Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

On the morning of the 27th day of the twelfth lunar month, just as dawn was breaking, shouts and cries rose from the open space in the backyard of the courtyard house.

He Yuzhu stood in a horse stance, arms outstretched, practicing the "Supporting Hammer" and "Probing Horse Palm" techniques of Bajiquan. After this period of arduous training and the transformation brought about by the Marrow Cleansing Pill, his movements had become quite disciplined, his punches and kicks carried the wind, his lower body was stable, and the reckless spirit between his brows had been replaced by a calm and sharp aura. Sweat evaporated into white mist in the cold air, surging with his breath and movements.

In another corner of the courtyard, He Daqing was also practicing his stance, but it was the most basic Xingyi Hunyuan Zhuang. His movements were clumsy and stiff, his legs trembled, and sweat beaded on his forehead; he was clearly struggling. It seemed that the Xingyi Quan skill card he had given his elder brother before leaving hadn't been used on him. What a waste of his Marrow Cleansing Pill. He Yuzhu finished his set, stopped, and adjusted his breathing. He glanced at his father, walked over, and patted him on the back: "Sink your waist down a little more, let your Qi flow downwards, don't just use your legs to support you."

He Daqing gritted his teeth and adjusted his posture, the veins on his forehead throbbing slightly. Ever since his younger brother made him practice with Zhu Zi that day, he dared not slack off in the slightest. This standing meditation seemed simple, but in reality, it was extremely physically and mentally taxing. Every breath felt like a battle against the aches and numbness throughout his body. But strangely, after each session, although he was exhausted, his body had a strange sense of clarity. His internal organs, which had been eroded by years of womanizing and decadence, seemed to be slowly awakening.

He understood that his younger brother was helping him "clean up this mess." This sternness, ironically, calmed his bewildered heart a little—at least, his brother was still willing to take care of him and hadn't really chased him away like a stray dog.

In the main room, He Damin sat cross-legged on the kang (a heated brick bed), his eyes slightly closed. The morning light filtered through the paper window, casting a soft outline on his face. His consciousness, however, had already pierced through the roof tiles and courtyard walls, wandering in a wider world.

From the direction of the Korean Peninsula, bloodshed, smoke, bitter cold, and the clashing of steel... all these auras mingled into a vast, turbulent torrent of energy, which his Nascent Soul could vaguely detect even from thousands of miles away. There, every moment, was a battle between life and death, a contest between will and steel, a tempering of ice and fire.

Deep within his consciousness, the Soul Refining Banner, suspended at the core of the Yin-Yang space, emitted a profound light, faintly conveying a palpitation bordering on "desire." While the Soul Refining Banner's power had surged after its advancement, its very nature dictated an almost instinctive thirst for soul energy—especially fresh, powerful souls brimming with intense emotions. On that battlefield, thousands upon thousands of lives were perishing every second; fear, anger, despair, madness, bravery, resolute determination… all these extreme soul fluctuations served as the finest fuel. If it could absorb a large amount, the Soul Refining Banner's growth rate would far exceed ordinary nurturing, potentially even reaching the edge of its sixth advancement.

He Damin's divine sense swept over the Soul Refining Banner, sensing the pulsation within it. He remained silent for a moment.

If one were to follow the cultivator's most instinctive principle of "self-interest," then secretly infiltrating the battlefield at this moment, cautiously and covertly collecting the souls that are about to dissipate or have already left the body on the edge of the fighting, would undoubtedly be the fastest shortcut to upgrading magical artifacts and even nourishing one's own Yang spirit. War is inherently a matter of life and death; what harm is there in taking the souls of those allied soldiers?

however……

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the gradually brightening sky outside the window, as if it could penetrate thousands of miles to see the ice sculptures on the shore of Changjin Lake, the cracked lips and determined eyes in the tunnels of Shangganling, and the young faces of those who used rudimentary equipment to fight against the torrent of steel.

"The war to establish a nation." He uttered the four words in a low voice, barely audible in the quiet room.

This war was more than just a war to aid Korea. It was a war that declared to the world that this ancient nation had risen again, a tragic epic in which a generation paved the way for peace for future generations with their blood and flesh. Its significance transcends simple victory or defeat; it concerns the fate of the nation, its dignity, and the rise of a great power for decades or even centuries to come.

If he were to seize a large amount of soul energy on the battlefield (even if it's mainly from the enemy) for personal gain and to quickly upgrade a magical artifact, no matter how discreetly he did it, it would inevitably have a subtle impact on the battlefield's fortune and the unseen cause and effect. Moreover, such behavior, which is almost like "harvesting," contradicts some deep-seated principles within him that he may not even fully understand himself.

