Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

On the 20th day of the twelfth lunar month, at the headquarters of the North China Area Army, the conference room was filled with smoke. A dozen or so officers of general rank sat on either side of a long table, their faces ashen. On the map of Beiping's defenses hanging on the wall, a dozen or so scarlet crosses were glaringly obvious—each mark representing the location of a "bizarre death."

"Gentlemen," the lieutenant general at the head of the table spoke in a deep, iron voice, "since the beginning of this month, there have been 27 unnatural deaths in Beiping, totaling 183 people. Among them are 69 Imperial Guards and soldiers, 21 Gendarmerie members, and 93 members of the Security Forces and Detective Unit." He paused for a moment, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room: "Even more serious is the theft from the Yongdingmen Railway Station warehouse, with losses exceeding eight million yen. No signs of forced entry were found at the scene, no tire tracks, and not even any witnesses. 130 tons of grain, 15 tons of medicine, along with a large quantity of munitions, simply vanished into thin air." A deathly silence instantly enveloped the conference room.

"General, could it be an inside job?" a major couldn't help but break the silence. "Do you think we didn't investigate thoroughly?" the general sneered. "All personnel on duty that night underwent the most rigorous interrogation, even torture, and it turns out they knew nothing."

Another colonel frowned: "Could it be a special operations team from Chongqing? Or... the Soviets?"

"Unlikely," the intelligence chief shook his head. "There were no signs of gunfire at any of the death scenes. The victims were either precisely shot in the heart or between the eyebrows, or died in bizarre ways as if their souls had been drained—definitely not the work of unconventional forces."

Silence fell over the meeting room once more. The word "bizarre" had been repeatedly mentioned today. Since the beginning of the month, strange things had been happening frequently in Beiping: some of the dead were found with no visible injuries, but their expressions were distorted with terror; some suddenly went berserk, attacking their companions before dying; and even more bizarrely, personal belongings were scattered around the bodies, with the murderer having taken nothing. Coupled with the warehouse theft, the situation became increasingly perplexing.

"General," the intelligence chief hesitated for a moment, "the forensic report shows that some of the victims' brains have abnormally shrunk, as if... they've been drained dry by something." "Drained dry?" The general frowned. "Exactly. That state is similar to the legendary 'soul-stealing'."

Several gasps of astonishment filled the room. These officers, though mostly materialists, had heard of Japanese Onmyoji legends and Chinese spiritual practitioners. If such entities were indeed involved, conventional troops would be helpless.

"It seems we need to involve professionals." The general pondered for a moment. "Send a telegram to the Kwantung Army headquarters requesting the dispatch of a special investigation team. Specifically request Ms. Yoshiko Kawashima; she grew up in China, is familiar with the local situation, and has also come into contact with people in special fields."

"Hai!"

"Furthermore," the general added, "instruct the Special Higher Police to strengthen surveillance of antique shops, pawnshops, and the black market within the city. Stolen artifacts and gold cannot disappear without a trace; once they resurface, we can trace them back."

"Hai!" The meeting ended in a somber atmosphere. Unbeknownst to anyone, a pale golden shadow quietly vanished from the shadows cast by the eaves outside the window.

That same morning, in the kitchen of Fengzeyuan Restaurant, He Damin was preparing a three-pound Yellow River carp. His knife moved swiftly along the fish's spine, precisely removing the main bone. The fish meat transformed into paper-thin slices, each slice displaying even marbling of fat. Chef Wang nodded in approval: "Excellent knife skills! This 'butterfly slice' technique takes at least three years of dedicated practice. Damin, you're truly born for this."

The apprentices nearby were filled with envy, but none dared to speak up—He Damin's talent, displayed over the past two weeks, was undeniable. From basic cutting and preparation to complex knife skills, and then to heat control, he learned everything at an astonishing speed. Master Wang had repeatedly praised him in public, calling him a once-in-thirty-years prodigy at Fengzeyuan.

"You flatter me, Master," He Damin said with a modest smile, arranging the fish slices on an ice platter. "It's all thanks to your excellent teaching, Brother."

He Daqing, who was mixing the sauce, laughed upon hearing this, "The master leads you through the door, but the cultivation is up to you. I've taught you everything I can; reaching this level is entirely up to you."

This is no exaggeration. The Tan family cuisine is exquisitely passed down, but He Damin was able to master most of the basic skills in half a month. This was not only due to his talent, but also to the strengthening of his body with true energy—steady hands, sharp eyes, and keen perception are all enhancements to his culinary skills. Even more remarkably, he discovered that the Tan family cuisine's control over "heat" and "timing" is remarkably similar to the requirements of "true energy output" and "hand seal rhythm" in Taoist magic. Practicing cooking is also about honing power control.

