Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The morning dew still clung to the tips of the grass blades, and the mist in the valley, like a thin veil, shrouded the distant mountains in a hazy glow. He Damin stood with his hands behind his back under the old pomegranate tree, its bark as rough as the handle of the hoe he used to carry in his youth, the cracks still embedded with soil from three hundred years ago. He looked up at the surging sea of ​​clouds in the distance; the sun had just peeked over the horizon, dyeing the clouds a golden-red, much like the flames he had seen in the hearth of his old home.

This pomegranate tree was a branch he casually planted when he first arrived in the Xuan Tian Continent. Now it has grown into a giant tree that takes three people to encircle, its canopy spreading out like a large umbrella, shading half of the valley. The branches are full of bright red pomegranates, the size of a fist, hanging heavily, swaying in the wind. Some are so ripe that they have split open, revealing agate-like seeds, making several mountain sparrows hop around tempted.

"Brother Damin, it's not even fully light yet, why are you standing here?" Chen Xueru walked over carrying a rough earthenware bowl, steam still rising from the rim, a bitter tea aroma mixed with the dampness of the morning dew wafting over. She was wearing a blue cloth jacket, her hair simply tied back, a few strands of hair blowing against her face in the wind, and a smile hidden in the fine lines at the corners of her eyes.

He Damin took the teacup, his fingertips tracing the crackled ice on the bottom, and took a large sip. The spiritual tea slid down his throat, a warm sensation spreading from his dantian to his limbs. "Thinking about something," he said slowly, his voice like a stream in a valley, gazing at the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

"What are you thinking about?" Chen Xueru stood next to him, the shadow of the pomegranate tree falling on her, swaying back and forth.

"Taking on apprentices."

Chen Xueru almost dropped the teacup in her hand, and the steaming tea splashed onto the back of her hand, which she didn't bother to wipe. "Taking on apprentices? Don't you already have apprentices? Of the dozens of children in the He family, which one hasn't learned skills from you?" She remembered that last autumn during the harvest, Xiao Sanzi had used his newly learned fire control technique to help dry the medicinal herbs, roasting them until they were fragrant and crispy.

He Damin shook his head, dewdrops from the pomegranate leaves pattering onto his shoulder. "It's different. Those are my family's children; I have to protect them as they grow up, teaching them a few skills to make a living. What I want to take in are people who can pass on my skills." He paused, looking at the distant green peaks revealed as the sea of ​​clouds dispersed. "Three hundred years have passed; I can't take them to my grave."

Chen Xueru held the teacup to his lips, letting him take another sip. "So where do you plan to look? This Xuan Tian Continent is huge." She knew He Damin's temper; once he made up his mind, nothing could change it. Back then, he insisted on planting spirit grains in this desolate valley, and no one could dissuade him. Now, it has become a famous treasure land.

"Luck is something that can't be hidden." He Damin put down his teacup, the bottom of which made a crisp sound as it tapped on the bluestone slab. "The Xuan Tian Continent is so vast, there are bound to be a few exceptional individuals. Besides, some of the souls that came from our hometown also have a good foundation." He reached out and patted the tree trunk, causing several ripe pomegranates to fall down with a "plop," startling a bunch of sparrows into flight.

"Then I'll go with you." Chen Xueru bent down, picked up a pomegranate, peeled it, and popped it into her mouth, the sweet juice dripping down her chin.

"Okay." He Damin smiled, revealing two rows of neat white teeth.

The two went back inside and quickly packed a bundle. Chen Xueru stuffed in a few flatbreads and a jar of homemade pickles. He Damin slung his three-hundred-year-old iron hoe over his shoulder, saying that if they saw any good land along the way, they could dig a couple more holes. They emerged from the valley in the morning dew. He Damin lightly touched the ground with his toes, and he and Chen Xueru rose into the air. The trees beneath their feet grew smaller and smaller, like a green carpet. The mountain wind whistled past their ears, making Chen Xueru's cloth jacket flutter loudly.