"Cultivation is not only about cultivating strength, but also about cultivating the heart." He Damin silently thought to himself, "If one seeks personal gain and ignores the life-and-death struggle that is taking place on the land beneath one's feet, which concerns the future of hundreds of millions of compatriots, and may even disturb the secrets of heaven for one's own selfish reasons... then it is better not to cultivate this path."

He slowly calmed and suppressed the trembling of the Soul Refining Banner with his powerful will. No matter how important a magic weapon is, it is only a protective tool, not the Dao itself.

"But it's not that we can't do anything." His eyes narrowed slightly.

Transporting supplies and shifting the logistical balance so that frontline soldiers have more ammunition, more effective medicine, and warmer winter clothing to fight is the kind of "equal" support he can and should provide without directly interfering with the flow of battle. It allows both sides to determine victory or defeat based on will, tactics, and courage under relatively equal material conditions. This is both a defense of homeland and a respect for the very meaning of the war itself.

"It seems that after the 'gift' in Shenyang, we need to prepare a few more 'surprises' closer to the front lines." He Damin already had a plan in mind. This time, the distribution should be more dispersed and more concealed. They could even take advantage of the different unit numbers and supply routes within the coalition forces to create the illusion of "internal chaos," making this "anonymous aid" more elusive and safer.

My thoughts drifted from the distant battlefield back to the present.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the walls, landing in the direction of the east wing of the central courtyard. The Jia family.

The original plan was to let Jia Dongxu "naturally" pass away, ending his short and absurd life. After Qin Huairu married him and gave birth to "Thief Saint" Banggeng, Jia Dongxu would "accidentally" die, leaving Jia Zhangshi to raise her widowed daughter-in-law and young grandson, tasting the bitter fruit of her own actions over the long years. This was a slow, agonizing punishment, making time the cruelest form of torture.

But now, He Daqing is back. This character, who had originally been removed from the story of the courtyard house, has been brought back because of He Damin's intervention, becoming an unstable pawn and bringing new variables.

He Daqing needs someone to keep him in check, a new and stable family relationship to tether his wavering heart, and a place to settle his remaining years. And Qin Huairu… that woman in the original story, whose brilliance was worn away by life, becoming shrewd, calculating, and even somewhat pathetic—did her life really have to begin with stepping into the Jia family's fiery pit?

He Damin tapped the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) lightly with his index finger. Sometimes, changing the trajectory of a person's destiny only requires a gentle push at a crucial juncture.

"He Daqing paired with Qin Huairu?" The thought arose, and even he himself found it somewhat absurd. A cook nearing forty, down on his luck, with a stain of abandoning his family, and a pretty, poor but decent-looking rural girl under twenty. They seemed like an impossible match.

But so what? Why should He Damin follow all worldly norms in his actions? He Daqing is his blood brother. No matter how outrageous he was in the past, now that he's back and living under his rules, he has to see it through. Giving him a home, a wife, so that he has something to do, someone to take care of him, and something to look forward to in his later years is better than letting him continue to rot in regret and fear, or being misled by others and causing new trouble one day.

As for the Jia family... who will Jia Dongxu marry after losing Qin Huairu? Will there be any other changes? What will happen to Madam Jia Zhang without her intended daughter-in-law? These uncertainties make the future more interesting, don't they? Perhaps, Madam Jia Zhang's constant anticipation of her son getting married, yet her hope that the "easy-to-manipulate" Qin Huairu will never come, watching her efforts come to naught, watching her slowly suffer, is also a kind of punishment.

Moreover, from a practical standpoint, if He Daqing married Qin Huairu, the family would have a woman capable of managing household chores and caring for Yushui. While Chen Xueru is good, she is, after all, an unmarried woman and a career woman; she can't possibly be constantly revolving around the He family. Yushui needs more meticulous care from an older female elder, and Zhuzi will also need someone to arrange his future marriage. Qin Huairu's diligence and domestic skills were evident in the original storyline, only distorted by circumstances. If she had entered the He family from the beginning, under He Damin's watchful eye, with clear rules and a relatively comfortable environment, perhaps she could have taken a different path.

Weighing the pros and cons, his mind raced. In just a few breaths, He Damin had made his decision.

He got up from the kang (a heated brick bed) and pushed open the door. In the courtyard, He Yuzhu had finished his practice and was wiping his sweat with a towel. He Daqing also stood up unsteadily, panting heavily, his whole body soaked in sweat.

"Zhu Zi, go make breakfast," He Damin ordered, then looked at He Daqing, "You, come here."

He Daqing hurried over, stood with his hands at his sides, and asked somewhat nervously, "Damin, is something wrong?"

He Damin sized him up. He had a stubble beard, greasy and matted hair, and the cuffs of his old cotton-padded jacket were shiny with oil, emitting an unpleasant odor mixed with sweat, smoke, and kitchen grease. His eyes were timid, his back was slightly hunched, and his whole demeanor exuded the dejection of a downtrodden middle-aged man from the lower class.

