Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Looking at the familiar dishes on the table and smelling the enticing aroma, He Damin's eyes welled up slightly. He picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of braised pork, and put it in his mouth. The familiar taste blossomed on his taste buds; it was the taste of home, the taste of Yuan Jing, the warmest taste deep in his memory. He ate slowly and carefully, savoring each bite, feeling a warm glow in his heart.

"Dad, when are you leaving this time?" Yuan Jing asked softly at the dinner table, her voice filled with deep reluctance.

He Damin put down his chopsticks, looked at his daughter's expectant eyes, sighed inwardly, and said, "Tomorrow."

"So soon?" Yuan Jing's voice suddenly rose, her face filled with disappointment. "Couldn't we stay a few more days?"

"Yes, Dad," Yuan An said, "Stay a few more days, we still have so much to tell you."

"No, things are urgent." He Damin shook his head. "I'll come back as soon as I'm done."

Yuan Jing lowered her head and stopped talking, silently picking at the rice in her bowl, her eyes reddening again. Seeing this, Yuan An reached out and patted the back of her hand, signaling her not to be too sad.

Looking at the two children, He Damin was overwhelmed with emotion. He suddenly remembered many years ago, when they were still children. Back then, Yuan Jing was only five years old, with pigtails and a little floral dress, chasing butterflies in the yard, her laughter as clear as silver bells; Yuan An was even younger, having just learned to walk, wobbling like a little drunkard, babbling incoherently. In the blink of an eye, they had both grown up, with their own careers, their own lives, and even… almost the age he was when he left. Time truly is the most ruthless, yet also the most wondrous thing.

"Dad," Yuan An put down his chopsticks and asked again, his tone more serious than before, "What exactly are you going to Japan for? Could you tell us so we can be prepared?" He had a feeling that his father's trip to Japan this time was not a simple matter.

He Damin was silent for a moment, seemingly considering how to phrase his words. Finally, he looked up at the two children and slowly said, "Build a passage."

"A passage?" Yuan An and Yuan Jing were stunned in unison, looking at each other with confusion in their eyes.

"Yes," He Damin nodded, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable power, "a passage connecting two worlds."

"Two worlds?" Yuan Jing's eyes widened, even more puzzled.

Yuan An and Yuan Jing exchanged a glance. Although their hearts were filled with countless questions, seeing their father's deep and resolute gaze, they knew that what he was saying was probably beyond their comprehension. They stopped asking questions and silently digested this astonishing information. Perhaps it was better for them not to know some things.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, He Damin prepared to leave. Yuan Jing and Yuan An both got up very early and silently saw him off to the courtyard.

Yuan Jing held his hand tightly, refusing to let go, tears welling in her eyes: "Dad, you...you must come back soon. Next time...next time you must bring Mom back with you."

"Don't worry." He Damin patted her head, looking at her red eyes, his heart filled with reluctance. "I'll come back once things are settled over there. Next time, I'll definitely bring your mother back with me, so our family can be reunited."

Yuan Jing nodded vigorously, but tears still streamed down her face.

He Damin sighed, pulled her and Yuan An, who was standing next to him, into his arms, and gave them a gentle hug. "Alright, you're all so old now, why are you still crying? Take care of yourselves, and take care of your younger brothers and sisters too."

"We will, Dad," Yuan An said, his voice choked with emotion.

"I'm leaving." He Damin released them, took a deep look at them, and etched their images into his heart once more. Then, he turned around without hesitation and made a light slash with his right hand towards the air.

The familiar spatial rift reappeared, and He Damin stepped inside.

Behind them, Yuan Jing and Yuan An stood in the courtyard, watching the spatial rift quickly close and disappear until no trace could be seen anymore. They remained standing there for a long time, the morning breeze blowing through their hair and also blowing away the tears on their faces.

……

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Stepping into the spatial rift once more, He Damin didn't hesitate. Following the coordinates he remembered, he headed towards Japan. This time, his destination was clear—Tokyo.

Tearing through space, He Damin's figure appeared directly above Tokyo. Beneath his feet lay this international metropolis he had visited many times before. Skyscrapers stood shoulder to shoulder, streets bustling with traffic and people—a scene of vibrant prosperity and hustle and bustle. However, in He Damin's eyes, behind this prosperity lurked an indescribable shadow.

He stood high in the sky, like an invisible observer, overlooking the vast city. His gaze pierced through the thick clouds, through the towering buildings, through the hard ground, and extended downwards, landing deep underground.

That place was once the location of the split parts of his Soul Refining Banner, and also the site where he harvested countless souls. Now, the Soul Refining Banner has long been retrieved, and those harvested souls have been sent to the Xuan Tian Continent for reincarnation. There, only an empty wasteland, corroded by spiritual energy, remains. And he is about to build an unprecedented passage on this wasteland—a soul passage connecting the Earth's Underworld and the Xuan Tian Continent's Underworld.

He Damin didn't linger in the air. He concealed his presence and, like a falling leaf, drifted down silently, eventually landing on the rooftop of an abandoned building. This building was located in the suburbs of Tokyo, surrounded by overgrown weeds and rarely visited by people, making it perfect for what he was about to do.

He entered the building; the hallways were filled with dust and trash, the walls were mottled, and most of the windows were broken, exuding an air of decay and desolation. He descended the creaking stairs to the basement. The basement was large and empty, filled only with thick dust and cobwebs, emanating a damp, musty smell.

