Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

This Spring Festival, Beiping was like a dry well, eerily silent. From the first to the fifteenth of the lunar month, He Damin and He Daqing practically stood in the kitchen of Fengzeyuan Restaurant. The temple fairs, which were usually packed with people, were closed, and not a single decent string of firecrackers could be heard on the streets. The Japanese and their collaborators' patrols wandered around like wild dogs, and the common people hid at home, not daring to breathe, for fear of running into the line of fire.

The kitchen of Fengzeyuan was a different story altogether, with the stove burning brightly and steam rising from it.

"Damin, today I'll teach you a real show dish: braised sea cucumber with scallions." He Daqing placed the plump, soaked sea cucumber on the cutting board. "Our Shandong cuisine emphasizes 'freshness, aroma, crispness, and tenderness.' This sea cucumber needs to be simmered in rich chicken broth to fully develop its flavor, then stir-fried with boiling scallion oil. The heat is crucial—too low and it won't absorb the flavor; too high and it'll be tough as a rubber band, impossible to chew!"

He Damin nodded, his eyes fixed intently. He knew perfectly well that those who could now step into Fengzeyuan were either traitors, Japanese officers, or a few capitalists with connections who were profiting from the national crisis. Ordinary people were barely able to afford food; where would they get the money to eat out?

"Brother, are these ingredients particularly hard to come by these days?" he asked in a low voice.

He Daqing sighed heavily, "That's right! Rice, flour, oil, and salt are all in the hands of the Japanese. Meat and vegetables are incredibly precious. When those traitors invite the Japanese to dinner, they have to find ways to get the ingredients themselves." He lowered his voice even further, almost whispering in He Damin's ear, "I heard some buy them at high prices on the black market, and some are even more unscrupulous, going directly to the countryside to rob people from their homes!"

Upon hearing this, the apprentices in the kitchen lowered their heads, their work slowing down slightly. In this world, even being a chef is so stifling; it's like feeding wolves and tigers!

"Clang, clang, clang..." The sound of orderly boots came from outside the window. A squad of Japanese soldiers, carrying rifles with bayonets fixed, swaggered past. The bayonets gleamed coldly in the pale sunlight, stinging the eyes. He Damin's eyes turned cold, and his grip on the knife tightened, but his hands didn't stop working—he sliced ​​the scallions into even, long pieces, and the ginger slices were so thin they were translucent.

"Damin, your knife skills are getting better and better!" Master Wang, who was standing next to him, came over for a look and couldn't help but praise him. "Master Wang, you flatter me." He Damin smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in his smile.

He was preoccupied with other matters. For the past two weeks, he had spent his days learning a craft from He Daqing and his nights cultivating in his room. His mastery of the early stages of the National Martial Arts' Transformation Realm was now rock solid, and his Taoist cultivation had also risen steadily. The Soul Refining Banner, after being nurtured with his soul power during this period, had become increasingly rich and deep in color, and the electric snakes coiled around the Blood Soul Chains seemed poised to solidify.

The fifteenth day of the first lunar month is the Lantern Festival.

In previous years, the alleyways would have been filled with all sorts of lanterns by this time—red, green, rabbit lanterns, revolving lanterns—and children would run around with paper lanterns, their laughter carrying for miles. This year, however, it's eerily quiet. Only a few houses have faded Spring Festival couplets pasted on their doors, barely hinting at the festive atmosphere.

In the evening, He Daqing's family sat around the kang (a heated brick bed) eating glutinous rice balls. They were handmade by Lü Bingxin, filled with sesame and peanut filling, and smelled sweet and fragrant. Little Yuzhu ate until his little belly was round, and his mouth was covered with sesame seeds. He Daqing smiled and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and the room finally felt a little warmer.

"Damin, once the fifteenth is over, the New Year is officially over." He Daqing patted his shoulder. "You can move to the east wing. The kang (heated brick bed) is heated for you, and all the bedding is ready." "Okay," He Damin replied.

He had already planned it all out. Tonight, he'd test how far the spirit could travel, and tomorrow, he'd resume his "hunting" business. But this time, the target would be different—the city's inhabitants were already suffering enough; he couldn't let them suffer because of him.

The sixteenth day of the first lunar month, night.

The small room in the east courtyard was not large, but it was kept clean and tidy. The kang (a heated brick bed) was warm, and a cool moonlight shone through the window paper, casting a silvery frost. He Damin sat cross-legged on the kang, his eyes slightly closed.

A moment later, a pale golden spirit slowly floated out from his Baihui acupoint and hovered in mid-air.

This soul form was much more solid than it had been a month ago, with clear facial features and complete limbs. At first glance, it looked almost exactly like a real person. Within the spiritual sea, the Soul Refining Banner trembled gently, conveying an irrepressible desire—a desire to fight, a desire to devour souls.

"Let's see how far you can run first."