"You can't do it like this," He Damin said directly. "Starting today, you have three days to get yourself properly dressed."

He Daqing was taken aback: "Pack...pack up?"

"First, go find a barber and get your hair cut and your beard shaved clean. Second, go to a public bathhouse, take a good soak, scrub yourself clean, and get rid of that smell. Third," He Damin paused, "go buy some decent clothes. The material should be good, the style should be new, don't skimp on the money."

He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket (which was actually a miniature world), weighed it in his hand, and handed it to He Daqing: "Inside are twenty silver dollars and five hundred thousand old dollars. That should be enough."

He Daqing hurriedly took it, finding it heavy in his hand. He could hardly believe his ears and eyes. Twenty silver dollars! Five hundred thousand old dollars! This... this was enough for an ordinary family to live on for more than half a year! His younger brother had just casually given it to him, telling him to... take care of himself?

"Da-Da-Min, this...this much money, just for me to tidy up?" He Daqing stammered.

"Just go, I'm telling you." He Damin's tone left no room for argument. "Also, find a reliable matchmaker, give her a generous tip, and have her arrange a marriage for you."

"Marriage?!" He Daqing was completely stunned, his eyes wide open. "Me? At my age, with these conditions, who would marry me? I'd better not ruin someone else's life..." He was self-aware.

"Just go when I tell you to," He Damin interrupted him. "The girl is from Qin Family Village in Tong County, named Qin Huairu. She should be eighteen or nineteen years old this year, pretty, and hardworking. Have a matchmaker go and arrange things. Be sincere and courteous. If the other family has any requests, try your best to meet them as long as they're not excessive. If you don't have enough money, just tell me."

He Daqing stared, his mouth agape, unable to close it for a long time. His younger brother had not only given him a large sum of money to clean up the mess, but had even chosen a wife for him? He even knew her name, address, and age? This…this was too much…

"Remember, this is a proper life." He Damin looked at him, his eyes calm yet profound. "Once you're married, settle down and live a peaceful life. Keep all those past scumbag deeds to yourself. Treat your wife well, manage the household properly, help Zhuzi watch the rainwater, and when the construction site opens, you'll have a decent job. If you dare to cause trouble again..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the chill in his voice sent a shiver down He Daqing's spine.

"I wouldn't dare! Absolutely not!" He Daqing hurriedly swore, "I will... I will definitely live a good life! Damin, don't worry, this time I will definitely not let you down!" His voice trembled with excitement. His brother was... giving him a chance to start anew? A real family?

"Alright, go take care of the first few things. As for the matchmaker, I'll ask Xue Ru tomorrow if she knows anyone reliable, or maybe she can help you find someone." He Damin waved his hand. "Go ahead."

He Daqing gripped the money pouch tightly, nodded emphatically, and turned to leave. His steps were surprisingly lighter, and his back unconsciously straightened. A haircut, a bath, new clothes… and he was even getting married! It felt like a dream!

Watching He Daqing's somewhat excited yet restrained figure disappear behind the moon gate, He Yuzhu poked his head out from the kitchen, his expression complex: "Uncle, are you really going to find my dad... a wife? From Qin Family Village?"

"What? You have a problem with that?" He Damin looked at him.

"No, no objection." He Yuzhu scratched his head. "It's just... a bit sudden. Do you know Qin Huairu?"

"I've heard of her," He Damin said casually. "She's a good housekeeper. Your father needs someone to look after him, and Yushui needs an aunt to take care of her. Having another hardworking person in the family isn't a bad thing."

He Yuzhu thought for a moment and nodded: "That's true. Anyway, with you here, he can't really cause any trouble." He had long since given up on that father, but if he could have a peaceful second half of his life, it might really be a good thing for Yushui and for this family.

He Damin said no more and turned to go back into the house. He walked to the window, looked at the gradually brightening sky, and his thoughts drifted away again.

The flames of war in Korea, the intrigues within the courtyard house, personal cultivation, the growth of magical artifacts, the future of the nation… countless threads intertwine, forming an incredibly complex web. And he stands at a certain node in this web; every movement he makes could trigger unexpected ripples.

"Balance and choice..." he murmured to himself.

Maintaining balance on the edge of a battlefield of ice and fire, choosing between personal gain and national duty, finding the right balance between predetermined fate and proactive intervention—this, perhaps, is part of his current cultivation, a test of mind and wisdom far more demanding than mere seclusion and ascetic practice.

On the 27th day of the twelfth lunar month, the sun finally rose above the horizon, its golden-red rays bathing the gray-tiled roofs of the courtyard house and illuminating He Damin's serene profile.