Before the midday market, He Damin made an excuse to go to the woodshed in the backyard, and with a thought, entered the Tai Chi space. On the black soil of the Yang side, the vegetables planted half a month ago had already grown to a finger's height. There were no seasons here, and the crops grew several times faster than outside.

After watering and fertilizing, he went into his study, sat cross-legged, and began circulating the "Taoist Innate Elixir Method." Within his dantian, twelve drops of golden true essence had already condensed, slowly rotating at the bottom like a miniature galaxy. He had reached the initial stage of Foundation Establishment and was poised to break through to the middle stage at any moment. However, he was not impatient. He took out some yellow paper to practice a new talisman—the Breath Concealing Talisman.

This is a practical talisman recorded in the "Complete Collection of Maoshan Talismans," capable of concealing one's aura and reducing presence. True energy is channeled into the tip of the brush, and cinnabar flows onto the yellow paper. The talisman's structure is several times more complex than that of an exorcism talisman; each stroke requires precise control of the true energy output—too much and the talisman paper will spontaneously combust; too little and the talisman will fail. After four attempts, success was finally achieved.

After applying the concealment talisman, He Damin immediately felt his presence become barely perceptible, and even his heartbeat weakened. At this moment, if someone were standing outside the door, they would hardly be able to detect that someone was inside unless they saw it with their own eyes.

"Good talisman." He nodded in satisfaction.

For the past two weeks, He Damin has spent his days learning to cook, his nights hunting, and his dawn cultivating. He has killed over two hundred Japanese soldiers and traitors, and the number of blood beads on his Soul Refining Banner has increased to over three hundred, with crimson lightning flickering on its surface. His increased soul power has made his soul increasingly solid, allowing him to briefly leave his body even during the day. However, he is extremely cautious: he chooses different areas for each operation, alternating between using the Soul Refining Banner to extract souls, creating "accidents" with true essence, and feigning double-crosses, while deliberately leaving contradictory clues to confuse the Japanese investigation. Judging from the intelligence he gathered last night, the results have been significant.

"Kawashima Yoshiko..." He Damin narrowed his eyes. This notorious spy had actually been brought in to investigate the incident he had fabricated. "Let's see if you, this witch, are more capable, or if I, this 'King of Hell,' am superior."

After dinner, He Damin returned to his room. The spirit emerged and began its nighttime reconnaissance.

Beiping Railway Station, 9 PM. A special train from Shenyang slowly pulled into the station. The platform was heavily guarded, with more than ten armed military police standing on both sides. The train doors opened, and a figure dressed in a men's suit and wearing a top hat stepped off the train. She was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, with a cold and beautiful face, sharp eyes, and a captivatingly sinister air about her—it was Yoshiko Kawashima.

"Miss Yoshiko, you must be tired from your journey." A colonel stepped forward to greet her. Yoshiko Kawashima nodded slightly and asked in fluent Japanese, "Is the situation briefing ready?"

"Already in the car." The colonel led him toward the car.

Inside the car, Yoshiko Kawashima flipped through the case files, from the first bizarre death at the beginning of the month to the warehouse theft, the information was detailed. She read it very carefully, sometimes frowning and sometimes sneering.

"The deceased suffered brain atrophy, suspected of being possessed... Warehouse supplies vanished into thin air..." She closed the file. "Have any unusual figures appeared in the city recently? Especially cultivators?"

"We've investigated, but found nothing." The colonel shook his head. "All temples and Taoist monasteries in Beiping are under surveillance, and well-known practitioners are also on record; nothing unusual has been found."

"That's strange then." Yoshiko Kawashima narrowed her eyes. "Such methods are not something ordinary people can do. It must be either a cultivator or a special being." She paused, "Focus on three directions: strangers from out of town, especially those skilled in magic; traces of artifacts and gold on the black market; and commonalities among the deceased—their behavior before death and their relationships with enemies."

"Hai!"

As the car pulled into the Japanese military headquarters, Yoshiko Kawashima got out and glanced up at the night sky. The winter night sky was clear, yet she felt as if a pair of eyes were coldly watching her from the darkness. "Whoever you are," she murmured to herself, "daring to cause trouble in Beiping, I will definitely find you."

He Damin's spirit hovered above a mansion in the west of the city—the residence of the traitor Li San. Originally a local ruffian, he defected to the Japanese and became a squad leader in the detective team, specializing in extorting money from the people and having several lives on his hands.

The Soul Refining Banner trembled in the spiritual sea, conveying a sense of hunger. The Half-Moon Hunt had significantly altered the banner; its surface now emitted crimson lightning that transformed into tiny electric snakes that coiled around the Blood Soul Chains, greatly increasing their power. Now, the Blood Soul Chains could shatter an ordinary person's soul with a single strike, leaving them helpless.

