Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

He Damin couldn't sleep the night the spiritual vein was buried.

He lay in bed, listening to the chirping of insects outside the window, their calls rising and falling in waves, like a lively conference. Moonlight streamed in through the cracks in the window, casting dappled shadows on the ceiling, swaying gently in the night breeze like fish in water. Chen Xueru was already asleep, her breathing even, her warm breath brushing against his neck, one arm still loosely draped over his shoulder. Afraid of waking her, he carefully, little by little, pulled her arm away, the numbness making him grimace. After a while, he tiptoed out of bed and went to the window.

The moonlight was so bright that everything in the courtyard was clearly visible. The old pomegranate tree's leaves shimmered as if sprinkled with silver powder. A few night insects crawled on the leaves, leaving tiny shadows. He recalled the faint, pulsating feeling he had felt from the earth when he buried the spiritual vein during the day, and a heavy weight settled in his heart. What would become of the He family? This thought was like a thorn, stuck in his mind, impossible to remove.

He possessed the cultivation of a peak Tribulation Transcending cultivator, living for thousands of years would be a piece of cake for him. Protecting the He family for hundreds or even thousands of years wouldn't be a problem at all. But he couldn't live forever. Even if he could, his children would have to forge their own paths, and future generations would have to live their own lives. They couldn't rely on him for shelter generation after generation. He had to leave them something tangible, not gold and silver treasures, nor property deeds—those things were useless in the cultivation world. It was skill, the real skill to make a living.

There are countless arts and crafts in the world of cultivation. Alchemy, weapon crafting, formations, talismans, spiritual plants, beast taming... mastering any one of them can earn you a living in this world, and if you do well, you can even rise above others. The younger generation of the He family must rely on their own abilities to make a living; they don't need to be subservient to others, they can carve out their own path.

"Brother Da Min, why aren't you asleep yet?" Chen Xueru's groggy voice came from behind, hoarse from just waking up.

He Damin turned around and walked back to the bedside. "Nothing much, just thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about? You're acting all mysterious." Chen Xueru rubbed her eyes, sat up, her hair was a little messy, and a few strands were stuck to her face.

"Thinking about the future of the He family." He Damin sat down on the edge of the bed, the moonlight shining on his face, revealing the seriousness in his eyes.

Chen Xueru yawned: "In the future? Didn't you already bury all the spiritual veins? With the spiritual veins there, the children won't have to worry about cultivation."

"Spiritual veins are inanimate, things underground. What if something happens to them one day?" He Damin sighed. "Skills are alive, they're your own, and no one can take them away. I want the younger generation of the He family to learn all the arts of cultivation, like alchemy, weapon crafting, formations, and talismans. Someone has to know each one and pass it down."

Chen Xueru paused for a moment, blinked, and thought for a while: "Then... then who will teach them? We don't have anyone like that in our family right now."

"Me." He Damin smiled, revealing a set of white teeth. "Although I don't know how now, I can learn. This world is so big, there must be many experts. I can ask them for advice, learn by observing others, and buy secret manuals. I'll eventually learn it. If I can't learn it in ten years, I'll learn it in a hundred years. If I can't learn it in a hundred years, I'll learn it in a thousand years. One day, the He family will have its own inheritance and won't have to depend on others anymore."

Chen Xueru looked at him, her eyes sparkling like stars. "Brother Damin, you've really thought ahead."

"How can we not want to go far?" He Damin patted her hand. "Go to sleep, I'll sit for a while longer."

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking and the roosters crowed for the first time, He Damin got up. Chen Xueru made him some scallion pancakes and boiled two eggs. With the pancakes in his pocket and the eggs in his hand, he gave Chen Xueru a few instructions, saying he was going out for a while and asked her to look after the house and the children, before setting off with great strides. He was going to this world to seek the inheritance of the myriad arts of cultivation. His first stop was the nearest major city—Qingyun City.

Qingyun City was truly bustling, much larger than any town He Damin had ever seen before. The city walls were high and thick, inscribed with runes that shimmered faintly. A constant stream of people came and went through the city gates: cultivators in Taoist robes, mortals carrying hoes, and hunters leading demonic beasts. He Damin followed the flow of people, his eyes darting about, unable to take it all in. Shops lined both sides of the street, selling everything imaginable, their calls echoing throughout the city.

He headed straight for the most famous Wanbaoge in the city. Wanbaoge was a five-story wooden building, with carved beams and painted rafters. A large signboard hung at the entrance, bearing the three golden characters "Wanbaoge," visible from afar. Upon entering, a pungent aroma of elixirs, magical artifacts, and spiritual herbs filled the air. The place was quite crowded, and the counters and shelves were overflowing with all sorts of things: bottles of elixirs, magical artifacts, array plates, and talismans—a dazzling array that made one's eyes glaze over.