With a thought, He Damin's spirit lightly passed through the roof and rose straight into the night sky.

The winter night in Beiping was pitch black, like a sleeping giant. Only a few lights shone, marking the outposts and patrol posts of the Japanese soldiers. He hovered in mid-air, using the east courtyard where his physical body was located as the center, and began to probe outwards.

One hundred meters, five hundred meters, one thousand meters...

The spirit's range of perception expanded rapidly like ripples on water. He could "see" the sleeping neighbors in Nanluoguxiang, "hear" the distant "clang clang" of the night watchman's clapper, and even clearly "perceive" the violent spiritual fluctuations emanating from the Japanese patrol several streets away.

5,000 meters, 10,000 meters, 15,000 meters...

When the sensing range expanded to 15,000 meters, He Damin's heart stirred slightly. This distance could cover almost half of Beiping City. He didn't stop, but continued to extend it outwards.

20,000 meters, 25,000 meters, 30,000 meters...

Finally, at a distance of 36,000 meters, the spirit's senses seemed to hit an invisible wall, unable to expand outwards even a fraction further. No matter how much he urged his soul power, it remained completely still.

"Thirty-six thousand meters, or thirty-six kilometers," He Damin silently calculated in his mind. "This area is enough to cover the entire city of Beiping, plus most of the surrounding areas."

He remembered that when the system was still active, the control distance was over 15,000 meters, but now it had more than doubled. It seemed to be a result of both the advancement of the Soul Refining Banner and his own improved cultivation.

"Let's see how far it can fly."

The spirit transformed into a pale golden streak of light, shooting rapidly southward. The night wind whistled past its ears, and the farmland, villages, and forests below rushed by like a fast-forwarded movie. Before long, a brightly lit area came into view—Nanyuan Airport had arrived.

He Damin hovered above the airport and estimated the distance. The straight-line distance from Nanluoguxiang to here was about fifteen kilometers, which was exactly within the range of the spirit's perception.

He didn't stop and continued flying south for about fifteen minutes until the outline of another airport appeared before him—Beiping Airport, about thirty kilometers away from Nanluoguxiang.

"They're all within range." He Damin nodded in satisfaction.

This meant his range of activities had greatly expanded; he no longer had to confine himself to the city. The Japanese strongholds, airports, warehouses outside the city… all would be his targets. However, tonight was just a test; it was best not to cause any unforeseen complications. He Damin silently landed on the edge of Nanyuan Airport, his spirit merging into the shadows, and began careful reconnaissance.

Nanyuan Airport is quite large, with more than twenty aircraft neatly lined up on the tarmac. He Damin squinted as he looked around; most were Type 97 and Type 1 fighter jets, along with a few larger transport planes. In the nearby hangar, the shadows of even more aircraft could be vaguely seen.

Beside the runway, a lone three-story control tower stood, its searchlights like cunning eyes, beams of light sweeping back and forth across the night sky. Tall barbed wire fences surrounded the airport, with sentries every fifty meters, the guards wrapped in thick coats, hunched over, pacing back and forth, their breath steaming in the air.

He Damin darted into a hangar like a gust of wind. Inside were five aircraft, their silver-gray fuselages painted with the glaring Japanese Rising Sun insignia. Next to them were piles of heavy wooden crates labeled "Aerial Bombs" and "Ammunition," along with several large gasoline drums emitting a faint kerosene smell. Several ground crew members, dressed in oil-stained, patchwork work clothes, were yawning as they inspected the aircraft, wrenches and screwdrivers in hand.

"I'll come 'visit' again tomorrow night." He Damin noted the location and quietly slipped away.

He wandered around the airport like a ghost, familiarizing himself with the layout. In the northeast corner of the airport stood a row of neat barracks, housing pilots and ground crew officers. To the west were the fuel depots, with rows of huge oil tanks arranged in perfect order. To the south was the ammunition depot, guarded most heavily with armed sentries.

After circling around, He Damin had a thorough understanding of the airport's layout. He glanced at his wrist—in his spirit form, he didn't have a watch, but through his soul power, he could accurately tell the time. This reconnaissance trip took more than an hour.

"That's enough, it's time to go back."

The spirit transformed into a pale golden streak of light and flew swiftly towards Beiping City.

On the way, he tried to activate the functions the system had left behind: system space, attribute panel, navigation... but no matter how he fiddled with his soul power, those functions were as if they were dead, completely unresponsive. The system had made it clear when it ran away that their fate was over, and it was unlikely they would meet again.

"It's a bit of a pity," He Damin sighed inwardly. Especially that attribute panel; if it could be activated, he would have a clear understanding of his own strengths and weaknesses, making his cultivation much more focused.

But then he thought, without the system as a "cheat code," he could hone his skills even better. In his previous life, he became a top assassin not because of any system, but because of his hard work and relentless effort.