The spirit passed through the roof and entered the bedroom. Li San was fast asleep, embracing a heavily made-up woman. Wine bottles and dishes were scattered on the bedside table, and stolen silk garments lay strewn on the floor. He Damin didn't act immediately. He first carefully checked to ensure there were no ambushes, then floated above Li San's head, his soul power slowly seeping in—this was his "memory reading" ability obtained from the system. Although extremely difficult to use on living people and only able to read surface memories, it was enough to uncover his crimes. Images flashed through his mind: leading men to break into Wang's Silk Shop and plunder, kidnapping his neighbor's son and extorting money, informing the Japanese army and causing the death of underground workers...

"Damn it." A cold light flashed in He Damin's eyes. The Blood Soul Chain shot out silently, wrapping around Li San's neck, and the crimson lightning instantly shattered his consciousness. Before Li San could even scream, his soul had been extracted and absorbed into the Soul Refining Banner.

The woman beside him seemed to sense something and groggily opened her eyes. He Damin flicked his finger, sending a wisp of true energy into her brow, putting her into a deep sleep. He then took out a piece of paper and wrote with his true energy: "Those who aid and abet evil will die. If you continue to act as an accomplice to tyranny, this will be your fate."

This had been his routine for the past two weeks: always leaving a warning note after killing a traitor, both to deter petty criminals and to mislead the Japanese into believing it was the work of anti-Japanese forces. He would place the note beside the corpse, and then the spirit would drift away.

At 2 a.m., He Damin returned to Nanluoguxiang. After his spirit returned to its place, he sat cross-legged to refine the harvest of the night. Li San's soul quality was acceptable, and his soul power was stronger than that of ordinary people. After being refined by the Soul Refining Banner, part of it nourished the banner, and part of it was fed back to himself.

Within his dantian, twelve drops of true essence trembled slightly, seemingly showing signs of merging. "The mid-stage of Foundation Establishment isn't far off." When he opened his eyes, golden light flowed around him, but he wasn't in a hurry to break through.

Although the hunt had gone smoothly, the atmosphere in the city was growing increasingly tense: Japanese patrols were increasing, plainclothes agents were everywhere, and tonight, several clandestine surveillance agents were detected in the west of the city. "It seems the Japanese are about to make a big move," He Damin mused. He was capable enough to escape, but the safety of his family was paramount. The night deepened, and beneath the quiet of Nanluoguxiang, undercurrents were surging ever stronger.

He Damin quietly got up and walked into the courtyard. The moonlight, like water, spilled onto the bluestone path, casting dappled shadows of trees.

Back inside, He Damin sat cross-legged, eyes slightly closed, his mind focused on his dantian. He activated the Daoist Innate Elixir Technique at full power, guiding the twelve drops of golden true essence to rotate slowly. As the technique circulated, the sparse spiritual energy of heaven and earth was continuously absorbed into his body, transforming into wisps of true essence that merged into his dantian. The twelve drops of true essence, like twelve golden stars, moved along a specific trajectory within his dantian, subtly resonating with each other.

"Now!" He Damin's heart stirred, and he guided the twelve drops of true essence slowly closer. This was a crucial step in breaking through to the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment—merging the twelve drops of true essence into one. The process was extremely dangerous; the slightest carelessness would cause the true essence to go berserk and the meridians to shatter.

The moment their true essences collided, a violent force raged within his dantian. He Damin gritted his teeth, concentrating intently as he desperately tried to control this power. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his face turned somewhat pale.

Time passed slowly, and the violent power within his dantian gradually subsided. The twelve drops of true essence had merged into a single, larger drop of golden true essence, like liquid gold, radiating a dazzling light. "It's done!" He Damin was overjoyed and slowly finished his practice. A powerful aura emanated from his body, which he then quickly withdrew.

He had finally reached the mid-Foundation Establishment stage! He could clearly feel that his true essence had increased several times over, and his soul power had become more solid. The Soul Refining Banner vibrated gently in his spiritual sea, seemingly celebrating his achievement.

"Our strength has improved, and the safety factor has also increased significantly." He Damin nodded in satisfaction. However, he did not let his guard down. The arrival of Yoshiko Kawashima would undoubtedly bring new changes to Beiping City.

Over the next few days, Beijing appeared calm on the surface, but undercurrents were swirling beneath. Japanese searches became more frequent, and Special Higher Police agents roamed the city like ghosts. He Damin continued learning to cook at Fengzeyuan during the day, but at night he became even more cautious in selecting his targets for assassination.

He discovered that the Japanese army seemed to be searching for some special person. Notices were frequently posted in the streets and alleys, featuring blurry portraits with astonishingly high rewards. "It seems Yoshiko Kawashima has already begun her operation," He Damin thought to himself.