He Damin walked to the counter selling pills and alchemical texts. A shop assistant dressed in brocade clothes and wearing a small hat hurriedly came up to him, bowing and scraping: "Sir, what would you like to see? We have a full range of pills here, from the first to the fifth grade, as well as various pill formulas and alchemical texts. We guarantee you will be satisfied."

Without wasting any words, He Damin pointed to the books on the shelf and said, "Give me one of each of those basic introductory books on alchemy."

The shop assistant's eyes lit up—this was a big customer! He quickly took down more than a dozen introductory books on alchemy from the shelf, including titles like "Detailed Explanation of the Basics of Alchemy," "Three Hundred Questions on the Beginner's Guide to Spiritual Herbs," "Collection of Beginner Alchemy Formulas," and "An Initial Exploration of Fire Control Techniques," and piled them all on the counter.

"Sir, you have excellent taste! These are our best-selling basic alchemy books at Wanbaoge. Many beginners buy these," the shop assistant said with a smile.

He Damin glanced at them and nodded: "Okay, I'll take them all. Also, give me a pill furnace, a good one, for beginners. And some commonly used spiritual herb seeds, like Qi-gathering grass, Qi-cultivating flower, hemostatic vine, and so on, a little of each."

"Alright!" The shopkeeper happily went to fetch the alchemy furnace and seeds. The furnace was a small, palm-sized bronze furnace, unassuming in appearance, but of good quality, a low-grade magic artifact, perfect for beginners. The medicinal seed seeds were packed in small bags, neatly categorized and clearly labeled.

He Damin checked everything one by one and found no problems. The shop assistant did the math and gave a price. He Damin didn't haggle; he simply took out a handful of spirit stones from his storage bag—some low-grade, some mid-grade—counted them, and handed them to the shop assistant. The shop assistant took the spirit stones, grinning from ear to ear, and quickly packed everything up before handing it back to He Damin.

"Sir, please take this! Are you planning to learn alchemy?" the waiter asked enthusiastically.

"Hmm, I'll just learn something casually." He Damin took the package.

"Let me give you a heads-up. Our Qingyun Sect has an alchemy hall, which is the best alchemy tradition in this area. However, they only accept inner disciples, and the requirements are quite high." The shopkeeper lowered his voice. "If you want to learn, you can also try your luck at the rogue cultivator trading market in the east of the city. There are quite a few rogue alchemists there, and some are willing to take on disciples. However, the tuition fees may not be cheap, and the teaching may not be systematic."

He Damin's heart skipped a beat, and he thanked him, saying, "Thanks, buddy."

"You're welcome, sir/madam. Please come again next time!"

After leaving Wanbaoge, He Damin first found an inn to stay in, then took out the alchemical texts he had bought and read them through. They were all very basic, explained in a very simple way, which was perfect for a novice like him. Then he headed straight for the independent cultivator trading market in the east of the city.

The market for unaffiliated cultivators was far more bustling and chaotic than the Wanbao Pavilion. It was simply a large open space filled with all sorts of stalls—some made of wooden planks, some covered with cloth, and some with goods simply placed on the ground. They sold everything imaginable: pills, magical artifacts, ores, spiritual herbs, materials from demonic beasts, cultivation manuals, and even fortune tellers. People came and went, the sounds of haggling, shouting, and arguing creating a chaotic cacophony.

He Damin squeezed through the crowd, walking and looking around, specifically searching for stalls selling pills. He wanted to find someone who knew how to refine pills, preferably someone willing to teach apprentices. After wandering around for a long time and looking at more than a dozen stalls, most of them sold finished pills. When he asked them if they accepted apprentices, they either shook their heads directly or asked for exorbitantly high prices.

Just as he was about to lose his patience, he stopped in front of a small stall in the far corner of the market. The stall owner was an old man with gray, messy hair, like a clump of weeds, and a face full of wrinkles like a walnut. He wore a faded gray Taoist robe with several patches. On his stall were a dozen or so small porcelain bottles, and next to them were a few withered spiritual herbs. The stall was deserted, with hardly anyone around.

He Damin glanced at the porcelain bottles, probed them briefly with his divine sense, and found that although the pills inside were all first-tier, their quality was quite good, all above mid-grade. The old man's cultivation level was not high, only at the Foundation Establishment stage, which was considered relatively ordinary among rogue cultivators.