He Damin's divine sense spread out like a net, covering an area of ​​tens of thousands of miles. He didn't look at who had the highest cultivation level, but specifically sought out those with abundant fortune. This thing was invisible and intangible, yet like a summer thunderstorm, it held back a powerful force. Some people had a faint blue light above their heads, like newly sprouted grass; some had a golden light that made one dizzy; and others had a deep purple light that exuded nobility. He was like picking ears of wheat in a field, able to spot the fullest ones at a glance.

The first one they spotted was at the Qingyun Sect. The boy was in his early twenties, wearing a drab outer disciple's robe, carrying water at the foot of the mountain. The carrying pole creaked under the weight, and his shoulders were chafed red. A blue light floated above his head, its edges faintly gleaming with gold, as if it were about to burst into flames. He Damin landed under the old locust tree outside the mountain gate. Chen Xueru took out a handkerchief to wipe her sweat, curiously examining the imposing mountain gate.

"Please inform him that He Damin, a rogue cultivator, has come to pay a visit." He Damin cupped his hands to the disciple guarding the gate. The disciple, seeing that he was dressed plainly, was about to send him away, but when he saw the string of wild peach pits hanging from Chen Xueru's waist behind him, his pupils suddenly contracted—there were faint array fluctuations on them. How could an ordinary rogue cultivator have such a treasure?

Before long, an outer sect elder from the Qingyun Sect came running out. When he saw He Damin, his eyes widened. In his more than two hundred years of life, he had never seen anyone with such a steady aura, like the green mountains beneath his feet—seemingly ordinary, but unfathomably profound. "Senior, your presence is an honor! I have not been able to greet you properly!" The elder bowed, and the jade token in his sleeve trembled.

He Damin waved his hand and pointed to the child still carrying water in the distance. "I'm looking for him."

The boy's name was Lin Feng. His parents were ordinary hunters from the foot of the mountain. Ten years ago, they were selected to join the Qingyun Sect, but due to their mediocre talent, they were always at the bottom of the outer sect. He had just poured the bucket of water into the reservoir when an elder called him over, startling him so much that his legs trembled. "Elder...Elder, I didn't slack off..."

"What nonsense are you spouting!" The elder slapped him on the back of the head, pointed at He Damin, and said, "Hurry up and pay your respects to Senior He!"

Lin Feng looked up and saw He Damin, and was stunned. This man was dressed in coarse cloth clothes and straw sandals, looking even more ordinary than the herb farmers at the foot of the mountain, but his eyes were incredibly bright, as if they held two stars. Chen Xueru secretly slipped him a pomegranate and whispered, "Don't be afraid, my brother Damin is a very good person."

"Lin Feng, would you be willing to become my disciple?" He Damin got straight to the point. His voice wasn't loud, but it struck Lin Feng's ears like a hammer blow.

The pomegranate in Lin Feng's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," rolling quite a distance. He looked at He Damin, then at the smiling Chen Xueru beside him, and stammered, "Senior, you are...?"

"He Damin, a rogue cultivator." He Damin scratched his head, a little embarrassed, "I'd say I'm barely at the Tribulation Transcending stage."

"The Tribulation Transcending Stage?!" Lin Feng's eyes widened like copper bells, and the carrying pole in his hand clattered to the ground. In his ten years at the Qingyun Sect, the most common thing he'd heard was that "the Tribulation Transcending Stage is a legend," and now the legend was standing right before him, and they wanted to take him as a disciple? His legs went weak, and he knelt down with a thud, his knees hitting the bluestone slab, making him grimace in pain, but a fire burned within him. "This disciple is willing!"

He Damin helped him up and brushed the dust off his knees. "Get up. From today onwards, you are my eldest disciple."

As Lin Feng stood up, tears streamed down his face. He recalled the past ten years: while others practiced swordsmanship, he carried water; while others consumed elixirs, he ate cornbread. Even his fellow disciples in the same room laughed at him, calling him a "wooden stump." Now, a master at the Tribulation Transcending stage had taken a liking to him. He wiped his face, choked back tears, and said, "Master, I... I kowtow to you!" He then kowtowed three times, his forehead turning red.

When Lin Feng left the Qingyun Sect, he carried a tattered bundle containing only a few changes of clothes and half a piece of uneaten dry rations. Chen Xueru stuffed her pancake into his hands, and he accepted it with a blush, taking small bites, his eyes shining like stars.