The morning mist of the Xuan Tian Continent always carries a touch of ethereal fairy-like beauty. He Damin stood atop Qingfeng Mountain, the mountain wind ruffling his clothes. He had stood there for three full hours, his gaze piercing through the rolling sea of ​​clouds, as if trying to see through the void itself. More than half a month had passed since his return from Earth, yet the ancient bronze token hidden in his sleeve still kept him restless—it was a keepsake given to him by an old man with a white beard deep within the Kunlun Ruins, said to be a handwritten note left by the Ma family ancestor, containing secrets that could overturn his understanding of his homeland.

"Brother Damin, the morning dew is heavy, be careful not to catch a cold." Chen Xueru's voice drifted over, carrying a sweet and ethereal quality. In the purple clay teacup she held, nine wisps of emerald-green tea smoke rose gently. It was made from thousand-year-old snow-capped pine needles brewed with morning dew from deep within Jade Spring Mountain, the tea soup shimmering like glass in the morning light. She walked to He Damin's side, gently placing the teacup in his palm. When her fingertips touched his slightly cool knuckles, she couldn't help but frown slightly.

He Damin took the teacup, the warmth spreading from his palm to his entire body. He lowered his head and took a sip; the spiritual tea transformed into a warm current as it entered his throat, but it failed to dispel the gloom between his brows. "Xue Ru, do you remember when we first arrived on the Xuan Tian Continent, the children always clamored to go back to Earth to see the fireworks in Hong Kong?" he suddenly asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

Chen Xueru leaned on his shoulder, her dark hair brushing against his neck in the wind, bringing a slightly itchy warmth. "How could I not remember? Yuan An always carried around the Transformers he brought from Earth, saying he wanted to go back and compete with his classmates to see whose robot was more powerful." She chuckled softly, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught He Damin's tightly pursed lips. "But Damin-ge, when you go back this time..."

"Spiritual veins." He Damin turned around, his obsidian eyes reflecting the surging light and shadow of the sea of ​​clouds. "The spiritual veins on Earth have never dried up. Those ancient clans sealed away in history books—the Xuanyuan clan—built bronze altars deep in the Zhongnan Mountains; the Shennong clan guarded the medicinal gardens of Changbai Mountain for generations; even Ma Xiaoling, whom we know, has a hundred-mile-long water vein suppressed beneath her ancestral home in the Ma family of Northeast China." He stretched out his hand, condensing a wisp of true essence at his fingertips, outlining the shape of the Earth in the air. "These families sealed the spiritual veins into independent little worlds, like carving hidden springs in a dried-up riverbed, completely undetectable to outsiders."

Chen Xueru's teacup trembled slightly, a few drops of spiritual tea splashing onto the back of her hand, but she didn't notice. "Those families from mythology...?" She recalled the novel *Investiture of the Gods* she had read in her youth; those immortals riding the clouds now seemed like living, breathing beings. "And their cultivation levels..."

"The head of the Xuanyuan family has reached the peak of the Nascent Soul stage." He Damin flicked away the water droplets from his teacup, his voice deep. "To have such cultivation on Earth, where spiritual energy is scarce, the secret techniques they possess are probably even more ancient than those of the sects on the Xuan Tian Continent. I scanned the entire Kunlun Ruins with my divine sense and discovered that the spiritual vein seals there are engraved with ancient runes, which even I can only understand about 20-30% of."

A sudden gust of mountain wind whipped up Chen Xueru's skirt. She gazed at the misty valley in the distance, from which came the sounds of children laughing and playing—Yuan Jing was teaching her younger siblings to identify spiritual herbs, while Yuan An was using magic to build a crystal bridge across the stream. "The children don't want to leave Earth," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Yuan Jing says she wants to open a flower shop on Victoria Peak, Yuan An wants to go to Hong Kong University… but without spiritual veins, their lifespans are at most a hundred years. By the time we transcend tribulations and ascend…"

He Damin grasped her slightly cool hand, the warmth of his palm gradually calming her down. "So I'm going to dig up a spiritual vein." His tone was resolute, as if he were stating something perfectly ordinary. "The Xuan Tian Continent is vast, and there are bound to be undiscovered, unclaimed spiritual veins. Once I find a suitable one, I'll bring it back to Earth and bury it at the foot of Taiping Mountain."

"Digging...digging into a spiritual vein?" Chen Xueru's eyes widened, and she nearly dropped the teacup in her hand. In her thousand years of cultivation, she had only ever heard of cultivators using spiritual veins for cultivation, never of anyone uprooting one. "Spiritual veins are the earth's veins; how can you just dig them up like that?"

"Ordinary cultivators certainly can't do it." A faint golden light emanated from He Damin's fingertips, the unique true essence fluctuations of a peak Tribulation Transcending cultivator. "But a spiritual vein is essentially a living thing formed from the condensation of heaven and earth's spiritual energy. As long as you use the 'Nine Revolutions Returning to Origin' method to sever its connection with the earth's veins, and then store it in the Yin-Yang space, it's not difficult. Back then, I was able to move the entire Jade Spring Mountain into my storage ring, so what is a spiritual vein?" As he spoke, his eyes gleamed with confidence, as if he could already see Taiping Mountain shrouded in spiritual mist.