing in the mountains? Judging from his clothes and appearance, he doesn't seem like a respectable person! Besides, so what if he comes back? A cook's brother, what can he do? Can he compare to Master Yi's skills?" Although she said this, her movements as she poured the water were noticeably lighter, and a trace of barely perceptible fear was hidden in her eyes. With Yi Zhonghai dead, the little bit of confidence she had in bullying the He family's children—relying on the Yi family's power (or rather, the convenience she gained from Yi Zhonghai needing her to look after and scheme against the He family's children)—seemed to have dissipated considerably with the accident. The second son of the He family… she vaguely remembered some rumors about him from back then, and the strangeness of her own husband Jia Youcai's inexplicable death… She shuddered, quickly grabbed the empty basin, and slipped back into the house, closing the door behind her.

Her unusual "low profile" naturally caught the attention of those who were paying attention. Liu's wife (Liu Haizhong's wife) had just returned from helping out at the Yi family's house in the middle courtyard. She was standing at her own doorway, brushing off non-existent dust, but her ears were perked up, listening to the gossip in the backyard. Seeing that Jia Zhangshi had slipped away, she slowly walked over, her face bearing an expression that was a mixture of "insider" and "helpful."

"If you ask me, the return of the second son of the He family is ultimately a good thing for Zhu Zi and his sister." She spoke, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for everyone around to hear. "The children finally have a proper elder to look after them. Before... sigh, even if we wanted to help, there was always a barrier between us, and we were willing but unable to help, weren't we? Besides, Old Yi had already put in a good word for us!" She spoke eloquently, both distancing herself from the awkwardness of her family's past "lack of care" for the He family's children and appearing reasonable.

Yan Bugui, who lived in the back house of the front courtyard and had just returned from get off work, was pushing his bicycle, which made noise everywhere except for the bell, when he heard the discussion. He stopped, adjusted his glasses, and asked curiously, "Sister Liu, are you talking about... He Daqing's younger brother? The one who just passed away?" Yan Bugui had only moved into this courtyard after the liberation and didn't know much about the He family's past.

"That's him!" Sister-in-law Liu perked up immediately when someone asked, lowering her voice with a hint of sharing a secret. "Teacher Yan, you moved in later, so you didn't know. The second son of the He family, named He Damin, is He Daqing's brother. He also studied cooking in his younger days, and his skills are said to be even better than his brother's! As for him... he seems amiable, but back in the courtyard, he was quite the troublemaker..." She paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully, "...a man of his own mind, not someone to be trifled with. Later, for some reason, he said he went to Tianjin to study cooking, and he was gone for eight or nine years without a word. Everyone thought... cough, but unexpectedly, he came back safe and sound! And coincidentally, he came back on the very day Master Yi had his accident."

She deliberately emphasized the word "coincidentally," her eyes flashing with a hint of cunning and calculation. Yi Zhonghai was dead, and the compound was without its pillar of support (at least on the surface). The neighborhood committee would likely be selecting a liaison officer soon. Her husband, Old Liu, was skilled and experienced, making him one of the most promising candidates. But now He Damin was back, and the He family wasn't exactly a small household in the compound (at least their house was there). This He Damin didn't seem like someone to be trifled with... She needed to investigate beforehand and also lay the groundwork among the neighbors, suggesting that her husband, Old Liu, was the most suitable person to "uphold justice."

Yan Bugui listened thoughtfully, his eyes darting around behind his glasses. He was a primary school teacher, shrewd and observant. He had glanced at He Damin as he walked by; the man's demeanor was indeed unusual, unlike that of an ordinary worker or citizen. Now, hearing what Liu's wife said, his mind started racing. The He family… it seemed he would have to keep a closer eye on them in the future.

He Damin's divine sense was like an invisible net, having already captured all the hushed discussions, the flickering eyes, and the subtle thoughts. But his expression remained unchanged as he calmly walked out of Nanluoguxiang and turned into a quieter, unlit alleyway nearby.

High walls lined both sides of the alley, with piles of odds and ends in the corners. The darkness was thick with the scent of dust and night dew. After confirming that no one was around, not even cats or dogs, He Damin's mind stirred.

Without a sound, a pile of things appeared out of thin air in the open space before him. Two bulging old burlap sacks, filled with fine white flour, its grains so fine they gleamed a soft, off-white in the dim light. A ceramic jar, weighing about ten pounds, contained clear peanut oil, its opening tightly sealed. Several paper packets of varying sizes, containing salt, soy sauce paste, vinegar essence, and a small packet of precious white sugar. A thick, fluffy new cotton quilt, wrapped in a coarse blue cloth. And several sets of neatly folded clothes.

Most of these supplies came from his own little world's reserves. The Japanese and puppet regime's warehouses and trading houses, which he had swept through North and Northeast China, had taken a massive amount of supplies into his little world, where time had almost stopped, preserving them perfectly. The flour, grains, oils, and seasonings were all high-quality goods captured at the time. The cotton quilts were purchased earlier in Taiyuan and Baoding, prepared for any potential needs.

As for those few sets of clothes, they were somewhat special. They were several sets of children's and teenagers' clothing that were neither new nor old, and clearly Japanese in style—dark blue stand-up collar school uniforms (similar to "tsukigami"), thick corduroy trousers, and even two pairs of sturdy leather school shoes. These were items he had casually taken from the warehouse of a large Japanese-owned trading company when he busted it in Fengtian years ago; they were goods that the company had stockpiled for sale. At the time, he thought they might be useful, so he kept them. Now, although the style was different from the Lenin suits and Zhongshan suits that were popular at the time, the materials were sturdy, the warmth was good, and they looked relatively "stylish" and "respectable," which would be perfect for replacing the worn-out, thin, patched-up "family-made clothes" worn by Zhuzi and Yushui. Although they might attract attention, He Damin didn't care. He had plenty of ways to explain their origin (for example, he could say that he traded them with "passing merchants" in the mountains using game), the key was to make sure the children were warm and comfortable.

He placed the burlap sack, oil can, and spice packet into two large bamboo baskets (also taken from the Little World shopping mall), rolled up the quilt and tucked it under his arm, and wrapped several sets of clothes in a clean coarse cloth bundle, carrying it in his other hand. After tidying up, he checked again to make sure no one was around, then carrying his "shopping spoils" that would make any family envious, he walked out of the alley, re-entered the sparse crowd under the dim streetlights, and strolled unhurriedly towards No. 95, Nanluoguxiang.

His return, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, is creating ripples that are spreading outwards in this ancient courtyard. Some see hope, some feel threatened, some are calculating gains and losses, and others are watching coldly.

For He Yuzhu and He Yushui, this cold autumn night, thanks to their uncle's return, the long-awaited hearty meal, and the clean bedding and warm clothes they would soon have, seemed to finally bring a glimmer of genuine light into their lives. He Damin's shadow stretched long under the dim streetlights.