The second child was in the Monster Forest. When He Damin's divine sense swept over, he saw a boy of about ten years old fighting a first-tier monster, a "Blue-Faced Tusked Boar." The boar was stronger than an ox, its tusks gleaming coldly. The child held only a rusty woodcutter's knife, and there was a cut on his arm, blood dripping from his fingertips, but his eyes were wide open, and he didn't back down an inch. The golden light above his head was as thick as honey that couldn't be melted, making He Damin nod in approval.

"Good prospect." He Damin said with a smile, and with a flick of his sleeve, a gust of wind passed by, and the ferocious monster collapsed limply, groaning and its tail tucked tightly between its legs.

The boy, carrying a machete, warily eyed the two who had suddenly appeared. He wore a patched animal skin coat, his hair was disheveled, and his face was smeared with mud and blood, but his eyes shone brightly, like those of a wolf cub. "Who are you?"

"My name is He Damin, and I'd like to take you on as my apprentice." He Damin squatted down, looking at the wood-chopping knife in the man's hand, its blade already worn down. "What's your name?"

"Iron Pillar." The boy held his machete horizontally in front of his chest. "What can you teach me?"

"I'll teach you everything." He Damin counted on his fingers, "Alchemy, weapon crafting, formations, talismans... as long as you want to learn, I'll teach you." He saw Tie Zhu's stomach rumble, so he took a pancake out of his bundle and handed it to him, "Have something to eat first."

Tie Zhu hesitated for a moment, then took the cake and wolfed it down, crumbs falling all over his chest. After finishing, he stuck his wood-chopping knife into the ground and knelt down with a thud. "Master!" his voice was clear and crisp, like a mountain stone.

He Damin helped him up, noticed the wound on his arm, squeezed his wrist, and frowned. "You need to take good care of your health. I'll make you some medicine later." He took out a small porcelain bottle from his pocket, poured out a blue pill, and said, "Take this first; it will stop the inflammation."

Tie Zhu caught it and tossed it into his mouth. The pill melted instantly, a cool sensation flowing down his throat, and the pain in his arm wound immediately subsided. He touched the wound, his eyes wide with surprise: "Master, what kind of treasure is this?"

"It's worthless stuff," He Damin laughed. "You'll have plenty to eat later."

Chen Xueru helped Tiezhu wipe the bloodstains off his tattered jacket and then combed his hair. "Where are your parents?"

Tie Zhu lowered his head, his fingers digging into the mud. "Last year, I went hunting in the mountains and was eaten by a monster."

Chen Xueru felt a pang of sadness and pulled him into her arms. "From now on, I'll be your master's wife, and Brother Damin will be your master. We're all family."

Tie Zhu snuggled against her, saying nothing, but tears fell onto her cloth jacket.

The third was a young woman on the endless seashore. When He Damin found her, she was sitting on a large rock, cultivating. The sea breeze made her hair look like seaweed. She wore a coarse cloth skirt, was barefoot, and had sand between her toes, but her back was ramrod straight. Her hands were forming mudras, and her breathing carried a faint smell of the sea. The purple aura above her head was like a small cloud; in the Xuan Tian Continent, this was the aura of an emperor, extremely rare.

"Girl, what's your name?" He Damin landed on the rock next to her, startling a few seagulls.

The girl suddenly opened her eyes, a harpoon instantly appearing in her hand. She looked at him warily. "Who are you? What do you want?" Her voice was like the waves, with a resilient quality.

"My name is He Damin, a rogue cultivator." He Damin pulled a roasted sweet potato from his bundle; he had casually buried it in the stove before leaving, and it was still warm. "I'd like to take you as my apprentice."

The girl held the harpoon horizontally in front of her chest, pursed her lips, and said, "A rogue cultivator? I wouldn't take a rogue cultivator as my master."

"Why?" Chen Xueru asked curiously. She thought being a rogue cultivator was great, it was so free and easy.

"Rogue cultivators have no resources, no lineage, and no future." The girl snorted. "I want to join a major sect, like the Qingyun Sect or the Canglang Holy Land, so that I can become a strong person." She grew up by the sea and had seen many rogue cultivators being bullied. She had long believed that only sects could be relied upon.