Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The moon's interior is a cold, metallic tunnel, massive stone pillars engraved with runes, and a spatial oppression that can sting even the soul. Here, none of that exists; here, there is only sunlight, grass, streams, and air so fresh it seems you could squeeze water from it.

"Brother Damin, where is this?" Chen Xueru gripped his hand tightly, her knuckles turning white. There was a barely perceptible tremor in her voice; after all, anyone thrown from the interior of the moon into such a place would be bewildered.

He Damin didn't speak. He took a deep breath, and his primordial spirit in his dantian stirred slightly.

boom--

His divine sense surged out like a burst dam, spreading along the ground. It swept across the grassland, skimmed over streams, and climbed hills. One mile, ten miles, a hundred miles, a thousand miles... He could "see" wild beasts running in the distant forests, "hear" birds singing in the trees, and "smell" the fragrance of unknown wildflowers in the valleys. But his divine sense was like a stone thrown into the ocean, disappearing without a sound.

too big.

It's bigger than anywhere he's ever been. The Pacific Ocean is huge, isn't it? It's probably not even a small puddle here.

What alarmed him even more was the spiritual energy.

The spiritual energy in the air was so thick it was like milk that couldn't be dissolved; even a single breath felt like every pore on his body was singing. He subconsciously circulated his cultivation technique, and the spiritual energy seemed to have grown legs, drilling into his meridians, circulating through his dantian, and finally converging into his primordial spirit. His cultivation, which had been firmly established at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage, showed faint signs of weakening, like a tiny crack appearing in a dam.

"The spiritual energy here..." He Damin clicked his tongue, somewhat incredulous, "is at least a hundred times denser than on Earth."

Chen Xueru felt it too. She closed her eyes, her hand resting on her lower abdomen trembling slightly. Her golden core spun joyfully within her, like a dried sponge finding water, greedily absorbing the surrounding spiritual energy. On Earth, it had taken her a full thirty years to progress from the early to the middle stages of the Golden Core realm, rising before dawn every day to practice breathing exercises, her fingers calloused from the practice. But here, she felt that if she simply closed her eyes and meditated for three days and three nights, she could reach the threshold of the late Golden Core stage.

"Brother Damin, this place...this place is perfect for cultivation." She opened her eyes, which were bright and sparkling, like they were filled with stars.

He Damin nodded, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings: "But this is definitely not Earth, nor the Moon, and... it might not even be in the solar system." He had just used his divine sense to scan the area for a long time, but he hadn't seen a single satellite signal tower, let alone airplanes or ships.

Chen Xueru's heart sank: "Where is this?"

"I don't know." He Damin took her hand. "Come on, let's look around first."

They walked downstream along the stream. The water wasn't deep, just past their ankles, and the cool current flowed past their feet, carrying the touch of small fish and shrimp. The fish looked strange; some were covered in golden scales with tails like little fans; some were silvery-white with round, glass-like eyes; and others were as red as flames, swimming to and fro, incredibly beautiful. Chen Xueru couldn't resist squatting down and reaching out to scoop one up, but the little fish flicked its tail and darted into a crevice in the rocks, splashing water all over her face.

The trees along the stream also had a strange quality. Some trees were so tall they almost pierced the sky, their trunks so thick that a dozen people couldn't wrap their arms around them, their canopies blocking out the sun, with only dappled sunlight filtering through the gaps. Other trees, however, were only half a person's height, their branches covered with brightly colored flowers—red, yellow, purple—each more vibrant than the last, and their fragrance, if smelled up close, could make one dizzy.

After walking for about half an hour, Chen Xueru suddenly tugged at He Damin's arm and pointed into the distance: "Brother Damin, look!"

He Damin looked in the direction she pointed and his eyes lit up.

At the foot of the distant mountains, wisps of smoke rose, standing out against the blue sky.

"Someone's here!" Chen Xueru's voice was filled with excitement. Having someone here would make things easier; at least they could ask where they were.

The two quickened their pace, heading towards the direction of the smoke. The further they walked, the less weeds grew on either side of the path, and gradually a path worn smooth by footsteps appeared. After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a small village came into view.

The village was small, with only a few dozen households. The houses were all built of wood and stone, with blue-tiled roofs, and some even had smoke rising from their chimneys. The style looked somewhat familiar, like an ancient village from a TV show. At the entrance of the village stood a huge banyan tree, its trunk so thick that a dozen people holding hands couldn't encircle it, its roots like dragon claws embedded in the ground, and its canopy large enough to cover half the village.

Several elderly people sat under the tree. Some were playing chess on a polished stone slab, using black and white stones as the chessboard. Others chatted together, fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans. Still others leaned against the tree trunk, dozing off, drool dripping from their mouths. They were all dressed in coarse cloth, the men with headscarves and the women with their hair tied up with wooden hairpins, looking like ancient people who had stepped out of a painting.