He Damin squatted down in front of the stall, picked up a bottle containing Qi Gathering Pills, and asked, "Old man, how much are these Qi Gathering Pills?"

The old man raised his head, glanced at him, his eyes somewhat cloudy but still bright. "Mid-grade Qi Gathering Pills, ten pills per bottle, fifty low-grade spirit stones." His voice was a little hoarse.

"Did you refine it yourself?" He Damin asked again.

The old man nodded without saying anything more.

"Old man, you know how to make pills?" He Damin put down the bottle and looked at him.

"I know a little." The old man leaned against the wall behind him, squinting. "If you want to buy pills, buy them. If not, don't keep me from sunbathing."

"I'm not buying." He Damin smiled and sat down on the small stool opposite him. "I want to learn alchemy. Do you take on apprentices?"

The old man paused, as if he hadn't heard clearly or found it unbelievable. He looked He Damin up and down, noticing his ordinary clothes but composed demeanor, which didn't seem like a joke. Then he grinned, revealing his few remaining teeth: "Of course I'll take you in. Why wouldn't I? But my tuition isn't cheap."

"How many?"

"One hundred mid-grade spirit stones a month." The old man held up one finger, a sly glint in his eyes. He figured the young man was just asking and definitely couldn't afford that much money. One hundred mid-grade spirit stones was no small sum for a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

He Damin didn't even blink. He took a small bag out of his storage bag and placed it on the stall with a rustling sound. "There are 1,200 mid-grade spirit stones in here. That's a year's tuition."

The old man's eyes lit up instantly, as if two flames had suddenly ignited within his cloudy eyes. He quickly picked up the bag, opened it, and saw a dazzling array of mid-grade spirit stones, neatly stacked inside. He was so excited that his hands trembled slightly. He quickly stuffed the bag into his coat and patted it, as if afraid it would fly away.

"Oh my! Sir... no, apprentice! You're so generous!" The old man's wrinkles stretched into a wide smile. "From today onwards, you are my apprentice, Old Zhang! My surname is Zhang, and everyone calls me Old Zhang the Taoist. You can call me Old Zhang the Taoist too."

He Damin followed Zhang Laodao back to his residence. It was a few dilapidated thatched huts in a small mountain valley outside the city. The yard was planted with some common low-grade spiritual herbs, all over the place. The house was even more rudimentary, with a broken table, a few long benches, an earthen stove, and some miscellaneous items for alchemy piled up in the corner.

"Ahem, apprentice, the conditions are a bit simple, but you'll have to make do with it," Zhang Laodao said somewhat embarrassedly.

"It's alright, Master, as long as I can learn something," He Damin said nonchalantly.

For the next month, He Damin followed Zhang Laodao to learn alchemy. Zhang Laodao's alchemy skills were indeed average; he could only refine a few first-tier pills, such as Qi Gathering Pills, Yuan Nourishing Pills, Healing Pills, and Detoxifying Pills. He didn't know how to refine anything higher-tier. However, he had one advantage: his foundation was exceptionally solid, and his understanding of spiritual herbs was quite profound.

Every morning before dawn, Master Zhang would take He Damin to the nearby mountains to identify medicinal herbs. He explained clearly and without ambiguity the name of each herb, what it looked like, the best time to harvest it, its medicinal properties, and any potential side effects. He also taught He Damin how to harvest, preserve, and process the herbs. For example, the Qi-gathering herb should be harvested in the early morning when it was still covered in dew, and the mud on the roots should be washed away, but it shouldn't be soaked in water for too long, otherwise its spiritual energy would be lost; the Qi-cultivating flower should be picked when it was in full bloom, and after picking it, it should be immediately dried in the shade, not exposed to direct sunlight… Although these details were also in the book, Master Zhang's explanations were more vivid and practical.

Then came the learning of ingredient combinations: which medicinal herbs could be combined, which couldn't, what the proportions should be, and why they should be combined in that way—Old Zhang had his own set of experiences. Next came the techniques, methods, and precautions for refining the elixir. Old Zhang's alchemy furnace was an old, blackened iron furnace that had been used for countless years. He used this dilapidated furnace to teach He Damin, step by step, how to start a fire, how to control the fire, how to manage the temperature, when to add the main ingredient, when to add the auxiliary ingredients, when to stir, and when to collect the elixir…

He Damin studied very diligently. He was naturally intelligent, and his spiritual power was ridiculously strong. He could remember what Master Zhang explained after just one explanation, and he could even apply what he learned to other situations. Master Zhang would demonstrate the technique once, and he could follow along and do it quite well.