Upon seeing He Damin and Chen Xueru, the elderly people stopped what they were doing and looked at them curiously. He Damin was wearing a combat uniform from the lunar base; although it was a little dusty, the material and style were quite strange. Chen Xueru was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, which, in the eyes of these elderly people, also looked like odd clothes.

An elderly man with completely white hair and beard stood up, leaning on a cane, and said with a smile, "Where are you two from?" His accent was a little strange, but it was still understandable.

He Damin quickly went over and, imitating what he saw on TV, clasped his hands in a traditional Chinese greeting: "Sir, we're lost. Excuse me, where is this place?"

The old man stroked his beard, squinting as he sized them up. "This is Qingniu Village, which belongs to Qingyun Town. Further up is Qingyun City. You're from out of town, aren't you? Your accents don't sound like locals."

"We've come from a very far place." He Damin nodded, but inwardly he was puzzled. Qingniu Village? Qingyun Town? Qingyun City? Why did these names sound so familiar? He then asked, "Old man, what country is this? What continent?"

The old man paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, revealing his few remaining teeth: "Country? Continent? Young man, what are you talking about? We only have Qingyun City here, and the Immortal Sect is right above the city. There's no such thing as a country or a continent."

"Immortal Sect?" He Damin raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, the Qingyun Sect." The old man stretched out his cane, pointing to the highest peak in the distance. "It's on Qingyun Mountain. That's the largest immortal sect within a radius of ten thousand miles, incredibly powerful! The children in our village, as long as they pass the test, can go to the immortal sect to cultivate, and have the potential to become immortals in the future!"

He Damin looked in the direction he was pointing. The mountain peak soared into the clouds, its summit shrouded in mist, with the silhouettes of pavilions and towers faintly visible. He could sense that the spiritual energy there was much denser than in the village, and there were even faint fluctuations of array formations. It seemed that the Qingyun Sect was indeed quite something.

"Thank you, sir." He Damin clasped his hands in thanks again and pulled Chen Xueru towards the village.

The village roads were paved with flagstones, worn smooth by countless footsteps. Unidentified flowers and grasses grew on both sides of the road, blooming vibrantly. Red lanterns hung in front of every house, and some had herbs and grains drying in the sun. Several children dressed in coarse cloth were chasing and playing by the roadside. When they saw He Damin and his friends, they stopped and looked at them curiously, some even peeking from behind their parents.

"Brother Damin, this place is so strange," Chen Xueru whispered. "There are immortal sects and cultivators, but no countries."

"Hmm, it seems like this place is organized by sects," He Damin observed as he walked. "The sects are the largest powers, controlling the towns and villages below them."

"What happens to people here after they die? Is there an underworld?" Chen Xueru suddenly asked.

He Damin paused. He hadn't really thought about this. On Earth, he had personally built the Underworld, with Yama, judges, eighteen levels of hell, and the six paths of reincarnation. After death, souls were taken to the Underworld, some reincarnated, others punished. But here… He scanned the area with his divine sense, but sensed no trace of any underworld officials, nor the chilling aura characteristic of the Underworld.

"I don't know, I'll find a chance to ask later."

As they were talking, they heard a wailing sound coming from ahead. As they approached, they discovered a family was holding a funeral. A white banner hung at the entrance, bearing the character "奠" (meaning "offering sacrifice"). Inside the main room, a coffin sat, and several women dressed in white knelt on the ground, weeping heart-wrenchingly.

He Damin stood at the back of the crowd, his brows slightly furrowed. His divine sense silently probed through the coffin lid and saw the person inside. It was an old man who looked to be in his seventies or eighties, with deep wrinkles on his face, his eyes tightly closed, and his expression quite peaceful, as if he were asleep.

But his soul was gone.

He Damin's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately spread his divine sense, carefully searching the sky above the village. Soon, he found the soul above the village.

It was a hazy, gray shadow, much like a person who had just died on Earth, drifting aimlessly. It seemed unaware of its own death, still circling its own rooftop, occasionally glancing inside, emitting silent whimpers. There were no messengers of the underworld to collect its soul, no gates of hell, and no path to reincarnation. It simply drifted there, like a child lost and without a home.

"What's wrong?" Chen Xueru sensed that something was wrong with He Damin and asked in a low voice.

"The soul of that dead old man is still floating above the village," He Damin said in a low voice. "No one has come to collect it."

Chen Xueru was startled and quickly released her divine sense. Her cultivation was far inferior to Damin's; she could only barely sense a blurry figure floating in the sky. "Brother Damin, is there... no underworld here?"

"Perhaps." He Damin withdrew his divine sense, his expression somewhat grave. "Perhaps there is no underworld at all in this world."